Chapter Text
Flick stares at the polaroid in his hands. Eyes squinted, eyebrows frowned, the type of look that says a lot more than what the few words he uses daily can say—he’s never been a fan of small talk and would rather save his speech for the useful stuff, Pedri knows it. Finally, Flick places the photo down. “Are you sure this was taken by the same person that killed Kylian?”
“It’s an assumption.” When Flick questions it like that, it genuinely seems like a dumb conclusion to make. “I mean, it could be someone else. But-”
“Polaroids are really popular these days. My daughter just bought a camera a week ago.” Flick sighs. He doesn’t seem convinced. “Look, Pedri. I would never overlook your judgement. You know you’re the last person on this office I wouldn’t trust. But we need more than this. For now, focus on finding clues about Kylian and let the Monaco police take care of this. There’s not much we can do in their territory.”
“But, Flick-”
“I’ll let them know about the polaroid. But they already tracked down their suspects. And here we have basically nothing, so we have priorities settled. Please, go with Eric to Madrid again. We have a witness that was there at the party when Kylian disappeared. I want you to be there and take notes while Eric interviews her.”
“Alright.” Pedri sighs. He realizes maybe he's just being stubborn, and the gifted child in him that used to beg for validation from his teachers is taking over again. “I’ll be working right on it.”
Flick gives him a restrained side smile. “Good.”
Pedri knocks at the forensic lab on the other side of the floor. “Fermín?”
Fermín doesn’t take long to open the door. “Hey, Pedri.” He smiles. “Come on in.”
The place brings Pedri back to his days in high-school and college labs with those bright fluorescent lights, the cold air, and that sharp chemical scent of alcohol wipes and rubber gloves. The metal tables lined with scanners, fingerprint dust, and coffee-stained folders are also nothing short of nostalgic and Pedri can recall when he did an internship in a lab exactly like that. A whiteboard in the corner is filled with Fermín’s messy notes—half forensic patterns, half inside jokes. It’s organized chaos. Familiar, in a way Pedri finds almost comforting, even with the blood samples, weapons that have been used to kill people and everything that is akin to morbid.
“Forgive me for the mess, didn’t really have time to clean it up. So, what brings you here?” Fermín asks. “Didn’t expect you to be back from Monaco so early.”
For a second, Pedri almost forgets that’s why he’s there. There are people being killed by mysterious, devilish hands and he needs to solve that.
“Yeah, there wasn’t much we could do there, the Monaco police was already all over the place and they were hesitant to let us investigate. Ferran tried to convince them over the phone that we suspected that it might have something to do with a case we’re investigating, but I bet they thought we were just trying to boss them around in their own territory. I get it, to be honest.”
“Yeah. International relations are not my favorite things in the world, definitely,” Fermín says.
“Neither they are for me, that’s why you stay in the lab with people’s blood samples, I track down complete psychos and Ferran gets the phone calls.” They chuckle. “Now, speaking of tracking down psychos. Can you do me a solid?”
“Sure, what is it?”
Pedri picks up the polaroid he found at Karim’s yacht from his pocket. “I need to find out if Kylian’s killer took this. Do you think you can do it?”
Fermín grabs the photo and stares at it for a few seconds. “Interesting. Where did you find this one?”
“In Karim’s yacht’s kitchen, stuck on the fridge’s door. You had to see it, it was such an outlier. All the other pics were so different from this one. If I can find concrete proof that the two cases are intertwined… Then maybe I’ll get Flick’s trust to fully investigate everything.”
“I see. Cool. I can try to find some fingerprints on the two photos and try to match them. I’ll talk to Rapha as well. Maybe he can trace where the polaroid film was purchased, and if it’s the same for both pics.”
“That would be incredible. Do you know how long it would take?”
“Uh, these things generally take up to two days. But, if it’s urgent, I can try to get it done by tomorrow morning. Pull-up an all-nighter here and see how things go. I have a date tonight with Berta but we can schedule it for sometime later.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s doing great, she’s been doing some modeling jobs across Spain. Really busy, like I am. But we manage to see each other when we can.”
“That’s nice. She seems really nice. You should be grateful she even agreed to date you,” Pedri laughs.
Fermín rolls his eyes playfully. “At least one of us is not gonna die a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
“At this point, you’ve become one again.”
“Just because I don’t get laid every week doesn’t mean I’m a virgin again.”
“Alright, but do you ever get laid?”
“Well. Let’s stick to business.” Pedri laughs, but it’s true. He doesn’t remember the last time he shared a bed with someone. Maybe that one girl he met when Ferran took him clubbing, and that was for sure at least over eight months ago. He doesn’t really mind. If he’s feeling horny he can just jerk off, and he doesn’t feel like bringing someone into his life emotionally. Not with the way he lives, always chasing danger into the unknown. And, to be brutally honest, Pedri just gets bored of everything, including people, very easily. None of it would be fair with the other person.
“Alright.” Fermín chuckles. “I’ll let you know once I have information on this.”
“Awesome. Thanks, Fermín.”
“Her name is Daniela, she’s a twenty eight year old woman who is the daughter of the owner of one of the companies that hosted the party,” Eric states as they stop the car by the witness’ house, protected by high brick walls and grid gates with a fancy design, something from the 1600s, if Pedri still remembers that kind of thing from the History classes he took in highschool.
Eric rings the intercom and tells the doorman they’re from CNI and they’re here to interview Daniela, as scheduled. He asks them to wait for a few minutes before opening the gates.
They drive through a path towards the house, in the middle of a beautiful garden. It is well taken care of, with flowers of all types, from carnations to azaleas to dahlias to sunflowers. It’s a pretty environment, Pedri would enjoy living there. The house’s gigantic. An old mansion in the middle of the woods. It has dozens of windows and the door is wide.
When they step out of the car, there’s a butler waiting for them. He guides them inside, which is no less fancy with the blood-red carpet, high columns and aristocratic paintings, and takes them to a giant room upstairs with an empty dinner table where they are offered drinks. Eric gets some whiskey, Pedri plays it safe with sparkling water.
Daniela arrives shortly after. She’s tall and blonde, and wears a business casual outfit that shows she’s about to head off for work. “Hello.” She greets them. “I am Daniela, nice to meet you. I hope you’ve been treated well here. The weather is very nice today, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. It’s my favorite. Not too cold, not too warm,” Eric chuckles, Pedri nods with a smile that he hopes isn’t too fake. He gets why Flick despises small talk. It's so pointless. Just go straight to the freaking point. “I’m Eric, this is Pedri, we’re from the CNI, and, as you know, we're investigating Kylian Mbappé's passing and we’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Alright.” She smiles and sits down.
“To start, can you tell us more about your relationship with Kylian?”
“Well, we didn’t know each other much. I used to hear on the news about him. I know from my dad that his group was trying to make some big moves on the market. But I don’t directly deal with that kind of thing so I wasn’t really involved with him.”
“I see.” Eric replies, Pedri takes notes. “So, did you see him at the party?”
“I did. A few minutes before people started asking where he went. I was near the bar and he was there, too. He was… Weird, to say the least. Kept checking his phone, he seemed tense, I saw he wasn’t really enjoying the vibes. I thought it was just business getting to his head, because that kind of thing happens, you know. But then he left his drink on the counter, almost untouched, I think. I saw him heading towards the restrooms. Then, he vanished.”
“And did you notice anything else unusual? With Kylian, or in the party?”
“Well, yeah. Security was looser than usual. Like, some of the regular guys weren’t there. And I noticed one of the cameras near the restrooms wasn’t working. And there was… There was a guy that no one really knew. Someone said it was the new bartender and it was a last-minute replacement. He looked young, way too young to be working there. And he stayed there for a very short period of time. Someone else took his place shortly after.”
“Did you see him talking to Kylian?”
“No. But I think he was the one on the counter when Kylian got the drink.”
“Could you describe him physically?”
“Not very tall, brown haired. He looked cute. I couldn’t really see from afar. But, yeah, one of my dad’s associates is from Poland and he said they talked and the guy knew some Polish. Don’t know if that helps, but.”
It is all so intriguing. How did he manage to turn off the camera in between drugging and kidnapping Kylian? Maybe he is just that much of a sneaky genius, a tech master, even. But that doesn’t explain how security was loose. He must have had a team backing him up, maybe he works for someone else. Someone powerful. And the Polish thing is just another piece on the puzzle. It says nothing by itself, but, if gathered together with more information, it could mean something.
Eric and Daniela talk for a bit more before he and Pedri leave Daniela’s house. Pedri should feel relieved, this is the most information they’ve got in days. But there’s this feeling punching him to the gut that says this killer is still very much unattainable.
Not for long, though. Pedri is determined to understand him, to stop him. Whatever it takes.
The office has been doing what they can. Eric has been back and forth interviewing witnesses, Ferran is in constant contact with the Interpol and other associations, Fermín has been trying his best with the samples he has. Rapha has been looking for more digital footprints of the alleged killer. Flick is trying to prevent everyone from going crazy.
Pedri won't admit it, but he kind of is.
He’s not used to this. To not have answers delivered to him very soon because he’s just clever like that. Time is ticking and he still has so much to work on, has to trace the lines of a face he sometimes dreams about, a brain he has no clue about. And he despises not knowing things. If he doesn’t, who is going to do it for him?
Pedri usually tries to separate his personal and professional environments. But, these days, he can’t think of anything else but the killer. Even when he’s home trying to chill to some Netflix or football he thinks of polaroids and sprinkles on frappes and knowing Polish and eyes that were out of this world.
It’s one of those days. Instead of resting, he’s on his bed at two in the morning, going through the CNI database trying to figure things out. He’s almost falling asleep on his laptop and he hasn't found anything he can work with. He is on the verge of giving up for the time being, for he feels like this is all pointless work.
He didn’t expect to get a call from Fermín at that time, but maybe the blond knows that, at this point, everyone in the office would pick up the phone this late if it meant getting closer to the assassin that has been chasing them in feverish dreams.
"Hey, what's up?"
“Hey, Pedri, sorry, it’s really late. But I have something. I’m in the lab right now, Rapha left a bit ago. But we are very sure that those two pictures were taken using the same camera.”
“Fuck. This is great. Okay. Fuck, it’s amazing. We’ll talk about it tomorrow in the office. Thank you, Fermín. Really. Thank Rapha for me as well.”
Fermín says he’s got to go home and hangs up. Pedri almost jumps out of his bed straight to his fridge to grab his bottle of vodka and drink a few shots with bliss. Maybe this case has been hard, but it’s making him euphoric, it’s been a while since he’s felt like this. So light yet full of energy, ready to explode.
But he knows it’s not the time to let that feeling sink in. It’s not enough. He wants more.
Drunk in the motivation that Fermín’s finding gave him, Pedri goes through the online archives at a faster pace now. He’s so sure Kylian and Karim share a killer and he is a bit childish and a wannabe photographer. And, whoever this person is, he’s not a rookie, so he couldn’t have come from nowhere. He has to have some sort of record, at least.
Half an hour after Fermín hangs up, Pedri finds something.
It’s the criminal record of a guy named Pablo. He was involved in cases of theft and physical violence when he was fifteen, and has bunch of other serious infractions starting from that point. The last thing in the list is that he went to jail in Spain for qualified murder, but escaped around a year ago and hasn’t been seen ever since. His record hasn’t been updated beyond that.
There’s some other personal stuff, too. His parents died in a plane crash when he was very young. He lived in a foster home. Went to a juvenile facility for young criminals in Spain. Attended a private rehab institution in Poland for a few months.
Poland.
Pedri’s heart races at that and he feels every drop of the flaming adrenaline rushing through his veins. Whoever this Pablo guy is, he might actually be the killer Pedri has been dying to know about. And he feels an urge to find him that’s borderline biological.