Author's Note: There's a yummy fanart picture of Trowa's act at The Jungle. For anyone interested, go to livejournal, the user name t-shirt1x2, and the entry "Trowa fanart".
Witness Protection Part 7
Meeting the Enemy
Captain Po was less than thrilled with Chang and me when we showed up in her office the next morning to explain our apprehension and release of Maxwell.
"Tell me again why you didn't charge him with murder?" she asked icily, giving us both that scathing glare she was known for.
"Because we think he's a witness, rather than the killer," I reminded her.
"You have his fingerprints in the apartment, DNA that could be matched, his admission that he and Merquise were lovers. What more do you want?"
"A motive would be nice," I replied steadily. "And frankly I can't picture how he'd have gotten Merquise on his knees at the door like that."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she blurted. "They were gay, Yuy! For all you know Merquise was giving Maxwell a blow job when he decided to kill him."
While that presented an interesting and very gruesome image, it didn't fit what I'd observed of the crime scene. "Captain, there were dishes in the sink and they'd had sex in the bed. Why wouldn't Maxwell have shot Merquise there? Why commit the murder at the door?"
"Well if you'd hung onto the suspect, we could have asked him that," she snapped curtly. "I want you two to pick him up again. And this time charge him with murder and keep him locked up while we finish the investigation."
"That could be a problem," Wufei admitted reluctantly. "He slipped the tail we put on him within an hour."
She rolled her eyes. "Lovely."
"What we'd really like to do is talk to Khushrenada," I said carefully.
"Khushrenada," she echoed. "Yuy, do you understand how untouchable that man is?"
"I understand that despite a lack of usable evidence, we know damned well he's a criminal!"
"Knowing it is a far cry from proving it," she pointed out.
"Yes, but if we can shake him up a bit--let him know we suspect him, and that we're digging up dirt on him--he might let something slip," I suggested.
"Or he might sue the department for slander."
"How can questioning him about a business associate's death be considered slander?" Chang asked coolly.
Captain Po fixed a snide glare on me. "Yuy's not known for his tact."
If I expected my partner to jump to my defense, I was sadly mistaken. "No," he conceded. "Which is why I'll ask the questions and Yuy can just stand there and look tough."
What the fuck?
"I'm perfectly capable of treating the man civilly," I said curtly. And that was true. I mean, even after Maxwell spit on my paperwork on the interrogation desk, I hadn't stooped to violence--or even threats--unlike the first time he and I crossed paths three years earlier. Obviously I had matured a bit. I could certainly keep my cool around an aristocratic business exec like Khushrenada.
"Let Chang do the talking," ordered the Captain. "And keep it short and to the point. Then get your asses back here to go over the forensic reports while I send a couple of uniforms to track down your wayward suspect."
"You mean Maxwell?"
"Do you have any other missing suspects?"
"He's a witness," I insisted, somehow deeply convinced of that fact, despite evidence to the contrary.
I pondered that on the way to Khushrenada's high rise office building. Maybe it was the way Ms. Noin had said that "Duo adored Zechs," or the casual way Barton had said he'd "found a good thing in Zechs Merquise." But I got the distinct feeling there'd been something genuine between the crime lord and the ex-stripper. And in spite of Maxwell's perfectly vile attitude, he just didn't strike me as violent or crazed, like someone would have had to be in order to coldly shoot a lover between the eyes.
That's not to say I thought he had any redeeming qualities. He was bad news from head to toe. I just didn't think he was a murderer.
~*~
Chang and I were escorted into Khushrenada's office, which was bigger than my entire apartment. And Wufei's. Combined.
I saw my partner's head turn as he looked all around the huge place, mouth slightly agape.
"Lovely view," I said wryly, noticing the row of floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall.
"Why thank you," came a smooth, cultured voice. The tall chair behind the mahogany desk turned and an aristocratic-looking man stood up.
"Mister Khushrenada?" I guessed.
He inclined his head politely, gesturing us to seats opposite him. "And you are?"
"Detective Yuy, and Detective Chang," I told him, indicating first myself and then my partner. And since that aforementioned "partner" was still looking a bit bemused by the luxurious surroundings, I went ahead with the interview, in spite of Captain Po's instructions. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."
He nodded agreeably. "I'm always happy to cooperate with the authorities," he said with a flash of white teeth.
He stood up, walking over to a liquor cabinet and picking up what looked like a bottle of very expensive cognac. "Could I offer you a drink?"
"We're on duty," Chang said stiffly.
"Thanks anyway," I added, gritting my teeth slightly. The wealthy man was beginning to grate on my nerves with his smooth manners and forced civility.
"Suit yourselves," he said with a shrug, pouring himself a glass and returning to his seat. "Now how may I help you gentlemen?"
"Could you tell us the nature of your relationship with Zechs Merquise?" I asked bluntly.
"Ah. I see what this is about," he said in realization. "Zechs and I were business associates. He oversaw several of my enterprises, as well as a few of his own."
"Did that make you his boss or his partner?"
"Hm--a combination of the two?" he suggested. "But in reality, I was more his boss than anything else."
"Do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead?"
"He had some enemies," came the non-answer. "Just as I do."
"Can you name them?"
"Rival club owners--disgruntled business associates--perhaps an angry lover or two?" Khushrenada shrugged elaborately. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know them by name. I just know what little he confided to me about his--difficulties."
"I see. Can you remember your whereabouts on the night he died?"
"I believe I worked very late," he said with a weary sigh. "My assistant Une could vouch for that."
"Exactly how late?" I pressed.
"I don't think I left the office much before midnight--maybe even one."
And Merquise's time of death had been narrowed down to twelve-thirty. How very convenient.
The tall man stood up, walking over to stand at one of his big windows, looking out across the city. "Am I safe in assuming you've no suspects at this juncture?"
"On the contrary," I said smoothly. "We've got many. Too many. We'd like to narrow the field a bit."
"Well, feel free to cross my name off your list," he said graciously.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to do that," I replied, less graciously. "You have only the word of your assistant that you worked late that night?"
"Miss Une is completely reliable," he shrugged, seeming not at all offended by my refusal to drop him as a suspect. "If you'd like, you may see her on your way out. Her office is just to the left of my receptionist's."
"We'll certainly stop there," Chang assured him, darting me a wary look. I could tell he wanted to believe the smooth, cultured man we were interviewing. And even more to the point, he didn't want me to offend him.
"Then, are we finished, gentlemen?"
"For now," I cautioned.
He turned and fixed a look on me that made my muscles tense. On the surface, it appeared benign--he wore a faint smile. But it didn't reach the cold eyes, which studied me with nothing less than malice. "You're a stubborn man, Mister Yuy."
"So I've been told."
His eyes narrowed. "That can be--unhealthy," he added.
A threat? I didn't think he'd be foolish enough to threaten me.
"Stubbornness is akin to obsession," he continued with the same smooth tone. "And obsession can make you blind to the truth."
"Or it can lead you to it," I growled back. "And rest assured, we'll get to the truth of this case, Mister Khushrenada."
"Justice will be served," Chang agreed, apparently sensing the same challenge I had.
We took our leave of the posh office, stepping out into the hallway to find a woman waiting for us by the receptionist's desk. "I'm Miss Une--Mister Khushrenada buzzed me and said you'd like a word with me."
Well he didn't miss a trick. I studied the woman carefully. She wore her hair in a tight bun, and thick glasses on a lean, spinster-like face. But there was a gleam of intelligence in her dark eyes that made alarms go off in my head. She was much too smart for an administrative assistant. Either Khushrenada lied about the scope of her duties, or she was the most overqualified assistant I'd ever seen.
"How long have you worked for Mister Khushrenada?" Chang asked without preamble, pulling out his note pad and scribbling away.
"Four--no, five years."
"And can you tell us where he was the night of the tenth?"
"Here," she said smoothly. "We had a big account meeting coming up, and he stayed late and kept me with him to help."
"How late?" I asked.
"It was nearly one in the morning before we closed up and left. You could check with his driver, if you'd like." She held out a slip of paper with a name and number on it.
I had no doubt every one of Khushrenada's employees had been thoroughly coached on what to say regarding his whereabouts that night. We weren't going to find a damned thing out this way.
As we left, having gleaned what meager information we could from Khushrenada and his devoted assistant, Chang blew out a breath of frustrated air. "This is a dead-end, Yuy. We'll never get one of his employees to roll on Khushrenada."
"Obviously," I sighed in agreement, feeling the dull weight of defeat in the pit of my stomach. "Besides, what would an employee tell us? That Khushrenada supervised the murder in person? He might very well have been right here in his office when Zechs died. That doesn't mean he didn't order it to happen."
"More to the point," he added. "Assuming we can get Maxwell to testify, and that he puts Khushrenada or one of his people at the scene of the crime, do you think a jury would believe him over Khushrenada and his employees?"
Tough call. Would a jury believe a smooth, eloquent liar, or a crude, streetwise, but straightforward punk? I knew who I'd listen to.
"Maxwell's not smooth or tactful," I admitted. "But you can tell when he's being honest as opposed to evasive."
"Yes," Chang agreed. "Generally his honesty seems to be preceded by the f-word."
"Yeah, and followed by it--and accented in the middle by it--" I managed a grin for the first time that day, albeit a rueful one.
~*~
When Chang and I got back to the precinct, there were literally reams of evidence waiting for us. The DNA results had come back, and although we didn't yet have the results on Maxwell's to match it with, we knew Zechs' bedmate had been a guy. We could easily get a search warrant for Maxwell's apartment based on the facts at hand--there wasn't a judge in the world who'd deny us.
But I still held on to the firm conviction that Maxwell was a better witness than suspect. And as I examined the forensic reports, I was looking for clues that would implicate Khushrenada's people, rather than Maxwell.
"Chang...I've got DNA results here for female hair samples at Merquise's place."
"Female? Where was that found?"
"Near the entrance." I frowned at the page. "Female hair sample, brunette, several inches...and there's a blonde one, shorter, and not matching the first." I looked up with a scowl.
Chang looked dubiously at me. "Jenkins is a blonde--from the coroner's office."
Oh. Right. Before I got excited, we'd have to cross-check the DNA results with those on file for the forensics people, our people, and the coroner's crew. Fuck.
"Where's the cross-check report?" I growled, shuffling through the papers. "Look! There are pages missing, Chang!"
He came to look over my shoulder. "Hm. So there are," he sighed. "In fact, all of the inter-departmental cross-references are missing...fingerprints, DNA, shoeprints..."
"Damn it--those are supposed to be automatic!" I groused. "Do we have to tell the whole fucking crew how to do their jobs?"
"Apparently."
"I'll take a walk down and see what they've got to say for themselves." I was spoiling for a fight by then, having been chewed out by our boss, stonewalled by Khushrenada and his people, and now deprived of vital information by our own lab crew.
When I rapped on the door and walked into the office, the clerk at the desk looked up in surprise. He even had the brains to look intimidated as I stared him down.
"Um, it's a little early for the results on that suspect you had in last night," he said carefully.
"No shit," I growled. "I'm more concerned with the missing cross-references in the stuff you've already sent up."
"Missing--?" He shook his head. "I know they're in there, Detective Yuy. I printed them up myself...over twenty pages of comparisons and cross-checks."
"Then where are they?" I stormed, banging a fist on the desk. "We haven't got time for screw-ups!"
"Nobody here screwed anything up," he said heatedly, scowling back at me. "I sent Miss Peacecraft up with a whole box of shit. It was all in there. Maybe you and your partner need to look through it a little more carefully!"
"And maybe you people down here need to get your heads out of your asses," I countered.
His supervisor had heard our altercation by now, and wandered out of his office. "What seems to be the problem, detective?"
"The report your people sent up was missing all the cross-reference material," I told him icily. "Chang and I both looked for it. It's not in there. And with at least two female hair samples in the mix, I need to be able to rule out our crews before I can proceed with the investigation."
He glanced at his clerk, who shook his head. "I swear, it all got printed up and hand-carried by Relena, sir."
"Well, print it again," he said in a conciliatory tone. He glanced warily at me, and I couldn't tell if he believed me or his own employee. "I'll bring it up myself, Yuy. Give us half an hour?"
While I still wanted to punch a wall--or someone--I held my temper in check and gave a curt nod. "The sooner the better," I said gruffly, turning and stalking out of the office.
I took the stairs instead of the elevator, quite sure I needed the exercise to let out a little tension, and as I came out the door onto our floor, I nearly bumped into Relena.
"Heero!" She gave a little, flustered smile. "Where have you been?"
"Down in the lab chewing out the incompetent idiots who forgot the cross-references in the forensics reports on the Merquise case," I snarled.
Her eyes widened. "Oh. What a shame. Could I be of any help? Maybe I can go down there to wait for them."
"No, it's fine. Powers is bringing them up later." As I started down the hallway, she fell in step with me.
"Um, Heero, I was wondering if you might get finished early enough tonight to maybe come to a movie...or something?"
I shook my head. "Honestly, Relena, Chang and I are likely to be on this case at all kinds of hours. A lot of the people involved are, well, night owls. Merquise's clubs aren't open during the morning hours, so all our interviews have to be done evenings or nights."
"But if all you have to do tonight is read forensics reports, surely you could slip out for a decent meal," she persisted. "My treat?"
I sighed, resisting the urge to tell her to fuck off. "Look, Relena, this is just not the time for socializing. This case is too important, and my time is too precious."
We'd reached the office by then, and I noticed Wufei's gaze slide to Relena as she walked in with me. But after a quick nod of greeting, he gestured to the pile of papers on the desk. "Yuy, I've been through them twice. There are a lot more fingerprints and samples listed than we have results on."
"They're printing up fresh copies," I told him. "Powers is bringing them up personally. I'm especially interested in finding out who the female hair samples belonged to. Jenkins may be a blonde, but Une was a brunette--and I have a feeling she's in this at least as deep as Khushrenada."
Relena lingered in the doorway for a moment, and then shifted uneasily and turned and left.
Wufei cast a puzzled look after her. "She left in a bit of a hurry," he noted.
"Good," I muttered. "I could have done without her invitation to dinner and a movie."
"You didn't insult her, did you?" he asked reproachfully. "She seemed flustered just now."
"Of course I didn't," I scoffed. "Her father is my boss' boss." I began stacking reports according to which facet of the investigation they pertained to. "Besides, I know enough that if I can't be kind, I can at least be vague."
"I don't see why you can't just give her a chance," he mumbled, almost to himself. "She's smart, pretty, well-connected..."
And female.
"You want to keep your mind on work, please?" I asked testily.
He shot me a glare and resumed shuffling through his pile of papers.
Not five minutes later, Relena reappeared in the doorway, giving me a warm smile before gesturing to the front desk. "There's a man who says he needs to talk to you or Chang. He wouldn't say a word to anyone else."
I shot to my feet, wondering if Maxwell had finally come to his senses. "Does he have long hair? In a braid?"
She looked a bit confused, and frowned. "No--actually he's nearly bald--an older gentleman."
Chang looked over at me, apparently having thought the same thing, and we exchanged disappointed scowls.
"I'll see who it is," I sighed, getting up and following Relena.
She glanced questioningly at me as we headed down the hall. "I heard a rumor from the guys in booking that you had a suspect in the Merquise case."
"Suspect--witness--we aren't exactly sure," I shrugged. "I was hoping that's who was at the front desk, actually."
"Oh--a guy with a braid?"
A braid, a tattoo, and an attitude as foul as his mouth.
I nodded. "We think he might've seen something that would help with the investigation," I told her vaguely.
It wasn't that I didn't trust Relena, but sharing the details of a case with anyone other than my partner or my boss was not in my nature.
"Well, I hope he does show up," she said helpfully.
"Me too," I sighed, opening the door at the end of the hall, and heading for the main desk. When I saw the chunky man hovering in a corner of the waiting room, I frowned. "Mueller?"
The pawn broker glanced nervously around and sidled over to me. "Can we talk somewhere, Yuy? I've got news you're gonna want to hear."
"Better be worth it," I warned, ushering him into the hallway. I nodded to Relena. "Thanks for letting me know he was here."
"Sure." She gave a disappointed sigh and headed back towards the file room.
"All right, Mueller. Spill it." I suggested, leaning against the wall.
"You've got trouble, Yuy. Word got out that you found a witness to Merquise's murder. Now there's a rumor that someone--naming no names--is willing to pay top dollar to see a fellow called Duo Maxwell six feet under."
"Fuck!" I wanted to slap my palm to my forehead in the universal gesture of frustration. Why in Hell had I let Maxwell walk out of that interrogation room?
"Yeah, 'fuck.' You should hear what they're willing to pay."
"And that is--?"
He rubbed at a stubbly cheek. "What's it worth to you?"
"It's worth forgetting how much stolen merchandise is probably gathering dust on your shelves right now," I snarled.
"But I spent thirty bucks on a cab to get down here," he grumbled.
I reached out and took his shirt front in a choking grip. "I've had a really bad day, Mueller. This is not the time to jerk me around!"
"So far the price is a hundred grand on your boy's head," he told me grudgingly. "You got him locked up somewhere safe?"
I was about to blurt out "Hell no!" when common sense kicked in and I saw the hungry glimmer in Mueller's eyes. "That's not your problem," I said instead. "And I'm not confirming or denying that we have a witness."
"You don't have to," he chuckled. "Your reaction to the news said it all. You've got one, and it's Maxwell. The only question is, can you keep him alive long enough to testify?"
At that moment Wufei came pelting down the hall, tossing my coat into my arms. "C'mon, Yuy! We've got to get down to Sisters of Mercy Hospital. A car bomb just went off outside Winner's office and I'll give you three guesses as to who was probably in it!"
"Fuck!" I shoved Mueller back. "Too little, too late, shithead!" I growled. "You should've called me instead of coming here and trying to shake me down."
He shrugged, actually looking a little unhappy. "Sorry, Yuy, I swear. I just wanted to bring the news in person. You never know who might hear you making a phone call."
"Goddamn Khushrenada," I muttered under my breath as I turned away from Mueller and set off after Chang, reasonably certain we'd just lost our only lead in the case.
TBC...
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