"Mr. Broughton, there are two officers downstairs. They say they're looking for you."
"Send them up."
"Understood."
Locke hung up the intercom from the Star Tower security desk and opened his front door.
See?
Last night at the earliest, this morning at the latest. Locke's instincts were sharp.
...
In the Elevator
Kate Beckett glanced at George Stacy beside her, unable to suppress her curiosity. "George, what do you know about this Locke kid?"
George thought for a moment and nodded. "Gwen's classmate."
Beckett, of course, knew who Gwen was. Who in the entire NYPD didn't? Gwen Stacy had been the "perfect child" since she was a toddler. From primary school to high school, she'd never missed a single scholarship.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say that if Gwen didn't occasionally use her scholarship money to help support her three younger brothers, George would have struggled to provide for a family of five on a Captain's salary.
So...
Beckett smiled. "It seems this Locke is quite wealthy, then."
"Locke is an orphan."
"..."
An orphan... living in the Star Tower?
Beckett's brain stalled for a second.
*Ding!*
"Mr. Stacy."
Locke stood waiting at the door, dressed in a casual blazer with his sunglasses removed, revealing a strikingly handsome face. As George stepped out of the elevator, Locke stepped forward with a smile and extended his hand in a gesture of gratitude.
He followed up with a look of slight confusion. "Sorry for the trouble. Does a simple car theft really require your personal attention, Captain?"
George introduced Beckett before responding. "It's more than just a theft. Is it convenient to talk inside?"
Locke smiled. "Of course. Please, come in!"
He stepped aside and gestured for George and Beckett to enter the apartment.
'Kate Beckett... isn't she a future Senator?'
'Right. Better build some rapport now.'
'The past is set, but the future is wide open!'
Locke invited George and Beckett to sit on the sofa and asked politely, "Would you like something to drink? Either of you want a Bourbon?"
Beckett looked at George.
George looked at Locke with a raised eyebrow. "Where did you get alcohol?"
Under twenty-one? No drinking for you!
Locke chuckled, retrieved two glasses of water, and placed them in front of the officers as he sat down. "Haha, I'm joking. How could I possibly have alcohol?"
George glanced toward the bar. The wine rack was indeed empty.
But...
George's eyes were like radar. *Ping, ping, ping.* He spotted a trash can near the bar filled with broken glass.
It looked like it had been smashed recently.
Well. That was the instinct of a seasoned, veteran law enforcement officer for you.
Locke gave a light cough, changing the subject. "Mr. Stacy, you didn't come all this way just to check if I was drinking, did you?"
George looked at him.
At least the kid looked a little guilty. Living alone as a teenage boy with no guardian, a little drink wasn't the end of the world—especially since his grades were excellent and he had a good sense of responsibility. George remembered how Locke had protected Gwen two days ago and gave a small, internal nod. He pushed the alcohol issue aside.
"Where exactly was your car stolen?"
"Right in the underground garage."
Locke didn't hide anything. "Last night, I found a decent-looking pizza place online. I was planning to drive over and grab some for a late-night snack. When I got downstairs, I realized my car was gone. I called 911 immediately. As you know, that car was a recent payout from the insurance company; I hadn't even had time to change the plates yet."
"What time?"
"Around nine o'clock."
Locke spoke smoothly, then seemed to remember something. He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, scrolled for a second, and handed it to George. "After I called the police, I complained to Gwen about it. That was at 9:25 PM."
George took the phone.
Locke: "Gwen, my car is gone again."
Gwen: "???"
Locke: "It was stolen. (Crying emoji)"
Gwen: "How? Where are you?"
Locke: "Home. It was stolen from the garage. I've already called the police, don't worry."
The timestamp was indeed 9:25 PM. The NYPD had first taken notice of the high-speed chase around 9:20 PM.
Locke added, "Then Gwen and I had a quick phone call. She said she'd come by to see me today, though she has an interview at Oscorp first."
George nodded and returned the phone. He exchanged a look with Beckett, both reaching a logical conclusion.
Wesley and that unidentified woman were likely on Fifth Avenue because they were tracking the Sin Hunter. The Sin Hunter then high-jacked a car—which just happened to be Locke's, right as the boy was about to go out for pizza.
Talk about a close call.
George thought to himself as he looked at Locke. "If you'd gone down a few minutes earlier, you might have run right into them. That could have been dangerous."
Locke nodded with a lingering sense of fear. "I know. I saw the live broadcast of the chase from home."
Talk about lying through your teeth. This was it.
However...
The messages to Gwen were real, and the phone call was real. Senior Driving gave Locke the ability to text while driving, and the Audi R8's smooth performance ensured that his lie about being at home while on the phone didn't have a single crack in it.
George looked at Beckett. "Did we get the surveillance footage?"
"Let me check."
"It's broken."
Locke spoke up, looking at George. "The garage was installing new smart motion-sensor cameras a few days ago. They aren't fully set up yet."
Even if the cameras hadn't been replaced, they certainly would have "malfunctioned" yesterday. Locke knew exactly where every lens in his home base was located.
Just then.
*Ding-dong!*
Locke gave George and Beckett an apologetic gesture, stood up, and walked to the door. It was the lobby.
"Mr. Broughton, you have a visitor. She says she's a classmate?"
"Send her up, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Locke hung up and turned back to George. "That should be Gwen. That was fast; is her interview over already?"
George smiled. "The Oscorp interview? Actually, today was just her orientation. Gwen has been preparing since last year to get into Dr. Connors' lab."
Locke expressed his admiration.
Don't fear a genius; fear a genius who works harder than you. A normal genius is already an unreachable goal for average students. A hardworking genius is a target average people can't even see on the horizon.
Fortunately...
I have a cheat code!
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666