Chapter Two
After pushing through the rush hour crowds and standing in sweltering carriages, Mike and Andy eventually found themselves near King's Cross station, slicing through a row of taxis on their feet before crossing the road hurriedly, walking a hundred feet or so before the sight of a comic-book laden shop window met their eyes.
“This has to be the place,” Muttered Andy, pressing the door buzzer.
It took a few moments before the door was answered by a rather stressed looking woman, her glasses beginning to peel from her sweaty face due to her scowled expression, a mass of stationary somehow lodged in between her hands as she hurried.
“What is it?” She snapped impatiently, “I'm rushing with enough of my boyfriend's work as it is.”
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Apologised Mike, “But your partner – Batman, right? With an operational gadget belt?”
“Yeah,” Sighed the girl, with a tone of disappointment in her voice. “That's the one.”
Andy looked at Mike, the two partners taking part in a heated staring contest to determine who would be the one to deliver the bad news. They had obviously found their victim's identity.
“We believe your partner has been murdered,” Spoke Andy, breaking the silence.
The air around them was as silent as it was scorching as the woman began to deal with the news in her own way, dropping her hoard of stationary upon her oak flooring with a crash as her lower lip trembled.
“Come in... Come in,” She whispered, closing the door behind the detectives as she cowered in the corner with disbelief. “Him and his partner, Tony... They've been sneaking around crime scenes lately. It doesn't have anything to do with that, does it?”
“They've been doing that? Why?” Enquired Andy.
“I don't know,” Came the woman's shuddering voice, “I don't know. Perhaps they thought that they could be the city's saviours.”
Mike and Andy took deep breaths – they were obviously becoming agitated over the thought of a pair of uneducated nerds contaminating the crime scene, but settling themselves down, they continued talking to the woman, attempting to boost their understanding of the situation.
“How long has this been going on for?” Asked Andy sternly.
“Far too long... They leave me in charge of the shop while they go, and I mean... He's blown off dates to do this. He tells me that it's all for a book... But I know him, he just wants to be like one of his childhood heroes. He wants to be one of these comic-book characters. I knew that he'd get in trouble some when, but oh god... I didn't expect it to end like this.”
The girl began to sob, giving the detectives their cue to leave, backing away slowly to leave her in peace. It seemed as if they had their motive; The duo had obviously seen something that somebody didn't want them to, and as such, ends needed to be tied – their little hobby had, in the detectives' opinions, gotten them killed.
Having gotten more details about the victim via his girlfriend, the two were now en-route to the victim's flat, and as they transcended above ground level from the dreary depths of the underground transit system, they found a dull concrete canopy looming above them, the high-rise apartment compounds seeming enough alone to drain the spirits of those who wandered through these parts of town. Tucked away in one corner, though, was an urban oasis – a small spot of land that had been renovated in the wake of the London Olympics – A more modern looking set of structures towered above the ground like diamonds in the rough.
In one of these buildings, Andy and Mike strode towards the stainless-steel doors of the elevator shaft, Mike's finger prodding the button, the pair awaiting the moment that the doors slid open to reveal a rather spacious interior with a polished mahogany panel. The standard elevator greeting message sounded, and the lift jerked into action, carrying the two skywards towards the victim's apartment.
“What're you hoping to find up here?” Asked Mike, “The place is going to be filled with comic books and video games.”
“Humph,” Retaliated Andy, “Well, what else can we do? Our autopsy results haven't come back yet, perhaps they're having a busy day at the morgue.”
The two stepped out into a narrow, winding hallway, taking a right, and then a left, before they reached a room with a rather battered looking door handle.
“Hey Mike, have a look at this... Somebody's broken in.”
Andy approached carefully, as he rattled the handle, it gave way with ease – the lock had obviously snapped whenever the suspect had broken into the apartment.
Inside, the interior of the flat also reflected the symptoms of a break-in. A large bookshelf had been tipped onto the floor, the contents of which were distributed across the living room, the curtain rail having been torn away from the wall in the process. Andy tailed off into what presumably had been a study before a ravenous pack of thieves had demolished it, though guilty hands had ransacked it, and now seemed far from a pleasant place for one to sit down and read a book. In fact, they couldn't read a book, Andy chuckled as that very thought crossed his mind, as the books themselves had pages missing!
Upon further inspection, however, the book upon the centre of the desk was not just any book; it appeared to be a hand-written journal of sorts. A manuscript for the very book that the victim's girlfriend had discussed an hour or so earlier. A chunk from the middle section of the book had been torn free of the remainder of the pages, leaving a jagged edge down the book's spine. As Andy picked the book up to inspect it further, a piercing whistle filled the air, so Andy hurried to see what the commotion was about. Instead, he was faced with the sight of Mike inspecting a string of wire.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Moaned Andy, knowing that he had been outsmarted by his partner, whom obviously had some brilliant theory brewing within his mind.
“Well, it's an electric cable. A laptop charger, to be exact.”
“OH... Yes, Mike, I can see that. What about it?”
“There's no laptop.” Mike spoke rather bluntly, waiting for the moment in which his partner would give in and enquire about his theory.
“I can see that too, thanks for your insight, Sherlock.” Came Andy's rather sarcastic reply, giving himself a few moments of time to try and match his colleagues level of thinking.
“So... It was stolen,” Responded Mike confidently.
“What makes you say that? He could have taken it with him to his hotel.”
Mike handed Andy the charging cord, which seemed somewhat warped. “Nope. You're forgetting that our guy's a comic collector. He keeps his stuff in mint condition. By no standards would he have done this. Besides, if you were going away for a weekend, wouldn't you take a charger?”
“Maybe he had two,” shrugged Andy, now coming to terms with the mental defeat that had been served up by Mike, “All right, so we're looking for a laptop and a few missing pages of a book,” He spoke again, handing Mike the manuscript that he had found in the other room.
Flicking through the pages thoughtfully, it was Andy's turn to form a theory.
“If I was to guess, I'd say that the poor woman was right. I think the our... Crime Fighters,” he growled rather reluctantly for lack of a better phrase, “Have stumbled upon some information regarding a crime. Information that the criminals didn't want people to know. Look, this book contains too much information – It stings me to admit it, but they did pretty thorough investigations.”
Mike flicked through the pages – there were names, addresses, locations, and even photographs of evidence. He shook his head in anger and released a sigh, stroking his loose stubble as his messily kept hair seemed to have a mind of its own, shaking with discontent for several moments after Mike's neck had stopped the movement.
“What next?” Mike asked his partner.
“There's nothing here. Let’s get back to base,” Spoke Andy, by the time we pick up the car from Victoria and get there, it will have allowed plenty of time for the post-mortem.”
Fancying a little reading
material for the journey, Mike tucked the manuscript into his pocket and followed his partner back into the hallway.
The two of them made their way back through the dull streets of east London whilst informing a CSI team of the potential crime scene, and by the time they reached the comic-con venue, the traffic had died down just enough to allow them to force their way back onto the road, albeit with a little honking and swearing, and at around mid-day, they had arrived back at the headquarters feeling a little frustrated that they had been unable to find any real evidence and that they were having to hand the scene over for a thorough sweep. When all seemed lost, Mike began to pat the back of the book, wondering if he had imagined the slight lump that he could feel within the otherwise immaculate back sleeve of the book.
Flicking to the back page, he lifted the sleeve, and much to his amazement, a small micro SD card slipped from the covers and onto the concrete beneath foot. He scooped it up in the palm and observed it closely before calling for his partner.
“What do you think, a copy of the manuscript? It was hidden in the covers. I don't think our suspects found it.”
“Worth a look,” Agreed Andy, “I'll tell you what – you go and run that over to Alex in the I.T department and I'll go and speak to the coroner about the bodies and see if there are any new discoveries.”
Mike trotted obediently along the corridors of the building, taking a few turns before he eventually reached the I.T office. The usual technician was away on leave, so instead, a rather young looking male was sat behind the desk. In fact, he was so young that he seemed to have been plucked straight from school, and so Mike was initially weary of leaving such important evidence in the hand of the teen, a few fresh pimples still forming upon his skin. He approached shyly before dropping the small device into the technician's palm.
His worries, however, were alleviated within moments as the ginger haired, unshaven teenager slid the device into the waiting socket of the computer, bringing up the contents on-screen. Listed upon the device were several files, all of which seemed to be copies of the manuscript that had been saved at various points in time.
“Here, bring up that most recent one,” Mike instructed as he jabbed his finger towards the computer screen. Mike's eyes flicked across the screen; there was no way that he could read through the entire document on the dim, flickering display unit of the office's ancient relic of a computer, and so he demanded rather hurriedly that the document be printed off.
As the printer whirred, Mike's fingers tapped impatiently upon the stained wooden surface of the desk, the usual scent of stale coffee meeting his nose as he took a few deep breaths, which were subsequently followed by a deep sigh. Time was always of the essence in this job, and the juddering, jerking motion of the printer as it spat out pages at an agonising pace did nothing to help Mike's impatience. It was only once the document was in his hands that the detective began to realise the true value of his fortunate findings. He chuckled smugly, setting off to find his partner as his mind was already preparing the way he would boast to his partner.
The two greeted one another in the hallway with an exchange of glances, with Andy preparing his exchange of information first.
“Well, I spoke to Dr. Crawford. It's a nasty death,” Grimaced Andy, “I can tell you that with great confidence. See, our Batman and Robin were both killed with some kind of home-made weapon, and a particularly nasty one at that.”
Mike listened with great interest as Andy continued; “A barbed pole had been embedded in a cane of bamboo, and as we had suspected, had been rammed through the duo's skull.”
“Well, that would explain what I found in here,” Mike spoke, prodding the newly printed documents that were tucked under his arm so viciously that the smell of fresh ink dispersed into the air around them. And now, it proved to be Andy's turn to paint an interested looking impression upon his face.
“Our missing section? It was titled 'The beauty of death by foreign objects'. To me, it's looking increasingly like our pair of nerds were digging a little too deep for their own good.
“Oh,” Muttered Andy, wondering whether one of Crawford's discoveries held much relevance, “It might be nothing, it might be something – The coroner found a scrunched-up piece of paper in our victim's pocket. It's got a mobile number on it. Worth ten pence a minute to find out?”
Mike couldn't help but chuckle a little before he raised his eyebrow. “Jeez, I know I'm not exactly with the trends, but man... You're really behind with this whole mobile phone thing.” He proceeded to teasingly reach into his pocket, extending his arm outwards so that he could drop his own mobile into Andy's cupped palms before speaking again.
“Here, use that. It's on contract... Won't cost me a penny.”
Looking a little embarrassed to be shown up by his junior partner, whom happened to be wearing clothes that hadn't been ironed since they last felt a female touch at least ten years ago, Andy refused Mike's phone as if not to lose face, painstakingly letting his fingertips crash down upon a series of digits before he held the sleek device to his ear. A drab dial tone greeted his ear, so he tried once again. This time, a crisp Scottish accent answered the phone.
“Good morning?” Came the voice, obviously a little dubious to be answering a call from an unknown number. Not wasting a second of time, Andy launched himself straight into the conversation, establishing firm ground in his first question.
“Steven Clarke. Who is he to you?”
“Aye... He's... well, an employee, if you'd like.”
“Employee?” Asked Andy with a surprised tone in his voice, “I thought that he ran his own business?”
“Yes, that would be the lad's comic-book and costume store – See, he also programmes as a side and he is developing an app for me as we speak. Anyway, that's enough information until you can tell me who you are. What's the purpose of this call, anyway?”
Andy swallowed tightly before responding – this was always the hardest part of the job. “Steven... I'm afraid I've got to tell you that he's passed away. I'm with the metropolitan police force and it is part of an ongoing investigation... if it's easier for you, we can have this conversation face to face.”
Suddenly, the energy began to fade from the other man's voice, and a rather croaked tone came back through the phone after several moments of time.
“I'm... Incredibly sorry to hear that...”
“I must ask, his accomplice, Tony, did he work for you too?”
“Yes, he did. Those guys... They were the best programmers in town. Wow, this is such a shock. They'll be missed.”
Andy gave the man a few moments of silence so that he could reflect upon the information that he had received before powering on with a few final questions.
“So, what kind of apps were these guys making you?”
“Games,” Responded the man, “Mainly comic hero based. Well, everything they did tied in with their interests really.”
“So, you mean to say crime fighting style games?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Thank you for your time,” Andy nodded, pursing his lips before returning his phone to the depths of his pocket.
He turned to Mike swiftly, pivoting on his feet as his colleague began to speak.
“Wow,” Exhaled Mike sarcastically, “These guys really are super-nerds.”
Andy nodded in agreement. “Nerds-par-excellence. It seems like their whole lives revolve around fighting crime – or the belief that they are – in one way or another. They were obsessed with it.”
Mike agreed. “By day they were making their little fancy dress outfits, by night they were out on the street, and by weekend they were programming games that shared their mindset with others. I mean... jeez. I'd be surprised if these guys ever did anything else. No wonder his missus wasn't pleased.”
Andy swallowed tightly before responding – this was always the hardest part of the job. “Steven... I'm afraid I've got to tell you that he's passed away. I'm with the metropoli
tan police force and it is part of an ongoing investigation... if it's easier for you, we can have this conversation face to face.”
Suddenly, the energy began to fade from the other man's voice, and a rather croaked tone came back through the phone after several moments of time.
“I'm... Incredibly sorry to hear that...”
“I must ask, his accomplice, Tony, did he work for you too?”
“Yes, he did. Those guys... They were the best programmers in town. Wow, this is such a shock. They'll be missed.”
Andy gave the man a few moments of silence so that he could reflect upon the information that he had received before powering on with a few final questions.
“So, what kind of apps were these guys making you?”
“Games,” Responded the man, “Mainly comic hero based. Well, everything they did tied in with their interests really.”
“So, you mean to say crime fighting style games?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Thank you for your time,” Andy nodded, pursing his lips before returning his phone to the depths of his pocket.
He turned to Mike swiftly, pivoting on his feet as his colleague began to speak.
“Wow,” Exhaled Mike sarcastically, “These guys really are super-nerds.”
Andy nodded in agreement. “Nerds-par-excellence. It seems like their whole lives revolve around fighting crime – or the belief that they are – in one way or another. They were obsessed with it.”
Mike agreed. “By day they were making their little fancy dress outfits, by night they were out on the street, and by weekend they were programming games that shared their mindset with others. I mean... jeez. I'd be surprised if these guys ever did anything else. No wonder his missus wasn't pleased.”
Chapter Three
Just as the two detectives began to make their way out into the urban heartbeat of the city to carry out more investigations, the two detectives were met with the most peculiar sight of a creature far beyond the comfort of its natural habitat; Shielding her eyes from the brilliant rays of sunshine, Dr. Crawford made her way to the building's lobby holding what appeared to be a belt of some kind.
Fatal Reunion: A Very Unorthodox Murder Mystery Page 2