Serial killer landoscar again?
SERIAL KILLER AU | LANDOSCAR
Sorry for the delay but here you goo:) so I might have taken some inspo from my very early stories [when the story comes to an end (will it be the same again)] cause the plots a bit similar and I sadly ditched it before it reached completion, but I hope you enjoy :)
Oscar's hears his phone ring at seven in the morning and he finds himself dragged down the stairs and into a crime scene in less than fifteen minutes.
Oscar was in awe of the damage. That is to say- the absolute nothing it gave away.
The warehouse was a wreck, just as it had always been- the rooms were devoid of their doors and the lights flickered from their hanging wires while the walls remained a ghastly white as four pair of feel walked through in silence.
"Our UNSUB strike again," George kicked at a piece of rock, "Take a look around, this place gives me the creeps"
The building was torn, dust rising It took a little longer- not like he had been expecting anything at all- that his eyes spotted the smallest of somethings.
A glitter of gold beneath worn pipes.
He reaches out alomost on instinct- eyes furrowing to understand what exactly it was before a hand reaches out-
"What is that?" a quick glance confirms its Max.
The dutchman was wearing a plain shirt, blonde hair still a little wet and lips curled as he looked where Oscar continued to stretch his hand. "Didn't take you to be one to forget the procedure Piastri"
"Can we get forensics to take a photo- its evidence" If he ignores the jab, its on purpose.
"It is a keychain-from the looks of it" Max replied pointedly, shifting slightly as the pictures clicked- then with gloved hands, reaches for it.
And Oscar sees it and knows exactly what hes looking at. Its a simple one, a formula 1 car about the size of 5cm and plated in gold. He knows exactly what it is, because Lando owns a similar one too.
Oscar will ask him about where he got it from soon, he did remember the Brit saying it was a limited collection item.
"real gold plating," Max whistles lowly, "our UNSUB's loaded"
"might be the victims" oscar points out.
"victims about 45 years old- don't think he cares for gold plated keychains of cars"
"people have their interests" Oscar chewed at his lips, knees slightly burning from his crouched position.
Max shrugs, "From this, I'm guessing age is around late twenties-"
"University? Thats too young"
"Well have to edit the file"
"Oscar, Max- We checked the CCTV footage"
"Anything?" Oscar knew he was being too hopeful, making his way towards George's desk- last times there had been nothing- but from the way Russell was tapping his fingers against the file in his arms, he suspected maybe they were lucky.
"Its five seconds of a clip before full blackout- the UNSUB injured the electricity lines, but I think you might want to see it"
The computer setup was stashed in a corner, a man furiously tapping his fingers against the keyboard while Oscar dragged a chair closer.
The footage was blurry, grey and black and static in the corners yet Oscar squinted the minute he saw a figure make its way into the frame. The person was jumpy, running inside with a speed and yet his eyes were trained backwards.
The UNSUB makes his way in a few seconds later- and Oscar hears Max gasp softly.
The man-boy?- walks with the ease of a predator who knows hes already won. There is a knife in his palms and though theres no voice, from the way his face moves- Oscar can tell hes whistling.
Baseball cap on the head, a body which favoured its right side more than its left and hands which didn't shake when the first strike was thrown.
If he had been new, it would have made him sick.
And then there were the shoes- the shoes were suddenly obvious, the logo screaming itself very prominently into his face, "pause"
Click. "The shoes- they're Jordans-"
"But they're the limited versions, Lando has the same pair and he wears them everywhere because supposedly they are far too valuable to be left at home" He ranted, mind whirling. "About twenty were made, I believe? That narrows down the list, right-"
"Yes but what if they're fake?"
"Boss- with the little keychain we found I don't think they're fake" Max cuts in- before pointedly looking at Oscar.
"You owe me ten bucks mate"
The apartment felt too quiet for the rush they were in, the kind of quiet that pressed against Oscar’s ears and making him notice details he usually ignored—the hum of the fridge, the faint smell of detergent, the way Lando avoided the mirror by the door.
Oscar was already reaching for his keys when movement caught his eye. Something about the ease in Lando’s shoulders- the way his feet moved as he walked- it reminded him of something and yet- what?
The was already making his way towards the door, shuffling for the jacket hastily shoved into the cupboard and watching Oscar do the same.
Suddenly, Oscar's hands still as he grabbed a black sweatshirt, the fabric is plain and yet feels like silk, and for some reason- the deja-vu rises back in Oscar’s stomach.
"New jacket?" Oscar saw Lando's hands freeze in the oversized puff of his jacket sleeves for the slightest of a second as he held up the jacket.
"Testing out some material for the new collection, nothing much"
Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Right"
"Never said you weren't" Oscar didn't know why he was playing the placid cop, but it seemed to be leading to a very different side of Lando.
"Whatever mate," Lando groaned finally, reaching for his phone. "Got to go"
Oscar hummed, watching the other put one foot out the door and suddenly pause.
"Hey Osc?" Lando looked him straight in the eye, biting his lip with a pause too large to be the usual case of him just forgetting his words. "Let me know if anything else happens today, yeah?"
"Interested, aren't you?"
"Yea- you got me into this mate, better keep up the enthusiasm now why don't you?"
And without waiting for Oscar's reply, with the last shuffle of his feet and a backward glance at the cupboard which went unnoticed by the Australian who stared intensely at his nervous roommate- Lando disappeared down the hallway.
