A Phone Call
"Richard, I have some bad news. I heard from one of my friends in the police department that it doesn't look like I can get you out of this as soon as we thought."
Harry's voice through the receiver felt like a cold wind. He continued talking.
"It looks like, somehow, they've confirmed traces of Brenda's blood on one of the newspapers they took from your apartment."
"H...how can that be? I've never even met Brenda before in my life!" Richard sobbed, breaking down as he looked desperately around his room. It was after several officers had suddenly barged in, tore the place apart, and taken his cosmetic case and playing cards as evidence.
"I know. Before all this happened, you had no idea Brenda even existed, right? You didn't kill Vivian, either."
"Right."
"Of course I believe you. But the police, especially that officer Hank, don't seem to think the same way I do."
"No way...!"
"Last time when they took you in, I was able to get the higher-ups in the department working on it and get you released right away, but it looks like my powers won't do anything this time. The profile issued by that FBI officer is the exact opposite to your character, but it looks like Hank has been put in charge of your case. Somehow, all the evidence points at you—the black lipstick, the playing cards, the bloodstained newspapers...that guy, that so-called Mr. Justice—they portray him like a hero, but I've heard that there are some nasty rumors going around about him. If he sets his sights on you, you can't escape. He may make this very black-and-white."
"...what should I do?"
"This is hard for me to say, but letting them take you in for the night may be the only thing you can do."
"Y...you mean...even though I didn't do anything?"
"Yeah. It won't be long before they issue a warrant for you and take you in."
"When do you suppose that will be?"
"Your arrest? I'd say...perhaps early tomorrow morning. But, when that happens, I'll be putting myself in charge of your defense. You're not the kind of person who could be a murderer, or do those things. I know that quite well. I can see you being proven innocent for sure."
"..."
"Worried?"
"I really didn't do anything. So, there should be no need for me to be afraid. But, I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried. If I do let them arrest me, how long will it really take them to come to the realization that I'm innocent?"
"Hm...I can't say anything at the moment. It may take a week, it may take two. Or, surely...but, because you didn't do anything, even if it does take time, they'll find you innocent. Let's fight this together."
Richard hung up. He felt extremely depressed. He looked in the mirror. Even with his clown makeup still on, it was clear he was tired.
Arrest... He couldn't believe he was sitting there, that this was happening to him.
He remembered Hank's angry voice, yelling, "You think you can get away! After all, you can play tricks on me!"
If it's him...he'll stop at nothing.
He sighed. He looked at the clock.
She'd probably be there by now.
They had taken his cosmetics and his cards with them. For now, it was a good thing that he hadn't taken off his makeup yet. It was cold comfort on his journey that afternoon. What kind of tricks could he do without cards or any of his other props?
If he was arrested, he wouldn't be able to see "her" for a while. When he saw "her" today, he would simply say farewell. After all, it would make her sad if he suddenly just didn't come there anymore.
It's okay. I didn't do anything. I'll be able to come right back to her. I have to make sure she doesn't worry about me...
Even though I only won't be able to see her for a really little while...a really little while...a really little while...
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