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savebatsfromscratch · 1 year ago

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We beat a hasty retreat from his lair. (Curtains fanfiction.)

Summary:

Harv gets accused of killing Jessica, but the information provided seemed to point to a different villain in the room.

Notes:

Yeah yeah, this is the basic thing to do. The detective is the villain!!!1! How cringe!1!! I get him though. Also these designs don’t look like the “official” actors, don’t worry about it. This possessed me. I was trying to write Pokemon fic and this happened. (Song title from Unpack Your Adjectives, Schoolhouse Rock.) Cws: Canon typical disrespect of dead people, Different Killer, Police Corruption, Past Murder, Murder Investigation, Homophobia, swearing Words: 2,039

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54855373

Harv peaked into the door, watching as Cioffi sorted through papers at the desk that had been set up for him at the start of his investigation. The large man, his hair a wild mane of brown that did not fit his distinguished title, had been all but buried in the new proof that Niki had scrounged up for him. Harv, still not noticed, frowned. He couldn't help but think that Cioffi's behavior around Niki was somewhat suspicious, and even if he hadn't already thought that thought, the bored look in the detective's eyes would have been enough for him.

Despite calling Harv down to be questioned, Cioffi was paying absolutely zero attention to him. He had been called down rather personally, mind you, for whatever reason the questioning downstairs with the other officer, Harv had forgotten her name, had not done the trick. But if it was the case that he had been suspicious for whatever reason, why was Cioffi so unfocused on the world around him? He seemed all but entirely unbothered by the violence that he was currently standing knee deep in.

If Harv was a detective, he might have found that suspicious.

Harv knocked quietly on the open door, causing Cioffi to jump in surprise and frantically reach towards his holster. He quickly spotted Harv, but not before the actor was half convinced that he was already shot.

“Oh my apologies my dear boy!” Cioffi called, his face having snapped back to troubled detective mode, “I got wrapped up in these letters, I can't quite seem to decipher them, please do come in!”

Harv nervously slid into the room, so lost in a sudden rush of terror that he was almost wishing that Randy was there with him. Being an actor, Harv was usually good at hiding his fear, but this time seemed to be shaping out to be an exception. His hands were shaking, thin fingers twitching like twigs in the breeze, and it was all he could do to hope that Cioffi hadn't been paying too much attention.

“Uh,” he said, slowly sitting down in a chair across from Cioffi's desk when the detective motioned for him to do so. (He made sure to hide his hands at his sides.) “Why was I called down here, detective? Just out of pure curiosity,”

He didn't want to say the words on the tip of his tongue. Did Cioffi think that he did it? Harv was pretty sure he was sweating bullets (ironic, considering the circumstances). He couldn't have!

“Well, Harv,” said Cioffi, sighing like this was more disappointing that it was important, “I've uncovered significant evidence that you were off the stage for a portion of Jessica's final moments... in the spotlight, shall I say,“

Harv had no clue how that could be important, wasn't the fact that they had all been on stage what made them suspects? He held tightly to the seat of his hair, stabilizing his shaking hands to the best of his ability.

But if that did point to his guilt, he had no way to refute it, had HAD been off the stage during bows, right as Jessica had collapsed. He had been ordered to throw a bouquet to her, missing his chance to get himself credit for his performance in favor of the actress's already inflated ego. Did that make him a larger suspect than most?

”I notice you've been quiet Harv,“ Cioffi said, his voice a deadly calm that was completely unlike the theater nerd that Harv had seen the man present himself as, ”do you have anything to say to that information?“ He clicked a pen in a way that was almost threatening, and Harv felt a shiver run the entire length of his body. He wondered if he looked pathetic.

”No,“ Harv quickly said, voice shaking like he had just gotten through with a painful run of Thattaway, ”I was just wondering why that was important,“ Cioffi raised an eyebrow and Harv quickly corrected, ”you told us that only someone on stage could have killed Jessica, right?“

Cioffi just stared at him, as if contemplating the best way to lie.

Harv swallowed. ”...right?“

A few more seconds ticked past, neither man moving. (Though Harv was pretty sure that he was the only one struggling to read his opponent.) Somehow, in this office, Cioffi seemed much more threatening.

”Well Harv,“ said Cioffi, placing his pen down onto his documents, ”I have gained sufficient evidence that the murdered may have been someplace in the crowd, and with your history I'm sure that you can see why that makes you a suspect,“

Terror thrown out the window, that comment was mildly offensive, considering Harv had never even contemplated making Jessica late to rehearsal by popping her tires or spilling a drink on her dress or anything like that. Okay. Maybe he had contemplated that, a little bit, but sure never as far as murder!

And besides, where had Cioffi even gotten his evidence? Harv glanced down at the papers, but they were the exact same death threats he had been reading on stage the other day, surely nothing new could have been gained from that!

“What history?” Harv whispered, almost numb, "I promise that I didn't kill her, I swear it,” -before they were even out of his mouth, Harv was already regretting his next words, but somehow they slipped out anyway- “on my life,”

Cioffi chuckled, and the barrel of his gun shone in the light of the office. “That's a heavy statement in a situation like this, do you really mean it?”

“I didn't kill her,”

“Oh?” Cioffi leaned a little closer on the desk, his teeth sparkling like a wild animal's as he stared into Harv's eyes. “I've heard lots of stories about you, you're rather untrustworthy, if they are to be believed,”

Harv felt frozen in his chair as Cioffi leaned back and smiled. Who had said he was untrustworthy?

“Are you wondering who gave me that little tidbit of information?” Cioffi asked, back to smiling calmly, as if this was all some sort of show to him, “I bet I would be if I was in your shoes,”

Harv bit his lip in some sort of effort to suppress a whine or terror. (It didn't work, of course.) He did wonder, but what he really wanted to know was why Cioffi was so convinced he had killed a girl that he could hardly care less about. It wasn't that he wanted this show to keep going, and Cioffi knew that, so why would he kill the problem with it?

“Or maybe you're wondering what other evidence I have against you,” Cioffi said, his cheerful smile twisting into an awful smirk when he saw the look on Harv's face. (How had he read his mind so perfectly?) “You are, aren't you,”

It wasn't a question, but Harv answered anyway.

Or, at least his face did, anyway.

”Well,” Cioffi began, getting the same look in his eye that Aaron used to when he thought of a good way to push the plot along (if Harv had been the detective, he might have thought that was suspicious), “Everyone in this show has reason to have killed Jessica, and you are no exception,”

Harv had already known that, so he let Cioffi continue, even if the detective had paused as if waiting for a retort. ...or applause.

“However...” he continued, sounding almost offended for a split second, “in the light of recent information, there are questions to be asked about people off the stage-,” he still refused to specify what the proof could possibly have been, “-and as far as we know, you were the only member of the cast who was off of the stage during bows,”

Harv sank down slightly, thin arms now shaking just as his hands had been. He had never felt this direct of a feeling of terror before, but he didn't even try to move. He knew that if he left, he might as well have killed Jessica and every other murder in the past month.

“And before you ask about Sasha and his musicians, none of them could have done it because they were actually doing something important at the time of Jessica's collapse,” Cioffi said, sounding pleased with himself again.

Harv bristled, the wavy hair that had flopped into his eyes shaken out of place when he said up straight again. He didn't want to throw people under the bus, but if Cioffi was going to start it, there were lots of other people who had also been absent from the stage at that moment. ”What about Jenny?“ he pointed out, ”I'm not saying she did it, but she had complete control of the stage, and she wasn't there either!“

”The stage manager?“ Cioffi paused as if to think about it, but the pause was short lived, “ I don't think so, she knows too much, she would have found a different time to do if it had been her,”

Harv couldn't help but think that Cioffi sounded oddly like he was making all of this up as he went along. As if he knew much more than he was actually letting on, even more than a detective should know.

“What else then,” Harv managed, throat dry, “what makes me more likely than her?”

“Like I said,” Cioffi said, grinning, “you're untrustworthy,”

Harv stared at him. What was he talking about?

Cioffi frowned, thinking. “Though I guess I got that from someone untrustworthy as well,” he shrugged, now talking fully to himself, ”maybe they're both good suspects then,“

Again, Harv couldn't help but think that Cioffi was acting awfully calm if he really thought that Harv had killed someone. And what did he mean by someone untrustworthy? His informant had been untrustworthy? Why had he listened if he didn't trust them?

This last question ended up voice itself, much to both of their surprise.

”I don't trust you gays,“ Cioffi said, waving his hand like this was completely normal to say, ”Always planning something,“

”Excuse me?!“ Harv started, terror both masked and kicked up to eleven, ”What did you say to me?!“

”Don't bother hiding it,“ Cioffi said, looking surprised, almost as if he thought Harv was offended by being called gay instead of by what he really was reacting to, ”That I have absolute proof of,“

Harv stared at him, vision tinged red with a sudden rage. What kind of thing was that to say to someone? What did that have to do with a murder investigation? How had Cioffi even found out about that?

Cioffi smiled at him, calm, but now visibly hateful, ”You probably don't need my help figuring out who told me you were untrustworthy, then,“ he sneered, ”unless there's multiple people you've been picking from, that would check out,“

Harv's mouth fell open. His hands stopped shaking.

He couldn't believe he was hearing this.

What the fuck?

But despite the mess that his mind was quickly turning into, he had heard Cioffi's words. And he had been right on one thing, he didn't need the detective's help.

Harv felt mildly ill.

Surely Randy hadn't actually/thought Harv would have killed Jessica?

They sat in utter silence for a few seconds, but soon Cioffi's sneer had faded back into a cheerful smile. ”However,“ he said, drawing Harv's attention back to him, ”I am willing to make a deal with you, a deal to keep all of this private,“

Harv stared in numb silence, and Cioffi's smile twisted wider, almost reaching the brown mane of hair that framed his face.

“As long as you don't mess up this show, I'll let you go,”

Harv was in too much shock to register how corrupt of a statement that had been if Cioffi really believed he was the killer. If he had been in any mind to think, he would have even thought it was a little suspicious.

“And you are dismissed Mr. Fremont,”

It was a command.

And Harv listened.

He stood stiffly, swept out of his chair, and walked shakily towards the door.

It was only once he was outside of the office that he began running.

Notes:

Come ON guys. Cioffi is the PERFECT murder! He killed the person who was getting his favorite show bad reviews, and framed the person who was actually giving those reviews! The cast already doesn’t like him, so they wouldn’t question it! He killed Jenny the stage manager because she knew too much, and he was able to tell that the It’s A Business lady killed her husband because he certainly didn’t do that part! Doesn’t anyone hear me???? Also, if anyone knows what show I saw, you do NOT.

#harv fremont #frank cioffi #curtains #Canon typical disrespect of dead people #Different Killer #Police Corruption #Past Murder #Murder Investigation #Homophobia #swearing #my writing #actual post #Randy Dexter #Niki Harris #Jessica Cranshaw

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