FMABBC: The Perfect Crime
Title: The Perfect Crime
Beta: meredavey
Genre: Slice of Life, and a bit of humor
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Black Hayate
Warnings: Havoc swore. Once. XD (Er, and it wasn't even that... bad. XD) And there are implications of Roy's motive for animal abuse. XD
Summary: No witnesses and no evidence--these are the two factors needed in order to have a perfect crime. East HQ has been victimized by an unknown thief, and it seems the military has met a dead end--this grand theft seems to be a perfect, unsolvable crime. But Mustang's unit is in for a surprise when the thief reveals himself and his motives when the Elric brothers drop by HQ.
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The Perfect Crime
The life of a military dog is always full of action and surprises. There never seems to be a dull day, even when they’re all doing paperwork, it seems there’s always something fun to do around Headquarters. This particular day seemed to be like any other as it began… well, by that I mean it’s the same as the past few days-with the officers all a bit more agitated than usual, all alertness set a notch higher, and all a bit too suspicious about everything.
Colonel Mustang’s office has never been in such a state of confusion, puzzlement and disorder before, at least not until this week. Papers were strewn all over the place, and the officers were-for the first time as I can remember-not seated in front of their desks doing their paperwork as they should and usually do. The whole office looked like a battlefield; it was as if a war was taking place right then and there.
News circulating around East Headquarters said that a series of stealing cases have been occurring in different offices and departments, and that Colonel Mustang and his unit have been a part of those robbed. And it seems that from all the reports, there were no witnesses at the time of loss, and there is no evidence left by the thief. A perfect crime, some say, although by formal definition, it is far from perfect. From what I understand, anything could be considered as a perfect crime, as long as there are no witnesses of the committed crime and no evidences that can point out the suspect either.
The mysterious string of thefts began a couple of days ago, particularly in Colonel Mustang’s office. Lunch hour had just finished and everyone in the Colonel’s unit started filing into the office once again to resume their work.
“It was around that time that I’d always attempt to get a smoke,” Second Lieutenant Havoc said as he told his side of the story to the investigators. “Well, it’s not that I can get away with it; either Colonel Mustang or Lieutenant Hawkeye would end up telling me I’ll have to smoke outside, or not smoke at all.” And although that was almost always the case, he always tried, nevertheless.
“I searched all of my pockets,” Havoc recalled, with a look of frustration on his face. His eyebrows were knit together and a frown was on his lips; it was the same expression he wore the other day-the day he was recalling right now. It was as if he was reliving the moment as he retold the story. “I rummaged through my drawers… but it wasn’t there. Nada, zero. No sign of my lighter!” His expression dropped, replacing frustration with disappointment and sadness.
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“Damn it, that was from my girlfriend!” Havoc said, mostly to himself, but his loud whispers caused heads to turn to him, all with questioning looks. Havoc sighed hopelessly. He ceased his search and sank into his seat.
“Something wrong, Havoc?” Colonel Mustang asked, pausing in his work.
“Nah, don’t mind me, Chief,” Second Lieutenant Havoc shrugged as he pulled himself up to sit properly. “I think I misplaced my lighter, that’s all.” The blond said as he took some documents and positioned himself as if reading. Although his pose said he was ready for work, his face said otherwise: he was still rather disturbed. And knowing the Second Lieutenant, he didn’t take lightly any issue that concerned his girlfriend-be it a past, present, or future one.
Colonel Mustang offered a reassuring grin. “That’s all right; you can always buy a new one. And besides,” he said, “It’ll take just a couple more hours till you can get off.” Although he meant to reassure Second Lieutenant Havoc, the Colonel was unsuccessful. And maybe, deep inside, Second Lieutenant Havoc was crying, telling the Colonel that it isn’t something so easily replaced-that the lighter had too much of a sentimental value to it, or something.
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The next day, Sergeant Major Fuery came with a report, saying that one of his tools had gone missing. “I’ve searched the entire office,” He said; his face was etched with sadness and worry. “I just couldn’t find it. I always make sure I put away all the tools after I use them… but I just don’t know why it’s missing.” Sergeant Fuery is quite known for his hobby of tinkering with all sorts of gadgets. If you’ve got a broken radio or a disconnected telephone, leave it to him-he can make it work.
Despite this serious hobby, Sergeant Fuery doesn’t seem to be the type to leave his things lying around, so hearing that he lost something came quite as a surprise. But then again, it’s not as much of a surprise as compared to the case of Miss Riza.
Miss Riza-whom everyone calls “Lieutenant Hawkeye”-is known to be strict, well-disciplined, highly efficient, hard working, diligent, responsible, and the list goes on. But even the Lieutenant has fallen victim to the anonymous thief. And for this thief to escape the eyes of the Hawk, he must be really good. A well-seasoned thief or a well-planned theft; either way, it was very well done.
“As far as I can remember, I left my pen on my desk before I went out for lunch.” Miss Riza, unlike the other victims, remained calm and composed as she told her story. “I know for a fact that none of us remained in the office for lunch. We all left the office together and we were all together for the duration of the lunch hour. I don’t think any of them could’ve been the culprit. And besides,” she deduced, “I don’t think they’d bother taking my pen; it’s not like it’ll help them finish their paperwork in miraculously high speed or anything. I don’t think they’d even want to hold a pen in the first place.” She sighed.
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Colonel Mustang was in deep thought. How could they catch the thief? It seems that the thief only comes out when there are no people around, and the thief seems to take interest in things that are important to certain people-Havoc’s lighter, Fuery’s tools, Miss Riza’s pen. With that much information, how can they capture the thief? How can they lure him out?
“Are you sure about this, sir?” Miss Riza asked before they all headed out for lunch. The other men had their doubts as well. Colonel Mustang was taking a risk in this plan of his, but they couldn’t talk him out of it. There was nothing left to do but trust the man and hope for the best.
“Positive, Lieutenant,” Colonel Mustang replied coolly as he walked out of the office with the others trailing behind him. “If I were the thief, I won’t be able to resist. A thousand cenz, left alone, with no one around… it’s not everyday that you find unguarded money. It’s very tempting indeed.” He grinned, confident in his plan.
But a thousand cenz really isn’t much now, is it… This was what I thought the others were thinking at that moment. It seemed so from their expressions. But the Colonel did have a point. Unguarded money; if the thief readily took a lighter, a screwdriver, and a pen, what more if there was money involved, right? Of course it was tempting. But the question now is… if ever the thief would take the money… how can they catch him?
“Oh, we don’t catch him just yet,” Colonel Mustang explained, “What we’re trying to do… is just to prove that there really is a thief.” His subordinates shared confused, puzzled, and even shocked looks. What exactly was Colonel Mustang planning? He’s just going to give away his money, just like that? This was rather unlike him. But maybe he has a plan. “You see… it’s possible that you all just misplaced your things. I’m not saying you’re all irresponsible or anything. I’m just saying that there’s always the possibility. Before we think of catching the thief, we first have to establish the fact that there really is one.
Okay, that seems logical enough.
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“I don’t understand how it happened. It was supposedly fool-proof!” Colonel Mustang exclaimed as he retold his version of the events. He slammed a clenched fist onto the desk. “I know a thousand cenz is just a measly amount, but… really, is a State Alchemist’s pocket watch worth more than that?” Well, yes? “It’s not like he’ll get anything from selling it! I don’t know if anyone’s even willing to buy a State Alchemist’s pocket watch! And the Flame Alchemist’s, for that matter.” They’ll be too scared of the possibility that Colonel Mustang will hunt them down and burn them to ashes with the accusation that they were the ones who stole it-is that what he’s thinking? Well, that’s possible too.
“It was supposed to be the money that was stolen, not my pocket watch,” Colonel Mustang said, livid. “I left it there simply as… well, to serve as a sort of weight so the money wouldn’t be blown away by the breeze!”
Colonel Mustang’s logical “establish the fact that there’s a thief first” plan didn’t quite work out in the way that he planned it. Or wait, perhaps it did. There really is a thief, and now it just goes to show that the thief isn’t interested in money. That or the thief was thinking that indeed, a thousand cenz would be too small an amount compared to the worth of the silver pocket watch.
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Miss Riza had proposed that they all search their office for their missing things. “It’s possible that we’ve all just misplaced them. We’ll never know; maybe it was here all along. There’s always the possibility,” she mused, and I could’ve sworn she was even smiling. “Right, Colonel?”
Colonel Mustang, whose words have now been used on him, nodded grimly. “Yes,” he replied, in an equally gloomy tone. “Right.” The Colonel responding in monosyllables meant he wasn’t in his best of moods, and everyone in the office knew it. They started their search as quietly as they could, silently rummaging through drawers, scrutinizing desks, double-checking closets, looking underneath and within the office furniture… I guess what was left for them to do was to turn everything upside-down, just to see if any of the missing objects could be found.
Their silent search was halted when the door to the office opened all of a sudden, revealing a golden-haired boy and a suit of armor-Edward and Alphonse Elric. The older one (although shorter), Edward, was carrying a folder with him. “Hey, Colonel,” Edward greeted in his usual cool, informal tone. “Here’s the report you asked for!” He said and tossed the folder onto the Colonel’s pile of paperwork. It wasn’t until he did this that he noticed how topsy-turvy the office was.
Well, I can’t blame the boy. He’s been through a lot of chaotic events at such a young age-actually both the brothers. And from stories, I hear that Edward’s almost always in a fight (though he’s rarely on the wrong side), so I guess… pandemonium is not an unusual sight for the Elrics.
“Oh…” was the only thing the brothers could say after the officers explained what had happened, not only in their office, but throughout East Headquarters. It was the safest response, of course. What else must you say if you hear that there’s been a large scale theft happening right under the State Military’s nose?
“No suspects at all? Not even clues? No hunches? No suspicions? Nothing?” Alphonse asked curiously.
“Nothing. Nothing except the fact that what we’ve lost were-” Havoc stopped midsentence. His faced lightened up; he had a sudden realization. “I’ve got it! Ha-ha!”
“You’ve got what we’ve lost?
Havoc nodded eagerly-then shook his head with just as much force. “Yes, I’ve got-no! I don’t have the things. What I mean to say is that I think I’ve got a clue! A clue that can probably point us to whoever stole our things!”
“Let’s hear it then,” Colonel Mustang replied.
“Here’s what I think,” Havoc began. All eyes were on him, paying close attention to what his sudden insight was. “All the lost objects were made of silver! Or at least some sort of shiny metal. The forks at the cafeteria, Grumman’s eyeglasses, Lieutenant Hawkeye’s pen, Colonel Mustang’s pocket watch, my lighter! See? It all makes sense! They’re all made of metal!”
“So… how will that lead us to the culprit?” Breda asked, perplexed. What Havoc stated was already a fact; they all knew that the objects were made of metal, or at least had a metal element in it. They were shiny, and they were important to those who owned them.
“Hmm… so you’re saying the thief likes metal?” Everyone turned to look at Edward, who suddenly spoke. He had a serious expression on and looked as if he was thinking very deeply. Although Edward didn’t get himself involved too much in the military’s affairs-much more if it were Colonel Mustang’s affairs-this was a serious matter, and it seemed he wanted to see how it would turn out as well.
“Fullmetal-” Colonel Mustang said, but before he could even finish his statement, Edward had already reacted.
“I’m not the thief! Just because everyone calls me a name with ‘metal’ in it doesn’t mean I’m the metal-loving freak thief! Geez, what would I do with all those metal things? I can make my own metal, for crying out loud! And why the hell would I have to steal your pocket watch?! I have my own! I don’t need a lighter-I don’t smoke! And what will I do with forks?! Or Grumman’s eyeglasses?! Or-!!” Edward ranted, but was stopped by Alphonse.
“Brother!” He cried, as he stood up to restrain the golden-haired teen. “They weren’t even accusing you of anything!” As Alphonse stood, light from the window struck his armor, causing it to shine brightly. “You should really learn to listen more!” He sighed. Edward had calmed down now, and as the brothers were making amends, something suddenly flew in from the window, almost crashing into Alphonse’s armor.
It was that creature again, the black bird that was always watching the office from its nest on a tree branch outside. The bird was now hovering around Alphonse, desperately attempting to take away the young alchemist-or at least his head. “Hey, don’t-!” These were all failed attempts, obviously, as Alphonse was way too big for the bird, unlike the lighter, the pen, and the pocket watch.
I knew it. I knew that bird had something to do with the disappearances. I knew there was some sort of malice in that bird’s eyes as it gazed in through Colonel Mustang’s window. I knew it.
And I would’ve said something, if only dogs could talk.
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That afternoon the officers of Colonel Mustang’s unit had all regained the objects they had lost. Work continued once again, and their office has restored its peace.
“Hmm. Magpie,” Colonel Mustang mused as he watched some military men climb up the tree to retrieve the rest of the ‘stolen’ objects from the magpie’s nest. “Would it taste better roasted or fried?” The Colonel added darkly. Although he was able to get his pocket watch back in good shape, there was no denying he bore a grudge on the bird for taking his sole proof of state certification.
Unlike the Colonel, Miss Riza had easily gotten over the incident. She was now seated at her desk, doing her paperwork; her silver pen gleamed as it travelled across the white pages of the military documents. “Neither, sir,” she said, before adding in a soft mumble, “And either way, I wouldn’t want to know.”
And so, another day in the life of a military dog comes to a close. In the end, it turned out that the thefts around East Headquarters were not parts of a perfect crime. Although it’s partly because the case has already been solved, it’s mostly because it wasn’t even a crime in the first place. The magpie didn’t exactly “plan” to steal the objects; it was simply attracted to the shiny, metallic things of East HQ.
Now, as I walk alongside Miss Riza, I come to think that tomorrow will be another one of those days of watching them do their paperwork, and yet another day of adventures for a military dog. Maybe I’ll finally be able to make Second Lieutenant Breda like me, or maybe Colonel Mustang will try to secretly feed me again. I just hope that it’s not magpie-roasted or fried, at that.
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おわり。
A/N: I don’t really know how Hayate would refer to Riza. I’m imagining that he looks at Riza as a person he highly respects-the most respected human, probably-and yet also has a great affection/endearment to. Well, if I were Hayate, that’s what I’d feel. Thus, “Miss” to denote the respect, and “Riza” to show the close relationship the two have. :D
Anyway, I do hope that I was able to portray Hayate’s POV with as much conviction as I’ve been imagining. XD Haha.
Special thanks to my beta, Mere. :)