Pumpkin Prompt 5 - Chilly
@wolfstarmicrofic October 5, word count 662
Because I am nuts and a few of you have asked for it, I've written a second part to Prompt 3 - Foggy. It is definitely going to be more than two parts.
The air had turned chilly by the time the crime scene had been cleared. He’d volunteered to search the house where he’d hidden the suspect, and as he had searched it, no one else felt the need to double-check the building.
He crouched before the slumped man and studied him for a while. He was tall, much taller than Sirius himself was, but also a lot slimmer. Sirius squinted his eyes and imagined that under the thick wooden jumper, the man was quite skinny with very little fat to protect him from the harsh temperature drops at this time of year.
The blood that coated him from top to toe had dried and darkened, flaking off in some places. Sirius reached out and nudged him until he began to stir.
The man woke with a jolt, his eyes whirring around the room. They landed on Sirius, and he kicked out, pushing himself backwards across the bare floor.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Sirius ordered, but it was of no use; the man was terrified.
Sirius sat on the ground, showing his empty hands to the man and waiting for some of the panic to leave his body.
“Who, who are you?” The man asked, his voice hoarse and deeper than Sirius had expected.
“My name is Constable Black. Sirius,” he introduced himself. The man's eyes bulged out of his head.
“It wasn’t me, I swear! I had no idea that’s what he was going to do. I tried to help her, but there was so much blood!” The man cried out, trying and failing to get to his feet. His hands were still bound behind him, throwing him off balance.
“And just who are you talking about?” Sirius questioned further. The man swallowed and shook his head.
“I can’t tell you that. He’ll kill me if he finds out I talked.” The man had a lilting accent that Sirius hadn’t heard in London before.
“Where are you from?” He asked, making mental notes of everything the man said and did for his notes later.
“Wales,” the man admitted.
“Lupin. Remus Lupin. Please, you have to believe me, I didn’t do it,” Remus pleaded with him. He was being remarkably forthcoming with information, all that is apart from the identity of the killer.
“Remus,” Sirius said gently, dropping his curt law enforcement voice. “I believe you. But I need to capture the man who killed that poor girl out there,” Remus’s eyes darted towards the window.
“Please, he’ll kill my parents,” Remus’s eyes were watery with tears trying to break free. He tried to get up again, yanking his arms against the manacles.
Sirius could tell he wasn’t going to get anywhere with that line of questioning. He needed to befriend Remus, get his trust so that he would eventually reveal the killer's identity.
“I can’t let you go, Remus, but I also won’t arrest you,” he added when Remus’s eyes darted around the room wildly again. “I’m going to take you back to mine. Get you cleaned up and a hot meal in you, then we can talk some more and see if we can’t come to some sort of arrangement,” Remus looked at him warily.
“Why should I trust you?” Sirius stood up and dragged Remus up by his arm.
“Because without me, you would be enjoying a pleasant night at His Majesty's Pleasure and would greet the sunrise with a noose around your neck,” Remus gulped.
“Not too far,” Sirius chucked and, using a tiny key, unlocked one side of Remus’s manacles before quickly locking the empty cuff around his own wrist. “Can’t have you running off,” he said, answering Remus’s unspoken question.
Sirius took Remus out the back of the property into a dark alley and into the foggy night. He’d get to the bottom of this case; he just hoped that Remus’s lips would unstick themselves where the killer was concerned.
