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Only the Best | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Romance Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 82 Summary: Metropolitan Police Inspector Harry Potter was having an amazing twenty-four hours. He slept a full eight hours, had a good pint, and met the most incredible red-headed woman. Of course, that was all nulled by the dead woman lying in Whitehorse Road Park. Hitcount: Story Total: 32761; Chapter Total: 2539 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I would like to thank Arnel and gryffindormischief for their amazing edits and suggestions! |
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“2, D, L, O,” Harry read, hovering over the lifeless form of Katie Bell. To say he was stunned was an understatement. One of their own… murdered, or at least assumed murdered. After Hermione had run all the tests she confirmed copious amounts of milk within her system, ingested within the previous seventy-two hours. The letters and numbers were placed in an unusual order. The number on her forehead, the D, L, and O lined up just over her breasts. “What the hell is going on?” “I have no idea.” Tonks stood off in the corner of the room, avoiding the body set in the middle of the chamber. She had never enjoyed observing dead bodies. When she had been forced to dissect cadavers during her training, she had hated it. There had been a small moment where she had almost quit, but she pushed through her disgust. Now, here she was, dealing with murders left, right, and center. Bloody murders. “It just… Why Bell?” Harry’s voice sounded as if a frog had crawled into his throat and made it a home. Tonks was in the same boat, really. No one could have ever expected… “I don’t know, but I say we head to her flat. That seems like a good place to start.” Tonks started walking towards the exit, giving Katie’s body a wide berth. Harry took the sheet that was covering Katie’s lower section, and pulled it up over her head as well. “How did none of us notice that Katie was missing?” Harry questioned angrily as they walked towards the car park. Tonks had looked up all the victim’s information before they went and looked at the body. “I mean she worked with us, for fuck sake. We should have noticed her missing for more than a few days.” “That’s the thing.” Tonks was rifling through the sheets of information as they walked, trying to find the circumstance she had noted earlier. Walking and talking was hard enough for Tonks, her mother always said God gave her two left feet… and cursed one to forget how to move-so trying to walk, talk, and read was out of the question. She tripped, sending the papers flying everywhere. Harry sighed and helped her collect their data. “What were you saying before?” Harry asked, once they gathered everything and started walking again. Harry kept ahold of their info. “Oh, yeah, right. I think it said somewhere in there,” Tonks pointed at Harry’s handful, “that she was on leave… Something about helping her mother.” “What are the odds that she takes a holiday at the same time she was murdered?” Harry asked rhetorically. Tonks felt no need to respond. They were both clearly bothered by that fact. What were the odds? “What about her mother?” Harry asked. “Did she not find it odd that Katie never showed up to visit her?” “Ah, well, her mother is a mental patient in Bethlem Royal Hospital,” Tonks explained as they entered their patrol car. “So… she had no idea Katie was supposed to be there?” “Not as far as I can tell. The person I talked to on the phone claimed Katie showed up whenever she could, but sometimes Katie would go months without seeing her mother.” Tonks turned the ignition on and backed out of the parking spot. Harry sat in the passenger seat, scanning the reports on Katie. “So, why would Katie take a leave to see her mother? Did someone call her and say something was wrong?” Tonks could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he tried to understand. “That’s one of the million-pound questions, now, isn’t it?” “Did the person you spoke to have any idea if someone called?” “I asked, but she said she had no idea. She claimed that they don’t call patients’ families unless something was extremely wrong, and Mrs. Bell was apparently stable for the last few months.” “So,” Harry drawled. Tonks chanced a glance over to him. He was facing her and his eyes alight. “We have something really odd going on here… maybe something that will give us a new lead?” Tonks shifted her shoulders, popping them. “Your guess is as good as mine, but honestly…” she tried to keep her voice level, methodical, but that was never her style. “I think we might be on to something.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X Katie Bell’s flat was in what Tonks would describe as an average London building. Three stories, brick exterior, the kind of place most Londoners lived in. It was in Balham, just a few streets away from the public library. As they approached the first floor where Katie’s flat was located, Tonks remembered that they hadn’t talked to the landlord to get a key yet. Just as she was about to remind Harry, he turned the knob and the door swung open. A state of disarray met them. Furniture was overturned, papers and books were scattered across the floor, broken china lay like mines. “What the hell?” Harry said as he walked in, dodging an upturned end table. Tonks followed her partner, trying to make sense of the scene. To the left of the front door was a hallway, the doorframe streaked with spots and slashes of red. “Harry,” Tonks pointed over towards her observation. Harry nodded and walked towards it. He stared at it, his face so close his nose nearly touched the stains. “Looks like blood,” Harry claimed finally as he pulled a pair of disposable gloves from inside his jacket and put them on, “dried as well. I would guess it’s been there for a while, most likely over a week.” Pulling out his phone, he made a quick call to the Forensics department, requesting they send someone in. After ending the call, he looked around the corner and let out a low whistle. “The bedroom is just as bad.” He walked off, leaving Tonks to start taking inventory of the living room. She noted all the broken items, the ruined furniture, and stains, of what she also thought, must have been blood that peppered the wood floors. She pulled on her own gloves. “Hey, Tonks,” Harry called from across the flat, “remember how Katie was really good at identifying people?” “Yeah?” Tonks started walking towards the sound of Harry’s voice. He was in a little study, across from the toilet. The moment Tonks walked in she understood Harry’s call. The room was trashed just like most of the house, but in here was a board, a board filled with ripped photos from their case. Tonks recognized the top half of the security image from the Susan Bones case, only the legs of the people remained. Then there was a map with red pins, connecting the two parks where Susan and Cho had been discovered. “She was trying to figure things out on her own,” Harry said looking at the board himself. “And I have a feeling that whoever killed her might have been a little mad about her trying to figure out the case.” “I would be too,” Tonks said moving closer to the board. She studied some of the handwritten notes Katie had made. “Do you think the person who trashed this place only ruined the facts that were correct? Because look here, this note is left untouched but the photo is ripped.” Harry nodded. “I think so, but we can’t be certain. Maybe they missed something that could be useful to us.” “I’m going to take photographs of the rooms,” Tonks said, pulling out her phone. “I want to remember how everything looked before we start going through things.” “Good idea. Try not to touch too much, the blokes from Forensics should be here shortly.” Tonks started to snap photos while Harry made a call to Moody. They waited until the crime scene crew arrived setting up a quarantine. Harry and Tonks took the opportunity to avoid the organized chaos and slipped outside to talk to the neighbors. No one claimed to have heard anything odd within the last few weeks. When the two inspectors arrived back to the flat, the crew had already taken prints from the living room, some of the smashed glass, and the computer in the study. “We left that for you,” one of the crew told Tonks, “We figured there may be something on there, but it’s password protected.” “Okay, thanks,” Tonks went into the study and opened the MacBook. The screen lit up and asked for a password instantly. Though Tonks had always liked Katie, she never was close enough to her to know what she may use for a password. The only hint that was given was the word “Oli”. “Do you know if Katie knew an Oliver?” Tonks asked Harry as he checked over some of the scattered files. “Eh?” Harry responded, clearly only half listening. “No… not as far as I know, but to be fair I never really talked with Katie.” “Do we know who some of her friends were? Maybe they know…” “Boot was her partner, we should talk to him about her personal life.” Tonks nodded and placed the laptop into a plastic bag the crew had left. They wanted to take it back to Scotland Yard to check for any unusual conditions, maybe removed blood. Tonks and Harry checked over all of Katie’s notes. She had many hypotheses, but each one less likely than the one before it. She had all the hard facts placed in the front section of a notebook, but there was nothing new for Harry and Tonks to take from her notes. “We’ll keep it,” Harry claimed, placing it in another bag and setting it on top of the laptop. “Let’s head back to The Yard and talk to Boot.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X “So, what you’re telling me is,” Ginny drawled, trying to keep a level head, “that you were gone for just over a week and you can’t remember anything?” Dean looked sheepish. “Yeah, I mean, I remember getting a drink with a bird at a bar, then going back to her place… then, nothing until I woke up this morning.” Oliver Wood shook his head. “Dean that… that’s a large gap. A week and two days.” He turned to look at Ginny. “Have you already called the police?” “Yes, I informed them he arrived this morning. The officer I spoke to said it wasn’t completely uncommon for people to go on a bender and forget things,” Ginny explained to the coach. “But when I mentioned it was over a week, he advised me to have Dean get a psych evaluation.” “Well, that’s a given,” Oliver snorted. “I agree, but Dean… where did you wake up? Was everything normal?” “Yeah,” Dean was nodding profusely. “I was in my own room and I just figured I left that broad’s flat early in the morning and passed out in bed. My head hurt, but it wasn’t the worst hangover I’d ever had.” “And you just thought it was the next day?” “Yeah, until I looked at my phone and saw thirty missed calls, fifty missed texts, and the date.” Oliver scrubbed his face with his hands. “Alright, I’m gonna call someone in from Nightingales… Have them come check him over.” “Are you sure? I think this may be longer than a quick check up,” Ginny advised, “maybe we should have him go in and see someone for a full eval.” “Is that really necessary?” Oliver practically moaned, “They may only need to talk with him for ten minutes…” “Do you really think the conversation will only last ten minutes?” Dean was watching the two argue, his head whipping back and forth. Finally, he decided to throw in his two pennies. “I think I should go in and talk to them for a while.” Both Ginny and Wood turned to look at him. “Are you sure?” Oliver questioned. “Yeah,” Dean nodded. “I think something must be wrong if I forgot an entire week.” “I agree,” Ginny said taking out her phone. “I’m going to start working on the press release. This is going to be a tricky next few weeks, Dean. So, my advice is to lay low… don’t go out on benders or anything extreme. Maybe have Seamus come over, watch a film or something. Just… keep a low profile.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X “Oli?” Terry Boot’s confusion didn’t bring hope to Harry. Back at Scotland Yard, Harry and Tonks had sat down with Terry, asking anything they could think of about Katie’s personal life. When they inquired about the name Oli, Boot seemed to draw a blank. “Nothing?” Tonks asked eagerly. “It was the password hint on her computer.” “I mean… yeah, she’s mentioned the name a few times,” Boot looked between Harry and Tonks. “To be honest, I kinda… blank out when she started talking personal to me.” “Shit,” Harry couldn’t help but mutter. Who else would know anything about this Oli? “We could talk to her dad,” Tonks suggested, “Oli could be her brother or something.” “No, I don’t think so,” Boot was scratching his chin. “I think he was a boyfriend or something… I remember she mentioned football and his name.” “Oli… football,” Harry murmured, trying to make his brain make any connection. “Oliver… football.” Suddenly Tonks gasped. She looked excitedly at Harry, practically bouncing in her seat. “Harry, isn’t one of the coaches from Tottenham Hotspur Football Club named Oliver?” Harry thought for a moment, trying to remember Ginny mentioning anything about an Oliver. “Actually… yeah, I think so, Ginny mentioned something about an Oliver Wood.” “Holy shit!” Tonks proclaimed, looking between Harry and Terry, “We need to talk to him.” “Yeah, we do,” Harry agreed standing. “We should also speak to her father again, because this is a long shot.” Tonks seemed to deflate. “Okay, I can see that point. How about you talk to the father while I meet with this Oliver Wood.” “How about I meet with Wood. I have a connection into the stadium. Not to mention I was the person searching for their missing player till he came back.” Tonks glared at him. “Why should I be stuck with the old doctor and you get the good looking ex-football star?” ‘Because I already have an in, like I said. Besides you don’t know if the doctor is old. He could be like one of those doctors on Ginny’s show… Mc-something-another. Okay I can’t remember names, but Ginny claims that they are all, and I quote here ‘Sizzling’.” “Been watching Grey’s Anatomy with your girlfriend, there Potter?” Terry teased, clearly holding in laughter at his two superiors. “Why do you know the name, Boot?” Harry retaliated, wiping the smirk off Boot’s face. “Fine, I’ll go talk with Doctor Bell,” Tonks agreed still begrudgingly. “But I’ll be miffed if he isn’t, quote ‘sizzling’.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X “Mr. Wood is currently in the middle of a practice. Can I request that you wait until after? He should be done within the next hour,” the flirty receptionist claimed, as he looked at Harry over the rim of his glasses. “The sooner the better,” Harry told the man. Why did receptionists like to flirt with him? Well, I may as well use it to my advantage Harry thought. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would give him another call,” he made a show of looking at the nametag pinned to the vibrant colored shirt. “Richard.” Richard blushed profusely, instantly assuring he would do his best for Harry and grabbed the phone on the counter to make the call. “If I didn’t know your sexual preference from… personal experience, I would be worried about our relationship there, Potter,” Harry spun around to see the lithe form of his girlfriend. She was giving him that mischievous grin that he adored so much, as she walked out one of the side passages. “Just thought I’d give it a go,” Harry claimed as he met her halfway. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame. Harry would have been more than happy to stay in her embrace all day… really every day, but he was there for business not pleasure, no matter how pleasurable it was. “I think I’ll stick with you, though,” he murmured into her hair, before releasing himself from her hold. “Just what every girl wants to hear,” Ginny laughed, then peering around him to see what Richard was doing, she asked, “What are you doing here, Harry?” “As much as I would like to say I came here to sweep you off your feet,” Ginny snorted, but he pressed on. “I came to talk to Oliver Wood.” Ginny’s head cocked sideways. “Oliver? Why do you need to see Wood?” “Just a couple of questions…” Harry felt bad. He couldn’t discuss the case with Ginny, not when she was close to a potential friend of the deceased. “I’m guessing it won’t have to do with his famous game winning penalty kick, now will it?” Harry gave her a modest grin. “You may never know.” She snorted, but seemed to know better than to push the matter, at least while in public. “Well, Oliver tends to run practice until at least four,” she paused and gave him a sly grin. “If you want you can come wait in my office. I’m sure I can find a way to occupy your time.” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. He pressed a quick, but meaningful kiss to her lips. “As tempting as that offer is, I think it would be better if I keep myself busy with other matters. If you’re interested, however, I would love to go get a cup of coffee. Is there anywhere nearby we could go?” Ginny looked pleased with his suggestion. “Oh, yeah, I basically live in the coffee bar here in the stadium.” She turned to look at Richard. “Hey, Rich, when Oliver is ready call my mobile. Inspector Potter will be with me until his meeting.” Richard glanced up from his computer, looking slightly put out over the fact Harry was leaving his lobby. “Sure thing, Miss Weasley.” Grinning, Ginny led Harry away from the office portion of the stadium and towards their destination, small talk flowing between them as they walked.Not awkwardly, Harry had to admire that. No matter the situation, his conversations with Ginny always felt… well, right. They went up to the counter and each ordered their drink, Harry, of course, playing his gentleman’s card and paying for both drinks. By this point in their relationship, Ginny had moved from verbally objecting to just rolling her eyes. They waited to the side of the counter, happy just to be in each other’s company. Finally, their number was called and they grabbed the two steaming cups and walked over to a table. “So, how bad is it this time?” Ginny asked as she blew on her coffee, making the brown liquid ripple. “On a scale from one to ten… I would say an eleven,” Harry claimed as he slowly stirred sugar into his cup. “Well, that doesn’t mean that much, seeing as you’re always so overly dramatic,” Ginny tried to lighten his mood, which he appreciated, but really Harry couldn’t get his mind to escape the hole it was in. If he had caught this guy before… “Stop blaming yourself,” Ginny’s angry voice drew him out of his reverie. She was giving him a blazing look, as if she was trying to set him aflame. Despite his self-deprecating mindset, he couldn’t help but find her glare, sensual. “I may not know the situation, but I know you are not the cause of the issue.” Harry couldn’t keep meeting her eyes. The logical part of him knew she was right, but… his heart just couldn’t agree. If he had figured out who was kidnapping these people… who was murdering them. He could have saved Katie. He had three months since Susan had been found, why couldn’t he figure out who was doing all of this? Because he was wallowing in his own self-pity, Harry didn’t notice Ginny’s right hand come flying towards his left arm, until a stinging pain hit him. “Hey!” he protested, glaring at the red head. “Well!” Ginny fought back. “Stop thinking it was your fault. It was the lunatic’s fault.” Harry couldn’t prevent his eyes from dropping again. “I know you’re right, but…” his voice trailed off. “But you can’t help it.” He nodded, unable to speak due to a sudden swelling of his throat. “Harry,” Ginny prompted softly, “look at me, please.” He did. Green met brown. “It’s not your fault, love,” she told him with conviction, “you can’t figure everything out… especially without all the information.” “But it’s my job to get the information,” Harry couldn’t stop his mouth from protesting. “Yes, but how can you collect all the info without anything to go on?” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, still looking into her eyes. “I just…” Ginny moved from the chair across from him, to the seat directly at his side. She turned her new chair so she was facing him and grabbed his shoulders so his gaze locked with hers. Then, jaw set,she enwrapped him in a fierce embrace, warmth loosening the tension from his body. They remained like that for a while, their drinks becoming tepid. “Feel better?” Ginny asked as she finally pulled away. Again, his voice seemed to have left him. He settled for a quick nod. “Good,” Ginny claimed as she took a sip from her cooled coffee. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell any of the lads you needed a hug. Wouldn’t want you to look weak.” Her wit was never far from her. “Thank you, Gin,” Harry choked out, not really caring if the entire world knew he was comforted by Ginny Weasley. No, he was thankful for the unrelenting solace he found in her presence. “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s talk about something more cheerful than murder. I know it’s hard to do, but we should try.” Harry knew that he had found the one, right then and there. Ginny Weasley was the only person who had ever been able to bring him back from such a stupor. As they talked about mindless things like her brother’s shop and the latest standings in the football league, in the back of Harry’s mind was the repeating thought of how incredible Ginny really was. Eventually, Richard texted Ginny, letting her know Oliver was ready to meet with Harry, which he had almost forgotten about. She told him to go ahead, she would bring their mugs back up to the barista. Before he followed her orders, he pressed an almost searing kiss to her lips, trying to convey the depth of his feelings for her, impossible though the task may be. As he walked out the door he looked over his shoulder to see a smirking Weasley. She winked at him, knowing full well he couldn’t resist a quick look around. Smiling to himself, Harry went back to the lobby to see where Wood’s office was located. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X “So, you’ve dated Katie off and on for the last five years?” Harry asked as he wrote the information down. Oliver Wood sat across from him, his leg bouncing. “Yeah,” Wood confirmed, “we met back at Uni and really hit it off… I was in my final year and Katie was only starting out.” His eyebrows rose. “You still haven’t told me what this is all about.” “What would you say is your current status?” Harry asked, he wanted to ask his final questions before possibly making Wood become unresponsive. “Uh…” Wood started to tap his fingers in time with his leg. “That’s kinda personal, isn’t it?” “It’s my job to get personal, Mr. Wood.” “Right, sorry. I would say on again.” “For how long?” Wood blushed. “Maybe four weeks… maybe six. It hasn’t been that long.” Harry nodded and continued to write down any useful information. “How well do you believe you know Miss Bell?” “Pretty well, I guess,” Wood’s eyes started to shift towards the door. “Do you have somewhere to be, Mr. Wood?” Harry asked quietly. “No, it’s just…” Wood turned to look Harry in the eyes. “The last time an officer came to talk to me was because my sister was found dead. It just… I makes me antsy, I guess.” Harry let out a deep sigh. “That’s understandable, Oliver, but please try to remain calm.” “Right, sorry.” “Back to my previous question, because you know Katie well, do you think you could help us log into her laptop?” Wood looked stunned. “Isn’t that an invasion of her privacy?” he questioned angrily. “What reason could you possibly have to hack into her computer?” “Technically, it’s not hacking, Oliver — “ Wood interrupted Harry. “Still, you could just ask her… unless,” Oliver visibly paled. “I’m sorry, Oliver,” Harry said, words he was all too familiar with. “Katie Bell was discovered murdered in Clissold Park in the early hours of the morning. I’m extremely sorry for your loss.” Oliver placed his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his desk. His body started to shake. Harry knew he was either trying to prevent tears from falling or they had escaped. He allowed Wood to have a moment. Harry could understand the need for a minute. The need to collect oneself. “Oliver… may I ask you a couple more questions?” Harry asked softly. This was a technique Harry had picked up over the years. If someone needed more time, the quietness of his voice allowed them to pretend they hadn’t heard Harry. Wood lifted his head, his eyes rimmed red, but he gave Harry a nod. “Thank you,” Harry shuffled himself and his notes slightly, giving Oliver a few more seconds. “On Katie’s laptop the only hint towards her password was the name “Oli”. I was wondering if you may have any suggestions.” “Her password is Woody21015,” Wood’s voice was husky as he gave a little sniff. “Are you certain?” Harry asked taken aback. “Yeah, I was there when she set it.” Oliver rested his temple on his wrist. “That’s… thank you, Oliver.” Wood just continued to stare. Harry knew the signs… Oliver was clearly trying to come to terms with his friend’s death and it wasn’t going well. Honestly, how could it? Harry thought bitterly. What kind of person took death well? “Do you know anything about the time she just took off?” Harry pressed. He needed to know about her timeframe, and a boyfriend or lover would be the most likely candidate to know her schedule. Oliver lifted his head slightly to give it a little shake. “No, I didn’t know she took any time off.” “When was the last time you saw her?” Harry’s least favorite question. It always felt so inconsiderate, but he needed to know. Wood closed his eyes, a small tear glided down his face. “I would say a week and a half ago,” he took in a large breath. “I left her flat on Monday morning to go to work.” “And you didn’t talk to her all week?” Again, Oliver shook his head lethargically. “No, well, I texted her, but no, we never talked on the phone and we didn’t meet this week.” “When was the last time she responded to your text?” “Last night… I assume before…” Wood choked up, but Harry’s mind was reeling. From his understanding their culprit would tie up his victims… no room to text. Did that mean the kidnapper was texting people, acting as if he was the victim. In today’s society, no one called each other… and all this person needed to do was read some previous texts to understand how their victim wrote. If they used emojis, their shorthands… really, it was so convenient. “Would you be willing to release your texts into my custody?” Wood ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, if you think it could help.” “Yes,” Harry said, finally feeling as if something was going well in this case, “It would be a great help.” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX X “I want someone trying to trace her phone, right now!” Harry told Terry Boot as they walked through the corridors of Scotland Yard. “I also want a specialist trying to figure out if the killer used a different texting style, try to find out something about this guy.” “Yes, sir,” Boot proclaimed as he hustled away. Harry continued towards his destination, Evidence. He needed to go get Katie’s laptop and see what she had been working on. If she had any idea about the case… Well, he needed that computer. Once he had collected his bundle he went back to his office. He had texted Tonks and told her to meet him there thirty minutes ago, once she was done with her discussion with Katie’s father. She had told him she would be there soon. In fact, Tonks was waiting for him, lounging in his desk chair, her feet resting on the desk itself, while her fingers twirled a pen. “There you are, Potter,” she called, “What did you find out from Wood? Is that the laptop? Did he give you some suggestions for the password?” she questioned him in a rapid-fire method. “Whoa there,” Harry put one hand up in a stop-all motion. “First of all, get your nasty feet off my desk. Secondly, yes, Wood knew the password, so I went and grabbed the computer. Finally, tell me what you learned from Bell’s father before we work on this.” Begrudgingly Tonks placed her feet on the carpet as she launched into her tale. Winston Bell was still distraught over their earlier conversation about Katie’s death, naturally. Ever since his wife’s sanity had depleted he had relied heavily on his daughter, and now she was gone as well. Tonks claimed that he had no idea what the password may be, but he did offer help to try to detect any identifying marks on their future suspects. “But clearly you have had more success than me,” she claimed, glancing at the laptop Harry had placed on the desk. “So, Katie Bell knew Oliver Wood, huh?” “They had a thing for each other,” Harry explained as he booted up the MacBook. He then went on to explain the relationship between Wood and Bell. “And Oliver says the password is Woody21015.” “Huh, interesting password,” Tonks said, tapping her pen on the desk lightly. “Do you think the numbers represent a day in their lives?” “I don’t know, Tonks.” “Hey, maybe it was the first time Bell saw Wood’s Woody.” “Jesus, Tonks,” Harry bemoaned, shaking his head. Finally, the screen asked for a password and Harry followed Wood’s instructions. The result was immediate, logging him into Katie’s profile. As the computer warmed up, programs began to open. A music application, Word processor, and her documents folder. “Brilliant!” Tonks exclaimed as she leaned closer to the screen. Harry decided to start in the Word document, finding only a blank page. Then he moved to the files. Katie had clearly been one of those people who did not care about organization. Everything was placed into one file and some of the documents didn’t even have real titles. “Jesus, this will be like searching for a needle in a haystack,” Tonks groaned leaning back in her chair, well, his chair, and placing her hands over her eyes. “We can start with the most recent files and move from there,” Harry claimed, changing the sorting method as such. The document placed at the top was labeled ‘Untitled’. Hoping it wasn’t anything to personally, Harry opened the Word file. Completing a quick skim over Harry felt shocked. “Tonks,” Harry managed to say, “have a look at this.” Tonks leaned forward and read over the document. “No way,” she muttered, “no fucking way.” Harry couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment as he stared helplessly at the words written in black and white before him. February 9th, 2018 Katie Bell, I have been informed that you noticed my little ear problem. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it wasn’t nice to point out defects in people? Never mind, I won’t hold it against you, because you seem to notice things others have not, I’m going to test your skill. I have attached a file for you to solve, and if you do, it will give you a name and number. We should have something to call one another, right? When we meet for the first time. I hope you do not have a date for Valentine’s Day yet, because I really would like to meet before then. Call me. Sincerely, A Secret Admirer P.S: Before you bother trying to respond I am using a public computer with a never used email address, so feel free to trace message to its source. P.P.S: I would like to keep this between you and me… we wouldn’t want dear Oli getting hurt because of our new-found relationship, now, would we? Harry scrolled down the document and found a complicated code, but Katie seemed to have failed as she had only typed five digits to a seven-digit number system, and only three letters for the name. “How did she solve all of this?” Tonks asked looking over the cipher as well. “I have no idea, it kind of reminds me of the code the Zodiac Killer used over in the States. My question is why Katie?” “I have no idea, but shit, Harry, this is bad. He’s contacting people. He really is making this a game.” “He’s targeted an officer on his case,” Harry muttered running an agitated hand through his messy hair. “How did he know Katie noticed his ear? It was only you, me, Boot and Katie in that room.” “I don’t know, but I have a really bad feeling about all of this. I mean who in their right mind does something like this?” “Clearly this person isn’t in their right mind, Tonks,” Harry loosen his tie, suddenly feeling as if it was suffocating him. “And I have a feeling that this is really on the beginning.” |
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