The Reading Room was bathed in a soft, quiet glow. Two tables stood in the middle. Agent Mulder sat opposite an empty chair at one, and Agent Scully sat at the other, a laptop screen illuminating her face. Mulder’s table held papers, a notebook, a pen, and a used coffee cup.
“Relax,” Ali whispered to Trevor before leaving. The FBI agent who escorted them remained posted at the door. Trevor walked to the empty chair and sat down.
“So, you are the famous Trevor Edson, Her Majesty’s ex-boyfriend,” Agent Mulder said, his tone mocking.
The cup beside him was cold and empty, betraying no coffee flavor. Trevor wished he could skip the obvious, awkward question. “Yes.”
“Why do you attend the party? What’s your intention?” Agent Mulder leaned forward, speaking the last word firmly and slowly.
“Intention? Just hanging out with friends, maybe meet a few new people.”
“Did you know the Ambassador would attend the party beforehand?”
“No.”
“Do you publicly speak against the Queen’s policies? Specifically, fair tariff, anti-illegal immigration, or enhancing national security?” Agent Mulder stared straight at Trevor.
“What does that have to do with the case?” Trevor shot back, instantly alert.
Even Agent Scully paused her note-taking and looked at Mulder with a disagreeing expression.
Agent Mulder leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. “Where were you, and what exactly did you do when the Ambassador died?”
“I was right there. I saw those apples, wanted to take one, then the Ambassador came up. He told me the apples were from the White Palace and looked delicious. He took a bite, then he fell to the ground.” Trevor recalled the scene, only now grasping how truly horrifying it had been.
Agent Mulder raised his eyebrows, leaning forward once more. “So, you were at the crime scene, you watched the Ambassador dying, and you touched those apples.”
“I didn’t touch any apple,” Trevor snapped, excited and angry.
“Mr. Edson, as we know, you are not a premium guest for this party. So why and how were you standing in the crime scene? What was your intention?”
“I wanted to talk to my friends. They were in the premium zone.” Trevor felt his heart pound against his ribs.
“Friends. Always a good excuse, isn’t it?” Agent Mulder mocked again.
“Did you see anyone else near the dessert table?” Agent Scully asked, lowering her screen.
“Yes, many people. It’s a party; people keep passing the dessert tables all the time. Lots of people gathered around when the Ambassador fell,” Trevor said, his voice calm this time.
“Mr. Edson, you are the highest suspect right now. You showed up in the crime scene where you shouldn’t have been, and you have a clear record of publicly dishonoring the Queen,” Agent Mulder said, writing something in his notebook. “You can contact a lawyer now if you wish, because we need to detain you for further investigation.”
“What? You have no proof! This is insane!” Trevor’s voice rose in fury.
“Mr. Edson, do you want to contact a lawyer or not?” Agent Mulder’s voice was ferocious.
“Fine, I’ll contact a lawyer.” Trevor knew he had no choice at this moment.
“Feel free to contact your lawyer, but don’t leave this room,” Agent Mulder boasted.
Trevor got up and walked toward the windows. The FBI agent stood guard at the door. Trevor pulled out his phone. Who should he call? He didn’t have a personal lawyer, but his father knew some, and Lady News could likely help.
He decided to call his father first. Just before making the call, he received a message.
*”Lawyer won’t help you, but I can. Tell them you can help them solve the case. Let them give you time. I will assist you secretly. Only one condition: do not expose me to anyone.”*
The sender’s name, **Gossip News**, shocked Trevor. So many questions flooded his mind: Why? How? Who was this? He looked around—Agent Scully was working on her laptop; Agent Mulder complacently spun his pen, watching Trevor. Could it be Agent Scully?
Never mind that now, he thought, refocusing on the immediate danger. Agent Mulder had orders to solve the case tonight, or at least provide a scapegoat for the media. He wasn’t focused on finding the real killer. And Regina didn’t care who the real killer was; she just wanted to make political hay. Who was a more perfect scapegoat than him? He showed up where he shouldn’t have, and Regina would undoubtedly be glad to keep him detained for a few days as revenge. Gossip News was right: a lawyer could change nothing yet.
He put his phone back in his pocket, walked back to the chair, and stood, hands on the table, staring at Agent Mulder. “I know you only want to use me as a scapegoat. So how about we make a deal? I won’t leave this Salon, but give me freedom to walk around. I’ll help you solve the case, clear myself, and you get the merit.”
“Interesting. Do you really think you can solve the case, Mr. Edson?” Agent Mulder continued to spin his pen.
“I have no choice, do I?” Trevor countered, trying to sound utterly confident.
“Alright,” Agent Mulder stopped spinning the pen and wrote in his notebook. “I’ll give you two hours to clear yourself—before midnight. If you can’t, you come with us.”
“Seriously? Another civilian to help us? Do we really look this pathetic during the shutdown?” Agent Scully muttered, rolling her eyes.
Agent Mulder paused, then agreed. “You won’t get any information from us; you rely only on yourself. After midnight, if you can’t find the killer, you come with us. You’ll still have a chance to contact a lawyer then. Don’t try to leave; there are FBI agents at all entrances.”
“Deal.” Trevor agreed immediately.
“You can go now.”
Trevor left the room. Ali was waiting outside. He gave Trevor a slight smile, then went into the Reading Room. Trevor walked toward the restroom. The corridor was quiet and empty. He quickly pulled out his phone and replied to Gossip News: “How can you help me?”
A link was immediately sent back. He tapped it. It was a video footage about the party hall.