“You may find this useful,” She began dumping it into Mike's outstretched arms, “You're the detectives here so you tell me; what do you see?”
“Humph.” Mike sighed, the belt reminding him of nothing more than thirty-year-old men that refused to grow out of the land of make-believe. It was only when he began to lower the belt that he realised it was somewhat heavy – upon further investigation, the gimmicky gadgets appeared to be fully functional. For a dazzling second, it even brought back the feeling that he had once experienced many a Christmas ago when he had received a similar, though obviously less dangerous, belt.
“Bloody hell,” He began to exclaim, “Some of this is military grade stuff.” His hands explored the belt. There was a pack of high tension wire, several small tools, and various personal protection sprays. “I mean, none of it's illegal, but this is serious stuff. This isn't just something to play around with.”
Crawford approached him and pulled out some of the tools. “Not just that,” She spoke softly, “Look at the edges – these things are well worn. They've been used! And not just on one occasion!”
The evidence was all but securing their theory that the dynamic duo had been getting a little too close to the dark world of London's backstreets for their own good.
“My question is this,” Responded Andy to the matter, “Are they the only ones of their kind? Or are there others?”
“I hate to say it,” Responded Mike, “But I think we may need to go back for the last evening of comic-con tonight and see if any of the other heroes have one of these functional utility belts or anything of the kind.”
“You 'hate to say it'?” Responded Andy, “I saw your eyes light up when you held that belt! Let's not be hiding any secrets here, Mike!”
Crawford sighed, allowing her presence to be known as the two men began to break out into a bout of banter. Andy met her cold stare, and dismissed her back to her lab. “Thank you, that's huge!” Spoke Andy, praising her discovery as her heels tapped against the tiled flooring of the lobby.
And so, with little else to do until the peak evening crowds of the event, Andy and Mike stopped via a small cafe, the younger detective managing to sneak away from the eagle eyes of his partner and mentor for just long enough to purchase a deliciously decadent double-decker burger tower. They strolled back to the car as the juices ran down his hands, Andy walking a few strides ahead so that he could lock himself in the vehicle prior to Mike's arrival.
“What's this for?” Mike gestured, prompting Andy to look at him dryly.
“This is a brand-new BMW M5.”
Mike seemed to miss Andy's point entirely, shrugging his elbows as he finished the remaining gulp of the food.
“I don't want it to end up like you shit-box of a Volvo. Go and put your wrapper in the bin, and here's a tissue. Give yourself a wipe.”
Mike took the tissue with an apparent spark of anger before settling down into the car once Andy was satisfied with his partner's hygiene. The engine once again began to idle, Andy taking a moment to mind-map the quickest route to the Excel centre before the car lurched forwards onto the asphalt.
With a pleasant evening breeze filtering through the slightly ajar window, the hum of the crowd nearing them as the car stretched through the last hundred meters or so of open road. At their destination, the partners once again found themselves merging into the crowds like a pair of ford fiestas into a parking lot of Bugatti’s – their drab attired was met by looks of disapproval by those whom had taken the effort – and money – to dress up as their favourite comic-book characters.
Being careful to draw as little attention to themselves as possible, the two men's equally brilliantly trained visions focussed upon the outfits. They were looking for any signs of wear and tear, or more specifically, any gear that looked fully functional. It proved to be a hard task, however, as the crowd moved quickly, undulating, mixing, and dispersing in the blink of an eye.
“It's like finding a needle in a haystack,” Whispered Andy, unintentionally sparking a spark of mischief in Mike's mind.
“And how would you go about finding a needle in a haystack?” Mike responded, barely giving his colleague a moment to respond before continuing. “Because I'd set the haystack on fire.”
When Andy had turned to face his colleague with a look of shock, he turned to see that his colleague had disappeared towards one of the several stalls set around the perimeter of the large conference room. Without a clue, what his partner was up to, he could only try and slice between the layers of conference-goers, each seemingly on the move in opposite directions. He could only manage to draw closer to a rather pricey looking stall before he noticed his colleague slip an antique figurine into his pocket right under the eyes of the stall's attendant.
“Hey! Hey, you!” Screamed the stand's supervisor as Mike tucked back into the crowd, “Somebody catch that thief!”
It was only now that Andy began to appreciate the cunning behind his colleague's plan; Now, the majority of the audience consisted of freckled, puny armed teens, whom wouldn't dare have the confidence within them to apprehend a thief, though those with a deeply wound vigilante instinct would pick their ears up at the call for help.
The crowd shortly thereafter opened to reveal a rather sweaty looking Mike in the burly arms of a superhero – Spiderman, to be precise – whom must have stood a few inches over six foot. Mike chuckled childishly before reaching towards the man's particularly meaty biceps.
“Man,” He spoke, his hands feeling as if they were gripping a slab of granite, “Those aren't even made of padding! You're the real deal!”
Andy released a sigh, feeling that this was the moment to step in as he noticed a flicker of anger in the vigilante's eyes.
“All right, show's over folks,” He spoke, reaching into his pocket to brandish his badge proudly, “This man is with me.”
The outfit clung to the man's muscular frame as he released Mike, his arms immediately swinging together like an iron gate as he held them in front of his chest. This was a man with a swagger of confidence; he knew how to handle himself, that much was for certain.
“A pair of cops come in to Comic-Con to steal a toy,” He growled menacingly, “It's not often you see that 'happening. So, what's this about?”
“Well, we were looking for a vigilante, and a vigilante we did find,” Smiled Mike, handing the figurine back over to the stall's owner before turning back to 'Spiderman'. “But the fun's all over now, and I'd like to talk to you in private.
“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's up. I've not put a foot wrong.”
Andy looked at the man's rather firm facial muscles and instantly sensed that this was a man whom was telling the truth – at least on the part where he mentioned not moving.
“All right,” Breathed Andy, “Steven Clark and Tony Harper. Those names mean anything to you?”
The man's expression dropped in an instant as soon as the names rolled out of Andy's mouth. “Are they in trouble?” He asked, still somehow managing to keep a rather authoritative tone in his rumbling voice.
“I'll tell you when we get somewhere private,” Andy tried once more, “I don't think it's something that you'll want to discuss in front of this lively crowd that we've managed to draw.”
This time, the man was more co-operative and reasoned with the detectives, and after a few flashes of the ever-powerful brass badge, they found themselves in a comfortable office in one of the building's back-corridors.
“I knew it would 'appen sooner or later,” Shook the man's now unmasked face as he sipped from the brim of a coffee saucer.
“Sooner or later? What do you mean by that?”
“Steve and Tony... They're cocky, mate. They're well respected an' all, and they ain't pissed me off, but they thought they were right at the top of the food chain ever since they caught a petty handbag thief a while back. Since then, they've been chasin' their tails deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.”
“Wha
t about you? You run with them?” Asked Mike, “You were pretty quick to man-handle me back down there. You've got that crime-fighting instinct in your blood.”
“Me? Nah. Well, only once. It's a funny little thing. Couple of years back, I was like you. Runnin' around the city with a badge in my pocket and a fancy BMW squad car to chauffeur the scumbags around in. Only, I broke my leg in action. Can't run more than twenty metres these days, so they wanted to stick me in an office role. I declined, obviously. So, they kicked me out...”
The man took a moment to reflect bittersweetly upon the would've-been and could've-been possibilities of his life before releasing a sigh. “I miss it. Really, I do. I guess I just craved it a little too much and went along with 'em one night. Didn't last long. Nut cases, they were, I swear.”
“But you stuck close enough to them that you know what they're up to right?” Nodded Mike.
“Yeah... it's usually purse thief this, dog snatcher that. But they've been getting' a little restless. They wanted bigger and better. Somethin' about a robbery was all I heard mate.”
Chapter Four
Mike stroked his stubble vigorously, almost as if he was trying to rub an idea through to his nerve cells. It did take several moments for the idea to solidify, but eventually, he began to nod his head with a cocky smile.
“So, Mr..?”
“Mr. Lawson, but please – just call me Chris.”
“All right, Chris. You clearly know the ins and outs of this 'Superhero' world, am I right? It seems like all the people in this place look up to you in some way or another.”
“Could say that.” The man answered somewhat vaguely, downing the remainder of his coffee as Andy watched on.
Unlike Mike, the older of the pair preferred to keep conversations written down on a small notepad, just in case the need for any evidence should arise later. As his eyes wandered from the top of his page occasionally, the aluminium tip of his pen etching into the paper as he watched his colleague converse with the Spiderman role player. He seemed to approve of Mike's approach, nodding as an almost telepathic understanding was struck between the two with a brief gaze. Despite their many differences, they never failed to understand one another.
Andy took his own turn to speak, resuming from where his partner had tailed off.
“Think you know enough to... Introduce us to a few more of Steven and Tony's associates, if there are any?”
Chris chuckled a little before continuing. “I warn you; they're all bat-shit crazy, mate. But if that's what you want, that's what I can give you. I reckon they'll be havin' one of their little meetings after this place closes out tonight. I can show you the place they go.”
Andy and Mike nodded, neither of them anticipating that it may be quite that easy to persuade Chris – whom Mike had been lifted off the floor by not more than an hour and a half ago – to co-operate nearly as much as he had.
“But there's a catch. You ain't going there dressed like that, fellas.”
Mike began to fear for the worse as he inspected his attire in the room's full-length mirror, Andy's face only appearing a little gloomier than that of his colleague.
“You mean... We gotta dress like that?” Asked Andy, gesturing towards Chris' own attire. His question was responded in sort only by a brief incline of the man's head.
“Now, I don't assume you brought any costume gear, did you?” Asked Chris, only receiving two rather hollow, blank stares in response. “Right. You two wait here, I'll run over to lost property and grab you a couple of get-ups.”
Andy eyed the man suspiciously, in two minds whether to tail him to the storage room, eventually deciding better of it – after-all, he had been nothing but co-operative up to this point. A minute or two passed by before Chris returned with a large black bag full of costumes. Setting it down upon the table, the garbage bag crinkled as his hands rustled through the contents, eventually finding a pair of suitable outfits which he then in turn threw towards the detectives.
Andy couldn't help but dry-heave as he pulled his spandex cape over his shoulders; the scent of sweat, cheese and onion crisps, and spilled bear seemed to combine to create an almost lethal cocktail of scents. Mike, however, had no issues in the outfit that had been handed to him. If anything, the aroma reminded him of his own homely apartment. It was now a matter of counting down the remaining hour or so of the convention, and rather than mingle with the crowds and let themselves be seen dressed as they were, the duo stayed put and twiddled their thumbs as the clock's ticking, tocking hands seemed to crawl desperately around the clock-face, each moment passing by slower than the last.
Eventually, it was time for action. By the time the three men made their way out of the building, the grand hall had now emptied, save for the twenty-strong cleaning team whom frantically swept the floors in an attempt to complete their monumental task of clearing the room before sunrise. Before long, Andy's eyes began to widen for they were heading into one of the seediest areas of Soho.
Around them, the shadows were concealing a quantity of suspicious dealings. In fact, he even recognised a few of the figures passing by him as men that he had locked behind bars in the past. Thank god for his mask, he thought to himself; if any of these criminals recognised him, the fearsome thought of having Andy being on a criminal's tail would be long gone. There was little time to dally on such a thought, though, as Chris swept them into a side-alley nestled behind one particular bar, a few bags of trash scattered across the cracked asphalt en-route to a small group that had gathered at the far end of the alley.
It was in fact a small miracle that they had not been stabbed during their journey – they looked nothing short of ridiculous, especially wandering around this part of town. If not for the hunk of muscle escorting them around, they probably would have been, too. The group of men, although dressed in costumes of their own, somehow seemed a lot tougher than the previous flock of 'heroes' that had been encountered by the detectives; One had a scar scorched into the flesh of his neck, whilst another had a sleeve of tattoos covering his muscular arms. As if Chris wasn't bulky enough, this guy was a hulk of a man. Even the detective duo felt a little threatened by the presence of these men, and as such, allowed the rather trusty Chris – whom seemed to be recognised by the group – to do the talking in this situation as they cowered in his shadow, watching on cautiously from the darkness.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“These guys want in,” Spoke Chris. “They think they can be a huge asset to your team. Especially with Steve and Tony gone.”
“And how can we trust them?” Spoke the tattooed man, obviously, the brainpower behind whatever was being planned.
“Oh,” Nodded Chris, “They're good. Ex-police officers, like me. They know how to catch a thief. It's in their blood.”
“That true?” Asked the man again, his eyes seeming to burn into Andy's flesh as he looked at the two detectives for an answer.
“Yes, it is. 12 years on the force.”
“Prove it.” Growled the man.
Andy sighed deeply, the cogs in his brain beginning to spin wildly as he inspected the man; he didn't want to embarrass him in front of his pal, but it seemed like it would be necessary to put on a show if he was to earn their trust.
“All right,” He began, “The skin above your knuckle on your ring finger is just a little lighter than the skin around it; you take it off in the hope that you might get lucky when you visit this part of town. Your wife doesn't know, of course, because you seem confident enough that you won't get caught.”
Andy paused, his eyes noticing a large lump in the man's pocket in the shape of a roll of bank-notes. “Or... Do you pay for sex” He paused for a moment, watching the man's many facial muscles change shape? “Judging by how you looked down when I said that, there's definitely a display of guilt there, so I'd say the latter.”
The man, although obviously shamed by the detective, seemed to be impressed by Andy's ability. The detective reached out his hand
, firmly grasping that of the vigilante. “Hi, I'm Andy, and I read people. And I'll just say that you're lucky it wasn't my colleague here who did that; he would have ripped your secrets to shreds.”
Andy turned to Mike, giving a sly wink before returning to face the two men. The vigilantes had a short, indistinguishable conversation before the second man welcomed them into their plans. Chris nodded to the men before he broke away from the group, disappearing into the thickened fog that was beginning to drape itself over the city, a confident stride overtaking his movement as he powered away.
“All right then. I'll tell you what we're working with. Steve and Tony set this whole thing up; We heard rumours that a crew from the states were in the city – some big names amongst them. Tony released information of very valuable diamond being appraised by a local jeweller. Steve meanwhile, gained the trust of these guys. In fact, he found a way through the store's security. We were gonna get these guys in there, catch them red-handed, and bring them down.”
Mike and Andy exchanged glances. Neither of them could believe how idiotic these people were. But, despite their internal anger, they put on brave faces and went along with the plan.
They needed to find the names of the criminals that this vigilante group were letting loose in one of the city's finest jewellers. Despite their best efforts to manipulate the men and gain the information, though, it seemed to be a topic that was not open for discussion. But still, at least they didn't finish the evening completely empty handed; They knew of a heist that was almost guaranteed to go down, and they knew specifics regarding the plan. What was still left to discover, however, was whether the group behind the robbery were the same group behind the gruesome murders that had ripped apart the skulls of the so-called Batman and Robin of the vigilante group.
The duo parted ways as the group dispersed, their extra-curricular activities meaning that they only amassed a few hours sleep between them before they were due to be back at the office. Despite the sparkle of golden sunlight and the vibrant city having a heartbeat of its own on weekday mornings, the two still appeared groggy when they finally reached the precinct; Even the normally immaculately groomed Andy had allowed himself a day off from his rigorous morning routines on this particular day, sporting a shadow of stubble that was beginning to creep onto his chin.
Fatal Reunion: A Very Unorthodox Murder Mystery Page 3
