After so many cups of tea, even the finest blend lost all of its taste. Wufei eyed his cup and slowly shoved it away from him. His left ear still hurt from the telephone call with Meiran-- his wife had chosen this particular night to chew him out about his double shifts. As if that wasn’t enough, his commander, lady Une, had chewed him out as well because of lack of results in the Catalonia case. She was very interested in the Schbeiker case and the obvious relation between the two, but was annoyed and frustrated that there still wasn’t any breakthrough.
He sighed. There was something tugging at his mind, that nagging, whining voice. “I know I have all the clues in my hands,” he said out loud, “but I can’t see the connection. What am I missing here?”
It didn’t help. He sighed again and put his hand on the pile of paperwork in front of him, glaring at it as if he could it set it on fire. The latest reports, checked and double-checked -- and they didn’t help him one bit. No useable traces were found on the plaid blanket on which Hilde’s body had laid. The original excitement about the retrieved fibres was quickly diminished when, after thorough examination, it appeared they were from common clothing, mass-produced confection, available in every store and hypermarket. The same applied to the fibres found on her neck-- belonging to gloves that were as common as the daily newspaper. The lab researchers had defined the brand, colour and material of the used gloves, and there wasn’t anything more they could do. Wufei almost snarled, knowing that the used gloves were sold by the dozens, available at any retail store, didn’t help him. He heard the door of his office open and close.
“Please tell me you have some more information, anything at all, Barton.”
“More than you can imagine,” Trowa looked tired, but smug. “It took quite a bit of money, otherwise they wouldn’t talk.”
He let himself fall onto his chair. Wufei chose to ignore the dark walls under the eyes of his colleague. “Money? Who did you talk to?”
Trowa fondled in his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a miniature tape recorder. He put it on the desk and tapped the rewind-button.
“I searched for Heero’s war buddies Marquise and Khushrenada, and found them quickly enough. I had to buy them drinks to keep them talking.”
“Good thinking, Barton. And?”
“May I introduce you to Heero Yuy, pilot of the Wing Gundam, better known as 01?”
“You’re kidding.” Wufei snorted. “He’s a Gundam pilot?”
Trowa crossed his arms before his chest, sucked in a deep breath and said: “He’s the one that self-destructed in Siberia.”
“What the h…but… that’s impossible. Heero Yuy was the one who saved us from the pieces of the Libra falling towards Earth. We all saw the pictures when the Gundam pilots made themselves known. He sure looked nothing like the Heero we saw yesterday.”
“Yes, that’s where the tragedy comes in.” Trowa looked a bit sad. “I’ve got it all on tape, but I’ll give you the gist of it. Apparently, there were reserve pilots for every Gundam. Heero Yuy was the codename for a nameless kid, who went through hellish, severe training to become a pilot. He was trained by Dr. J., head of the rebel forces. Heero was so determined and focused that he even earned the nickname of Perfect Soldier.”
“And he was perfect till the end,” Wufei said. “Everybody recalls the moment when OZ held the colonies hostage to force the rebels to surrender.”
\\“I surrender, but I won’t hand over the Gundams.”\\
“The message of Dr. J. was sent out all over the world, and Heero followed orders until the end. He self detonated his Gundam.”
“What happened then?” Wufei sat almost at the tip of his chair. He and Trowa, as well as millions of other youngsters, were around the age of fifteen that time. The Gundam pilots were heroes, one for every colony cluster, and many times idolized. In that time, Wufei had caught himself several times daydreaming about being a glorious Gundam pilot, but when the war had ended and five years went by, reconstructing the colonies and rebuilding a broken world, reality and maturity had set in. He seriously doubted if there was anyone left of his generation daydreaming about ever being a Gundam pilot. Trowa shook him out of his reverie, continuing his story.
“After that… stunt, he was hospitalised. Nobody ever expected he’d survive, but he did. Somehow, he met Duo and they hooked up. According to their statements, I think it’s safe to guess that Duo didn’t know anything about Heero’s Gundam past, and I doubt he knows now. Anyway, Heero made several requests to pilot the Wing Gundam again, and even though he was in perfect physical shape to everybody’s surprise, he was denied. He never was to pilot a Gundam again.”
“That’s harsh. After he almost sacrificed his life, he was ditched by his own doctor and rebel forces. That explains the hefty war pension, after peace was established.”
“Yeah,” Trowa answered, a bit saddened. “The L1 government pays him a monthly compensation for what he’s suffered. But he was ditched anyway. According to Marquise and Khushrenada, when it became clear to Heero that his Gundam piloting days were over, he left with Duo. Marquise and Khushrenada have never seen Duo, so they don’t know anything about him. Khushrenada was an OZ general in the war days, but was discharged from his function when he collided with the Romefeller Foundation. Zechs Marquise was the colonel who switched so many sides so many times he was confused as hell himself.”
“We all followed the news back then, Barton,” Wufei reminded him, but not unfriendly. He doubted if either Khushrenada or Marquise received a war pension. They had been on the wrong side of the war, and it was strange to think that a… former Gundam pilot was friends with them.
“I think it corresponds with the age- Heero, the first Heero, should’ve been around fifteen when he detonated his Gundam. I remember, because it was a world-wide shock. A boy of my age piloted and self detonated a Gundam without second thought, in sacrifice for the colonies.”
“That explains his classified background. I tried to steer the conversation into Heero’s personality, but Khushrenada and Marquise were too drunk and too lost in their war memories.” Trowa sighed. He’d give a kingdom for a nice, hot cup of coffee. “They kept mumbling that Heero was an intense guy, they both respected him of his dedication, but that he sometimes scared them with his focus on… certain things.”
“Did they name Duo, even though they’ve never met him?”
Trowa shrugged. “They only mentioned that they felt sorry for him, because he had to put up with Heero’s personality and moods. Khushrenada and Marquise have only each other, mulling over war memories and drinking to forget… or to ease the pain.”
The phone rang. Trowa stretched his arms and legs and stifled a yawn. Wufei answered the phone, eyes suddenly growing large.
“Yes, send him in, Lucrezia.”
The moment he hung up and before he could inform Trowa, a resolute knock on the door announced Heero and he stepped in the office.
“I’m here to bring you the evidence you questioned me about.”
Wufei bit on his tongue to keep him from unleashing a very unpleasant answer. “Thank you, Mr. Yuy.”
Heero was already turning around. “If there’s anything more, you can call me.”
“Sure.” Wufei plopped a file on the desk, shoving it almost right into Heero’s face. “Please leave the telephone number for Heero Yuy, pilot of the Wing Gundam, also known as pilot 01. I’m willing to bet my monthly pay that this isn’t the half of what there is to discover about you, if we had the resources to discover more.”
“I told you I didn’t appreciate you doing background checks on me or on Duo,” Heero said, voice strong and stern, but he had turned a little bit pale. “What are you trying to prove here?”
“Like I said before, we are trying to understand the bigger picture here. Your past as a Gundam pilot could fit in somewhere.”
“Why do you want to link me to the death of those girls so badly?” Heero narrowed his eyes to mere slits. “If you’d truly followed the course of justice, detective, you shouldn’t be biased, nor should you stick to a thread, no matter how small it is.”
Trowa hoped Wufei wouldn’t mention that he had spoken to Heero’s friends from the war. He was under the impression that Heero, composed at first sight, was a boiling slew of emotions underneath.
“I don’t know the girls very well,” Heero continued when Wufei didn’t give him an answer, “but I do know that Hilde Schbeiker was his best friend and Duo is very, very upset about her death.” He didn’t waste another breath. “\\You\\ made Duo very upset with your accusations and you’re trying to do the same with me, now by making obscene insinuations about my past.”
“My apologies once again if something appeared as an accusation or insinuation to you, Mr. Yuy,” Wufei answered him, voice rigid. “But we haven’t accused you of anything. Honestly, we think you’re overreacting to our methods of work…”
“You have no business interfering with my past. You have no business interfering with my relationship. You have no business interfering with Duo.”
Trowa saw Heero’s eyes darting through the room and he saw Heero taking a small step back. Not because he was afraid of one of the detectives. \\The door behind him is the only exit out. He can kill us with his bare hands and then he can escape through the door. \\
“Mr. Yuy, your protectiveness towards Mr. Maxwell may be endearing to you, but it seems very unhealthy to us.”
All the blood drew from Heero’s face, leaving him as white as a sheet. “You’re in for it now, detective Chang,” he snarled and for a moment Trowa was convinced Heero would kill him on the spot. “I’m going to file a complaint against you and taking this to your highest superiors. You have no business interfering with Duo’s protection!”
He spun on his heels and stomped out of the office. The little receipt of the Corner Pharmacy slowly fell on the floor, forgotten by anyone.
Wufei gaped. “What is the man talking about? What… what did I say?”
Trowa rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know, Wufei.” He stifled another yawn. “If you don’t mind, I’d like the rest of the day off.”
“Sure,” Wufei motioned with his hand. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”
“I’ll leave the tape behind. If you want, you can listen to it.”
“Okay.”
Trowa put on his coat. “Don’t forget to go home once in a while yourself.”
“Meiran already threatens to divorce me,” Wufei answered him sourly. “This case is eating us alive.”
“Yeah.” Trowa didn’t know what to answer. “I’m out of here. Don’t worry about Yuy, though. If he’s getting through to lady Une at all, I’ll be there to back you up.”
“I wasn’t worrying about him.” Wufei frowned. \\Protection.\\It was all that Heero Yuy apparently could think about. Something about protection and ‘being safe’. \\It must be the key to it all, I’m sure of it. Protection.\\
He was hardly aware of Trowa leaving the office.
Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 |