head_psychic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
head_psychic) wrote2007-12-08 02:14 am
head_psychic) wrote2007-12-08 02:14 am
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#208 - Four - (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse)
Shawn paused, relished the absolute silence around him, his face one of breathless astonishment before his eyes fluttered open again, dreamily fixed onto a nonexistent spot. "Four."
For the blink of an eye the silence remained. Or the time Lassiter needed to let his eyebrows creep up. Whatever took the shorter amount of time. "Four?" the Head Detective repeated, capable to put a more than admirable amount of sarcasm into a very short word. "This is it? You lie your way into this room, interrupt the lineup, mark our witness with a pen, flop around in this room and break a chair..."
"He didn't exactly break it," Gus cut in but was silenced by a murderous glare. "Just saying."
"... and this is what you come up with? Four?"
"Few free fruit flies fly from flames!" Shawn jumped forward and Berrond, the witness, backed away in irritation. "I'm not a fig plucker nor a fig plucker's son, but I'll pluck your fig's 'til the fig plucker comes!"
Gus frowned. "Hey, I know these."
"Yes, they're tongue twisters," Juliet cut in eagerly, causing her partner to roll his eyes in edgy despair. "Right? Tongue twisters, Shawn?"
"Four!" Shawn repeated. "Four false friends fried Frank!"
"Frank? That's the victim's first name! How did you-"
"It's not important, O'Hara," Lassiter interrupted rudely. "What is important is that we have a witness, who is just about to tell us which of these men are responsible for the death of Frank Hamilton. What is important is that I am not going to listen to any more random numbers or tongue breakers..."
"Twisters," Gus randomly corrected.
"What. Ever." Lassiter scowled. "Both of you. Out."
Shawn didn't even bother to answer. His attention was now fully fixed on the pane. "They're in there!" He bulged forward, his flat hand hitting the glass with a dull smack, causing the lined up suspects to wince in confusion.
Lassiter growled and stepped forward to pull him back but Shawn quickly moved, his hand hitting the pane again and again, each time covering the face of a different man. "One smart fellow, he felt smart. Two smart fellows, they felt smart. Three smart fellows, they felt smart." Shawn paused, gasped, turned around and pointed at Berrond. "Four smart fellows, they felt smart. Four free-flow pipes flow freely."
"Spencer, what the hell?"
Berrond laughed irritably. "What's this guy's problem?"
"Fallacy! Four fetid fellows follow Frank. Fast, Frank flee! Fog... fists... fractures... finished." Shawn clutched his right arm and sobbed. "Fabulous farce."
Lassiter sighed. Long and annoyed. And long. Then he looked at Gus. "Care to translate?"
"I think what he’s trying to say is that Mr. Berrond is wrong. Frank Hamilton wasn't killed by three men, there were four."
"Yes!" Shawn slapped himself in the face several times, a shamelessly obvious attempt to find his spiritual way back to reality. "There were four people. Frank told me. He wrote children's books..."
"And the tongue twisters fit into this how?" Lassiter asked in mock interest.
Shawn looked at the Head Detective. "Oh, they're completely unrelated. They just helped me to communicate with an impressively creative spirit." While Lassiter was still busy clenching his teeth he returned his attention to Berrond. "A spirit you planned to crush, Mr. Berrond!"
"Excuse me?!"
"You are not excused!" Shawn yelled. "Frank Hamilton's spirit does not excuse you! Frank Hamilton knew what your publishing company was all about so he tried to stop you because Frank Hamilton was in it for the children’s smiles! But you!" He pointed straight at the man. "You were in it for the money and only the money. Your face is starting to look green because all you cared about was? The money! You killed Frank Hamilton for the money!"
"This is ridiculous!"
"What? Frank..." Shawn rested his back against the wall and touched his cheek. "It's alright, Frank... don't be scared... just tell me." He closed his eyes. "Yes. What? Are you absolutely... but how do you-... I see. Wow. That is... for shame." He looked back at Berrond. "Frank just told me how you did it."
"Just who exactly is this man? And why can he just talk to me like this?!"
"Because I am a psychic. I can see it clearly... you had it all planned, hadn't you..." Shawn pointed back at the room with the suspects. "You made a call that night. You hired three men, you paid them, they didn't even know who you are. Which was fine, because they didn't care, because they were in it for the money as well! You sent them after Frank. But not to kill him, ohhh no. You told them to roughen him up a little, to beat him, to teach him a lesson. But not because you wanted to teach him a lesson - no! Because you wanted to be there to witness a murder which you committed afterwards! After your hired goons placed themselves to the scene of crime!"
Berrond glared at him. "I don't care who you are, what you are or what you're on but I'll make sure your false accusations will bring you down."
"I doubt it. They didn't sweep in here and my jeans are brand new. Besides, you made a mistake. Two, actually." Shawn pointed at himself and Gus. "First, Hamilton was one of our favourite childhood writers. We adored him. He made us laugh when we were still sweet and innocent. This nowadays only refers to me."
The man looked bored. "Touching."
"Yes. But second, and even more important for now, Frank says the photos can help us. The photos our upright citizen here managed to take with the camera of his very expensive mobile phone which I wish I owned myself will help us!"
While Juliet hurried to get the pictures, Gus shot Berrond hostile Oh yeah, he'll show you glares and Lassiter resigned to rubbing his forehead, Shawn yelped and put a hand on his back. "Ow... it... hurts! Your back... You have problems with your back, haven't you. I can see a doctor! I can see painful hours of rehab for your back! But you're a big manager, so you can't let anyone know! You can hide it very well, you are quite agile and your legs are strong - Hamilton's broken jaw is the perfect evidence for that - but your back... you can't bend down properly. Ow!"
For the first time there was uneasiness on the man's face. "I... do have back issues, that's right. But why is that of any importance here, I don't see what-"
But Lassiter, who had decided that maybe, maybe a little peek at the photos couldn't hurt, caught the train. "You have back issues?"
"I... yes?"
"You can't bend down properly?"
"Look, this is personal, why-"
"If you have troubles with your back, just how exactly did you manage to crouch between the cars to take these pictures?"
Berrond stared. Opened his mouth. Shut it. Stared. "I..."
"Because you did not take these pictures! Because you had someone else there and that is because you are a cowy-cowy-coward!" Shawn cut in. "Because you only dared to approach an injured man to beat the rest of his precious life out of him after they were long gone!"
"You have no proof!" the man screamed, pink spots appearing out of nowhere and spreading all over his cheeks.
"Do you suffer from high blood pressure, sir?" Gus asked innocently.
"What's it to you!"
"Nothing, really. Just asking."
"We found pills against high blood pressure at the scene of crime." Lassiter informed him coolly. He went through the evidence and held up a bag with partially fractured tablets. "Do they belong to you?"
"Yes, they do!" The man was getting seriously angry now. He even reached into his pocket and tossed the other half at Lassiter. "So what! In case you have forgotten, I was there, I was the witness! So what if I lost them there!"
The tablets hit Lassiter in the chest and fell to the ground. He didn't bother picking them up but raised the evidence bag a little higher. "We found those in Hamilton's pocket."
In the background Shawn and Gus shared a fist bump.
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 1,374
For the blink of an eye the silence remained. Or the time Lassiter needed to let his eyebrows creep up. Whatever took the shorter amount of time. "Four?" the Head Detective repeated, capable to put a more than admirable amount of sarcasm into a very short word. "This is it? You lie your way into this room, interrupt the lineup, mark our witness with a pen, flop around in this room and break a chair..."
"He didn't exactly break it," Gus cut in but was silenced by a murderous glare. "Just saying."
"... and this is what you come up with? Four?"
"Few free fruit flies fly from flames!" Shawn jumped forward and Berrond, the witness, backed away in irritation. "I'm not a fig plucker nor a fig plucker's son, but I'll pluck your fig's 'til the fig plucker comes!"
Gus frowned. "Hey, I know these."
"Yes, they're tongue twisters," Juliet cut in eagerly, causing her partner to roll his eyes in edgy despair. "Right? Tongue twisters, Shawn?"
"Four!" Shawn repeated. "Four false friends fried Frank!"
"Frank? That's the victim's first name! How did you-"
"It's not important, O'Hara," Lassiter interrupted rudely. "What is important is that we have a witness, who is just about to tell us which of these men are responsible for the death of Frank Hamilton. What is important is that I am not going to listen to any more random numbers or tongue breakers..."
"Twisters," Gus randomly corrected.
"What. Ever." Lassiter scowled. "Both of you. Out."
Shawn didn't even bother to answer. His attention was now fully fixed on the pane. "They're in there!" He bulged forward, his flat hand hitting the glass with a dull smack, causing the lined up suspects to wince in confusion.
Lassiter growled and stepped forward to pull him back but Shawn quickly moved, his hand hitting the pane again and again, each time covering the face of a different man. "One smart fellow, he felt smart. Two smart fellows, they felt smart. Three smart fellows, they felt smart." Shawn paused, gasped, turned around and pointed at Berrond. "Four smart fellows, they felt smart. Four free-flow pipes flow freely."
"Spencer, what the hell?"
Berrond laughed irritably. "What's this guy's problem?"
"Fallacy! Four fetid fellows follow Frank. Fast, Frank flee! Fog... fists... fractures... finished." Shawn clutched his right arm and sobbed. "Fabulous farce."
Lassiter sighed. Long and annoyed. And long. Then he looked at Gus. "Care to translate?"
"I think what he’s trying to say is that Mr. Berrond is wrong. Frank Hamilton wasn't killed by three men, there were four."
"Yes!" Shawn slapped himself in the face several times, a shamelessly obvious attempt to find his spiritual way back to reality. "There were four people. Frank told me. He wrote children's books..."
"And the tongue twisters fit into this how?" Lassiter asked in mock interest.
Shawn looked at the Head Detective. "Oh, they're completely unrelated. They just helped me to communicate with an impressively creative spirit." While Lassiter was still busy clenching his teeth he returned his attention to Berrond. "A spirit you planned to crush, Mr. Berrond!"
"Excuse me?!"
"You are not excused!" Shawn yelled. "Frank Hamilton's spirit does not excuse you! Frank Hamilton knew what your publishing company was all about so he tried to stop you because Frank Hamilton was in it for the children’s smiles! But you!" He pointed straight at the man. "You were in it for the money and only the money. Your face is starting to look green because all you cared about was? The money! You killed Frank Hamilton for the money!"
"This is ridiculous!"
"What? Frank..." Shawn rested his back against the wall and touched his cheek. "It's alright, Frank... don't be scared... just tell me." He closed his eyes. "Yes. What? Are you absolutely... but how do you-... I see. Wow. That is... for shame." He looked back at Berrond. "Frank just told me how you did it."
"Just who exactly is this man? And why can he just talk to me like this?!"
"Because I am a psychic. I can see it clearly... you had it all planned, hadn't you..." Shawn pointed back at the room with the suspects. "You made a call that night. You hired three men, you paid them, they didn't even know who you are. Which was fine, because they didn't care, because they were in it for the money as well! You sent them after Frank. But not to kill him, ohhh no. You told them to roughen him up a little, to beat him, to teach him a lesson. But not because you wanted to teach him a lesson - no! Because you wanted to be there to witness a murder which you committed afterwards! After your hired goons placed themselves to the scene of crime!"
Berrond glared at him. "I don't care who you are, what you are or what you're on but I'll make sure your false accusations will bring you down."
"I doubt it. They didn't sweep in here and my jeans are brand new. Besides, you made a mistake. Two, actually." Shawn pointed at himself and Gus. "First, Hamilton was one of our favourite childhood writers. We adored him. He made us laugh when we were still sweet and innocent. This nowadays only refers to me."
The man looked bored. "Touching."
"Yes. But second, and even more important for now, Frank says the photos can help us. The photos our upright citizen here managed to take with the camera of his very expensive mobile phone which I wish I owned myself will help us!"
While Juliet hurried to get the pictures, Gus shot Berrond hostile Oh yeah, he'll show you glares and Lassiter resigned to rubbing his forehead, Shawn yelped and put a hand on his back. "Ow... it... hurts! Your back... You have problems with your back, haven't you. I can see a doctor! I can see painful hours of rehab for your back! But you're a big manager, so you can't let anyone know! You can hide it very well, you are quite agile and your legs are strong - Hamilton's broken jaw is the perfect evidence for that - but your back... you can't bend down properly. Ow!"
For the first time there was uneasiness on the man's face. "I... do have back issues, that's right. But why is that of any importance here, I don't see what-"
But Lassiter, who had decided that maybe, maybe a little peek at the photos couldn't hurt, caught the train. "You have back issues?"
"I... yes?"
"You can't bend down properly?"
"Look, this is personal, why-"
"If you have troubles with your back, just how exactly did you manage to crouch between the cars to take these pictures?"
Berrond stared. Opened his mouth. Shut it. Stared. "I..."
"Because you did not take these pictures! Because you had someone else there and that is because you are a cowy-cowy-coward!" Shawn cut in. "Because you only dared to approach an injured man to beat the rest of his precious life out of him after they were long gone!"
"You have no proof!" the man screamed, pink spots appearing out of nowhere and spreading all over his cheeks.
"Do you suffer from high blood pressure, sir?" Gus asked innocently.
"What's it to you!"
"Nothing, really. Just asking."
"We found pills against high blood pressure at the scene of crime." Lassiter informed him coolly. He went through the evidence and held up a bag with partially fractured tablets. "Do they belong to you?"
"Yes, they do!" The man was getting seriously angry now. He even reached into his pocket and tossed the other half at Lassiter. "So what! In case you have forgotten, I was there, I was the witness! So what if I lost them there!"
The tablets hit Lassiter in the chest and fell to the ground. He didn't bother picking them up but raised the evidence bag a little higher. "We found those in Hamilton's pocket."
In the background Shawn and Gus shared a fist bump.
Muse: Shawn Spencer
Fandom: Psych
Words: 1,374
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