“In his position, with his powers,” Fiver said. “Nothing was destroyed in his house, no sign of a struggle, no forced entry.”
“Who can instantly kill you?”
“A female visitor who leaves a glass with a trace of lipstick on it.”
“No, that was in the dishwasher,” Jen said. “Would a killer do the dishes?”
“Soap in the dishwasher?” I asked. “Maybe she meant to start it on the way out.”
“I didn't check,” Jen said.
“Would a guy about to kill himself do the dishes?” Cal asked.
“We don't know the sequence of events, or the time elapsed,” I said. “Maybe the guest gave the bad news, he did the dishes, fell into despair, then killed himself.”
“How many dishes were in the dishwasher?” Simon asked.
“Just the glass,” Jen said.
“And how many in the sink?”
“None.”
“So between his guest and his death he had nothing to eat,” Simon said.
“Or he washed up immediately after his meals.”
“But didn't wash the glass?”
“What kind of glass?” Fiver asked.
“Wine glass.”
“And there was no second glass,” Cal said. “He had a guest over who had a glass of wine, or a bottle, and likely put away the glass in the dishwasher on her own. If he doesn't use the dishwasher, he never discovers the glass. We still can't put a time between the visitor and the death.”
“But no emails saying anyone was coming over,” Jen said. “No phone records showing incoming or outgoing calls.”
“Burner,” Fiver said.
“We need to get the cops' notes to find out what they inventoried,” Jen said.
“When did he retire?” Cal asked.
Jen went to the phone. “Joined the Guard in 2014, joined the Guardian Angels in 2016. Stayed around for four years and last was seen active in March 2020. I figured he was older than that.”
“He was solo for years,” I said. “Forty-two when he died, born 19 July 1978. He was just shy of his 43rd birthday.” I had his file in my phone.
“Maybe we go pay a visit to Marissa Courtney and just ask her when she last saw him,” Simon said.
“Be interesting to know why he left the Guardian Angels if retirement made him miserable,” I said.
“You're still assuming that the suicide note is real,” Jen said. “If he didn't kill himself, maybe he was quiet happy doing nothing all day. Based on his credit card transactions, he played golf, ate at a lot of restaurants. His place was nice enough.”
“Did the cops run a handwriting analysis on the suicide note?” Simon asked.
“It doesn't say, but I have to assume that it's the first thing they do.”
“I think we should talk to the cops,” Fiver said. “Just because they ruled it a suicide doesn't mean they think it is. Maybe they found the note, analyzed it, and realized it was fake. Then they looked at the rest of the evidence and realized they didn't have any. Maybe they missed the glass in the dishwasher, maybe they ignored it.”
“Why?”
“Stats,” Fiver said. “Open cases look bad. Huge for cops getting promoted. I'll bet the cops dusted that wine glass for prints and talked to the person who they found. Who ever it is, clearly thought the dishwasher was going to be run, so they expected neither a murder, nor a suicide. And I bet it is Marissa Courtney.”
“Considering that it's the only person we know who is involved with Glory Knight, that's a pretty safe bet,” Jen said.
“I'll go see Rachel Thomson on Monday,” Fiver said.
“Maybe we should talk to Calliope,” I said.
“Why?”
“She's an ex-Guardian Angel. Maybe she can put us in touch with the rest of them. Maybe she can ask some questions for us.”
“I'm not interested in getting anyone else involved,” Fiver said.
“You mentioned going to the Guardian Angels' base.”
“Yeah, she's not one of them any more. I'd rather not involve her if we don't need to.”
“So what else, then?”
“I'll ask a contact if she can get us copies of the full suicide investigation.”
“Bobbi Cannon?” Jen asked.
“Yeah, she can usually come through,” Fiver said.
“So what do we do between now and Monday?”
“Enjoy the Fourth of July. You guys still doing that thing for Kids Remembered?”
Jen groaned. “I totally forgot about that.”
“You didn't remember Kids Remembered?” Cal laughed.
“We'll be done before it gets dark,” I said.
“Do we still need to do it?” Jen asked.
“You don't,” I said. “But I've got nothing else to do, so I'm going to.”
“Come around Monday morning,” Fiver said. “Wear a suit.”
“Why?”
“You're going with me to First Families.”
“Why?”
“You'll be interested in meeting Firefly, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Wear a suit.”
July 4, 2021
Last night, a super villain named DooWop broke into Bio-Citadel. Bio-Citadel is the pharmaceutical wing of the Citadel Corporation. DooWop left the security guards dancing while he accessed the company computers. He then left without attempting to steal the millions of dollars worth of equipment, immunobiotics, or vaccines. I wouldn't normally notice or comment on a crime like this if I hadn't just found out that Glory Knight had been looking into the company.
I shot Jen a text: Can you find out if Marissa Courtney still owns Bio-Citadel stock?
She didn't get back to me.
I went to Kids Remembered and helped out. There seemed to be far fewer kids than usual, and a member of the staff mentioned that tended to happen in the summer as young people without attachments wandered about looking for greener grass. I thought that they had better things to do on the Fourth of July.
I avoided Murphy's for the first time in a while, and likewise the holiday crowds by getting home before dark and staying there for the night.
July 5, 2021
I was up early. Shaved, dressed, and in receipt of a text from Fiver telling me to pick him up from his place. Give him a shave and a suit and he looked completely respectable. I expected him to provide some conversational ground rules for the upcoming meeting, but he didn't. He stared out the window and said nothing until we reached the Monterey Building where First Families Foundation occupied the 25th floor.
We checked in with security on the ground floor, showed our IDs and took the elevator up. We were shown right in to see Rachel Thomson.
“Two minutes,” she said.
“My colleague, Tomas Garza,” Fiver said. “Rachel Thomson, CEO First Families.” I shook her hand. Her grip rivaled Cal's. She couldn't have been that much older than Fiver but looked far older, like stress kept her thin.
“Thank you for the invitation to the auction last month,” I said.
“Pleased that you could make it,” she said.
“We're wondering if you can put us in touch with another donor we met at the event. Ms. Marissa Courtney,” Fiver said. “Our conversation was interrupted before we could exchange contact information.”
Rachel looked him over. She produced an organizer and wrote a number on a yellow sticky.
“Anything else?”
“No, thank you, that's great.” He turned to leave, and I with him.
“You should have stayed away,” she said.
Fiver turned back. “How's that?”
“You weren't in that long, you didn't see how it changes you. I see a lot of the others. How they change. You're still young. Grounded. You can still get out,” she said. “I don't want to see this happen to you.”
Fiver looked at her, said nothing. He turned and walked out.
He made a phone call when we left the building, gave me an address. We drove in silence.
I stopped in front of one of those incredible houses they show in movies when they want you to know that the person who lives there is insanely rich. Buzzer, camera and all that at the gate.
I announced, “Edison Quinn,” and the gates opened. The driveway arced to the front of the mansion. A woman met us there and escorted us in. She looked and acted like a bodyguard. “No pictures of the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers?” Fiver asked as we walked through the house. Marissa Courtney waited in the study.
“Thank you, Diamond,” she said. “You can leave the gentlemen with me.”
Diamond closed the doors as she left. Marissa came around her desk and shook our hands.
“Mr. Quinn, Mr. Garza: Marissa Courtney,” she said. “Rachel Thomson said that I should speak with you. I'll let you know that I've already spoken to the police about Benjamin Hanes. We were acquaintances, and I asked him to ask the Guardian Angels to speak on the behalf of my brother to petition for his release. They were unable to, and I'm pursuing the matter through the courts. That's the extent of my involvement with him. I don't have any knowledge of his activities as a hero, or know anything about the groups he was affiliated with.”
“Do you mind if we ask questions?” Fiver asked. “We're not police, you don't have to help us and I don't want to be intrusive.”
“So who are you? Rachel said I could trust you, but she didn't say why.”
“I was a teenage suprahero.”
“Sounds like a pulp fiction title,” she said.
“I'll keep that in mind. But I was a teenage supra. I've met Glory Knight. I retired like he did. I'm investigating his death. I don't have flashy powers, so I have to use my head more than the average guy. It's a slow process, admittedly.”
“And you?” Marissa asked me.
“I'm his personal assistant,” I said.
“Tom's a criminologist specializing in supras,” Fiver said. “He's one of my team.”
“What team?”
“Just a group of like-minded people with unusual skills.”
She thought it over. “Okay. Ask away.”
“Did the cops ask you if Ben seemed suicidal?”
“I didn't know him well enough to be a great judge,” she said.
“Sure, but did the cops ask you?”
“I don't know. I don't think so.”
“Did they ask your opinion on his suicide at all, or mention the suicide?” Fiver asked.
“No. But did they need to? No one thinks their friends are capable of that.”
“So when they saw you what were they after?”
“They wanted to know what I knew about him, how we were connected. I told them it was simply a coincidence that we met at a charity fundraiser.”
“We found his hard drive,” Fiver said. “It was heavily encrypted, but we read his files and search history. He researched you and your company.”
“It's not my company,” Marissa said. “It was my father's.”
“You talked business, I'm assuming,” Fiver said.
She hesitated to say anything. Fiver held up his hands. “Look, I'm not trying to pry, but we're looking into his murder, and it's not clear that the police did much digging. You were the last one to see him alive that we know of, and he was very interested in whatever Bio-Citadel was working on. Whether that was connected to his murder remains to be seen. It's probably unlikely; the man was an active hero for some time. He's bound to make enemies. Did he talk about anyone else?”
“No.”
“Greatest nemesis?”
“No.”
“Friends?”
“No.”
“Side projects?”
“No.”
“You hesitated,” Fiver said.
“We talked about getting my brother out of prison,” she said. “That's all.”
“Look, it's none of my business if you were sleeping together,” Fiver said. Crimson rushed to Marissa's cheeks. “But he didn't have any visible relationships off the golf course. He had a pretty quiet life. Tom looked at all of the data on Glory Knight. He couldn't find anyone who was at large that would have been a threat. The Guardian Angels populated the Citadel with vanquished foes for decades. No one is left who had a grudge.
“You just said he was bound to make enemies,” she said. “Now you're saying he didn't.”
“I said that to see if you agreed. You didn't, confirming what we believe. Who ever killed Ben did it because of something that he stumbled on to.”
“I don't know what it could have been.”
“Okay,” Fiver said. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate your honesty. If there is anything that we can do for you, please let me know.” He handed her a card.
“This says, 'Edison Quinn, World Series of Poker Champion',” she read.
“Yeah, I'm a champion. 2020.”
“Weird thing to put on a business card.”
“I'll consider changing it,” he said. He turned to leave.
“Rachel told me to ask you if I needed anything.”
Fiver stopped. “We've got some decent resources.”
“My brother is in prison. Unjustly. I'm looking to get him out. Ben asked the Guardian Angels to intercede on his behalf. They wouldn't or couldn't. Today I filed to have him released. It's a lengthy process. I'm looking at other options.”
She had our attention. I stayed as quiet.
“What other options?” Fiver asked.
“Extra-legal options.”
“I might be able to help. There are a lot of things to consider and a lot of time involved.”
“I understand.”
“We'll be in touch,” Fiver said.
The bodyguard escorted us out. I was anxious to start talking, but waited until we were in the car driving away.
“Did she just ask us to break her brother out of the Citadel?” I asked.
“Something like that,” Fiver said.
“And did you just agree?”
“In principle.”
“Aside from the extreme illegality of it, it might be worth noting that it's impossible.”
“You know a guy who can teleport.”
“I know a guy who can teleport to a place he's been, or something he can see,” I said. “Also, this entire conversation in conspiracy to commit something.”
“Everything we do is a conspiracy,” Fiver said. “That's what keeps us from being lone nuts.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“Research.”
“My specialty,” I said.
“David Courtney is her older brother. She looks thirty-five. That makes him the oldest first time Supra ever. Was he active before? If not, why not? Why now? If he was active, who was he? Simply a secret hero? Or part of a team?”
“I can check his powers against the data base, check his bio to narrow his location by time in case he lived outside of the city for a while. See what else he got up to in life that may come out. Or you could ask his sister. She seemed pretty up front with everything.”
“She wasn't upfront at all. I'm pretty sure the only reason she agreed to see us was because Rachel told her we might be able to help out with the problem. Oh shit. That's why she put her in touch with Glory Knight.”
“Yeah, we already know that.”
“No, Glory Knight going to the Guardian Angels was maybe part of it, but I doubt that happened. No, it's something else.” Fiver shut down and stared out the window. I gave him about five minutes, then pulled over in the parking lot of a burger place. I went in and got a burger. He sat in the car thinking. When I finished, I went back to the car and sat behind the wheel.
“What?” he asked.
“This is some bullshit,” I said. “You magically shutdown with your secrets. Why am I tagging along just to be shut out when you come to a conclusion?”
“It's deeper than this,” he said.
“Look, we may have only been on a team for a couple of weeks, but this is all I do, so forgive me for being attached so quickly. I'm n
ot cool with you keeping all of these things to yourself in the middle of the investigation.”
“Whatever, just drive back to Murphy's.”
“I will when you tell me what's going on.”
“Drive and I'll talk,” he said. “It goes back to the New Powers and the Guard.” I got in the car. Fiver carried on his narration. “The Guard formed up in 2011. Glory Knight joined up in 2013. It was a pretty big deal because he'd been active for a decade on his own. Late 2014, the New Powers formed up. Thirteen went over to the Guard in 2015. A couple of months later, if that, Glory Knight went over to the Guardian Angels. So, late 2015, we were at the Club House.”
“Wait. The Club House? Isn't that a strip club?”
“No, man, that's what we called our base. We were teenagers. I was 18 when we formed.”
“Makes more sense.”
“Anyway, we would hang out, especially after Thirteen left, everyone got along better. Sloppy, Todd and I were watching the game when Thirteen came around looking for Virtuoso. Virtuoso could do anything really well, but just that one thing. So when we needed to predict where and when the Sunshine Bunch would appear, she would invent the algorithm we used to find them. When we needed a medic, she would concentrate on that, and then sew us up. When we needed costumes, she'd sew those, too. She used the Club House to experiment with skills, and she had a pretty shitty home life, so she stayed there a lot. She showed up a little while after Thirteen, and they went over to Virtuoso's work bench, and went over some blueprints. After a while, Thirteen left. Virtuoso sat down and told us that she had plans for the Citadel.”
“Do you mean she planned to do something with or at the Citadel or actual blueprints?” I asked.
“Blueprints. Detailed. Thirteen said that the Guard was worried that the Citadel was vulnerable. Virtuoso told her that she'd take a long look later. She told Valor about it. He was concerned. There was some doubt to the authenticity, how the blueprints were obtained, and so on. More of an issue of why the Guard would want to know how to exploit them.
“Anyway, we got busy with other things, there were some serious gang activity that winter and Haxomancer was trying to cancel Christmas. We never went any further. Virtuoso avoided giving any help to Thirteen, and I'm pretty sure that she gave the blueprints back. The point being, of course, that the blueprints exist.”
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