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As they walked, Ella couldn't shake off the feeling of being part of something bigger than herself. The job was tough, the nights long, and the dangers real. But in that moment, with the dawn breaking and Ripley by her side, she felt a sense of purpose that made all the pain and fear worth it.
‘You want to say goodbye to Friendly Crunch over there?’ Ripley asked, nodding towards Arthur in the back of the car.
Ella had to admit there was a curiosity in her. She wanted to ask about his mother, about his derelict house, about how his riddle obsession came about.
Ella pondered Ripley's question for a moment, her gaze fixed on the police car holding the prisoner. A flood of conflicting emotions washed over her. Curiosity, but also a deep-seated sense of closure that she wasn't sure she was ready to confront.
‘I’m good,’ Ella finally said. ‘Let the psychiatrists handle him. I've seen enough of Arthur to last me a lifetime.’
‘Fair enough. Let’s get going then.’
Ella couldn't help but glance back at Arthur one last time. His story, a tragic blend of pain and madness, was now part of her story too. A chapter in her life that she would never forget, but one she was ready to close.
‘Hey Mia, you know what’s funny,’ Ella asked.
‘What’s that?’
‘That guy in the back of the car, he’s more than just a murderer. He’s a cereal killer.’
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
The sun was already high in the sky as Ella carefully made her way towards the FBI headquarters. Each step was a test of endurance, her injured ankle protesting against the movement, but she and Ripley had been summoned to the offices by the new director and she couldn’t rightly refuse. As per his usual M.O., his request had been disconcertingly vague.
She made her way to the elevator and then up to the top floor, limping most of the way. Rather struggle than endure the embarrassment of crutches, she reasoned. At the top, she found Ripley already waiting for her. Her partner looked just as weary as Ella felt, the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal etched in the dark circles under her eyes.
‘Walking already?’ Ripley asked.
‘Barely. How about you?’
‘Nothing can faze me, Dark, you know this.’ Ripley gestured to Randall Carter’s nameplate on the door. ‘Except maybe this jerk.’
‘True. Ready?’
‘Let’s go. This isn’t going to be good.’
Ella suspected as such, but after what she’d been through in Connecticut, she wasn’t overly bothered. Carter could do what he wanted to them, and if that included firing, so be it. Ella had survived a lot worse than unemployment.
She knocked on the door, and Randall Carter opened it immediately. He went back to his desk without saying a word and simply left the door ajar. The agents stepped inside, and Ripley shut it behind her.
‘Good morning,’ Ripley said.
‘Sit down, both of you,’ said Carter.
‘Can’t,’ Ella said. ‘Hurts too much.’
‘Very well,’ said Carter, ‘I’ll make this quick. During your last investigation, you two blatantly disregarded orders. You were off this case, and yet you continued your investigation without any regard for protocol or chain of command. Do you understand how that makes us look?’
Ripley looked towards the ceiling a sighed. ‘Carter, we caught a Goddamn murderer in two days. What more do you want?’
‘Your actions, while they may have led to the capture of a killer, have consequences. You can't operate outside the rules and expect to get away with it.’
‘Sir, it was two days,’ Ella began. ‘We can still file all the necessary paperwork to cover everything. We…’
Carter raised a hand, silencing her. ‘This isn't about the end justifying the means. This is about procedure, about doing things the right way. The FBI has a reputation to uphold.’
Ripley asked, ‘Reputation? We’re the best agents you’ve got. I’ve been upholding this place’s reputation for thirty years and you’ve been here what, a whole day?’
Ella, still standing, felt a twinge of defiance. ‘Sir, with all due respect, we did what we had to do. The situation was evolving rapidly.’
