Ooh, you guys are good at this. ^_^ So close . . . Maybe anyways . . . >> Got more clues to plant and more- k, shutting up now.
So enjoy and thanks for reviewing!
And not that I mind or anything but shouldn't be thread be unsticked by now? =/
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Chapter VII:
The black and white fuzz was getting unbearable to the ears so Detective Tony used the remote that controlled the VCR to fast forward to the next scene. Wally, though, snatched the device out of his hand. Tossing it up and down in one hand, the green-haired trainer stated, "I've got another question . . ."
"Another one!" May scoffed, annoyed with the boy and his irritating questions. "Who are you suspicious about now Wood? Professor Birch?" She laughed mockingly. "How idiotic! We all know that the Professor would never try to murder his own son!"
"Ah, that is true . . ." Wally rubbed his chin, causing the girl trainer to roll her sapphire-colored eyes. "The Professor does love his son . . . or he does when he around others." His eyes cast to a dark green shade. "No one knows how the Professor treats his son when no one is around."
"What are you getting at Mr. Wood?" Detective Tony inquired. "The Professor has no reason whatsoever to try and murder his own son and I cannot think of a reason either. This idea of yours is simply idiosyncratic and uncanny!"
"Oh shove that pocket thesaurus up your arse." Wally shook his head. Detective Tony frowned but nevertheless thrust the hand-held thesaurus back into his coat pocket. "Now, I too can't think of a reason why Professor Birch would want to kill his own son but like May, he is the least likely suspect. Dare he shoot his son? To many, he would not. But as for me . . . I think he would."
Norman had confusion written all over his face at this point. "Professor Birch loves his son Wally. He has told me before that he sometimes worries about him while he's traveling even though my daughter is with him."
"Yet . . ." Wally paused, "this morning, Professor Birch was sleeping in his bed when Brendan got shot am I correct?"
"Yes Wood, you are," Detective Tony answered. "But what does-"
"What it has to do with anything is that the Professor was 'sleeping.' " Wally interrupted. "He went to bed at three o' clock right? If you think I'm wrong, I'm sure we can look on the tape and see. He only announced it to the whole world this morning . . ." He rolled his eyes. "I think that's suspicious, like we give a friggin' care that he's going to bed. But anyways, getting back on topic, Professor Birch could of easily climbed out of the window and shot Brendan minutes after May left! And no one would suspect its him, seeing as people thought he went to sleep."
"He does make a good point," Detective Tony frowned. "Jacob, call the officers on duty and tell them to bring Professor Birch downtown A.S.A.P. Tell them its urgent."
Officer Jacob nodded and opened the wooden door. Before leaving, he added, "Aw, does this mean I have to miss watching the por-"
"I said
GO!"
Officer Jacob chuckled and closed the door behind him.
"Now Wally," Detective Tony turned his attention back to the boy trainer in the room, "explain to me how you think that Professor Birch shot his son."
Wally nodded, "Alright then. After the party and after May kissed Brendan good night, more than ten minutes passed. Brendan got a mysterious phone, asking him questions. Five minutes later, the person hung up and Brendan turned around. He probably saw the shadow peeking at him through his window and then the shadow try to kill him. Now, its possible that Professor Birch called his own house on his Pok?Nav and covered the camera part. He most likely knew that Brendan was going to turn around and go back upstairs. That's when he decided to fire . . ." He glanced darkly at the grimy window. "I already explained to you how Professor Birch got down and how he could get away with trying to murder his own son . . . he is a likely candidate."
"Yeah, but the question remains: Why would the Professor want to kill his own son?" Steven asked, puzzled.
"Well . . ." Norman piped up, "Professor Birch was a brilliant man backed when he and I were young trainers traveling. He knew everything about Pok?mon; their attacks, personalities, you name it, he'd answer it. Though the professor didn't always want to be a . . . well . . . professor." Detective Tony handed him his pocket thesaurus who Norman, in return, threw it over his shoulder. "Anyways," he started again, ignoring the fact that the usually mature detective was making faces behind his back, "Professor Birch wanted to be a Pok?mon Master, like young Brendan. But his dreams were crushed when a trainer by the name of Satoshi beat him in the finals. The Professor was furious! He didn't go the Pok?mon Master's Brunch, or the beach party or anything like that! He stayed at home sulking. Back then, he was a sore loser. . ."
"Like Brendan before when he lost battles to me." May giggled, remembering old times.
"Right," the gym leader smiled, "so in conclusion, I think he might be jealous of the fact that his own son got the first dream he wanted causing him to go well. . . mad."
"You shouldn't of thrown that thesaurus away Norman." Detective Tony smirked in triumph.
"Whatever . . ."
"So what your saying is dad that Professor Birch wanted to kill his son for being
champion?" May asked in shock. "Well that's stupid! I would think that the Professor would be proud that a Birch won the Hoenn title for Latias' sakes! I was wondering why he was talking to me instead of his son all last night and this morning!"
"Well, you never know." Wally shrugged in reply. "So, what do you know? We do have a reason why Professor Birch wanted to-" He was cut off as the wooden door slammed open, cracking the chipped plaster wall.
Officer Jacob returned, a grim smile on his face as he gently pushed a man with a small goatee thing going on. He wearing a lab coat, khaki shorts, and a blue button up t-shirt inside of the coat; the outfit of a professor. Professor Birch that is.
Professor Birch growled in the pit of his throat as he sat down grumpily next to Norman.
"Professor," Norman nodded as a greeting. "Welcome to our after party!" he joked.
"Can it Maple!" the Professor grumbled. This entire ideal played with the Professor's usual calm and peaceful carriage.
Wally looked at the Professor and smirked. "Professor Birch. . ." he said slowly, "where were you early this morning when Brendan Birch got shot huh? Out trying to kill him huh? Huh?
HUH?"
"You went over dramatic with the 'huh's'," pointed out May. "One or two is just enough but three . . . whoa buddy!"
Wally ignored May and continued his rant, "I think you tried to attempt homicide!"
Professor Birch raised an eyebrow. "And why so?" he scoffed.
"Because you're the least suspicious and we all know that the least suspicious is always the killer!" Wally replied, smirking. "Am I right or am I right?"
"Er, do we have to answer that?" Norman inquired, rubbing the back of his head.
"No comment," May said simply.
"I'm allergic to answering. . . questions," Steven replied weakly, coughing slightly.
Wally rolled her eyes and paced the length of the desk. His emerald-colored eyes stared at the dusty wooden panels that covered the floor, his arms crossed at his back. The other suspects watched him dully, being reminded of those old mystery movies that were on late at night but then again, the room did have the right setting for it.
"Ah ha!" Wally cried triumphantly, waking up a few people from their slumber. "I know why Professor Birch did it! I remember he shouted that he was going to bed . . . and despite the fact that you may have a woman or two that long for you Professor, I don't think you are the cheating type," Wally smirked, raising his eyebrows as the professor sweat-dropped. "And you could easily climb out your window and shoot Brendan."
The professor shook his head. "There is the questions of how I got down two stories and where I got the gun seeing as I don't have one."
"Ah . . . well," Wally paused and sat upon the cherry wood desk, stroking his chin. "You could of borrowed a gun . . . from NORMAN!" he pointed towards the Normal type gym leader and laughed mockingly. "You could of borrowed the gun from Mr. Maple here! Everyone knows that all gym leaders have a gun hidden somewhere for protection!"
Norman sighed and rubbed his temples. "I told you once and I'll tell you again Wally. I haven't taken that gun out for years! I have never used a bullet on a person! That gun you saw last night was a fake! And if you must know, I left the party five minutes before May. I knew she wanted to 'talk' to Brendan by herself. Therefore, if I did help Professor Birch, it would be pretty hard for me to get outside the house without May being there."
Wally frowned. "But-" he was cut off bu the door slamming open.
An outraged Pok?mon League Champion stood there, his ruby-red eyes burning with flames, a sling over his left arm. He marched angrily up to the green-haired trainer and pushed him off the desk.
Wally landed hard on his back, his green eyes piercing into Brendan's own orbs. "What the friggin' heck was that for Birch!" he spat out, disgusted. "We're in the middle of discovering who shot you this morning ya know!"
Brendan pointed an accusing finger at him, glowering ice cold daggers. "Don't bother anymore. I know who shot me. . . and I happen to be pointing to him right now!"
Everyone in the room gasped except for Wally who only glared back in return.
"And what proof do you have of this?" Wally inquired angrily.
Brendan reached into his pocket and pulled out a ski mask. He turned it outside out with his right hand and showed everyone the inside of it. Green hairs were planted inside it as if they were pulled out when the mask was pulled off.
Wally's eyes widened in horror. "Someone set me up!" he cried, jumping back onto his feet. "I didn't shoot you Brendan, honest!"
"I think the one who was shot and was the only real witness knows more than you do Wood," the white-haired trainer retorted smartly. "Now its my turn to tell my story."
"Oh joy, I can hardly wait," Wally rolled his eyes as he hopped back onto the desk.
Brendan walked the length of the room and sat down next to his girlfriend. He sighed outwardly before starting his tale. "It was a dark, luminous night-"
"I'm sorry Mr. Common Sense Man, how can it be both dark and luminous?" Wally interrupted. "If you look in Detective Tony's handheld thesaurus, the word 'luminous' means bright or beaming and the word dark is . . . well . . . dark!"
"Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted . . ." Brendan ignored Wally's comment, "after I said good night to May over here, with nickname and other things of course," he winked at May, who blushed in return, "I was about to go upstairs when the phone began to ring. Not wanting to wake my parents up, who were already asleep, I went to the kitchen and answered it. A man began to talk . . . his voice was deep or either muffled by a cloth. He kept asking me questions and I was only allowed to say 'yes' or 'no'. The voice's last question was, 'Are you afraid of death' or something like that and I answered yes. It then said, 'Then I suggest you duck' and then hung up on me. I was confused when I hung up the phone; I turned around and I saw a dark-"
"Oh, was this shadow 'luminous' too Birch?" Wally smirked.
"-looming shadow at my window." Brendan glowered at Wally. "I told him that I didn't sign autographs this early in the morning or late at night-"
"Way to sound arrogant there Brendan."
"-but it didn't move. I saw him raise something and using the moonlight as a guide, I saw a gun glint in the pale light. Thousands of thoughts ran through my head and suddenly, unbearable pain shot up through my shoulder. I collapsed and blacked-out. I awoke in the Chansey Hospital in Rustbaro like you all remember and that's my story."
"But you see Mr. Birch, what does that have anything to do with Wally?" Detective Tony asked.
"You're the detective, figure it out!" Brendan challenged.
"Well, how is he suppose to figure it out when you don't explain yourself clearly?" Wally remarked. "You told us that you think that I shot you . . ."
"And I have the proof!" Brendan replied as he waved the ski mask in the air.
"A simple ski mask and a brush with a few strands of my hair could easily make that 'proof' you have there Birch!" Wally regarded, crossing his arms. "And your story only told the facts that we already know, not teach us anything new. While you may have the brain span of a gnat, not everyone in this room does too."
Brendan only chuckled. "Ah but, as I do recall, you spent the night in one of your other friend's house in Littleroot right?"
"So?" Wally questioned, confused.
"Well, your as much likely a suspect as Norman, May, or my dad too! So don't tell them that just because they live near me, they are the most likely to also attempt murder. Because then you would also be accusing yourself. Your one of my biggest and worst rivals Wood and you have many reasons to try and kill me."
"That is true," Wally admitted, "but still . . . no reason, no good."
Brendan scowled coldly at his rival. "I've always wondered. . . how and where do you get all your information? Hmm . . .? You know too much for your own good Wood! Now doesn't that sound suspicious?"
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Looks like were going back to Wally huh? Thanks for reading!
LaTeR dAyZ!
