Beneath the Mask (1)

Mr. Larsen strolled along the streets while the buildings ahead loomed in the obscuring and dim mist. The mist made the surroundings seem more secluded and silent. All he heard was his clanking footsteps as he paced ahead. The frigid and moistening air of the late afternoon felt quite refreshing. He inhaled a deep breath and tried to let go his strain in this momentary silence. The faint sunlight gleamed through the haze and sprinkle on the empty streets. His footsteps slowed down and stopped by a brick-built building. There were three floors but they did not seem to be for living. Mr. Larsen climbed a few stairs and stepped into the room. The doorknob made a piercing and screeching sound as it turned. A man who rested his head on his hand glanced up. In front of him was a long desk, which was cluttered with documents and folders. On top of the pile was a name card that printed “Dylan Wade”. Mr. Wade’s lips curved to his usual smile. If you did not know him for long you would think his smile felt tender, but Larsen knew it was facile and hypocritical with a mischievous manner. Mr. Wade’s eyes were deep sunk and incisive but sometimes they drifted away as if pondering deeply. Larsen was often watchful towards Mr. Wade since he appeared frivolous on the outside but was actually shrewd and calculating. 

“Why are you so late? I told you to come forty minutes earlier,” Mr. Wade raised an eyebrow and complained impatiently.

“I took a stroll along the streets. Besides, our appointment time is 6:30.” Larsen replied casually.

Larsen saw a man sitting on a couch next to the desk. He had black framed glasses and dark silky hair that plastered down his temples. His eyes were dark and composed while his face showed no slight emotion. The man always gave others a cold and detached feeling as if he is indifferent to everything. 

“Hines, we should head toward the restaurant soon. The client from the last case we resolved invited us for dinner.”

Hines stood up and adjusted his lab coat. Mr. Wade sighed as he put on his coat and placed his hands in his pockets. 

“How boring. All these boring cases and clients. But we still have to meet them again to discuss the payment,” Mr. Wade spoke in a lethargic tone.

As they stood up, Larson realized Mr. Wade and Hines were both taller than him. They also had quite attractive appearances and faces. On the other hand, Larson’s face was not considered handsome but good to look at. He appeared more easy-going and approachable to others. He was doe-eyed with hazel colored pupils. 

Mr. Wade started this detective agency, he is not only a private detective but a detective in the police department. Hines is a college student that studies forensic science. Larsen is a doctor and he came to this detective agency just after he diagnosed a patient in the clinic. Hines and Larsen usually assist Mr. Wade during investigations. 

Larsen flipped through some cupboards and found the car keys in his pocket. They headed out and went towards the restaurant. 

The restaurant they arrived in was ornate and dazzling. They sat with the clients around the table. The tablecloth was embellished with exquisite lace along the borders. A shimmering crystal chandelier hung above their heads. Larsen knit his eyebrows feeling not used to all the flashy decorations. 

“Mr. Wade, thanks for the key evidence your team provided that helped our litigation. This is Jane, the lawyer that helped us a lot during this process,” Mr. Blackwell spoke politely as he glanced at Jane. 

Mr. Wade smiled warmly toward Jane as he walked over and shook her hand. They exchanged name cards. Meanwhile, Hines sat in his seat quietly, unconcerned about communicating with these people. 

“Let’s talk about the payment for entrusting this case,” Larsen suggested.

“If the inside stories are exposed to the public, what would the public think about this medical organization?” Mr. Wade snickered as he joked in a playful tone.

Mr. Blackwell chuckled and replied, “Our payment will not be inadequate. After all, our company isn’t lacking this little money. We never give others a tightfisted impression.”

Larson always felt that Mr. Wade was practiced at interacting with clients. He crossed his fingers feeling a little bored. Larson examined Mr. Blackwell for a while. He had grey hair mixed with a shade of white. His hands were dry and crinkly. He also had noticeable wrinkles on the edge of his eyes. Jane who sat next to him was a middle-aged woman. She wore a black trouser suit and a delicate necklace around her neck. Mr. Blackwell mentioned that she was that kind of self-disciplined and committed workaholic. 

A man with a little beard on his chin stood up and walked over to the side where the three of them sat.

He gave them each a name card and introduced, “I am Bedford Vance. First time we’ve met, I heard from Mr. Blackwell that you are a very competent detective. I am the office manager of this medical corporation.”

Mr. Wade shook his hand and beamed at Bedford. He spoke in a convivial tone, “I am glad to meet you, Bedford! You must have been doing well in your company. And is that lovely and beautiful girl your daughter?”

Bedford gazed at her daughter next to him with fondness. 

“Her name is Quinn. She is 11 years old. You are quite familiar with her right? Mr. Larson,” Bedford replied and glimpsed at Larson.

Larson and Quinn both had bronze colored hair. Quinn’s eyes were vivid and limpid as if it is a crystal clear creek. Her eyes were very similar to Mr. Larson’s eyes. 

“We are cousins. She was very adorable when she was little. I visited her and took care of her sometimes. That was when I met Mr. Vance,” Larson replied as his pupils glanced left, recounting some of the past memories.

“What a coincidence! However, don’t you think your ages differ too much?” Mr. Wade teased.

“I am not that old! Mr. Wade. I am only 21,” Larsen responded as he chuckled.

Quinn grinned as she gazed at Larsen. From the way she talked with Larsen, Mr. Wade felt that she was a humorous and outgoing girl. 

The dishes were served and the other people from his company chatted as they eat. Mr. Wade’s attention was drawn to one of these people, whose face was pale and frail looking. On his angular face were sunken eyes that had dark eye circles below them. When Mr. Wade shook hands with him, he felt the man’s hand was thin and bony. Mr. Blackwell introduced him as Earl, the marketing manager of their company.

“I am exhausted from all the draining work every day. I don’t have that much energy as you young people anymore,” Earl smiled wryly as he spoke in a dispirited tone.

A woman from their company poured tea in the cups and handed them out. Mr. Blacksmith also passed the cups down. They enjoyed their dinner as they chatted with each other around the table. As the sky darkened as stars emerged in the night, Mr. Wade, Larsen and Hines waved goodbye and headed back to their detective agency. 

In the morning of the following day, there was a phone call from the police department. Mr. Wade picked up the ringing phone. Abruptly, his lip curved exaggeratedly, a distorted and devilish smile hung on his face. The look in his eyes suddenly became solemn, reflecting a devious and fanatic gleam. His smile always gave Larsen goosebumps. Larsen felt that Mr. Wade changes into a different person whenever there is a case that he is interested in. This was as if having two distinct personalities in one body. Maybe, he was just hiding the real him by wearing his “mask” of hypocrisy.

“Secure the crime scene immediately, we will arrive soon,” Mr. Wade spoke eagerly and hung up the phone.

“Finally! After all these boring cases… A murder!” Mr. Wade covered his smile as he turned to the other two men and exclaimed.

“Who is it?” Hines asked indifferently as he continued to flip through his book.

Meanwhile, Larsen froze. The heavy word “murder” echoed around in his mind. He felt confused and a little bit startled. 

“Remember the skinny guy named Earl. His body was found this morning on the side of a street nearby,” Mr. Wade replied.

Larsen was stunned, questioning if what he heard was true.

“Quit staring blankly, Larsen. Get the car keys,” Mr. Wade commanded.

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