Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.
'The Museum' is a short story set in my Ghost Detective universe set during the last days of 'The Junkyard' while Duo and Heero are still out of town, and at the beginning of 'The Piano'. Hope you enjoy!
Happy Halloween!
The Museum
Chapter 1
In the passenger seat beside him, Milliardo was finishing up his phone call just as Treize Khushrenada passed the Browers Museum.
"So, where is everyone?"
"Little coffee shop just around the corner," his lover explained as he slipped the phone into his pocket. "Turn right at the light."
The 'gang' had agreed to meet near the museum for a drink or a bite to eat, before heading to the opening celebration of the new Egyptian exhibition.
At the moment, though, it remained to be seen if there even was going to be a celebration or an exhibition for that matter. Milliardo first had learned about the break-in at the museum from his sister, but by the time he had called Treize the professor had already heard about it through Wufei who had been watching the morning news.
After a short conference call it had been decided to stick with their original plan and see what would happen. If nothing else they could always go catch a movie at the new theater down the block.
"I believe, this is your stop," the professor announced pulling up in front of the coffee shop. "I will see you guys in a bit."
Milliardo nodded as he pushed open the car door. He reached over his seat into the back for his backpack which held his camera, a bottle of water and most importantly Octavian's diary.
"See you." He told his lover and then as he slipped out of the passenger seat: "Let's go, Alexander."
Once ghost and man had exited the car, Treize backed up and pulled back into the traffic lane. There was a large monitored paid-parking lot in the back of the museum. One of the perks of becoming a patron of the arts at the Browers, was a lifetime parking pass. So why not take advantage of it, the professor figured.
The parking area was pretty empty at this time of the day; aside from about half a dozen law enforcement vehicles. As he locked his BMW, Treize noticed Sheriff Bonaparte crossing the lot, probably on his way to his own car.
"Good day, Sheriff!" He called out to the man.
Bonaparte held his step and turned. "Oh, Professor Khushrenada. A good day to you, too. What brings you here?"
##
"Where is Treize?" Trowa wanted to know when Milliardo approached the table he and his friends were sitting at.
"Parking the car," the other man explained. "He should be here soon."
As he settled down next to Quatre, Milliardo waved for the waitress.
"So, what did they say?" he asked directed at Wufei, who had volunteered to call the museum and get the latest news.
"There will be no grand opening, at least not today."
"That's too bad."
"Yes, but at least the museum will be open this afternoon, excluding the wing where the break-in occurred. That one, of course is still closed off by the police."
When the waitress came over to their table Milliardo ordered iced mocha for Treize and a latte for himself along with one of the cafe's famous cheese and ham croissants.
"Could I have another espresso, too?" Quatre asked with a polite smile.
"Right away," the young woman nodded. "Anything else?"
"I guess I will have a refill on my iced tea." Wufei requested.
Once they were alone again Milliardo picked up their conversation from earlier. "I'm surprised they are opening at all today. One would think they don't want people running around until the police investigation is completed."
"I was wondering about that too. But the guy I talked to explained that they were expecting a great number of people for the grand opening ceremony, not only locals," Wufei explained. "They were afraid that many of them might not have heard the news or show up anyway. Rather than disappointing the crowd by turning them away they decided to open the museum at least partially.
"Makes sense." the blonde nodded. "By the way, did they tell you what exactly happened?"
"No, I'm afraid they were pretty tight lipped about that."
"I think I should be able to shed some light on that," Treize, who had walked up as though on cue, announced. "It's more than just a simple robbery, but quite possibly attempted murder from what I have been told."
"Murder?" Quatre echoed.
"How do you know?" Milliardo wanted to know.
"Got it straight from the horse's mouth, or more precisely Sheriff Bonaparte's mouth," the professor replied as he took the chair next to his lover. "I ran into him in the parking lot."
"Well then, what are you waiting for," Milliardo urged. "Tell us what happened."_
Just then the waitress returned with their orders and Treize decided to wait until she had left. He took a big sip from his iced drink and nodded in satisfaction. "Perfect," he announced.
"Come on!" His lover prodded him with his elbow. "You are not going to make us beg, are you?"
"Now there is a thought." Treize smirked. As he looked around everyone's eyes were fixed on him in silent curiosity. Even Alexander had moved closer. He could feel the ghost's present over his left shoulder.
"Apparently," he began. "Early this morning the museum's alarm was triggered, and a call-back from the security company monitoring the place didn't get any response. The police were called and two of their units dispatched. When they arrived they were unable to raise the night security guard on duty, and when they checked the premises from the outside, they found a broken window leading to one of the back offices. The director, who had been called in, arrived at the same time with the access code for the front entrance. Once the doors were open a trail of blood led the police from the west wing where the museum's research facilities are located to the security room, where they found the night guard bleeding and seriously injured. He had been bludgeoned with something. It seems the poor man, alerted by the sound of the window breaking, went to investigate and was surprised by the intruder. Somehow he managed to make it back to the security room to trigger the alarm before he collapsed."
"Sounds about right," Quatre remarked and Milliardo nodded in agreement.
Only Trowa didn't seem to feel the same. "Sounds more like someone who is very new to the security business or rather poorly trained."
"What do you mean?" Quatre inquired.
"Well, think about it. There is only a single guard on duty. For him to leave his post to investigate without sounding an alarm or informing the police... In the company I work for one would get fired for doing something that foolish."
"Well, most security companies are not like the one you work for." Wufei pointed out. "More often than not they ARE poorly trained rent-a-cops trying to make a few extra bucks moonlighting as night watchmen."
"Still," Trowa insisted. "He should have known better."
"Funny thing you would say that," Treize remarked. "Those were Sheriff Bonaparte's words exactly. You see, the guard was a retired police officer, apparently someone Bonaparte knew well and had worked with in the past. Not someone one would expect to make such a rookie mistake."
"What was stolen, by the way?" Milliardo wanted to know.
"Strangely enough the only item that seems to be missing is a Canopic jar. Not even a very valuable one from what I understand," the professor told him. " Why the thief, if he found the time to steal something, didn't go for any of the more valuable items in the room seems to baffle the police."
"Yes indeed, that could be a very good reason." Quatre nodded in the direction of their ghostly companion. And then directed at the rest of the group he explained. "Alexander assumes the crook might have thought the jar would be easier to sell than other, well known artifacts."
"Art thieves rarely plan on selling their items at the next pawnshop," Wufei once again pointed out the obvious. "Most of them are hired by a shady collector or crooked dealer to steal a certain item."
"Hmm..." Quatre gave a pensive sound. "Then you assume the thief was after that specific jar and it is worth killing for?"
"Actually, from what I understand the canopic jar was one of the pieces in the Egyptian exhibit and had only been unpacked the day before," Treize told his friends.
"Now, that would raise the question who could have known exactly what items would be send over from the Cairo museum," Milliardo mused. "Do you know if they mentioned any details in the paper, Wufei?"
"Not as far as I know," the young Chinese man replied. "It just spoke of a collection of artifacts from the 13th dynasty. And I don't remember reading anything more specific on the museum's website either. "
"Me neither," Quatre added. "I had actually checked to see if they had any artifacts from that new tomb they had been working on for the past few years. - May I have the sugar, please?"
The words had barely left the young man's lips when the little bowl, holding various packs of sugar and sugar substitutes, rose from the table and drifted toward him in mid-air.
Quickly Treize reached out to grab the bowl, passing it on to Quatre.
"Not in public, Alexander," he whispered as he looked around, making sure nobody in the cafe had noticed the incident.
"Anyway, what time is the museum opening?" Milliardo wanted to know.
The professor checked his watch. "Twelve minutes ago. Shall we finish up here and head over?" he suggested.
##
The lobby of the Brower's was crowded when the small group arrived. Apparently news about the break-in and postponement of the opening ceremony had not spread quickly enough.
Dr. Snyder the longstanding director of the museum was giving a short speech, explaining the situation and apologizing for the inconvenience. Most of the visitors were rather understanding, and although everyone seemed disappointed only a handful left angrily, while the others took advantage of the complementary tours of the native American and local history exhibits, offered by the director.
"So," Trowa asked after everyone was starting to file into the exhibition rooms. "Should we join one of the tours or go and explore on our own?"
"I'm not sure about you guys," Treize replied. "But I prefer to enjoy art without having someone breathing over my shoulder while someone else is standing on my toes. So I think I will pass on the tours."
"I couldn't agree more," Quatre nodded. "Emotions seem to be running a bit higher than usual at this place and with a crowd like this..."
He didn't have to finish the sentence. His friends knew what he meant. Milliardo gave the younger man a sympathetic look.
"You sure you are alright?"
"I'm fine, as long as I don't have to share the same small space with a hundred people. Besides I wouldn't mind checking out the "Treasures of the Silk Road" exhibit. I missed that one when I was in New York."
"Well then, how about splitting up and meeting here again in let's say..." Treize looked at his watch."...an hour and a half?"
Everyone agreed on that and the little group slowly dispersed.
At any given time the Browers hosted four permanent and - depending on the size- between 3 and 5 traveling exhibits. So there was surely something for everyone to enjoy.
"Where should we go first, Dear?" Treize looked questioningly at his lover.
"I believe that decision has already been made." Milliardo gave a little smirk, and the other man sighed when he too felt Alexander's aura moving toward the area of the museum housing a collection of Native American pottery and artifacts.
"Of course it has." Treize replied tongue in cheek. "What was I thinking?"
The two men followed their ghostly ancestor slowly.
"I wonder how much museums have changed since the last time he visited one?" The blonde mused and then with a quick look at Treize he added. "They did have museums when he was alive, didn't they?"
"Yes, of course they had. It's one of the curious aspects of mankind. We have always been very eager to learn about our past, without actually learning very much from it," the professor replied philosophically.
###
There was no police tape, just a few plain clothed officers keeping overly curious visitors away from areas in which the police was still working.
Having returned to the lobby early and ahead of everyone else, Treize and Milliardo settled down at the large fountain near the entrance to wait for the others.
A few moments later the blonde rose to his feet.
"Keep an eye on my backpack, will you?" He asked his lover. "I'll be right back."
As the young man headed toward the restrooms, Treize pulled out one of the brochures he had picked up at the entrance and started to read the article about the Egypt exhibit. Or at least that's what he was planning on doing, but before he even finished the first paragraph something cold and wet splashed against the back of his neck.
The professor's head snapped around, assuming that one of his companions had sneaked up from behind. But there was nobody in sight, and yet he was splashed for a second time with a few drops of water from the fountain.
Shaking his head like a dog ,Treize's eyes narrowed slightly. "Keep it up, Alexander and I will lock you and that diary of yours in the trunk of my car, " he warned.
"Talking to oneself is never considered a good thing, or so I've been told?" Sheriff Bonaparte's voice was laced with amusement.
The tawny-haired man turned his head. "Ah, Sheriff. Still here I see."
"Yes, it's going to be a long day, I assume."
"I can imagine." Treize nodded thoughtfully. "Any new developments?"
"Not so far." The older man turned sober. "But then, criminals rarely leave their calling card. We will have to see what the boys in the lab can do with the evidence they collected. "
"What about the guard, did they update you on his condition?"
"Last I heard was that he came out of surgery alive. But it is touch and go. Difficult to say if and when he will wake up."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah well..." There was a moment of silence before Bonaparte changed the subject. "So, professor, are you enjoying the exhibition?"
"Very much so," Treize confirmed. "Although I'm sure it would have been even better if the Egyptian Hall would have been open. I had really been looking forward to that exhibit."
"I'm sure lots of people did," the sheriff agreed. "I have to admit I am not much of a history buff myself. But from what I understand the item that was stolen was some kind of jar used to hold organs or parts of a deceased. Why would anyone want to steal organs that old? They have to be nothing but dust by now, wouldn't you say, Professor?"
The other man shrugged. "I don't think it was the content of the jar the thief was after. The vessel itself however could be quite valuable depending on who it belonged to."
"I suppose," the sheriff mused. Just then Dr. Snyder, a lanky man with the complexion of someone who spent most of his days inside and dark hair that made him look even paler, hurried toward them.
"Sheriff Bonaparte," he addressed the older man, with an apologetic tone in his voice. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there is a phone call for you in my office "
"A phone call?!" the sheriff replied in his usual calm manner. "Oh by the way, Professor, this is Doctor Snyder, director of this museum. Doctor Snyder, meet Professor Khushrenada, a good friend of mine. He teaches history at St Marymount."
The two men exchanged polite nods and 'how-do-you-dos' before Snyder turned his attention back to the sheriff .
"Its the mayor. He said it was important. He tried to call you on your cell."
"I'm not sure what's wrong with my phone. Its been acting up all day. And I only bought this one a few weeks ago ."
"Its not your phone," Snyder assured him. "This building is a total dead zone. Even wireless comes and goes. Let me show you the way to my office ."
"Uh, yes of course. Please, excuse us." The sheriff nodded briefly at Treize before following the museum's director, just as Milliardo returned from the restroom.
"Was that the sheriff just now?"the young man wanted to know."
"Indeed."
"Anything new?" Milliardo wanted to know.
His lover shrugged. "Not much, aside from the fact that he just received a call from the mayor, and that whoever designed this building must have carried a deep grudge against modern telecommunication "
The younger man gave an amused chuckle. "I was referring to news about the break-in, but your knowledge of the most random and yet interesting facts always amazes me. "
"Well thank you, Dear. I shall consider that a compliment."
"It was meant as such. " Milliardo assured him "By the way, any sign of the others yet?"
"There they come now." Treize gestured toward their friends coming down from the gallery.
"Are we late?" Quatre greeted them as the trio approached. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not really. So, did you guys see what you wanted?"
"I suppose," Trowa replied. "It doesn't look like they will be opening the west wing any time soon there are still a lot of cops around."
"Well, I guess we will just have to come back some other day then." The professor shrugged. "Maybe by then Duo and Heero will be able to come along as well."
"Is anybody in a hurry to leave?" Wufei wanted to know . "Or do we still have time to check out the gift shop? They might have some books I am interested in."
Treize shook his head. "We don't have anywhere to be, do we Dear?"
"Not as far as I know," Milliardo replied. "But say, does anyone know where Alexander is?"
TBC
Author's Note: I can't believe it has been a year since I started working on Piano. I really haven't been doing much writing lately, have I? Hopefully this will change in the near future.