Chapter Text
Ben was late again. The ‘you done fucked up’ alarm he had set with the most obnoxious sound his phone could make shot through his head. When he looked at it, he had three missed calls from the chief.
Fuck.
He was out the door before he was fully conscious. He popped a stick of gum in the cab, dragged his fingers through his hair, checked his shirt for stains.
The moment he walked through the door, Poe met him with a black coffee.
“You look like shit.”
“Overslept.”
“You reek of alcohol.”
Ben rolled his eyes and lifted an arm to check and… yeah. Poe was right. He smelled like a barroom floor.
“Chief's pissed you're late. Your new partner is waiting.”
Ben burned his tongue on the coffee, but it took some of the fuzziness out of his head. “Fucking christ, this shit again?”
“You need a partner, Ben,” Poe muttered in exasperation.
“We were a good team.”
Poe shrugged. “Not good enough. Shit happens, Benny. Get in there before Skywalker murders you.”
Ben made a face and pushed open the door to the Chief's office.
He wasn’t happy. He stared up at Ben with his mouth in a thin line and sheer disappointment in his eyes. “Benjamin.”
Ben shrugged with one shoulder. “Traffic.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. When he finally moved, it was to motion to someone sitting behind Ben on a bench and he said, “Ben Solo, meet your new partner.” Ben whirled around and tried not to let his sheer disbelief show.
His ‘new partner’ was a little girl. At least she looked that way. She was shorter than Ben by at least six inches, slight and lithe and, in Ben’s honest opinion, far too pretty to be in law enforcement. A face like that belonged somewhere with a...more lax dress code and no chance of acquiring a broken nose.
She bounced to her feet, a wide smile on her face, and stuck out her hand, talking over the chief before he could finish introducing her. “Rey Kenobi, Detective Solo. I’m so pleased to meet you.” Ben grudgingly stuck out his hand, and Rey shook it with a grin.
“Ben,” Luke said, smiling, “I think you and Kenobi will be a good team. I--”
Ben cut him off. “You’re joking right?”
“Why would I be joking?”
“No, I mean.” Ben turned and glared pointedly at Rey before looking back to Luke. “I need a partner who can watch my back. If you would just reassign Poe--”
“Dameron doesn’t want to partner with you anymore, Ben. He’s happy with his K9 unit. You’re the one who screwed--” Luke paused deliberately and Ben felt his ears go red. “That up so I don’t have much of a choice in having to reassign you. Kenobi’s green but she’s got promise. She needs a teacher.”
“I don’t--” Rey began sharply.
Ben groaned loudly. “Fine. But you owe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, kid,” Luke muttered, sounding alarmingly like his ex-brother-in-law. Ben scowled and pretended not to see the way the girl was glaring at him, arms crossed over her thin chest.
“I’ve got a body for you two. You’re lucky, Ben. I almost gave Phasma and Finn first dibs, you were so late.”
Ben sipped his coffee and tried to ignore his burned tongue. “What is it?”
Luke’s lips got thin. “From the looks of it, another General murder. But something’s off. I’m a little worried we might have a copy cat on our hands. His name is Snoke. He’s a businessman, runs a company called First Order Acquisitions. Cause of death appears identical, but choice of victim is a real deviation for the General. Here’s the file. You and Kenobi get on it now.”
“A copy cat,” Ben muttered, the hairs on the back of his neck lifting as he studied the sparse file. “It would have to be a damn good copy. His crime scenes are immaculate. I don’t even think I could leave a scene that flawless.” Ben paused, eyes glazing as he looked at the page. That was an odd thing to say.
When he lifted his head, Luke was staring at him thoughtfully. “Then our guy has branched out. Whatever the case, I trust you’ll figure it out.” Luke smiled and Ben tried not to squirm in discomfort. Luke had a habit of making Ben feel guilty for every misstep he’d ever taken in his life just by smiling at him. He really shouldn’t have been so late.
“Yes, sir.” Ben turned and tugged the door open, motioned for Rey to go first. She marched out, head stiff on her neck, a slight chill that was most certainly directed at Ben sparkling in her eyes.
“And Ben?” Luke added in an undertone before Ben could follow her. “Take a shower.” Ben grunted; Luke frowned at him. “Your mother is worried about you.”
Ben groaned at the ceiling and shut the door on Rey. “She has nothing to be worried about, Uncle Luke. I’m fine. The world doesn’t come crashing down around my ears every time someone breaks up with me.”
Luke shrugged. “We both know Poe’s not just anyone. Are you sure you don’t want to take a few days off? Just to get your head in order.”
“We broke up six months ago . I’m a grown man. I’m fine. And I have a serial killer to catch. One mom is enough for me, alright?”
“Alright, alright. And Ben? Take it easy on Kenobi. She’s got a lot of promise.”
“By Kenobi, do you mean--? I mean, it’s not exactly a common name.”
“His granddaughter.”
Ben nodded, head spinning a little. “I thought he didn’t have kids.”
“So did I. I guess we were wrong.”
Ben stared at Luke for a long moment and then silently stepped out.
He had a stick of deodorant in his desk. He had to fish around for it, knock aside the flask he kept in his bottom drawer, and the gum, the bottle of pills, and a pile of empty chip bags and office supplies he hadn’t cleaned out in God knew how long.
He yanked his shirt up, stridently avoiding acknowledging the way Rey was glaring at him with her arms crossed, and swiped the stick under his arms to hopefully cover up the scent of metabolizing liquor with something that apparently smelled like ‘Eagle Claw.’ Whatever the fuck that meant.
When he lowered his shirt, she was staring at him with her pert little nose wrinkled. “Do you always wear jeans and a T-shirt to work?”
Ben scowled and noticed for the first time how well dressed she was-- her brown hair was pulled back in a weird little braid that looked like it had three levels, and she was wearing a perfectly pressed white button-up over tan slacks and what he imagined was a very stylish gauzy...open shirt… thing. He always forgot what those were called.
“Only when I’m trying to piss the Chief off,” he replied, dropping the deoderant back in the drawer and fishing out the pill bottle.
Rey snorted and Ben glanced at her in surprise. So she had a sense of humor at least. That was something.
“Hey, Solo! Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Ben looked up to find Phasma standing at her desk and leering at Rey with a truly terrifying expression on her face.
Rey lifted her brows and tilted her head back to track Phasma’s head, hovering about a foot above her own.
“Rey, Phasma, Phasma, Rey,” Ben drawled, dry swallowing four excedrin and kicking the drawer closed.
“Hi!” Rey said brightly.
“Well, aren’t you adorable!” Phasma said cheerfully.
Rey scowled. “I wouldn’t say--”
“Leave her alone, Phasma,” a bright voice said from somewhere by Phasma’s elbow. “She’s already got Ben to deal with, she doesn’t need you too.” Finn took a step forward, holding out his hand, and said, “I’m Finn!”
Poe was next, bounding across the room with BB-8’s leash in his hand and a huge grin on his face that Ben noticed didn’t fully reach his eyes. Rey shook all the hands that were thrust at her, smiled, repeated each name as it was spoken.
Ben flipped through the folder while he waited for her to make the rounds. Rey spent the most time crouched on the ground, scratching BB-8 behind the ears.
Ben couldn’t help glancing at the german shepherd with a bit of malice. It wasn’t her fault Poe had decided he’d rather partner with a dog than with Ben, but it still didn’t endear her to him.
He’d always been a cat person anyway.
“If you’re done playing with mutts,” he said finally, sparing Poe a decidedly vicious look, “We’ve got a case to get on. So.”
“Oh, now you’re in a hurry?” Rey demanded startling laughter from all three of the people standing in front of her.
Ben scowled again. “I mean, the guy’s not getting any deader I guess. Maybe a little riper.”
Poe cleared his throat and muttered, “And speaking of ripe.”
Ben shoved off from his desk and pushed through all of them. He shouldn’t have made fun of Poe’s stupid dog. But still.
By the time he hit the sidewalk, Rey had caught up to him. “The Chief said this was a General case? You’re working on the General case?”
“Yeah. It’s mine. I mean we’re all working on it, but I’m the lead. What do you know?”
“Just what’s been in the papers. Guy carves stars on the shoulders of the people he’s killed?”
Ben nodded grimly. “Anywhere from one to four stars on each shoulder. We still don’t know why. There doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern to it.” There hadn’t been much the papers hadn’t said-- mostly because Ben hadn’t found much of anything at any of the crime scenes. All six of the victims were different-- there were four men, and two women, all of varying race, and age. They were all petty criminals-- that was the only thing they seemed to have in common, but even the crimes were different. Drug offenses, DWI, domestic assault, theft, prostitution, the list went on.
But it looked like the newest body was going to fuck up even that almost-pattern.
“You drive?” he asked her.
“Yeah, why?”
“You can drive. We’re heading to the crime scene.”
“What, you don’t drive?”
Ben rolled his shoulder. “I don’t have a car.” That had been the agreement. Luke would make the DWI disappear if Ben put down the keys for a while. He’d parked his Honda Civic SI at his mother’s and hadn’t touched it in nearly half a year.
“Weird,” Rey said brightly, wrinkling her nose. “Car’s this way.”
Ben followed her.
~~~
Rey drove a Volkswagon Beetle. Ben actually swore when she clicked her keys and the canary yellow bug beeped in response.
“What?” she demanded.
“Figures you drive a fucking VW bug.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just… not very… detective-y, is all.”
“Detective-y.”
“Yeah. Detective-y.”
“And ripped jeans and a t-shirt are?”
“Hey, fuck you, alright? I had a late night.”
Rey smirked at him and climbed into her car. Ben was forced to follow.
He barely fit. His broad shoulders and long legs didn’t quite want to fold into the bubble of the passenger seat. Maybe he would quit drinking. Just long enough for Luke and Leia and fucking Poe to stop trying to claim he had a problem. Ben could drive his own fucking car, for Christ’s sake.
Like he gave a shit what they thought anyway.
“So how come you and Poe split?” Rey asked the second the door closed.
“What?” Ben asked, startled.
“Dameron? Not your partner anymore? How come?”
Ben peered sullenly out the window as Rey pulled out of the parking deck and maneuvered onto the street. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated like actually complicated or complicated like you two were boning and then you broke up?”
Ben turned his head and peered at her in absolute amazement.
Rey grinned. “So the second one then. Thought so.”
“Why. How. Why would you think that?”
“You mean aside from the Chief's comment about ‘screwing?’ Dameron’s got tells. When he introduced himself, he was smiling but not with his whole face. And he only looked at you when he was insulting you. And he stared at your ass when you stormed out.”
Ben made a sound that was half disbelieving and half impressed.
“And every time someone brings him up you look like you want to punch them. And then when you said you didn’t want a new partner--”
“Alright, fuck, I got it, you can read people. Jesus.” Ben shook his head, disconcerted. He’d never been on the receiving end of such a read before-- usually it was him freaking out some new acquaintance or a suspect with his uncanny ability to tell what someone was thinking just by looking at them. Now he almost felt bad for them, if it had felt anything like that had.
“So what happened?”
“What do you mean what happened?”
“Like, did he dump you, you dump him, what happened?”
“You want me to gossip? ”
“We’re partners now, right?”
“I guess.”
“So partners talk. Let’s talk.”
Ben smiled in spite of himself. Rey was charming. Sharp. Confident. Not afraid of him-- and that was impressive because most people found him at least a little intimidating on a good day and he’d been doing his damndest to be as offputting as possible since he’d met her, but she hadn’t budged. He watched her turn the wheel from the corner of his eye and decided maybe the Chief hadn’t intended the assignment as punishment after all. Maybe she really did need a teacher. And poor time management skills aside, Ben was a stellar detective. He could teach her a lot. “Things don’t always work out,” he said finally. “And it’s no one’s fault--”
“So it was your fault?”
“I just said--”
“You don’t like to accept responsibility for your personal life.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me,” he snapped, squeezing the coffee cup a little too tightly. “I take back all the nice things I just thought about you.”
Rey grinned. “Aww, you think nice things about me?”
“Not anymore I don’t! Fuck.”
It really was disconcerting, having someone practically pulling thoughts out of his head like that. Maybe he should do it to her and see how she liked it.
“Turn here,” he muttered grudgingly, watching her from the corner of his eye.
“Hamilton is the other way--” Rey began but Ben cut her off with a tsk.
“Yeah, I know. Turn here.”
Rey narrowed her eyes again, but complied. Ben had her park in front of his apartment building. “I’ll be fifteen minutes. Just wait.”
“You want me to just sit here?”
“Or come in, whatever, fuck if I care,” he called over his shoulder, swinging the door closed and rushing inside. Rey huffed but didn’t follow him.
When he climbed back into the car exactly fifteen minutes later, her eyes went wide.
Ben flipped down the mirror on the sun visor, tugged his still sopping wet hair into a passable ponytail and muttered, “Detective-y enough for you?”
“You clean up good, Solo,” she replied, lips pulling down in appreciation as she surveyed him.
Ben shrugged. He hadn’t had time to shave so he still looked a little rougher than he should considering they were about to get mobbed by the press the second they pulled up to the crime scene. But with his hair pulled back, and his standard black slacks/button-up/tie combo, he certainly looked more presentable than he had when he’d rolled into the station, still crumbled into last night's wrinkled t-shirt with his tangled hair falling into his eyes.
When Rey parked her car, Ben was genuinely impressed by the amount of reporters thronging around the office building clamoring for a scoop. She actually balked when she saw them all and Ben muttered, “Better get used to it. These vultures will be circling until we catch this guy.” He didn’t mention that he thought that could be a lot longer than normal, if this crime scene was anything like the others-- completely devoid of anything worth looking into.
He was assaulted with his name the second his feet hit the sidewalk. “Detective Solo! Ben Solo! Detective!” He silently shoved through the crowd, a very unnerved Rey close on his heels falling into the path he opened up with his huge shoulders. “Can you confirm that the General has killed again, Detective Solo? Do you have any new leads? Detective Solo! Solo! Solo!”
Ben wanted to smash his hands over his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen to them squawk. Instead, he grunted, “Can I get to the goddamn scene please?” and the last few reporters dumb enough to be blocking his path and shoving microphones at his face fell back. The officers barring the door stepped aside wordlessly when Ben approached. It always gave him a jolt of pleasure, when that happened. Seeing people bounce to attention at his presence, step aside, make room for him, let him into restricted areas without even checking his badge. Recognizing him.
It was quieter inside the building, even with the CSI team bustling around, swooping in and out of doors, cataloging all the evidence they could find.
The actual crime scene was on the top floor. Ben punched the button in the elevator and Rey leaned against the wall. “Are they always like that?”
“What, the reporters?” Rey nodded. Ben shrugged. “With this case they are. Get used to it. They’ll know your name too, as soon as they figure out I’m not working with Poe anymore.”
Rey pulled a face like she was tasting something sour.
The elevator doors pinged open and Ben smelled blood. The coppery tang was heavy in the air and he felt his vision narrowing as he stepped out into the tiny hallway and looked toward the door marked with a distinguished, ‘Snoke.’
The coroner was waiting for them.
“His name is Snoke,” he said as soon as Ben and Rey stepped off the elevator. “Seventy six years old, found early this morning. Rigor and lividity put time of death around ten PM last night. Definitely a General kill.”
Ben rolled the gum between his teeth and muttered, “Let me be the judge of that.”
The coroner shrugged. “Well, it sure looks like him. Aside from a few… differences.”
Ben scowled. “What kind of differences?”
“I’ll let you see for yourself. Other than that, everything physically is exactly the same as the others.” He began to tick off his fingers. “Same cut to the carotid. Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles, but no other major physical trauma. And I’d bet good money toxicology will look exactly like the others.”
Ben jerked his chin, already losing the thread of the conversation to the overwhelming understanding that there was a body one room over. A sea of blood staining an expensive carpet. A dossier on the man who’d committed the crime, if only Ben could figure out what to look for.
“What did the others look like?” Rey interrupted, staring boldly at the coroner.
The coroner blinked at her. “Who are you?” he asked, as if noticing her for the first time. He jerked his head and looked at Ben. “Where’s Poe?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “With his dog.”
“I’m Rey Kenobi,” Rey inserted, voice much firmer than it had been with the other detectives. “I’m Ben’s new partner.”
The coroner nodded. “Uh, right. The other reports. They’re all over the place. Varying instances of alcohol and drug use, varying medications. But nothing unexpected, really. If the General is using anything to knock these people out before he kills them, it doesn’t show up on our reports.”
“You think he’s subduing them first. Why?”
Ben straightened and crossed his arms over his chest while the coroner gave Rey a very patronizing look.
Rey’s eyes narrowed. When no one spoke, she paused, thoughtful, and then said, “No other physical trauma? But he’s an old man. How hard could it be to tie him down?”
“Our youngest victim was a twenty two year old bodybuilder on coke,” Ben supplied. “And just like this guy, he had no other external signs of trauma. None of them did. So.”
“So he’s either knocking them out before hand or luring them into the chair,” Rey finished with a nod. “How would he do that? Lure them?”
Ben shrugged. “Short of a gun, I have no idea. But it’d be difficult to keep it trained on them while he tied them up. And at this point, the whole city’s on edge about this guy. Someone’s bound to fight back.”
Rey fell silent, eyes glazing with thought and Ben turned around. “Anything else we should know?”
The corner shook his head. “Those are the highlights, but trust me, you really gotta see this guy.” Ben nodded and headed for the door, Rey close on his heels. “And Solo!” Ben paused with his hand on the door. “Tell Dameron not to be a stranger.”
Ben grunted to hide his scowl and pushed inside.
Snoke’s office was huge. It spanned half of the top floor, with broad tinted windows ranging along three walls. The click of flashing cameras and the low drone of investigators talking filled the air. Ben stepped into the room and the noises faded. The investigators standing in his way cleared a space and by the time he reached the middle of the room, they’d all gone quiet. Watching him.
Rey muttered, “What--” but then Finn, who was standing in the corner with Phasma, hissed, “Shh!” and she fell silent too.
Good. He could think now.
The steady pulsing in his head that had been irking him all morning faded. The nausea twisting his stomach dimmed.
What had the General left for him this time?
First: What was the same?
The body was tied to a luscious rolling chair that probably cost more than Ben made in a month. The ropes holding it down appeared to be the same ropes he had used with the last six-- non-descript, sturdy, thin twine looped until it formed thick coils and tied viciously tight.
The thick carpet was drenched in a sea of clotting blood. It spread out from the chair behind the desk in a thick wave and filled the air with an unmistakable scent.
Snoke was dressed in expensive slacks and shoes, but naked from the waist up; the button-up he’d been wearing was crumpled in his lap where it’d been pushed after being cut from his shoulders. His chin was tucked to his chest, and a thick trail of blood drained from his neck down onto the carpet. As Ben stared, he saw it perfectly: a silver blade dipping into the neck, quick and light and effortless, followed by impossibly huge spurts of crimson. One. Two. Three. Dead in seconds instead of minutes.
Like killing an animal. Cold. Removed. I am the hunter. This is my pray. Snoke was nothing more than a disgusting, dim, lowly creature that needed to be disposed of. But why?
The blade sparkled. The head fell, chin tucking to chest. He cut aside the shirts with quick, efficient slices, and then carved the shoulders. Five slices per star. In Snoke’s case, five stars per shoulder. These new cuts didn’t even bleed-- their hearts had already mostly emptied the bodies for him. There was very little left to ooze from the curls of flesh peeling up from the victim’s shoulder blades. This part was almost… clean. Satisfying. A ritual that demanded completion because it was nothing if not--
Deserved.
And why did they deserve it? What did the stars mean?
Ben stopped and his eyes jolted back up to the shoulders.
Five stars?
He laughed out loud and didn’t realize it as he stepped forward, tiptoed behind the chair where he could peer at the body without getting blood (Snoke’s filthy, disgusting blood) on his shoes and disturbing the scene.
Why did I give you five? What makes you so special?
Someone cleared their throat and Ben realized belatedly he’d spoken out loud. But before he could return to himself enough to be concerned by that, he noticed something else.
“Get the coroner back in here,” he snarled, voice low and harsh. The absolute idiot.
“Detective Solo?” Ben lifted his head the second he heard the other man enter the room and speak.
“Get over here.” The coroner hesitated by the door, eyes wide and white, like a rabbit staring at a large dog. Good. He should be scared. Ben actually snarled wordlessly-- because the idiot should have fucking noticed and Ben was surveying a scene, for Christ’s sake and now he had to stop to consult the expert and that was enough to make him laugh out loud, calling that idiot a fucking expert.
Ben was distantly aware of Phasma, humming low in her throat, and it took him out enough to remind him to take a breath, to calm down.
Someone hissed at the coroner and the man finally stepped over, hesitant, afraid to get to close to Ben when Ben was staring at him like that. He moved more carefully the closer he came, delicately fitting his feet in the spaces that weren’t covered in blood, and leaning away from Ben when Ben didn’t move out of his way. Ben hissed, “Look at his neck.”
“I--” The coroner’s voice cut off and then he said, “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Phasma broke the silence the rest of the onlookers were stuck in.
“You’re the expert,” Ben snapped, making the word sound like an insult. “What do you see?”
“Bruising,” the coroner replied. “Bruising around the throat consistent with--”
“An arm,” Ben concluded.
“Clue us in, Ben,” Phasma said loudly.
Ben stepped out from behind the body and said, “Finn, come here. Stand here. Yeah, right here.” Finn eyed him suspiciously, but did as he said. When Ben lifted his arms and wrapped them around Finn’s neck, Phasma whistled.
“That would be consistent with this bruising,” the coroner muttered, nose inches from the body.
“A motherfucking rear naked?” Phasma said incredulously. “That’s how he’s knocking them out?”
“You said the other bodies didn’t have this type of bruising,” Rey interrupted.
Ben grinned. “Snoke is old. He’d bruise easier. And this kind of choke, it’s not restricting the airway. It’s restricting blood flow. You can knock a grown man out like this in…” Ben shrugged, and tightened his arms, counting in his head.
Finn tapped his wrist, once, twice, then for one frantic second, tried to curl his fingers around Ben’s thick arm. Then he went limp.
“Twelve seconds,” Ben said brightly.
Phasma crossed the room in two huge strides and punched Ben on the arm, hard. “You ass.”
Ben released Finn into her arms and he came to a few seconds later. The glare he leveled at Ben when he realized what had happened was perhaps the dirtiest look Ben had ever seen him give anybody, and Ben had seen him interrogate murderers .
“They’d still only be out for thirty seconds, a minute tops,” Phasma said grudgingly, helping steady Finn on his feet.
“That’s plenty of time to get them in the chair if he’s quick. And if not, he can just choke them out again. And Snoke is old. He’d probably be out longer anyway.” Ben’s voice was getting fuzzy and distracted as he focused back on the body, but it had told him all it could until it was taken back to the morgue.
Ben lifted his eyes to the rest of the room.
Now: What was different?
The scene itself was unique. Snoke had been a very rich and successful man-- unlike every other victim. Snoke’s office was located on the top floor of a heavily secured office building. The General had never let himself be caught on camera before, but this wasn’t a private home, or a cheap hotel or apartment building. How did he get in undetected? What would they find on the security feeds?
The office appeared completely undisturbed. Even the stacks of papers on the desk were neat and tidy.
Truly, it was impressive.
Except.
Ranging along one of the immaculate and dust free shelves, something was missing. Ben couldn’t immediately tell how he knew. Nothing marked the spot-- it just appeared in his head, an empty hole where something had once stood.
Ben crossed the room and stared at the spot. “Something was here. And now it’s not.”
“How do you know?” Rey asked, startling him; he hadn’t realized she was standing so close.
That was unsettling. No one had snuck up on Ben in fuck if he knew how long. How had she done that exactly?
Ben shrugged. “Looks like something’s missing.”
“Yeah, but why?”
Ben turned his head, annoyance arcing across his features. “Look at the spacing between these photos, and his books. All of them are a similar distance apart. Except these two. The space is larger. Something about--” Ben held up both hands. “This big was sitting here and now it’s not.”
Rey blinked at him from under lowered brows and Ben rolled his eyes. He knew that expression-- it was the ‘You’re a fucking lunatic’ expression he’d come to know during his first year on the job, before everyone he worked with noticed his uncanny ability to read people and his tendency to crack complicated cases with what, to them, appeared to be little more than a lucky guess.
Ben turned to the room at large and said, “Get a few more pictures of this spot.” Someone rushed to comply and Ben glanced around one more time, making sure every aspect of the room was cataloged in his mind. Then he crossed to Phasma and Finn.
“What do you think?” he asked Phasma, eyes glossing over Finn entirely-- the other man was decidedly not pleased about being choked out.
Finn had only been in the homicide department for a few months and Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about him yet. He was friendly at least. But Ben had never liked the way Finn looked at Poe. It unsettled him, for some reason he couldn’t-- or didn’t want to-- name. If he was being honest with himself, he’d enjoyed feeling Finn go limp in his arms a little more than he should have.
Phasma shrugged a huge, muscle bound shoulder as she glared at him. Apparently Finn wasn’t the only person he’d pissed off. “As far as the scene goes, everything looks exactly the same. I mean, except for the actual location.”
“Who called it in?”
Phasma’s face lit up a little in spite of her annoyance with him. “Actually, that’s what we were waiting for you for. I can’t question the guy. He’s an old friend.”
Ben made a face. “You have friends?”
Phasma chuckled. “Yeah. He’s an old army buddy. Good people. He and Snoke are--were-- partners. He’s waiting in his office.”
Ben nodded. “Anything I should know?”
Phasma chuckled again and there was something vindictively amused shining in her eyes. “Have fun, is all I have to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Phasma’s lips quirked and she shrugged. “You’ll see.” She pointed at the door Ben had come in through. “He’s through there. Other side of the hall. Name’s Hux.”
Ben nodded, turned, and came to face to face with Rey, watching him with her arms crossed. Ben quirked a brow. “Something to say?”
“You were only in here for ten minutes.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, you can’t possibly have thoroughly examined the scene in that time. We should--” Rey paused because Phasma was openly laughing at her and Finn was smiling at his feet. “What?”
Phasma shook her head and said, “Ben, how many books are on the shelf?”
Without turning away from Rey, Ben said, “Seventeen.”
“Windows?”
“Nine.”
“Panes in each window?”
“Twelve.”
Phasma paused, peering around the room, and Ben got to enjoy Rey gaping at him.
“Ok, how many pens are on his desk?”
Ben stared at the ceiling, counting each pen in his head, and said, “Twenty three. And four markers and six pencils.”
Rey’s eyes narrowed. “You have a photographic memory.”
Ben scowled. “No, I don’t. I have an eidetic memory. Photographic memory refers only to information read-- text on a page, page numbers. Eidetic memory refers to the ability to perfectly recall scenes, smells, sounds.” He shrugged and smirked arrogantly. “That sort of thing.”
Phasma chuckled indulgently behind him and said, “And he loves to talk about it!”
Ben rolled his eyes and breezed past Rey, forcing her to follow him into the hallway before she could reply to Phasma. “I have an eye for crime scenes,” he explained. “With certain types of scenes, you start to learn what to look for. Things that have been added, or removed, or disordered start to jump out at you.” He paused with his hand on the door knob. “The General leaves nothing behind but the ropes. He doesn’t touch anything, move anything. He leaves everything exactly where he found it. If he left anything behind, the CSI team will find it-- fibers, hair, maybe a shoe print in the blood, but I doubt it. He’s too careful for that.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“Aside from statistical probability?” Ben paused. He hadn’t actually considered that the General could be a woman. But as soon as the thought turned over in his mind, he shook his head. “He’s not a woman.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s… just a feeling I guess.”
“Feelings don’t hold up in court.”
“Yeah, but the longer you work with me, the more you’ll realize my feelings tend to be right.”
Rey huffed in irritation and Ben realized for the first time how on edge she was.
Something almost like guilt flipped over in his chest. He’d been mostly ignoring her all morning-- forcing her to ask him questions, walking around like she wasn’t there, only looking at her when he absolutely had to.
He hadn’t wanted a new partner. He and Poe had been a good team. Poe knew exactly what kind of questions to ask him to get him thinking. He knew when to shut up and let Ben work.
Poe knew exactly how to sing back up to Ben’s lead. But if Luke wanted Ben to teach Rey, he couldn’t expect her to just trot at his heels all day, could he?
Fuck, he was too hungover for this.
“Look, this is a shitty case to come in on. Let’s question this guy and we can review the photos from the other scenes together when we get back to the station, alright?”
Rey’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded. “Thank you.”
Ben jerked his chin in response and threw open the door.
A single uniformed officer was sitting the corner, boredly watching the man bent at his desk, sketching something.
The office was almost as big as Snoke’s, but it had a certain style to it, a minimalism that Ben found attractive compared to the overbearing traditionalism of Snoke’s office.
His eyes flicked around the room once, taking in the book shelves, the degrees hanging on the walls, the lack of anything truly personal, and then settled on the man at the desk.
He put down his pencil and lifted his head.
When his eyes met Ben’s a splash of cold darted up Ben’s spine, but before he could grab it and assess it, it was replaced with a burning heat in the pit of his stomach.
The man sitting before him was nothing short of beautiful. He stood up when Ben stepped into the room, and Ben actually drew up short. It was rare that Ben found another person so attractive as to actually cause him pause, so the feeling-- the sudden jump in his chest, the lump in his throat, the strange swoop in his stomach-- was thrilling and unexpected.
He was Ben’s height almost exactly, but smaller, thinner, more lightly built, and with pale skin that looked like it would bruise like a peach with just the right touch. And his eyes. Fuck, his eyes. They were green. Or maybe blue. The same crystal color only found when peering down to the bottom of an almost clear ocean.
There was a spray of freckles splashed across his nose and they were the only softness in him. His orange hair (Ben thought of peaches again) was combed from his face into a perfect part. His posture was as perfect and immaculate as his hair. The only part of him that wasn’t completely in order were the tips of his fingers, tinged with lead from the pencil he was using to sketch what Ben quickly noted were building plans of some sort.
He didn’t say anything. He stared at Ben and when Ben only stared back, he saw the man’s neutral expression sharpen into an almost imperceptible smirk.
The heat in Ben’s stomach turned over. Smirking suited Hux, fit on his pretty lips just a little too well.
Rey poked Ben hard in the back and he realized he’d been staring for about a split second longer than was socially acceptable. He forced his expression into something a little more intimidating and tried not to think about how happy he was that he’d made Rey take him home to shower and change before he’d come to the crime scene.
The moment Ben moved again, Hux’s smirk disappeared to be replaced with something appropriately somber. The expression was gone so quickly, Ben wondered if he’d imagined it. The same way he must have imagined the chill that darted up his spine when their eyes had first met.
His voice, when he spoke, was deeper than he meant it to be, a little husky with surprise. “Are you Hux?”
The man crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Armitage Hux, yes, that’s me.”
“You found Mr. Snoke?”
“Yes. You are?”
Ben cleared his throat. “Detective Solo, and this is my partner, Detective Kenobi.” He saw Rey hide a smile when he said the words ‘my partner.’ “I’m the lead investigator in this case. Can you tell me how you found Mr. Snoke, Mr. Hux?”
Hux came out from behind his desk and leaned against it. The position pulled his perfectly tailored charcoal button up tight against his shoulders. They were very round.
Ben forced his eyes back up, but franky, that wasn’t much better.
“I found him this morning, about seven forty five, when I got to the office.”
“Do you usually arrive at that time?”
“Yes. Seven forty five exactly, every morning. I got off the elevator and smelled blood, so I checked his office and. Well, I found him like that.”
Ben blinked and said sharply, “You smelled blood?” It wasn’t something most witnesses usually said. Most people wouldn’t even notice the scent of freshly spilled blood one room over. It had still been subtle when Ben got off the elevator and that was almost three hours after Hux had found the body.
The man smiled and the expression wasn’t at all pleasant. “Yes, I did. I’ve seen combat, Detective Solo. I’m quite familiar with the scent of… death, as it were. It’s very distinctive. So I checked his office.”
Ben nodded and tried to organize the barrage of questions sprinting through his brain. “Uh, did you touch anything when you entered the office? Try to revive him at all?”
Hux shook his head. “He was very clearly deceased. I didn’t cross the threshold. I went to my office and called the authorities.”
“So you haven’t actually been in his office since the murder?”
“No.”
Ben let his eyes track from the top of Hux’s head to the points of his shiny shoes, turning the answers to Ben’s questions over in his head.
“What is your relationship to Mr. Snoke, Mr. Hux?” Rey interjected, her voice firm and confident, and not at all like someone who was on the job for the very first time.
“We were business partners,” Hux said shrugging. “Our relationship was purely a professional one.”
“And how long have you known him?” Rey continued.
Ben crossed his arms and let her, taking this opportunity to really examine the man in front of him. There was something about him, something strange and unnerving and so goddamn attractive, it made Ben a little angry. He wasn’t used to other people having any effect on him at all. Staring at Hux made his brain feel fuzzy and he realized he was clenching his fists at his sides without meaning too.
It was a thrilling sort of feeling, a strange compulsion to peel back all Hux’s layers and see what was inside. Because Ben was sure there was something to see.
“Eight years,” Hux said firmly. “He approached me with a business plan after I was discharged from the Army, and I agreed. We’ve been very successful together.”
“Eight years,” Rey said, her brows pulling together in what Ben knew was mock empathy. Though she played it very well. “It must have been hard for you, seeing him like that.”
Hux didn’t bite. “Hardly. Mr. Snoke was not a very endearing man.” His eyes jumped from Rey to Ben. Ben swallowed. “I wouldn’t attribute our mutual success to any bit of warmth between us.”
Rey wasn’t impressed. She leaned forward a little, and said coldly, “That was a pretty upsetting scene in there. All that blood. That didn’t bother you?”
Hux lifted his brows. “No, I’m afraid not.” He looked at Ben again and Ben saw Rey tense. Hux seemed to be giving all his answers to Ben and Ben only. “I was a sniper, in the Army. A ranger. For eight years. I am intimately acquainted with--” He paused and Ben tried not to think he’d put special emphasis on the words ‘intimately acquainted.’ Against his will, Ben felt his lips quirk when Hux smiled and said dramatically, “ Blood and death.” Rey scowled. Ben, however, was exceedingly amused. “You get used to it. When you’re staring at it from the end of a scope.”
Ben nodded and spoke before Rey could cut him off. She had a lot to learn before she’d be able to handle questioning a man like Hux. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Snoke? Any enemies he may have made?”
Hux laughed. “Half the city could be on that list, Detective Solo. I’m sure you'll find out why when you look into his business dealings. Snoke was not a well liked man.”
“And what exactly did you and Mr. Snoke do together?”
“Our firm deals in the acquisition of properties-- mainly old apartment buildings. We buy them cheaply, knock them down, and build new, more profitable buildings in their place.”
“That you design,” Ben interrupted.
Hux smiled. “Yes.” There was a note of pride in his voice.
Ben shifted his weight and said, “First Order Acquisitions. Did you design the place on the corner of Tenth and Madison?”
Hux’s smile broadened. “Yes. That’s one of mine.”
“That’s a beautiful building. Simple, but…”
“Elegant,” Hux provided. Ben nodded. “I’m quite proud of that one.” Hux smiled at him. Ben smiled back.
Rey cleared her throat and Ben realized he was doing it again-- staring too long. “Uh, thank you for your time, Mr. Hux. We’ll leave you to your work for now, but I’d like you to come down to the station before the end of business to give your official statement.” Ben reached into his pocket and tugged one of his cards from his wallet.
“This afternoon?” Hux asked, reaching out to accept the card.
Ben nodded. “As soon as you’re free. I’m not sure how much work you’ll get done with my guys out there. And they’ll have to comb this room at some point.”
Hux’s eyes flickered. “My door was locked when I came in this morning. I lock it every evening and unlock it every morning. I’d know if someone had come in here.”
Ben gave him a commiserating smile. “Still. Protocol. You understand.”
Hux nodded and his lips quirked. “If it can’t be avoided.”
“We appreciate your cooperation,” Rey added coldly.
Ben tried not to roll his eyes.
He didn’t speak to her until they were in the elevator.
Her nose was wrinkled when she said, “I don’t like that guy. He gives me the creeps.”
Ben sighed dramatically. “Leave the gut feelings to me, alright?” Rey glared at him. Ben laughed. “He’s an army guy, an ex-sniper. You’re picking up on that.”
“Picking up on what?”
“You tried to read him. Like you did with me in the car. What you saw was a man comfortable around death and killing who was unaffected by a murder taking place in the office next to his. Sets off alarm bells. Most people would be visibly upset. Guys like that,” he said, thumbing toward the elevator door. “Know how to control emotions.”
“So you think he was faking?”
Ben bobbed his head. “The lead smudges on his hands. His hair, his suit, his office, all immaculate. Except for that. He noticed them when he took my card; immediately hid his hands.”
“So? What does that mean?”
“It means he hadn’t noticed until then-- but someone who’s that concerned with his appearance, not a hair out of place? He doesn’t not notice something like that when he meets strangers. He was distracted. Which, given the circumstances, is to be expected.”
Rey was giving him the ‘you’re a fucking lunatic’ look again.
“You’re detecting deception, Rey. It’s good. You’re good. But the reason behind the deception is the important part.” The elevator dinged open and Ben shrugged before he stepped back out into the lobby. “Everybody lies.”
She wasn’t convinced, but that was ok. She would be.