Jewellery

Odd Eye regrouped itself at El Dorado Estate once the funeral had concluded itself. Jongin had stated quietly to Taemin that he wanted to take a nap, and though it was apparent on Taemin’s face that he felt Jongin ought to talk things over, he reluctantly let him go. Together, he and Onew walked towards the front of the house where the other three were waiting: Key in his flamboyant outfit and hat, Jonghyun with his battered black bag and scruffy coat, and Minho in his spiffiest vest and dark pants, white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. And of course, Taemin in his rather dishevelled coat and sweater, and him in his top hat and fine clothes. He recalled once, many years ago, a police inspector had remarked upon them coldly as, 'rather a ragtag little bunch'. It was, in Onew's mind, quite the compliment.  

Onew waved when he saw them, breaking into a smile, and the trio exchanged a meaningful look between themselves, something like relief and happiness and a letting go. “You’re in a good mood,” Key observed.

He clapped Taemin on the back, causing the slighter boy to smile shyly. “That I am. Now, gentlemen, shall we find ourselves a murderer?”  

There was a pause, and then Jonghyun grinned and declared, “Yes! Time to corner Luhan!”

“Oh no – I’d like to speak to the secretary first,” Onew told him. Jonghyun deflated comically.

“Why?” Minho asked, tone a little sharp.

“Well, many reasons, but… for one, I think it would do Mr Luhan some good to sit and stew over when we’ll finally get to him, his anxiety and fear gnawing at him and making him much easier to pick apart,” Onew said gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

“That’s horrid!” Jonghyun cried. He paused. “I like it.”

“One way or another, we shall get some measure of truth today,” Onew said simply. “Yes. There have been enough lies. Now, for our plan of attack –”

Needing a quiet space to speak to their suspects, Odd Eye had, with a measure of reluctance, gone to the reception room. Key couldn’t help shivering as he sat on a chair within the room. Another human being had been murdered in cold blood in this room, and Onew had nearly been killed as well. Certainly, they had encountered a good load of dead bodies across their career, but he could never quite shake the feeling of being watched, that something sinister might be left behind in the place. So he was a bit of a coward with an overactive imagination. It wasn’t as though the others hadn’t screamed in terror before over accidentally stumbling into a corpse.

Minho and Jonghyun always liked to say that they hadn't been prepared, is all.

Taemin and Onew were seated on the couch beside him. The door had been rather wisely bolted this time, with Jonghyun standing guard in front of it, so that he might hear if anyone attempted to approach, and produce his trusty revolver. Kim Jonghyun was not a man you wanted to be on the bad side of – and attempting to murder his friends was definitely getting on his bad side.

It was on all of their bad sides, Key thought, with a curling of his lip. Although he might not have shown it, indeed, had made a damn fool of himself for trying to pretend that he was above it all in the past, his heart had been in his throat at the sound of the gunshot, knowing that Onew and Taemin are in there and we can’t get to them to stop it in time.

His eyes flickered over to his leader, who was humming absently to himself, occasionally breaking into a smile at some thought. Key gave a secret smile of fondness, pouting until Onew noticed. Then he shoved Onew a little when the older man caught the expression and started poking him in the side in curiosity over it. Onew chuckled. Yes. Things were going to be alright.

There was a knock on the door, and Jonghyun let a dark-faced Minho into the room. Kim Minseok trailed after him, looking decidedly irritated. Jonghyun bolted the door with an ominous click. As Minho took a seat next to him, Key asked softly, “Junmyeon wasn’t pleased about us taking him away?”

“Not the least, ‘specially since I couldn’t give a reason why,” Minho responded, folding his arms.  

Key studied his posture and said abruptly, “Don’t be mad at Jinki. It’s not the same.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” Minho said, just a trace snidely, but Key knew it wasn’t the time to get into an argument with a suspect present.

“Don’t let your own personal fears blind you, especially against us,” Key said rather snappishly. This seemed to unsettle Minho, for he shifted in his seat and looked down at his hands.

“Now I feel like I should apologize to Jinki,” he mumbled.

“As you should,” Key said pointedly, not inclined to sugar coat that fact. This case was testing them, and Key would not allow it to win. They had endured five years too long for something like this to split them apart again. A murderer was a murderer.

Minseok had sat down before them, with an expression of acute and sullen displeasure. “What can I do for you?” he said, sounding as though they’d suggested forcibly removing his nails from his body.

“Perhaps something,” Onew said, settling his hands onto his lap, “But what I would really like is to tell you a little story.”

The secretary’s eyebrows rose in barely veiled condescension. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good listener: I don’t say ‘ooh’ or clap at the right moments.”

“Oh, it’s not one of those stories, quite boring really,” Onew replied obliviously, an odd little smile on his face. “Now, when we spoke to you that first day, Key mad