"Are you ready to order, sir?"
"Yes. I'll have the teriyaki chicken, please."
"I like the seafood salad. Please serve the dressing separately." Relena Peacecraft's voice was polite, yet contained a natural hint of authority to it. She handed the menu back to the waitress, who took it from her with a "Certainly, Mrs. Peacecraft". The girl was dismissed from Relena's mind the very next second, as she folded her hands together and warmly smiled at the young man sitting opposite of her.
"Congratulations, Heero," she said. "To one year, and many more years to come."
He raised his glass. "Thank you, Relena. I really appreciate your invitation."
"You've worked so hard. I think you're the only person in the world to make partner in such a short amount of time. Father is really pleased to have you on board."
Heero nodded. It had taken him blood, sweat and tears, but it had all paid off. Being the youngest partner ever at Darlian, Peacecraft, Merquise and Yuy was a great achievement. The last name, his surname, had recently been added to the golden plaque at the entrance of the prestigious lawyers' office. Relena's father had started the business over thirty years ago and it was renowned for its involvement with the socially weak, helping those who couldn't afford legal assistance, and its great commitment to charity and socio-environmental ethics.
"So, how are things at home?" Heero inquired politely.
Relena unfolded her napkin. "Busy, as usual," she said. "Mark wants to run for mayor this year, and he's campaigning for support from his party and followers."
"The United Earth Alliance Party, right?"
She looked a little strained. "Yes, that's the one. His ambitions for the party run extremely high." Relena dropped her voice. "He has my full support of course, but if he becomes mayor, I have to be his dolled up mayor's wife, standing next to her husband with a vapid smile." A frown marred her face. "It has taken me so much effort to be seen independently from my father and to build up my own career. I don't want to be put on the backburner."
Heero nodded. He knew what she was talking about. The Peacecraft name held great standing in the world of law and justice. Relena was raised and spoon-fed with politics, law, ethics, and culture. Every family member held a top position in their respective field. One would assume that every door in the world would immediately open for a Peacecraft; instead she had had to fight twice as hard as to show what she was worth on her own. Relena wasn't deterred by her difficult path - she was headstrong and determined and preferred achieving her goals on her own. However, many people kept thinking that she had gained everything by just using her name.
"We'll see." Relena shrugged as the waitress returned with their orders. "Oh, I love shrimp! They certainly don't hold back on those."
Heero chuckled. "Let me guess, low calories and all that?"
"If I am to be a mayor's wife, I have to watch my figure closely if I want to fit in my Armani dress," Relena said, a little sourly. Heero inhaled the scent of his lovely chicken teriyaki dish.
"I'm sure it'll work out," he tried to lift her spirits. "They say that Quatre Winner is running for mayor too."
"That rumor goes around every year." Relena helped herself to some dressing. "He'd get my vote, though."
Quatre Raberba Winner, founder and CEO of Winner Enterprise Industries, a cornerstone of modern society, was so influential that he could make or break anyone in his path. A lot of gossip and rumors surrounded his person. The man was tough in business but kind and gentle to people around him; he didn't fit the clichéd example of a harsh CEO who was only thinking about dollars, not about the people working for him.
"He has the money and the people for a campaign," Relena continued. "I'm sure half the city would be ecstatic to vote for him."
"I guess Winner Enterprises takes more than enough of his time," Heero answered.
"Yes, you're right. Ah, what is it with men and their thirst for power?" She smiled. "Mark certainly has big ambitions."
"You have a good, honest husband." Heero had met Mark Wilkinson a few times, enough to get a thorough impression of the man. Focused and ambitious, but not arrogant. "You wish you married a docile, spineless wimp?"
"Please, absolutely not!" Relena protested. "I wanted a real man, not one who was intimidated by my job and my ambitions. I'm not here to fetch anyone's slippers; I'm here to take the entire cake for myself! Besides, speaking of cake - you want dessert?"
After lunch, they leisurely walked back to the office and took the elevator upstairs. Heero bid goodbye to Relena and went to his office. As soon as he rounded the corner, his secretary, Harriet Mulloon, rose from her chair. He frowned. Harriet was the standard calm and composed secretary, always keeping her files in perfect order, doing her paperwork with a pristine routine, and she had the uncanny ability to think twice the steps ahead of Heero himself when it came to his schedule. Now, she looked agitated. An agitated Harriet meant impending doom.
"What is it, Harriet?" he asked.
"I have a very important callback note for you," she said, looking at him over the rim of her glasses. Her hand trembled slightly as she handed the note to him. Who could get her so anxious? She worked for the company since the day Peacecraft Sr. had founded it!
Heero brimmed with curiosity as he read the note. Call back T. Barton. Speak of the devil! Heero didn't realize he was holding his breath. There was only one T. Barton important enough to drop everything and obey immediately. Trowa Barton: personal assistant, spokesperson and right hand to Quatre Winner himself. Why would he call this law firm in particular?
Silently, Heero closed the door and sat down at his desk. It was a prominent piece of furniture in his sparsely decorated office, housing a comfortable reception area for his clients (two seats, a small sofa and a coffee table), and a few file cabinets. Every employee was allowed to bring his or her personal touch to their office; Relena had lots of plants and her stepbrother, Zechs Merquise, a suit of armor as he was an avid collector of historical weaponry. The obligatory family pictures were nowhere to be found in Heero's personal space. He didn't have any. He grew up as an only child with his adoptive father, and after a car accident, Heero was left alone. He knew his colleagues took pity on him, thinking that he was lonely and that he worked so hard as to fill up the missing parts in his life: no family, no partner, no children… Why would he bother to explain that no, he wasn't feeling lonely and yes, he liked to work hard and achieve his goals, and that he was happy as he could be? It wasn't his job to correct people's view of him, and he left it just at that.
Heero stared at the note, flipping it between his fingers. He shouldn't be dawdling. Punching in the numbers, Heero only had to wait until the first ring. Before he could say his name, a male voice greeted him.
"I expected your call, Mister Yuy. It is of immediate importance that Mister Winner sees you. We will arrive at your office in fifty minutes. Please have the records on the Schbeiker vs. Winner case ready."
A click told Heero that Barton was done talking. He was flabbergasted. Winner was going to visit him, right here at his office, right now, in fifty minutes? And he wanted... what?
Heero's sharp mind had no trouble recalling the case Barton had referred to. Hilde Schbeiker had bought a house from Winner Enterprise Industries' building division and had filed a suit against the company because the house had been haunted. She had hired Heero to defend her, and she had brought along a professional exorcist who had cleansed the house for her.
Heero didn't even need to rack his brain. Duo Maxwell. Who could forget anyone like him? Clad in black, with a huge golden lion crest on his chest, and chestnut hair tied in a long braid. An open, warm face with large eyes and a smile that could make a Christmas tree look bleak in comparison.
Heero had met him twice, briefly: once at the house, before he performed the cleansing ritual, and once in court, where he testified about the dark 'residue' he had encountered and removed. Apparently the jury was sensitive to either his charm or believed in ghosts themselves, as Hilde was allowed a nice settlement. The house went back to Winner, along with a small scandal about disrespecting otherworldly creatures in his building policies, but that fizzled out almost immediately. As far as Heero knew, the house sold once again, and nobody mentioned anything dark or demonic about it again.
"Harriet, Schbeiker vs. Winner, please," he said out loud. She returned within five minutes, holding the file. Winner hadn't bothered to show up at the court meeting, and his corporate lawyers had treated Hilde like an alien herself. It didn't take long for the jury to award the settlement, and the lawyers had left in a huff.
"Here you are. Anything else?"
"Barton and Winner will be here in fifty minutes."
Harriet looked incredulous. "Mister Winner? Here? In person?"
"Yes, and it has to do something with this case." Heero's mind worked at top speed, going over the case and scrutinizing his actions. Had he made a mistake, had he filed something wrong, was Winner out to get him? Or worse, was he intending to file a huge claim and ruin Darlian, Peacecraft, Merquise and Yuy?
"I'll make sure there's coffee and tea," Harriet was talking, and he barely heard her.
He mumbled a "Yes, sure" as he leafed through the paperwork. She let him be, as he quickly read through the file, taking in the details, preparing himself for the upcoming visit. After only forty minutes, Harriet knocked on his door again.
"Mister Winner and Mister Barton to see you," she announced. Heero stood up from his chair, schooling his face in a neutral expression.
Trowa Barton was a tall man, his height emphasized by the dark gray trench coat he was wearing. The brand was unknown to Heero, but he could see it was at least two months of hefty paychecks worth. The matching suit was impeccable, screaming quality and exclusivity. Barton's hair was dark brown, short in the back and long in the front, covering up one of his eyes. Slightly eccentric, but it suited him; it gave him an enigmatic appearance.
Quatre Winner wasn't as tall, but the aura of authority around him was unmistakable. He didn't radiate brute dominance but strong willpower, a man used to getting his way, exactly the way he wanted it. It would be a mistake to underestimate him: with his light blond hair and a warm smile on his face, he looked more like a casual employee than the mighty corporate executive he was. Winner wasn't dressed in a business suit, stressing his casual appearance.
"Quatre Raberba Winner," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "And my business associate, Trowa Barton."
"Heero Yuy. Please, have a seat." He waited until everyone was settled and until Harriet had served coffee and tea. Curiously, Heero looked at both Winner and Barton.
"Thank you for receiving us on such short notice," Quatre said, a smile accompanying his words. He nursed a cup of tea, inhaling the scent of Lapsang Souchong. Heero was more of a coffee person, just like Barton; both men didn't add any sugar or milk.
"I know you from the Schbeiker case, of course," he continued as he sipped his tea, every movement calm and composed. "You did great work. Thorough, detailed. Better work than my own lawyers."
"Who have been fired," Trowa supplied. Heero could barely keep his curiosity in check. Were they here to offer him a job?
"The fact is, the subject matter is rather strange." Quatre stared at his teacup, as if he was embarrassed. "Ms. Schbeiker claimed that the property she bought was haunted, and you brought in a third party to…ah, verify it."
"The third party was brought in by Ms. Schbeiker herself," Heero corrected him. "Duo Maxwell, a friend of hers. He calls himself a spirit hunter… what we would call an exorcist, I guess."
"Ah yes, him," Quatre said.
"I had his credentials checked, as to avoid any conflict of interest. As far as I was able to check it, of course… but I managed to find witnesses and victims of poltergeists, ghost attacks and other supernatural events, with documented material…"
"Documented how?" Trowa snorted.
"Trowa, please," Quatre said. Somehow it didn't come as a surprise to Heero that Quatre called his business associate by his first name.
"Mister Winner, if you want to read the Schbeiker file, you'll have to subpoena it."
"I know, and it won't be necessary." Quatre sipped some more tea. "Mister Yuy, due to my position, I have the power to make a difference. I'm well aware of my privileges, and I have a strong social commitment to society. That's why I build homes for people with an average to low income, so they're able to afford a quality home for a reasonable price, no shark loans, no huge interests."
Heero nodded. This was nothing new, so far.
"Ms. Schbeiker was one of the millions of people who bought a Winner home and came to love it," Quatre said. "And up until now, she was the only one to complain about… ah, certain activities."
"The poltergeist, or whatever it was." Heero leafed through the papers in the file. "According to Mister Maxwell, it was a gwynnfyr," he read out aloud.
Trowa snorted again. "I didn't know ghosts had their own classification system."
"I'm glad you cut to the chase. That's why I'm here, Mister Yuy." Quatre ignored the comment of his associate. He put his empty cup on the coffee table and folded his fingers. "My building corporation has received quite a lot of complaints as of late. At first, I thought it was something out of a bad movie, people pulling weird and unfunny pranks."
"Like..?"
"A gravestone in a backyard. Chairs stacked together like a pyramid. Electricity turning on and off, sprinklers turning on and off. Harmless at first, but then the other complaints came. People are feeling tired, exhausted. A disturbing increase in violence and irrational behavior. Strange noises, inexplicable destruction of property, reports on apparitions…"
"And you think there might be any connection to Ms. Schbeiker?" Heero asked. Quatre shook his head.
"I don't think so. It's been eight months, and the activities haven't started until a month ago."
Trowa looked a little annoyed, his lips tugging the corners of his mouth down. "Many people think there's more at work than pranksters or vandals. They're getting scared."
A silence fell.
"We want this to be handled discreetly," Trowa spoke again. "And you are the only one who worked seriously and professionally on a case concerning a woman who thought her house was haunted. You worked with a professional exorcist without laughing your head off or immediately dismissing any notion of the existence of ghosts."
"I'm not asking you to believe in ghosts, Mister Yuy," Quatre said, "I'm asking you to get to the bottom of this."
"I'm not a ghost hunter," Heero gave back.
"I suggest you to start with that Maxwell person," Trowa continued as if Heero hadn't spoken at all, "and try to find out if he isn't creating a new 'work area' for himself or if someone is plotting against Winner Enterprise Industries or against Mister Winner himself. It wouldn't be the first time."
"You will be paid for all your troubles, of course," Winner took it from his associate seamlessly, and he named a figure that had Heero's head spinning. "On top of that, all your expenses will be paid. Trowa will give you the paperwork and he will take care of all the financial needs."
"I…" Heero was overwhelmed. "I'm a lawyer, not an investigator."
"Well, now you're a lawyer working ad-hoc for Winner Industries," Trowa said. "You're hired to get to the bottom of this and make sure that no ghosts will ever haunt the company again."
The next morning, Harriet handed him a thick envelope, brought by an express courier. Heero was impressed at Trowa's diligent work; he had included copies of all the incidents: written reports, witness statements, pictures and information on the houses and properties involved, all claimed to be haunted.
He whistled. No wonder Trowa had insisted on discretion. The majority of the upscale houses were bought by people who had a prolific position in society. Tabloids would have a field day if they found out about any of them being involved with 'supernatural activity'. Treize Khushrenada for example, the playboy with a four bedroom, three bathroom villa with a fitness room, sauna and swimming pool. Or Duke Dermail or Marshall Noventa, both decorated war heroes, with their luxury penthouses with a rooftop garden and built-in sauna and other wellness facilities. People would mock them for believing their house was haunted.
Heero carefully read the files. A lot of complaints had disappeared after either a visit from Duo Maxwell or from a Chang Wufei. Heero didn't recognize the name and jotted it down on a piece of paper. Apparently there were two professional exorcists in town. Were they helping each other a hand or battling each other on their newfound turf?
And why would Winner's property be the target? A man with a position like Quatre Winner could be the target of extortion, kidnapping or blackmail…but why supernatural activity?
When he finished reading, it was time for lunch. Before going out the door, Heero dialed Duo Maxwell's number first. He left a message on the voicemail and called Chang Wufei next. He also left a message and went to his favorite restaurant to get something to eat.
Neither of the exorcists had returned the call when Heero got back from lunch, and Harriet, sturdy as ever, handed him more mail and paperwork. He told her to connect the calls from both Maxwell and Chang anytime and spent the rest of the day focusing on his other cases and preparing for a court meeting two days from now. His phone rang.
"Mister Maxwell," Harriet announced him.
"Thank you for returning the call, Mister Maxwell," Heero said.
"I don't get called by lawyers often," a warm voice rang into his ear, "unless it's to mock me about my work or call me an idiot for causing them to lose their case. But you won, so you must have a good reason to call me."
"Excellent memory," Heero blurted out. He was treated to a chuckle. He felt like an idiot.
"What can I do for you, Mister Yuy?"
"I would like to see you at my office."
"Like a date? I hardly know you!"
"No, no, not like that." Heero was both annoyed and embarrassed. He thought he heard Duo mumble "too bad" but he quickly continued, "I would like to talk to you about your activities, concerning Winner's property."
"Winner, hm? The gwynnfyr. Did it return?"
"No," Heero said. "I'm sorry, but I can't discuss details on the phone with you. I really prefer you to come into my office, so we…"
"I really don't like lawyer offices," Duo's voice sounded a bit harsh, "but you can come over to my place."
"Your place?" Heero was dumbfounded. It wasn't really appropriate to meet a client at his own home. On the other hand, Duo Maxwell wasn't a client. He was a part of his research, and Heero could easily write up the extra hours. Winner was footing the bill anyway.
"Fine," he agreed, "what's your address?"
"Elm Street," Duo said, and Heero wrote it down until he got the cheesy joke. "Sorry, force of habit," Duo said, his voice still warm, and Heero wasn't sure if the other was just teasing him or laughing at him. He gave Heero his real address and hung up soon after.
Chapter 2 |