Chapter Text
Ezra was neck-deep in a book on the intimate lives of the most famous serial killers throughout history. Fascinating personalities, the lot of them. Some always seemed to be on the fence between good and evil. Minds like that drew him in the most, more than anyone on either extreme. It only took the wrong nudge to cause the most heinous acts, and likely the right nudge would do just the opposite. It was all in the influences, Ezra had always said.
His phone rang and broke him out of the spell he had been drawn into. He warily dragged his mind away from the literature to answer it.
The monotonous voice of Uriel met him, shouting a curt, “Get over here, ASAP,” before hanging up. His head throbbed at the sound. He still had a bit of a hangover from the night before, and his coworkers always made one worse. But, he supposed that sociopathic killers don’t take the weekends off.
Ezra carefully marked his spot with a bookmark, and placed the book on his desk with great care. He would be coming back to that one. He grabbed his coat and headed out to the tube station. Within a few minutes, he was outside the MI5 building.
He headed up to his boss’ office to find the whole team deep in conversation, which lulled as soon as he tapped a little knock on the door. A folder was promptly shoved in his hands, full of particularly disturbing images and descriptions. A woman found dead face-down on a side-walk. She had been assassinated publicly, yet no one had seen it happen. He thought that it was rather amazing. The rest of the office stood watching in silence as Ezra digested the information.
“Well?” Prompted Uriel.
“Well… I should say, this person has quite a flair for the dramatic. What a scene!” He said with a little more excitement than he intended, “That is to say, obviously a sociopathic personality, but another side that’s also sly and creative--”
His prattle cut off by a cough from Gabriel.
Ezra continued, “Yes-- well, I’ll have a look through the records, see if there are any similar cases.”
“Be quick about it. We have strict orders from the top to get this cleared up without a fuss. Have your report ready to present at the next meeting.” And Gabriel shooed Ezra away with the necessary papers.
He made his way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways over to his closet of an office, perhaps the only cluttered room in all of MI5. Stacks of folders, papers, reports filled every inch of the desk. Books about forensic psychology, patterns of serial killers, history of criminal organizations, etc littered the ground in messy piles. A clunky computer perched on his desk, which gave him access to the digitized crime records.
His office neighbor, Shadwell, brought him a cup of cocoa, and Ezra read the briefing much more carefully. Something about the arrogant bombast of the whole affair just compelled him. There was almost no question about it being an assassination -- the victim was a very famous incendiary political writer. But this was not your average sniper-rifle-to-the-head type of assassin. This was an artist, whose medium was blood and bodies. And Ezra was going to catch them.
***
Agnes, though almost clairvoyant in economic and political events, did not foresee her own demise. She was highly paranoid which meant she was never alone, and in public as often as possible. She sought safety in numbers. Anthony found it almost too easy to get through that defense.
Back in his flat, Lucy was already waiting for him.
“Very well done, darling. You deserve a commendation for that job” She ruffled a hand through his hair as a parent would. Anthony loved the contact, but she soon took her hand away. She pulled a stack of bills out.
Anthony took them smirked up at her, “Give me something a bit tougher next time, yeah?”
“If you say so,” She reached into her purse and pulled out a USB drive, “Your next job is all set to go. It should be more to your liking, I presume.”
He snatched the little drive out of her hand, or he tried to. But the woman held it playfully out of his reach.
“That’s not fair! You’ve got high heels on!” He yelled while trying to wrestle Lucy’s arm closer to him.
“Don’t fuck it up.” She hissed before finally relenting, handing it over, and strutting out of the flat.
He called out after her, “Stay! Watch a movie with me!” But she was already gone. And Anthony was alone and bored once again.
***
Hours of research had led Ezra to a few conclusions that fascinated him to no end. Her death was almost painless. While the first autopsy was rather inconclusive, they had narrowed down the true cause of death to some obscure kind of toxin. Not the usual fair, that was the only certainty. Something that was quick, but had a slight delay, allowing the assassin time to leave the scene. There was also morphine found in her bloodstream, extraordinary amounts of morphine!
The morphine was of particular interest to Ezra. It was completely unnecessary for the assassination, the poison would have done its job anyway. It could only serve one purpose. No matter how horrible or depraved the public execution looked from the onset, the assassin didn’t want the victim to suffer.
“There may be some good in you, yet.” He mumbled to the report.
His research continued as he cross-referenced the case with any other case involving assassination via poisoning. What he found was particularly interesting. One previous assassination had some striking similarities, though it was a case that had never been closed due to lack of any compelling leads. A toxin sourced from a deadly snake had been identified as the cause of death of this politician.
The victim was in public like the current case. But, what was most remarkable was the presence of an eyewitness. Someone had seen a person leading the victim away from the street to a private residence. The suspect: a woman! Something quite rare, though not unheard of, in Ezra’s field of study. She was described as having red hair, dark clothes, sunglasses, and a Scottish accent. Cheekbones, quite slender, taller than Ezra. He filled in all the blanks with his imagination. Her hips swayed with a purpose as she marched towards her mark. A low voice whispering in the man’s ear, the unimaginable temptation he would have had to resist, and his inability to do so. She seduced the victim, whisked him away, and the next time he was seen he was stone cold in an alleyway, veins full of poison and painkillers.
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start.
Before he knew it, Shadwell was in his office, loudly informing him he was late to the meeting. He gathered all his scattered notes and ran over to the conference room. He ignored the glares from all his coworkers as he settled into his usual spot.
“So glad you decided to join us, Ezra.” Gabriel spoke, “Since you’re our assassin expert, would you care to discuss your findings?”
He cleared his throat, “She doesn’t want to be -- well, she doesn’t want her victims to suffer. That’s for sure, given the whole… well, administering painkillers with the poison. Spoonful of sugar and all that… Perhaps not as much of a sociopath as I first thought. Just absolutely fascinating.”
“She?” Questioned Sandy in a disdainful voice.
“Oh yes, quite a good discovery, If I do say so. There was another similar case with an eyewitness account, describing a woman who seduced the victim. There are a number of similarities: the publicity, the morphine, the injection site -- I’m quite certain these cases are done by the same people. In fact, I recommend you run some tests for snake venom--”
Gabriel interrupted, “One problem: there’s also a description of this assassin. He is most certainly not a woman.”
“He, she, they, whatever. I’m certain these cases are done by the same people. Let me guess the description: tall, thin, dark clothes--”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Ezra.” Gabriel chided.
“Just--please, run the tests.”
Gabriel hesitantly nodded in Michael’s direction and she left to go make the call. Ezra breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how much they disliked him, they couldn’t deny that his intuitions were often accurate.
“Who was the witness? Can I speak to them?” Ezra asked.
Gabriel looked down at the file, “Agnes’ niece. Woman by the name of… Ana Device. And no, you can’t speak to her. She’s extremely traumatized by the whole ordeal. Practically incoherent.”
“But if she’s incoherent, how can you rely on her description--”
“It’s off-limits! Besides, she’s in France. We both know how atrocious your French is.”
Ezra huffed at the comment, despite its accuracy.
***
Anthony woke up from his nap feeling rather refreshed. It was time to do his next job. He packed light: a wig, a few outfits, a British passport, some toiletries. Everything was already set up for him, which he loved. The paperwork was always the most tedious part of the job, and with his new promotion, he never had to worry about it again. Lucy booked all his flights, filled out all the paperwork for him. It was lovely.
After a quick flight across the channel, he found his hotel room and prepared. He grabbed the file and skimmed it for the most important details: the mark was cavalier about security, distant from his family, and he had a weakness for blondes. Anthony began to unpack all his supplies. Inside the bottle of lotion was concealed a few important vials and some syringes. Inside his shampoo was a sharp knife. And inside his hair gel bottle was hair gel -- he never left home without it.
Anthony put on some music, as he always did. Though his phone was on shuffle, it always seemed to land on Queen, not that he minded much. He danced around the room singing don’t stop me now, ‘cause I’m having a good time, styling her wig and applying makeup all the while.
A plan was forming in her head. One that was starting to sound like fun.
***
Thaddeus Dowling found a note on his desk from one of his closest coworkers. It thanked him for his recent work said happy birthday and hoped he enjoyed the surprise present waiting for him. Politics was a boys club; he knew what this note implied.
He retired to his room, dismissed the secret service without even a thought. Sitting at his personal desk, he found a tall blonde woman in a black dress and sunglasses, with an amazing figure. She sat cross-legged, expecting him.
“Hi,” He said, “Are you my surprise?”
“I am.” She responded, standing up.
Thaddeus quickly approached his desk where he flipped his family portrait down. The woman stiffened a little at that.
“They won’t be back for a few hours.” He then reached out to touch her waist and bring her closer to him.
“You know, you shouldn’t touch people without asking.” She said.
He looked confused.
The woman looked down at the flipped picture frame and continued, “Do you think it’s okay to cheat on your wife? To leave her raising her kid all on her own while you go off and fuck hookers? How could you do that to your kid? To your wife?”
“Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, pulling away. But she got closer. And she placed a hand on his lapel, pushing until he felt the wall hit his back.
“To me, it seems like they’d be better off if you were dead.”
Before fight-or-flight could even kick in, he felt a stabbing in his neck, and a cool rush of relief flew to his head. He just… drifted off.
***
Ezra went into work a bit earlier than usual, he thought that would be appropriate given the urgency of the case. He was surprised to find the rest of the team already present. Gabriel quickly filled Ezra in on all the details. Toxicology report had come in overnight -- he reluctantly admitted that Ezra was on the money about the snake venom. No other leads had been uncovered. Given the public nature of the killing, it would be impossible to pinpoint a DNA sample. The meeting was soon dismissed, hardly furthering the case at all.
Ezra, however, had been anxiously waiting for the end of the meeting. The night before he had hatched a plan that was about to unfold.. As soon as he was out of Gabriel’s sight, he waited along the hallway. He grabbed the intern Newt by the arm and pulled him into a nearby supply closet. The man protested a bit before Ezra shushed him.
“Newt, how good is your French?”
“Um, quite good. I spent a year on an exchange in Paris--”
“Come to France with me,” Ezra whispered urgently and quite close.
“What?” Newt thought this sounded quite like a confession; one he wasn’t prepared for. He suspected that Ezra was gay, but he hadn’t expected anything like this, “Mr. Fell-- I, well, I like you but--”
“We’re going to question a witness. She only speaks French, you see. And I’m a bit out of practice.”
“Oh!”
“Gabriel doesn’t want me there, but for the sake of this case, I just have to speak to her. Hence the secrecy.” He finally let go of the intern’s arm, “So, what do you say?”
“Of course,” Newt mentally scolded himself for his assumptions.
***
Another job well done. Anthony headed home, rather pleased with herself. She flopped on the couch and turned on some TV. Soon enough, Lucy showed up. Anthony smiled up at her, anticipating her sweet praise, but saw her face was just glum.
“There’s a problem.”
“What? Not possible.”
“Yes. You fucked up.”
Anthony used all her efforts to stop herself from saying anything.
“Agnes’ niece. She’s in hospital. The police are waiting for her recovery so that they can question her…” She slowly began to smile, “but accidents happen all the time at hospitals, don’t they?”
Anthony nodded.
Lucy tossed her an envelope, “Ticket to France. Needs to be done by tomorrow.”
“First class?”
“Always, Anthony.”
***
“You lied to her,” Newt whispered.
“Yes, well. How else were we going to get in? They’re only letting family in.”
“I’m starting to think this isn’t a good idea. This feels so wrong. We didn’t even bring flowers or anything.”
“Hush now.”
They reached the correct room and saw a young woman lying in bed with a blank look on her face. The nurse doting over the woman spotted the pair standing at the doorway, and she approached Ezra.
In a most British accent, he began “Um, je suis, erm je suis ici avec le cousin d’Ana. Pour visiter, for a visit.” He gestured towards Newt who waved.
“Oui monsieur, I’ll let you know when she’s ready for visitors.”
“Keep an eye on her, Newt. I need to use the loo.”
Ezra walked down the hallway until he found a bathroom. He began to preen himself in the mirror. First, he adjusted his shirt, trying to flatten out the wrinkles. Then he tried flattening and styling his hair a bit. It always managed to look far too unkempt no matter how much he tried to tame it. Suddenly he heard a voice to his side,
“Keep it messy like that.”
He turned and saw a nurse staring right at him. He must have just come out of the stall, as Ezra was sure the bathroom had been empty before. The nurse quickly adjusted his scrubs and left the bathroom. But not before shooting Ezra a last glance.
Ezra was quite unsure of what to do with himself then. He experimented with fluffing his hair up a little in the mirror and found he began to like it. His curls eagerly bounced out in all directions. It wasn’t quite the dress code he was expected to keep at MI5, but that didn’t matter at the moment, he supposed.
He nodded one more time in the mirror, hair looking light and fluffy, and he finished his business in the bathroom. When he left, the hospital seemed rather quieter than before. He headed down the hallway and spotted something that made his heart stop. A trail of blood on the ground led into the girl’s room.
“Newt?”
Ezra crept up to the room and gasped when he peered inside. Blood everywhere. The nurses, security guards, the witness all lay on the floor in an enormous pool of blood.
“No! No no no!” He ran over and found Ana breathing, ever so slightly, “stay with me, come on, stay with me.” The words poured out of his mouth like blood was pouring out of her wounds. But was too out of it to even notice him. Drugged. And then she was gone.
He heard a shout by the door. Ezra looked up and saw a very pale Newt had just come back, holding onto some flowers he had bought.
***
Another one bites the dust! Anthony hummed the whole way home.