Alex furrowed his brows intensely, feeling the air in the room suddenly change — from a casual, grieving atmosphere to a game of masks filled with lies and deception. The direction the conversation was taking left him completely frustrated, knowing he was in the dark about a vital piece of information.
He had already started the game losing.
"What are you waiting for?" Ryan said again. "No more games, no more mysteries—tell the truth. I think that's the least you can do, isn't it?"
Rudeus sighed deeply, tossing the newspaper onto the table and straightening his posture. The sarcastic smile and indifferent stance vanished in an instant. One mask fell and another rose in its place, this one made of rigid, cold marble. His eyes met Ryan's — tired.
"I don't know where you got that from, kid, but I understand it's difficult. Grief often plays tricks on us. I lost my father early too, you know? I went through all of that as well… He was a good man, a hero to me, and—"
Ryan looked away and clicked his tongue. "I knew it would be like this." Then he slipped a hand inside his suit jacket and pulled out a folder, throwing it onto the table. "If you won't confess your sins, then please allow me to reveal them."
The two men looked at each other as Ryan began opening the folder and pulling out dozens of different documents — completely ordinary — and a few photographs. At first, they didn't understand the reason behind it and simply waited for Ryan's narrative to unfold.
"First of all," Ryan said in a solemn tone like a judge, half-mocking and half-serious. "I accuse you of being part of a criminal organization, a Mafia. Do you deny it?"
"This isn't funny, Ryan." Rudeus said, almost spitting the words in disgust. "We are fair and honest workers, we would never—"
"My father was an ordinary worker, you know?" Ryan said with a smile. "Everything he did was within the limits of the law. We were poor, but we never lacked anything, thanks to his effort. He was an honest worker… but there were some strange things about him… things that certainly didn't go unnoticed by me, the only person who lived with him."
He then took an ordinary business card from the folder and pushed it toward Rudeus, who glanced at it.
"He was a stained glass restorer…" Ryan struggled to hold back a laugh. "Have you ever met a stained glass restorer before? Oh right, sorry. You met my father. Tell me then—have you ever met another stained glass restorer?"
"I don't think so," Rudeus said flatly, expressionless.
"Really? How interesting! You know… there's something quite intriguing about that peculiar profession. First of all, it's a job that nobody knows much about. After all, what degree do you even get? Is there some kind of exam? How do you enter an industry like that? What's the daily routine like? How much do you earn? In the end, everyone is completely in the dark about this professional —The only thing they truly know is that he's always traveling around the world, always meeting strange people and receiving foreign money… No one really knows where he actually is or what is actually doing… just saying, but It's a very good profession if you want to hide something… like a double life — An improved version of a truck driver if I might add."
Ryan fell silent, analyzing Rudeus's expressions, which looked like hard, cold stone, and Alex's, which gradually seemed impressed — giving hints that he was on the right track. Ryan saw an opportunity in that…
"An unrelated question, Alex. What do you do for a living?" Rudeus's eyes widened as Alex opened his mouth to answer casually — after all, this was a line rehearsed a million times.
"Huh? Well… it's not a secret. I'm a historical heritage consultant. I usually travel abroad quite a lot and then…" His expression quickly began to fall near the end of the sentence. "Shit… you got me…" He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"A historical heritage consultant?! I didn't even know that was a real profession. Must be nice traveling the world for work, getting paid in foreign currency, and meeting so many peculiar figures. It's quite a coincidence that my father, with his unusual profession, knows someone with another equally unusual profession." Ryan smiled from ear to ear before turning to Rudeus, who sighed heavily, holding back the urge to slap himself. "Allow me to repeat the question… Rudeus, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a stone conservation specialist…" Rudeus said, massaging his temples while Ryan started laughing."I restore ancient stones in historical monuments all over the world… in theory…" He sighed once again before lifting his face.
The marble mask fell and shattered on the table.
"Damn it, Alex!" he cursed. "You never remember your job! And today of all days your brain had to work?! You idiot! If I catch you outside here I'll break you in half!"
Alex rested his face against his hand and looked away uncomfortably. He knew he had made a small slip, and it wasn't worth criticizing Rudeus back — he was right after all.
Rudeus clicked his tongue and turned to Ryan, who was calmly drinking his cappuccino with a victorious expression. Ryan still had many ways to prove his claims, but if there was a weak link, why not strike there?
"I'll give you that point, kid." Rudeus took a sip of his coffee. "We're in a Mafia. Your father was in a Mafia. We're all cut from the same cloth. There, happy? And now what are you going to do about it? Take us to the police?" he said mockingly. "Just do me a favor and at least call a hot female cop to handcuff me. A really angry one. Then I'll love going to jail." He laughed cheerfully, imagining the scene.
"You know I won't do any of that," Ryan said, raising an eyebrow. "I just wanted sincerity, preferably willingly. But I don't mind forcing it out either."
Rudeus snorted with mixed feelings but didn't interrupt him.
"Now to the main topic." Ryan pulled out the documents related to his father's death. "My father had his death declared due to a highly contagious virus. From here I can say that he's alive, maybe even drinking a piña colada in Hawaii right now. Do you deny that?"
Rudeus simply leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. "Finish your reasoning."
Ryan cleared his throat and did so.
"The virus in question doesn't have a high mortality rate, except in people with fragile health, which makes it strange for a healthy, strong man like him to die. Besides, he had contracted this same virus three times before the vaccine existed and never even had a fever… but the interesting part starts here…"
"The virus he supposedly caught is a remnant of an old pandemic and therefore has strict medical criteria to prevent a new outbreak. Things like burying the body inside a black bag and in a sealed coffin, preventing family or acquaintances from seeing the deceased one last time, and later placing everything inside a thick block of concrete so it can never be exhumed… Convenient, isn't it?"
Ryan smiled widely.
"Only the medical team and one other person saw him being placed in that coffin. A bunch of strangers and a single family member…" Ryan searched the line in the document and then showed it to them. "The family member who approved my father's burial… is named Desmond, my father's brother…" Ryan smiled even wider. "Who, strangely enough, never existed."
Ryan coughed lightly, clearing his throat once again.
"In other words, we are trusting the word of another stranger that my father's body is inside that coffin. But this time… it's a cunning stranger… because Desmond doesn't actually exist. It's a fake identity. Fake documents were used, which is quite easy to prove, believe me. Therefore… with what credibility do you tell me that my father's body is in there? Especially since none of this would be necessary unless it was to hide something. It's a lot of work, after all."
Alex lifted his gaze and briefly looked at Ryan, then focused on Rudeus beside him, who seemed to have the worst headache of his life. Another mask seemed to have fallen — a thinner one, but still a mask.
"Are you going to say something?" Alex asked Rudeus, who simply shook his head.
"What's your theory, kid?" Rudeus asked.
"Someone ruined the funeral," Ryan said dryly. "He took a bullet to the head, and they didn't want to show his brains splattered all over the coffin to the family. They didn't want to reveal his double life or his miserable end." But then he began smiling from ear to ear.
"Or he ran away, maybe tired of the life of crime, wanting to start over from scratch with all the money he accumulated over so many years but never enjoyed. Abandoning the criminal life, the family, the children, and his wife." Then Ryan shook his head with a smile. "Or maybe he stepped on someone's tail—someone big and dangerous enough that their fury would be an uncontrollable calamity—and he had to flee against his own will, avoiding possible retaliation directed at his comrades and family."
He then leaned back in the chair, interlocking his hands behind his head.
"There are many possibilities, whether I like it or not. I can't know the truth just from pieces of paper. I only have a general direction of the events and a strong intuition… and I hope you'll enlighten me. So, Rudeus… what do you say now?"
Rudeus adjusted his posture and looked him in the eyes, defeated.
"You're right. Everything you said is right."