The Untimely Death Box Set

by James Kipling

  “So what do you think?” Williams said to Yuan as they drove back in Yuan’s new SUV. “Any insights? You’re the one who has a girl involved in these comic events.”

  “She does cosplay,” Yuan explained. “The contests are just a way to show off the things she makes with a sewing machine. She’s not very involved with the comic convention people.”

  “But to answer your question,” Yuan continued. “I think both of them were sucked into their fantasy world where they became the superheroes they loved. I’ve seen other people pulled into their own reality tunnel. Most of the time, they know how to separate it from their mundane lives.”

  “I have a brother-in-law who does Civil War reenactments in Gettysburg,” Williams pointed out. “But he really doesn’t expect the confederates to come over the hill when he puts on his blue uniform and walks out there with a musket.”

  “Similar idea. Creating a new reality based on what you have to work with. A man puts on a mask and cape and becomes a completely new person. For some people it’s a costume ball, for others, a way of life.”

  Chapter 3.

  “I just heard from Doc Stanford,” Williams said as Yuan stepped back into their joint office. Yuan had stepped outside to talk to one of his “girls”. He left the office doing “baby-talk” with her.

  “Where does he find them?” Williams said to himself as he shook his head.

  “What did Doc Stanford say?” Yuan inquired as he returned the phone to his pocket.

  “Forensics had a look at the costumes those two wore. There was no label of any kind inside them. They weren’t the kind of low quality things you see sold at Halloween stores or rented from costume shops. They appeared to be custom made. Whoever made the costumes for those too did an outstanding job. Even the capes are made of heavy-duty water repellent synthetic material you can’t buy off the rack. They paid top dollar for them.”

  “What about the masks?” Yuan asked as she sat down on his chair. “They still had them on when the patrol men found them.

  “Custom made with silicone,” Williams told him. “They didn’t go cheap on those either. Forensics thinks they had casts made from their heads and the masks were constructed to fit the person who wore them. It’s the kind of work you’d find at a prototype shop. We’re not talking styrene masks with the string in the back. These are made so that the people who wear the masks don’t have to worry about them falling off.”

  “They were making good money in the IT field,” Yuan pointed out. “I expect they could afford these costumes.”

  “At least it won’t be hard to find the people who made them,” Williams said as he opened his laptop and began to look at results from a search engine.

  An hour later, he’d identified several companies, which supplied the cosplayers in Philly. Most were located around Fabric Row, a collection of stores which furnished material to dress and suit designers all over the Delaware Valley. Philadelphia still had quite a few clothing design companies and places which made limited run editions for the garment trade. By making a few select phone calls, he was able to discover the names of several people who ran design houses for the cosplayers. As this was a big weekend for them due to the convention, Williams didn’t think he’d get anyone on the phone.

  He was in luck today. The first woman he called turned out to be the seamstress who made the costumes for both of the victims. She had a small shop near Broad Street and remembered both of the young men who came in for fittings. Williams took down notes as she talked about them.

  “I remember both of those fine young men, Detective Williams,” the woman told him over the phone. “They always came together. They were obsessed with the Hyenaman and Sunbear characters out of the comics and brought me every kind of picture of the costumes they could find. I had to take plenty of measurements and find just the right material to meet their demands. They didn’t give me the least bit of trouble when I quoted them a price. I saw on TV last night they were found dead and I grieve for them. Where those my costumes they had on?”

  “I’m afraid so, Ma’am,” Williams told her. “Everything you told me matches the costumes they had on at the time of death.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear it. It was my best work to date and I planned to use it them on my webpage. I can’t do it after this has happened, can I?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it. Is there anything else you can tell us about them?”

  “They were obsessed with those comic book characters. Both of those men knew everything imaginable about Hyenaman and Sunbear. They would talk endlessly about them while I fitted them. It was the way some men talk about sports statistics. And they seemed to think it was possible to become those characters in real life. I would hear them talk about going to police supply companies to find places you could buy similar weapons to the ones out of the comics.”

  “Will you be around this weekend in case we need to ask you anything else?” Williams said to her on the phone. He thought about the comic convention.

  “I’ll be at the convention this weekend,” she told him. “I’ve got a booth booked near the back of the main exhibition hall. Look for me under the banner for Moonstar Creations.”

  “Thank you, we just might be by there today.” He cut the connection and returned the phone to his pocket.

  “I guess we’re headed back to the comic convention,” Williams told his partner who was busy with his phone. “You get to drive again.”

  “Thank God,” Yuan said and put his phone away. “Another trip in that dump of yours would be too much for me to handle.”

  “I talked to the lady who made the costumes for them,” Williams told Yuan on the way over to the convention. “She said they were obsessed with the comic book characters. I wasn’t surprised to hear it, not after what I learned from their manager. She also let me know they dumped some serious cash on those costumes. Those guys were some serious role players.”

  “Did she have any other insights?”

  “They were talking about building weapons from the comic books. The guys were trying to find someone who could make them one of those gas guns used in the old comics.”

  “Great,” Yuan commented, “another reason someone might have killed them.” He had a bad vision of two comic book guys trying to pull out a gas-powered weapon only to discover it didn’t work like the one in the comic books. “It’s a miracle they didn’t get killed earlier.”

  They made their way back into the Triple Tree Hotel, buying another pass for the day. Williams didn’t see the guy who thought he was “in character” the last time he appeared. After purchasing the tickets and receiving their armbands to show they had paid, the ticket seller asked them if they had received their “Swag Bags”.

  “Our what?” Williams asked the young lady behind the counter.

  “Swag,” she told him. “You know, the stuff we all get.” When he continued to stare at her, she handed him and Yuan a plastic bag full of promotional merchandise. It also contained a brochure about the convention.

  The two detectives sat down at the nearest table they could find and looked through the bags. Neither one of them was interested in the contents, but each had nephews and nieces they could give a lot of the small action figures and comic books to later in the week. Williams took out the brochure and found the costume maker’s booth in the exhibition hall.

  “Can you believe this?” he said to Yuan. “You need a map just to find your way around this place.”

  The located the Moonstar Creations banner at the end of the fifth row at the convention. All around them people dressed in barbarian fashion or sporting superhero costumes walked around and had their picture taken. Yuan pointed out that the women cosplayers who wore tight costumes attracted the largest crowds, which always consisted of young men with a dazed look in the eyes. Finally, they saw a large yellow banner over a booth with several young women talking to potential customers about the benefits of their work.

&
nbsp; Williams felt a little stupid as he’d neglected to get the name of the woman who owned the company he was supposed to meet. He walked up to an elderly lady in a flowery dress and recognized her voice from the one over the phone as she finished telling a young woman about the importance of metal stays inside a corset as opposed to the plastic ones. When she finished, he introduced himself. She introduced herself as Millicent Jones.

  “Glad to meet you detective,” she said to him shaking his hand. Williams introduced her to his partner.

  “Has word of the killings spread through the convention?” Yuan asked her.

  “Everybody’s talking about what happened,” she told him. “The convention staff put out an alert and warned people to stay away from any place that isn’t properly lit.”

  “Did anyone leave over concerns of safety?” Yuan asked again.

  “A few. You have to understand. People plan all year for his event. If Earth was in the path of a comet, they’d still show up.”

  “Is there anyone else we can talk to?” Williams asked her. “Someone who might have knew them or was on good terms with them?”

  “You can talk to The Spinner,” she told him. “He knew them better than anyone else.”

  “The who?”

  “The Spinner. He’s a guy who costumes as the superhero from the sixties. Did you ever read the comics? The character is still around.”

  “The guy who was bit by a radioactive tarantula?” Yuan said. “I think I used to read those comics when I was a kid. Didn’t he have the power to climb up walls and carried a gun which shot out synthetic webs?”

  “That’s him,” she confirmed. “I think he’s standing over there.” The woman pointed to the far corner of the hall.

  Forty feet away stood The Spinner. It was not possible to tell much about his as the costume he wore covered his entire body. He stood over six feet in height and ruled the floor where the other costumed superheroes tried to attract attention from the people attending the convention. His arms were muscled and the rest of his body had a lean and hungry look. This was someone who took his role seriously to the point of self-modification. They could tell his costume was no cheap polyester duplication either. Even the boots he wore were constructed of a special red patent leather, which matched the rest of his costume.

  “Let’s go have a word with this one,” Yuan suggested to Williams. His partner agreed.

  He stood in place as they approached, barely registering their presence as the two detectives walked up to him. The Spinner was the man who knew no fear, according to the legend. The preamble to each of his comic adventures explained how there was only so much fear handed out to the race of man at creation and when the creator came to the man who would be known as The Spinner, there was no more left. The Spinner stood before them, the man who lacked fear.

  “Mr. Spinner,” Yuan said to him, bringing out his police badge, “we’d like to have a word with you.”

  “Who wishes to speak with The Spinner,” he said. “Know ye, that I am the man who lacks fear…”

  “Do you also lack a permit for the piece on your side?” Williams asked him pointing at the web gun, which dangled from his utility belt. “It might be a tool which shoots out silly string, but it looks like a forty-five Magnum in poor light.”

  The Spinner spun down. All of the sudden the careful pose and heroic image became that of another civilian who didn’t want a citation which might cost him a job promotion. The Spinner offered to sit down with the two representatives of law and order in order to better discuss the case that they needed solved.

  “Buy you guys a drink?” he asked him. “Are you allowed to have one on when on duty?”

  “No and no,” Yuan told him. “Unless you work undercover and neither of us wants to do that.”

  “By the way, my real name is Mark Aber.”

  “Don’t worry; your secret is safe with us.”

  They went over to a table next to the emergency exit and sat down. Several of the superheroes on the floor starred at the trio with curiosity. Williams could see them try to figure out whom they were supposed to represent. The last thing he wanted was another cosplayer who mistook him for an old TV detective. He had no idea who they might think Yuan was supposed to emulate.

  “How long did you know them?” Yuan asked as he pulled out his tablet to take notes.

  “Four years,” both of them moved out here from California after they graduated college,” The Spinner answered them. “They went to some high tech college where they learned the latest and greatest in the computer field. I used to see both of them on forums about comic characters. They were self-appointed experts who could argue up one side and down the other about the history of comics. For some reason they focused on Hyenaman and Sunbear. Always thought it was a little bit strange for two guys to pick out those characters.”

  “Why?”

  “They never were as popular as some of the other ones. If you go into the comic stores, you won’t see many back issues for them. The characters peaked about twenty years ago. Do either of you have an interest in comics?”

  “Used to,” Williams told him as he made a note on his pad, “but I bought mine off spin racks. Do they still have those?”

  “Here and there. They were popular when you bought your comics at drugstores and grocery stores. These days, its an older crowd.”

  “So we’ve noticed.”

  “Anyway we started hanging out together. I thought the guys might be gay because they were never apart, but then I found out one of them had a girlfriend.”

  “We met her,” said Yuan.

  “I guess Marksman wasn’t so lucky with women,” The Spinner continued. “I introduced them to the lady at Moonstar Creations who does my costumes and they dropped some serious cash on her. When I saw their costumes, I was flabbergasted. It wasn’t just one costume; they had an entire line of Hyenaman and Sunbear costumes. The tried to feel me out to see if I wanted to join their crew. Of course, I wasn’t interested. I have an image to uphold. I work hard at what I do and I’ve been up here longer than any of them.”

  “Anyway they started going out at night. At first, I thought they were just trying to “feel” their characters better. We don’t have any way to act out our roles like those medieval reenactor guys and gals do, so there’s not much more you can do but show up here once a year in style. Then they started telling me how they’d stopped drug sales near where they lived wearing costumes and wanted to know if I was interested in taking what we do to the next level.”

  “What was the next level?”

  “They wanted it all. Secret hideout. Climbing over buildings at night, special incapacitating weapons, the whole deal. I told them they were crazy. You start messing with the drug trade and those guys will spend a week watching you die. I didn’t want a thing to do with it.”

  “Sounds like you made the right decision.”

  “Or they made the wrong ones. It’s like the guys who want to be real medieval knights. How you gonna do that and get rid of modern medicine? They want to die in glory on the battlefield, not bleed to death from a gut wound.”

  “When was the last time you saw them?”

  “The night before their bodies were discovered. They were here strutting all over the place. I think they really thought they were superheroes. I’m sorry, but somebodies lead bullet trumps any comic fantasy. It’s why the game is played for what it is in the pages. And it should stay there.

  The two detectives thanked The Spinner for his time and left him their business cards. They told him not to hesitate to call them if he had any information they could use. He promised he would and they left the convention.

  On the way out, they noticed the costumed players were staying close to the front of the hotel. The hotel security seemed to be very careful about who was admitted, and who was not, into the hotel. Yuan noticed a young woman in a kitty costume smoking a cigarette outside while she had a man, dres
sed as a dog, on a leash next to her.

  “Wait a minute,” he told Williams. “I see someone I need to talk to. Just give me a minute.”

  “Sure,” said Williams. “I’m enjoying the view anyway.” His attention was focused on two women in their twenties wearing little more than body paint.

  “How are you, Debbie?” Yuan said to the woman in the cat costume. “I haven’t seen you and Fred in a long time.”

  “We don’t get out much,” she replied, as she blew a smoke ring into the air. “Do we, Fido?”

  “Woof,” said the man dressed like a dog. Yuan notice he wore kneepads.

  “How are your girls?” she asked him.

  “Good, one was here yesterday. Did you know the two guys who were shot yesterday?

  “I used to see them around, but only at places like this. They never showed up at any bars or clubs. Too bad because that guy Clark was pretty cute. I would’ve liked to have a go at him. And you’d have liked to watch, right, Fido?”

  “Woof!”

  “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

  “More friends of yours?” Williams asked his partner as they walked away.

  “Yes,” Yuan responded. “I thought they might know something but they didn’t. Can you believe they’ve been married thirty years?”

  Chapter 4.

  The following Monday, the two detectives phoned Mark Aber, AKA The Spinner and had him meet them on the north side of Philly near Cotman Avenue. They were in a part of Philly that had seen better days, but hadn’t fallen to the levels of The Badlands. Crime existed in this part, just not as bad as some areas. The plan was for The Spinner to show them some of the areas the murder victims planned to patrol in their costumes.

  They waited in Yuan’s SUV until he showed up. It was a warm evening and the sky was overcast. Williams sipped a cup of coffee while they waited. Yuan had to remind him three times not to drop the cup in his car. Williams would act as if it was about to fall, then catch it, much to the wrath of his partner.