Unsolved Case: Jones, A. Oct. 16, 1987

October 15, 1987 6:00 PM

"See ya Dad! Mom! I'm leaving for the party!"

The teen ran out the door to a blue convertible car filled with other teens. Upon seeing the other boy leave the house, the driver honked his horn, gaining the attention of the new boy. He waved his hand and hopped into the convertible landing right next to the driver. Unbeknownst to the boy who left the house, a smaller, younger teen, also a boy, was watching from a window on the second story of the house.

October 16, 1987 1:00 AM

In the cold early morning, a boy, the very same teenager who had left for the party earlier that night, lay stabbed, bloodied and dead, in the park close to his home.

Later in the morning after the body was found, the police came and examined the crime scene. They gathered little evidence but were able to identify the victim. His parents were notified and the family grieved for their son. Nobody noticed the little brother of the boy and he continued to be invisible, watching the events unfold around him. He knew that all his parents could see was their murdered son, not the one alive in front of their eyes.

Slowly but surely, with little evidence, limited technology, and no leads the case became as cold as the night the boy was found. The detectives gathered the evidence and placed them into a brown box. labeling it Oct. 16, 1987, Jones, A. They placed the container in storage and let it wait with the hope that one everything would become the way it should, complete.

Present Day… October 16, 2008 9:00 AM

It was a busy day and Ludwig just happened to arrive late. He looked down at his watch and cursed the time, traffic, and the stupid alarm clock that lay by his bed. When he reached his desk, a brown and messy haired man appeared at his desk.

"Hey Boss…there's a man who wants to see you. He's sitting in the chair over at Feliciano's desk. The poor man, hopefully Feli hasn't done or said anything too drastic to him."

"Thank you for telling me Antonio. Do you know why he's here?"

"No clue. He just came in here about fifteen minutes ago and started asking for you. He never told us why though. I told him that you weren't here and that he could sit in the extra chair over there."

"Hmmm…alright. Thanks again Antonio.

"No problem."

After their quick conversation, Antonio walked away to a different part of the crowded little office. Ludwig, however, walked up to the mysterious man occupying the chair in front of the bright and talkative Italian, who currently was telling the blond man about the exciting features of pasta.

"And then they grind up the grain using these really co-"

"Ahem…" Ludwig coughed into his fist, successfully catching the attention of the chattering brunet.

"Ve!~Ludwig! You're finally here! I missed you soooo much! I was so lonely! You never come this late and I was so worried about you! Then, then when I was moping, this man," he pointed to the blonde, who Ludwig noticed had extremely fuzzy eyebrows, "suddenly appeared at my desk and I started telling him about the joys of pasta! And, and then you came here!"

The little Italian man suddenly jumped out of his seat and landed on the taller German giving him a hug. Needless to say Ludwig was embarrassed. Why did Feliciano have to do this every time he was late? It was only about five minutes for heaven's sake.

"Feli…Feli! FELICIANO! GET OFF!" Ludwig commanded the smaller man.

"But…but you usually don't mind my hugs…"

"Yes, but today we have a guest." Ludwig pointed his hand towards the small blonde man in the chair.

"Oh yeah!" Feliciano released his iron grip and fell so that his feet were back on the ground.

"So Mr., Mr.…"

"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."

"Mr. Kirkland, may I ask you why you are here?"

"Do you know what today's date is Detective Beilschmidt?"

"It's the 16th of October Mr. Kirkland."

"Yes,…yes I know. Do you know what the significance of this day is?" Arthur watched as Ludwig hesitantly shook his head in a no fashion. "I assumed so. Today is the twenty first anniversary of the day one of my best friends was killed. His name was Alfred Jones, eighteen years old, killed early in the morning on this very day. I've waited twenty one years for his case to be solved and so far nothing has been done to solve it. I came here today because I had made him a promise. The day Alfred was placed into the ground I told him that I would find the one who killed him. I heard stories about you, Detective, how you solve unsolved homicides and I came here in hopes that you would reopen Alfred's case. Please Detective Beilschmidt, it's all I ask for."

Ludwig looked at the man in front of him and though about his request. His team hadn't gone on a case for at least a week now and they really needed to get out of the office. Of course they could go through all the other cold case files in the storage area but this man was probably offering new evidence that could help this specific case.

"All right. We'll try Mr. Kirkland. I'll have my team look into it and see if it has potential. I can't make any promises though."

"Thank you Detective!" Arthur stood up out of the chair he had been sitting in. "Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy I am. Finally, Alfred will have closure. I will have closure." He grabbed Ludwig's hand and shook it fiercely.

"Just one question Mr. Kirkland, do you know anyone who would hurt Alfred? An enemy perhaps? Someone who threatened him just before he died?"

"Hmmm…yes actually. The Cuban…what was his name?" Arthur placed a finger on his chin and thought hard. "Ismael. His name was Ismael Vasquez. He and Alfred got into plenty of fights over our high school years. At the time, before Alfred was murdered, I believed that if anything were to happen to Alfred, Ismael would be one of the ones responsible for it."

"Hmmm…Ismael Vasquez. We'll put someone out to look for him. Thank you for the information Mr. Kirkland. We'll give you a call when we solve the case or need your help."

With that, Arthur Kirkland made his way to the door of the cold case office. Before he left he turned around. "Thank you Detective. Really, thank you so much. I've waited twenty one years for this moment and I hope that you'll be able to find the bastard that killed my best friend."

Ludwig nodded a confirmation as Arthur Kirkland left the office.

"Antonio! Get Lovino and Gilbert over here! We have a new case to solve!"

As Ludwig called out to the other detectives, Feliciano came up from the storage area. In his hands was a large dust covered brown box.

"Look Ludwig! I found that box you wanted! It's real…reall…ATCHOO! It's really dusty…" He placed the old box on the large glass table in the main meeting room of the office and rubbed at his now itching nose. As the little Italian suffered through his allergy, Ludwig twisted the doorknob of the meeting room door and let in the other members of the team: Antonio, Lovino, and his older brother Gilbert. As soon as they were seated around the table Ludwig started to explain to them the case.

"Alright everybody, we just got assigned to a new case. This one is from 1987. The victim," he pulled a picture of a handsome boy in a football uniform out of the old box, "is eighteen year old Alfred Jones." Ludwig began to pass the photograph around the table. "He was found dead at a park a few blocks away from his home. No suspects, no leads. The case was ruled cold after a few weeks. We now have a new lead however, and are reopening it. Antonio, you and Lovino are going to interview a man named Ismael Vasquez. Before the meeting, I took the liberty to find his address. It's on this piece of paper."

Ludwig handed Lovino a piece of folded paper. "I want you two to leave as soon as possible."

"Yes Boss. Come on Lovi." Antonio grabbed his partner's hand and led him out the door.

Ludwig turned his attention to his brother. "Gilbert, you and Feliciano can go and get more information about the victim. Amazingly, his parents still live in the same house as they did twenty years ago. Here's their address."

"What are you going to do, eh, Ludwig?" Gilbert complained.

"I am going to review the case file to make sure the original detectives didn't miss anything." Ludwig explained as he gave his brother a hard look. "Well, get going! You two have to interview the parents."

"So, Ismael's place. Looks like its seen better days." Antonio spoke as he and his partner exited their patrol car. They found the correct street and location of the house fairly quickly, however, the house was located in a seedier part of town.

"Doesn't surprise me. We're in the crummier part of the city. I mean seriously, just look around." Lovino pointed around himself. He watched as Antonio took out a file from the glove compartment of the car and opened it.

"Ismael Vasquez. Thirty nine years old, works at a local warehouse downtown. Was the same age as the victim and was in the same grade. Mr. Kirkland said that Alfred and Mr. Vasquez would frequently get into fights. Sounds like a motive right?"

"Two men hate each other's guts. Meet up at a local party, probably drunk, get into a fight. Before you know it one guy's dead. Could happen I guess. At least your theory makes sense, unlike those of some other people we know…"

"Only one way to find out." Antonio closed the file and placed it back into the car.

The two men took their time crossing the street to the faded and rundown house that apparently belonged to their suspect. They reached the front door and rapped loudly on it. The sound of rustling cloth and heavy foots steps grew louder until suddenly the front door was suddenly swung open.

"I TOLD YOU! I DON'T WANT ANYT-"

"Excuse me, Mr. Vasquez…"

The somewhat heavy, dark skinned man blinked at the two men on his doorstep.

"You aren't those salesmen. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I thought you were those pesky neighborhood vendors that always try to sell me their things.

"It's quite alright. I'm Detective Antonio Carriedo and this is my partner Lovino Vargas. We're from Chicago P.D. and we're investigating the murder of Alfred Jones. We were made aware that you might have information that may be crucial to the case."

"Alfred Jones…Now that's a name I haven't heard for a long, long time. Here, we'll talk about it inside." Ismael let the two detectives into his home and led them to his living room. He sat down upon a large chair and beckoned the detectives to sit on the couch in front of him.

"So…Mr. Vasquez. You and Alfred got into a lot of fights back in high school correct?"

"Yeah, although we used to be friends. We had a falling out however."

"Did you go to party Alfred went to the night before was found?"

"Of course I went! I was one of the heavier partiers at school. It was a great place to get, you know, weed and alcohol, especially when you were a teen."

"Hmmm…Did you and Alfred have a fight on the day he died?"

"A fight? Let's see…Yeah, I believe so…Hey, now I know what you guys are probably thinking. So we had a fight that day, big deal. That doesn't mean I killed him though."

"Well, maybe, Mr. Vasquez, you didn't mean to kill Alfred. Maybe you were high, or drunk, or both for the matter. You were probably still mad at him for the fight and you decided to get revenge."

"No! That's not true! Besides, our fight had nothing to do with Alfred himself."

"What! Care to explain what you mean by that?"

"Ok, here's the real deal…"

October 15, 1987 2:45 PM

RING! The school bell rang signaling the end of school. As students filed out of class a tall, dark skinned boy ran through the crowds. He stopped suddenly next to a door labeled 'World History Room # 10' and peered inside. There, trying to gather up all his books was another boy. Blond hair shimmered and shone under the lights of the class room as he gathered up his heavy books and walked towards the door.

"Hey, thanks for waiting Ismael."

"It's no problem Matt. You know, there's a reason why the school gave everybody lockers."

"I know, I just didn't have time to go this morning. Al and I were a little late. It was a miracle that I wasn't tardy to class."

"So you just decided to carry all your books? Couldn't you have gone during lunch?"

"Yeah but I was with you guys. Plus, I didn't want to wander around by myself."

"Matt, sometime you're gonna have to stand up for yourself, you know. We can't always be there to protect you."

"I know, Ismael, I know. I guess eventually I will but right now I have you guys to protect me."

The younger, blond boy gave a vibrant smile to his darker skinned friend.

"Aww, damn it Matt! You know that I can't stay mad at you when you do that! You know we'll always be there to protect you!"

The two boys continued to walk down the near empty hallway. Neither of them noticed the foot that was sticking out from the side of the hallway until Matt was on the ground, books and papers scattered across the floor. Laughter echoed through the corridor as Ismael looked to his right directly at the perpetrator as he tried to help his friend off the ground.

"Hahahahahaha! Matt you should have seen your face! That was too good to be true!"

"Al…do you have to pick on me every day? Can't you lay off a little?"

Alfred ignored his little brother's protest and gave one of his two friends accompanying him a high five. The three continued to laugh as Matthew tried desperately to pick up his fallen books and papers. Ismael watched (after he had helped Matthew up of course) the three laughing idiots, growing angrier as each second ticked by. Suddenly he lunged at Alfred, swinging his fist and hit him right in the face. The two began to fight, throwing and swinging their fists and rolling around on the ground.

"Stop! Stop it Al! Ismael! Stop fighting!" Matthew was yelling in the background but because of his soft voice no one could hear.

Suddenly, the two combating boys were pulled apart by a very angry principle and the gym teacher.
"You two!" The principle pointed to Alfred and Ismael, "In my office NOW!" The two boys hung their heads and began walking in direction of the office with the principle high on their tails. At the end of the hallway, Ismael turned his head around and smiled at a distressed looking Matthew, catching the other's attention. He gave a small wave and Matthew looked somewhat better knowing that his friend was alright, for the time being at least…

"So what happened when you two got to the office?"

"I was suspended for three days, which I know doesn't seem like a lot, but it was. Someone had to protect Matthew at school. Those three days felt like an eternity."

"This Matthew. Who was he?"

"Like I said, he was Alfred's little brother. When we were seniors, he was a freshman. He was always getting picked on because of his girly looks or his shyness. If it wasn't by his older brother it was some other jerk kid that thought they were funny. Besides me, he had one other friend, Ivan Braginski. Together, we made a group of outcasts who became friends."

"Hmmm…brother you say? Lovino, have we heard anything of the victim having a brother?" Antonio turned to his partner, a confused expression on his face.

"No...I don't recall anyone or anything saying that he had one. How can we know you're not lying Mr. Vasquez?"

"I'm not lying. You could go and check with the parents! Hopefully they'll remember their other son. Although, I wouldn't count on it. Matthew was always a forgotten child. He would tell us stories about how his parents would forget about him while they were on trips or at the mall. He would be forgotten about in class too. The teachers would mark him absent even if he was there. I swear, go check and you'll find more about him."

"Alright. Thanks for your time Mr. Vasquez." Antonio said as he and Lovino got up form their spots on the couch and headed for the door.

"No problem and hey, I may have hated Alfred for what he did to my friend but I never wanted him dead."

"Damn it Feli! Two hours! Two goddamn hours we were in traffic! I told you to find the shortest, least traffic filled route to these people's house and you so conveniently find the exact opposite! How could you confuse the red and green when you aren't even colorblind!"

RING! RING! RING! Feliciano fished out his cell phone, flipping it open with one hand,

"Hello?...Hi! Ludwig! Where are we? Gilbert and I are stuck in traffic leaving the city…What? You don't say…I'll tell Gilbert. Uhuh, yeah we'll ask the parents why. Ok, bye Ludwig!"

"What did my brother want?"

"He wanted me to tell you that Antonio and Lovi found out that the victim had a younger brother. Apparently, he was left out of the initial report about relatives of the victim. Ludwig wanted us to ask them the parents why they never mentioned their other son in the initial report."

"Hmm…Alright. We're almost there. It'll take about ten minutes."

The two continued their car ride until they stopped in front of a light cream colored house. The two partners exited their car and walked up to the front door. Rapping a few times on the wooden entrance, the two waited until an elderly looking woman answered, opening it with a curious look on her face.

"May I help you two?"

"Yes, I'm Detective Gilbert Beilschmidt and this is my partner Feliciano Vargas. We're with the Chicago homicide unit and we're here to tell you that we reopened the murder case of your son Alfred. We just have a few questions to ask you and your husband."

"Yes! Yes, please come in! I thought that this day would never come! My husband and I, we've waited for years for this to happen. We always assumed that the police had forgotten our son's case."

The woman led the two detectives through her house until they reached a common room. There, in a large black chair was a man reading the daily newspaper. He looked up when he heard the others reach the room and when they sat down he folded up his paper.

"Honey," the elderly woman said to her husband, "these two men are here to ask us questions about Alfred."

"Ah, yes. It's been a long time…I thought we'd never see someone from the police department again."

"Yes well, we just have a few questions Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Can you tell us a little about your son?" Feliciano piped up from his seat.

"Alfred, he was a good kid, really, he was. But every kid, no matter how good they are, has their faults and for Alfred it was his tendency to get into fights…

October 15, 1987 4:15 PM

SLAM! "Alfred! What happened? Your face! It's covered with blood!"

Mrs. Jones had been inside the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard the door being forcefully closed. Having wondered where her son was, since she realized that he had not come home from school, she left the kitchen to peer at the door. What she saw horrified her to the core and before she realized it, she ran up to her son and fussed over him like a protective mother hen. What she didn't see was her other son watching her actions at the top of the stairs.

"Here, I'll clean you up."

The two went into the kitchen where Mr. Jones was currently sitting, in his chair at the family's dinner table. newspaper in his hands. Mrs. Jones led her son to a chair and made him sit down. Afterwards, she ran to the sink and grabbed a clean white cloth. After dabbing it with a little water she returned to her patient.

"Good God Alfred! What happened to your face?" Mr. Jones exclaimed when he looked up from his paper.

"Oh, this? I got it in a fight at school. This kid started beating me up so I defended myself. When the principle took us to his office, I didn't even get into trouble!"

"Well you shouldn't." Mr. Jones replied, siding with his son. "Especially since you didn't even start the fight in the first place."

"Oh! Before I forget, and I know that this is kind of sudden, but there's a party tonight. Is it alright if I can go?"

"I don't see why not. It's Friday, although your face looks pretty bad." Mrs. Jones replied to the request.

"It's no big deal Mom."

"Just remember our rules and you can go."

"Yeah, yeah I know. No alcohol or drugs."

"Good. What time will you be back?"

"Between twelve and one. And before you ask, the party starts at six. Someone's coming to pick me up too."

"Alright, just tell us when you leave…"

"And?"

"And that was it. Alfred left at six. He yelled to us as he left the house and jumped into a light blue convertible car. It was the last time we ever saw our son alive."

"We only have one more question. Why is it that you never said anything about your younger son? In the initial report, you never mentioned anything about Matthew. The only way we found out about him was through our interview with a potential suspect."

"We don't forget him! We…we just…"

"We just choose to talk about Alfred more. After all, Matthew is still alive and Alfred is not."

"It was the strangest thing Ludwig, the strangest thing."

Gilbert paced back and forth around his brother's work area, troubled by his newly found information.

" It was as if they just didn't care about this Matthew. It's like they purposely ignored him for their other son. I just can't fathom it. Right Feli?"

"Ve~ it was really strange. Do you think they're hiding something?"

"From what you two are telling me, I don't think so. However, it would be best if we could get an interview with the brother. We just have to find out where he is."

Gilbert, Feliciano, and Ludwig were gathered all around a central desk reviewing the information gathered from the day's work. Suddenly, from behind them, came the sound of running feet. The three looked up from the papers they were inspecting just in time to see Antonio come sliding into their view.

"Boss! We found him! Lovi and I found Matthew! He's at 1298 Water Crest Avenue."

"Water Crest Avenue…why does that place sound so, so strange?...Water Crest Avenue…"

"Gilbert! Stop muttering to yourself and take Feliciano with you. You guys are going to interview Matthew about the day his brother was killed. Now get going." Ludwig yelled from his spot at his desk.

"And Antonio, since you and Lovino aren't doing anything at this moment, you're going to take their spots. I need you two to go over all the old evidence again to make sure we haven't missed anything."

"Right boss!"

"Fine…"

Ludwig sighed, but it was one of contentment. He could feel it. They were getting closer to cracking the case wide open and he could sense that they were closing in on the killer.

"Are you sure we're at the right place Feli? I mean this is a mental institution…"

"Ve~ of course! This time I got the GPS to guide us and I gave you the correct directions. See, look at the address on the front gate. '1298 Water Crest Avenue.'"

"All right, all right. Jeeze, let me just park and we can get on with this interview."

The two detectives exited their car and made their way to the front of the institution. Once inside they went up to the front desk where a woman was on the computer. All around the detectives were people. Some were by themselves, others in tiny groups with other patients. As Gilbert watched the patients interact with each other, Feliciano caught the attention of the lady behind the desk.

"Excuse me, do you know if my partner and I could talk to a patient by the name of Matthew Jones? We're from the Chicago P.D. and we need to see if he has any information that will help us in the case we're trying to solve."

"Matthew…I don't recall there ever being a Matthew here. I'll ask Mark. He's the one who gives all the patients their medicine and interacts with them the most. Oh here he is now."

Gilbert and Feliciano turned their gaze away from the woman and on to the man she was pointing out.

"Mark!" She said as waved him over. "Do you recall a patient by the name of Matthew Jones?"

"Matthew…Matthew Jones…Oh yeah, he's the one with the purple eyes. You know, wavy hair and a curl that kind of springs into his face. What about him?"

"These detectives need to ask him some questions retaining to their case."

"Alright I guess. Come with me, he's usually sitting in the back garden at this time."

The man led the two detectives through the large, plain halls of the institute. After a good few minutes the small group reached two large doors. Abruptly, Mark stopped and turned around to face the detectives.

"I must warn you. Matthew…Matthew believes that he is invisible to other people. Don't be surprised if he looks shocked to see you addressing him. Also, he's painfully shy and talks very quietly. If you want something from him, you can't forcefully take it from him. If you try, he'll retract into himself and won't give you the information he may have. So yeah, I wanted to let you know before we see him."

The two detectives nodded and Mark pushed open the doors. Golden sunlight was cast itself briefly through the halls of the otherwise depressing scenery that was the inside of the institution. He led the small group to a bench, hidden in the back of a medium sized garden populated by many bright and colorful flowers. There on the bench sat a man, golden hair reflecting the rays of the sun, all alone with nothing to keep him company but a stuffed white bear. He seemed to gaze at nothing, not even noticing when Mark walked up to him and placed his rather large hand on his shoulder.

"Matthew," he gave a little shake and watched as large purple eyes were suddenly focused on him. "These men wish to talk to you."

"With me? They can see me?" Matthew turned his head to look at Feliciano then at Gilbert.

"Yes Matthew," Mark answered. "They can. They wish to speak to you about something."

"You can see me…"

"Matthew," Feliciano softly spoke out. "We're here about your brother, Alfred. Do you remember him at all?"

"Alfred…Alfred, my brother…my brother Alfred."

"Yes, your brother. He was murdered in 1987. My partner and I are trying to solve his case. Do you remember what happened on the day he died?"

"Party. He went to a party. He hurt me too before he left."

"What do you mean Matthew?"

October 15, 1987 4:45 PM

"Thanks Mom! Dad! You two are awesome!"

Matthew stood at the top of the staircase listening to what his parents and brother were talking about. He didn't dare go into the same room that contained both his parents and his brother. He knew that he would just be ignored by both parties and that was more painful than being alone. As he began to get lost into his own thoughts, Matthew didn't hear the conversation end or the loud footsteps that came up from the staircase. He did however, continue to stare out into the space in front of him, his mind nowhere to be found.

"Hello Matthew."

The voice startled him back into reality. He whipped his head around and came face to face with his older brother. Startled, he tried to run away down the stairs. As he scrambled, he missed the rather large foot placed in his path and he ended up tumbling down the stairs. Once his fall was complete, Matthew, bruised and a little hurt, looked up at his older brother as laughter began to fill his ears. He watched as Alfred, still laughing walked back to his room, the door slamming shut.

"He went to the party after that didn't he, Matthew?"

Matthew nodded his head in confirmation. He began to stare off at a flower growing near him, not wanting to answer any more questions.

"I guess that's all we're going to get from him Gilbert." Feliciano looked up from where he was sitting with Matthew on the bench.

"Hmmm…I guess we could go. I was really hoping that he could give us another name. We need to tell Ludwig. Maybe he can somehow get a list of the people who were at the party."

"Yeah that would be a good idea. Then we can start interviewing people who might have seen Alfred leave or something."

"Ivan."

The two detectives looked at Matthew, wanting to know more about this Ivan he had mentioned.

"Ivan went to the party. He told me at school. Ivan. Ivan Braginski."

"Did you get that Feli?" Gilbert asked and he stared incredulously at the blonde man on the bench.

"Yep!"

"Good, now we can go tell Ludwig."

"Ivan Braginski was in Alfred's class in '87. Says here that he still lives in the city. Do you think he's our killer, Ludwig?"

"Hmm…Possibly. Feliciano, let me see the report you have."

The smaller Italian handed over the papers containing the information on their next possible suspect. The two were sitting at a different desk in the cold case squad's designated floor.

"Look here," Ludwig pointed out to his partner. "It says that the victim and the new suspect also had a history of fights between them. Could point to a motive. He sounds a lot like our other suspect, Ismael."

"Yeah, a little I suppose…"

"Hey Boss! Anything new?" Antonio asked as he ran up to the pair.

"Yeah, you and Lovino are going to go and interview this Ivan Braginski. He just might be our killer."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Ivan Braginski! This is the Chicago Police Department! Open up! We have a few questions to ask you!" Antonio yelled as he banged loudly on the door. After a few minutes, when no one answered, Antonio turned and faced his partner.

"I don't think he's here Lovi."

"Useless! Here, let me do it." Lovino shoved his cohort out of the way and went up to the door.

"I know you're in there Ivan Braginski! If you don't open up I'm going to break open your door. I'll give you to the count of three. One…Two…Thr-"

The door was rapidly swung open right as Lovino was getting ready to viciously attack the door. There standing at the entry was a rather large man. He towered over the smaller Lovino and looked down into his eyes. A smile, false and misleading, was plastered on his face and cold violet eyes stared deep into chocolate brown ones.

"You wanted to ask questions da?"

"Y-yes." Lovino managed to stutter out. He became relieved as the menacing man turned and let the two detectives into his apartment.

Once they were all seated, Ivan in his large chair and the detectives in the couch, Antonio began asking questions.

"So, uh, Mr. Braginski, we're here to ask you about an Alfred Jones. You knew him in high school back in '87."

"Alfred…I remember him. He always called me a 'Communist Bastard.' I never did get along with him."

"It's also our knowledge that you were friends with an Ismael Vasquez and the victim's brother Matthew Jones, is that true."

"Da, it is. We were very close. Nobody would try to be our friends if we were alone. It's a shame that Matthew was a freshman. He was going to be alone after we left. That's why I gave him my knife at the beginning of the school year when we first became friends."

"Your knife?"

"Da, for protection. Lots of people thought it was funny to hurt him."

"You do realize that it's illegal to bring pocket knives to school right." Antonio asked in disbelief at the statement.

"I know. But Matthew isn't stupid. He wouldn't open it on purpose or in the sight of teachers. I told him that if he used it for show, like showing people before they attacked him that he was armed, they would leave him alone."

"Did it work?"

"I don't know. He never used it since Ismael or I would always be around him."

"O…Ok. Anyway, tell me about what happened at the party the night Alfred was killed."

October 15, 1987 11:30 PM

Music was blaring throughout the house. Ivan watched as two other teenagers filled the red punch with clear vodka, successfully spiking it to a higher level than it probably already was. When they scampered off, he walked over and got himself a cup full of the mixture. He took a swallow full and rapidly regretted his action. He quickly walked off, away from the disgusting concoction that was the party's punch, and located large indoor potted plant. He picked up one of the plants low broad leaves and dumped his drink into the soil.

Satisfied with his procedures, he decided to go and explore the party and see who else had decided they would come. It was almost eleven fifty, meaning that some of the people, himself included, would begin to go home. He did however, want to see all the embarrassing things the others did before he left. That way he could have blackmail material when he needed it, especially if the embarrassing moments were done by the bullies that constantly hawked Matthew.

As he was walking past a rather large window, he saw Alfred stumbling across the street in the direction of his home. Thinking quickly, Ivan decided to follow his enemy for a little while, hoping that it would result in something he could use to get Alfred off of his friend's back.

For the next ten minutes Ivan followed him, all the way to the park close to the Jones' home. He watched as Alfred wandered into the dimly lit playground area of the park and observed the other move closer to the jungle gym. Without warning Alfred looked behind him in the direction of Ivan's large body. Quickly, he dove into the hefty bush planted near the edge of the playground.

From his point in the bush, Ivan tried, but ultimately failed, to get a better look, as the other boy turned around again. Unexpectedly, shouts were heard and the sound of something heavy being beaten on filled Ivan's ears. Moving around in the underbrush, Ivan tried to get a better look at what was happening. Unfortunately, his rustling of the bush's branches and leaves had caused the unknown assailant to stop his attack and run off into the ambiguous night.

"What did you do after the murderer ran off"

"What do you think I did? I ran off too! Went back to the vicinity of the party. There was no way I would be in the same area of where Alfred was murdered. As you know we didn't like each other. If the police back then knew that I was there they would have pegged me as his murderer right on the spot."

"So, you say that Alfred was stabbed?"

"I saw the body before I ran off. I wanted to see if he was still alive but he was dead. Stab wounds covered his body."

"Did you own a pocket knife Mr. Braginski?"

"What brought this up?"

"You said that you gave Matthew a pocket knife. I assume that you had more than one as you gave one away without being paid for it."

"What! No! I gave Matthew my only knife that day, during lunch. When Ismael left to go to the bathroom, I tuned to Matt and handed him the pocket knife. I told him to only use it if he really needed it."

Antonio and Lovino looked at each other at the statement. However, the two didn't say a word and Ivan instantly knew what was going on.

"I know what you're thinking. Matthew couldn't have killed his brother. He was too nice. He couldn't even hurt a fly. He may have hated his brother but he wouldn't stoop so low as to kill him!"

"Mr. Braginski. Are you aware that Matthew is in a metal institution?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Matthew. He currently resides in a mental hospital. Judging by your reaction I would assume that you didn't know."

"Is that why we couldn't find him for the longest time…? Wait, no! Matthew would never do such a thing! I told you before, he would never stoop that low!"

"Well, thank you Mr. Braginski. You were a real help for the investigation." The two detectives got off of the couch and left the brooding and confused Russian in his chair.

The room was cold, cramped and frightening. Matthew sat in a chair behind a large white table all by himself. The silence surrounding him gave way to crushing waves of paranoia. He started shake and nervously clench and unclench his hands. He longed for the soft, comforting body of his white plush bear. When the door to the suffocating room was finally opened, Matthew snapped his head in the direction of the light and the people joining him.

"Hello Matthew!" Feliciano's bright, cheerful voice echoed throughout the room. It did nothing to silence the words only Matthew heard or calm his paranoia.

A pocket knife in a bag labeled 'EVIDENCE' in large, bolded black lettering was deposited in front of him. He casted his large purple eyes downward knowing fully that the knife had once belonged to him.

"Do you recognize it, Matthew?" Ludwig asked as he took a seat next to Matthew. "They gave it to us, the people who work at the institution you were previously living at. They told us that you had it on you when you arrived there for the first time. We know you did it Matthew, that you killed your brother with it. His DNA was located on some of the parts that were unable to be cleaned. There's no way out of this for you. It would be wise for you to tell us why you did it, Matthew. Tell us what happened."

Matthew slowly raised his head to the point where he was looking in the direction of the detectives in the room, but not directly at them.

"They told me to." He whispered.

"Who? Who told you to kill your brother?"

"They did."

The clock read eleven forty five P.M. and Matthew could not sleep. They were just too loud and their noise kept him from getting the rest he deserved. Knowing fully that both of his parents were asleep, he pulled a red hoodie over his head and crept toward his front door. Once outside, he made his way to the park, it was only a ten minute walk after all. The silence of the night and soft glow of the moon softened their noise and Matthew felt more relaxed as he reached the empty park. He climbed upon the jungle gym to the very top and let the light of the moon wash over him in comforting waves. His calm sanctuary was shattered, however, by the sounds of stumbling feet. From his position on the gym, Matthew could see it was his brother with, was that Ivan?, following him at a good distance.

While Matthew was distracted and his defenses were down, They took it as a chance to fill his head with Their voices.

'Kill him!'

'Kill him now Matthew!''

'He's hurt you so much! This is your chance!'

'Do it!'

'Free yourself from his grip on your life!'

'Do it! Do it! Doit! Doitdoitdoitdoitdoit DO IT!'

Grabbing his head Matthew let out a pained yell. He pulled the pocket knife that Ivan had given him earlier out of his back pocket. As he climbed down the gym, his brother drunkenly approached him.

"Matthhhhew?" He slurred. "Whut 'r you dooin h're?"

'Kill him Matthew! He won't feel it. He's drunk and defenseless.'

'Do it. Do it. Doitdoitdoitdoitdoit. DO IT NOW!'

"Shut up! Shut up!" Matthew yelled, tears streaming down his face. He began to slip into the darkness of his mind, led all the way by the voices. "SHUT UP!"

With his last desperate words, he plunged his hand that held the knife into his brother's chest in hopes of silencing the voices. His actions failed, providing power to the growing darkness, whose voices and actions now controlled Matthew's every fiber. Now unable to control his actions, Matthew continued to stab his brother repeatedly until he fell to his knees, tired, bloody, and scared. When he came to his senses, with the help of the rustling of a nearby bush's branches, he stared in horror at what he had done and frightened, ran, hoping to escape the evil sin he had committed.

Once Matthew was finished, Ludwig made him stand up and formally arrested him in the murder of Alfred Jones. Matthew continued to stare unknowingly into space, drowning in the confines of his own mind.

After placing Matthew in a vacant cell and finishing everything else, Ludwig had Antonio call up Arthur to tell him the good news while Feliciano called up Ivan and Ismael to give them the information about their past friend. Internally, he hoped that they would reach out to Matthew and help him with his mental illness.

Feeling overall satisfied with the outcome of the case, Ludwig took the now full evidence box containing all of the paraphernalia pertaining to the Jones case back into the storage room. He found an empty space in the isle he was searching in and placed the box gently down. Taking a large black sharpie out of his pocket, he wrote in big block letters 'CLOSED' at the top of the box. Ludwig then stood up, feeling content and good about closing the case. As he was about to leave the isle and continue his way to the door, he turned to get one good look once more at where the box was located. There, much to his surprise was Alfred giving him a million dollar smile. He waved to Ludwig and disappeared.