Chapter Four: Looker
"Now are you sure it's the same man who stole the red Gyarados three years ago?" Officer Jones asks me, looking sharply at me, as if trying to get to some truth that I don't even know about. Her bold, brown eyes narrow as she looks over the scratches on my face and arms. Her wild hair lies unkempt under a blue police cap, glowing blue in the presence of the red and blue flashing lights behind her.
"Yes, Ma'am," I say with as much confidence I can muster, which, admittedly, isn't a whole lot. "He even recognized me from when he killed my Eevee then."
"Did any Pokémon die this go-around?"
"No. Lucky I was there," Jess pipes in. I shoot her an accusing look, but she returns it with a reproachful one, causing me to turn away.
"But not lucky enough to identify all of his Pokémon?" Officer Jones stands back up and turns to Jess. Jones softly pats down her skirt, leaving it smooth and without a single crease.
"Just the Sneasel," Jess sighs, looking downcast.
"He called the giant bird a Mandibuzz. I don't think it was a nickname, because he didn't have one for his Sneasel," I say, getting up from the sitting position I was in.
"A Mandibuzz, you say?" Officer Jones pulls out a mechanical red device and clicks a couple buttons. The device emits a soft beeping as it whirs through various shapes of Pokémon.
"Is that a Pokédex, officer?" Jess asks.
"What, this? Yeah, sure is. It's not the kind of Pokédex that professors give to trainers or anything, just a quick field guide to the Pokémon here in Johto." With that, the beeping stops. The three of us look at the LCD, only to find a blank screen.
"Why is it blank?" I ask.
"Well, either the Pokémon doesn't exist, it's incredibly rare, or it doesn't live in Johto." She shuts the dex and puts it into her right breast pocket, winking at us. "I trust you two, so I'd assume it's the last of those options."
"Why is it so important that you identify where the Pokémon come from?"
"It'll help us know where the man came from, and possibly who he's working for. It's actually a pretty standard procedure. Hey Simons!"
"What's up?" perks up another officer over by the door of my house. Officer Jones motions for her to come over to our group. The officer nods, flips her equally dark and messy hair over her shoulder and trots over to us, followed by a rather large red-furred Growlithe.
"Jen, could you get a line out to either Professor Elm or Birch to help us identify where a 'Mandibuzz' would live."
"Sure thing, Jenny." Officer Simons gives a short salute, quickly turns, and trots back to the crime scene. Officer Jones turns back to Jess and me. "Due to the fact that your front door seems to be in three pieces, I would suggest you spend the night somewhere else. Do you have any place in mind?"
"He can stay at my house," Jess says raising her hand. "I mean, I'd have to ask, but I think, given the circumstances…" she smiles at me, her reproachful look from before just a memory. She takes a step over to me and places one hand on my shoulder and extends her other hand. In it is Eevee's Pokéball. "Try not to let anything happen to him on the way over. Can I leave, officer?"
Officer Jones nods, smiling. "I don't know where else we can go until morning, but if you told us all you know, you're free to go."
"Thanks," Jess says, bowing slightly. She turns to me. "Technically, I'll have to ask Mom, but I'll call you when she says yes." With that, she turns and jogs to her house a few blocks away.
"You got yourself a pretty good girlfriend there, young man."
"What? Oh, we aren't together, officer."
"Sure you aren't, kid. I'm done questioning you. Why don't you head inside and grab some clothes, if your room isn't part of the crime scene?"
"Thanks—"
"NOBODY WORRY, EVERYTHING IS OKAY NOW!" booms a loud voice from behind us. "THE INTERNATIONAL POLICE ARE HERE TO INTERVENE."
"Oh, for the love of Arceus," groans Officer Jones, rolling her eyes.
"Who's this?" I ask.
"You shouldn't worry about—"
"That's right, you should not worry about a thing anymore!" Without warning, a man in a long tan trenchcoat appears. He's tall and lanky. His dark black hair is graying on the sides, and despite the wrinkles around his sharp black eyes, he still looks like a young man. He stands a little too straight and his chin is home to a very pronounced frown that does not seem to move, even when he speaks. With an over-exaggerated wave of his left hand, he motions at Officer Jones. "You! Jenny Jones! I hope you are ready for the night off! Do you want to know why?"
A moment of silence goes by as Jenny slowly closes her eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead takes in another deep breath. When she speaks, her voice is calm, but strained, as if she's an inch away from yelling.
"Is it because I'm getting the night—"
"It is because you are getting the night off! You are indeed lucky. I would wish for a night off, but it is a fact that members of the international police are not granted such childish luxuries."
"Uh, who are you?" I ask.
"Why, my good man, I go byOH GOOD GOODNESS I MUST HAVE EXPERIENCED SOME TIME TRAVEL AS I TRAVELED. Pardon me, you look just like your father, young man."
"You know my dad?"
"I know many people, for I am a member of the international police."
"I…I can tell you are. But who are you?"
"My dear boy, I am…" he begins, but stops, looking down at me, then to Officer Jones, and then to the rest of the Mahogany police force, who by this point have stopped all their duties and are watching the man in the trenchcoat. Suddenly, his frown somehow inexplicably intensifies and he brings his hand up, sticking his chin in between his thumb and index finger.
"My dear boy, it seems that there are spies among us."
"Those are the police—"
"These spies could endanger your very life if you are not careful. Boy! I need three minutes of your time. Just three minutes."
"Okay—"
"Okay, maybe ten. Probably twenty."
"What?"
"Officer Jones, may I borrow this young boy for a mere forty five minutes? I promise to return him in pristine condition to your care. If not, I will again remind you that I am a member of the international police and that my policies are more important than yours."
Officer Jones is at a complete loss for words, like everyone else except this strange man. She just opens her mouth, shakes her head slightly, blinks a couple times, and after a few seconds, breathes a barely audible "Yes."
"Excellent! Now come along, my good lad. We cannot be seen. Inconspicuous is the name of the game!"
"I think we are away from prying ears now."
"We've been walking for fifteen minutes."
"You have excellent knowledge of time."
"Who are you?"
The man's frown recedes for a mere second as he almost chuckles. "Persistance is a trait most enjoyed by us in the international police."
"I'm really starting to get sick of this."
"Fine! I will tell you my name—NO. Not my name. My name is my secret. I will tell you my codename. Much harder to trace. My codename is Looker."
"Well, alright, Looker, why are you here?"
"That's classified information you're looking for."
"Right. Okay, um, why is the kidnapping of my mother a matter for the international police? Is the thug responsible wanted worldwide?"
"Whoa, slow down, young man. Who told you I was a member of the international police?" His eyes widen and his hand went to his chin again, as if he was studying me carefully. I stop walking and turn, looking at him. "Oh, I suppose I did. Oops." He continues walking on ahead, as if nothing ever happened, but I've had enough.
"What about what happened to my mother?"
"She got kidnapped."
"I know that. Why?"
"I can only imagine that she has been taken in an attempt to bribe your father to do something."
"My father? What does my father have to do with any of this?"
Looker turns and frowns at me. "In all of my forty years in this service, I have never met such a naïve individual."
"Have you tried a mirror?"
"What?"
"Nothing. As you said, I'm naïve. What does my father have to do with anything?"
Looker's frown grows. He leans in toward me, so that our noses are nearly touching. His eyes narrow and with one piercing glare, it feels as if his very irises are pulling my eyes out of their skull. They quickly widen and he pulls back in surprise. He is so shocked at the apparent truth in my eyes that he actually falls over.
"What…what is it?"
"It's so simple, how could I have not seen it before?" He says, still frowning despite a clearly excited tone of voice. He picks himself up off the ground and returns his hand to his chin. "You, obviously, were not told of your heritage. To protect you, without a doubt."
"What do you mean?"
"I do not know how you have not figured it out, but then again, few are as smart as the members of the international police. Young man, do you know who your father is?"
I look at him closely. This time it is my turn to narrow my eyes, trying to figure out the angle that Looker is coming from. But I can't read him, so I drop my shoulders and then raise them again in a shrug. "I know his name is Ethan Walker. He does a lot of business transactions for Professor Elm's Research, or something like that—he doesn't really tell me about his work. He used to be a Pokémon Trainer, but he never had more than five badges to his name. He married my mom, who worked in a Pokémart out in Goldenrod. She came from a family with no ties to any criminals whatsoever. They moved to Mahogany town because they wanted a quiet place to raise their son, me. And that's basically my father in a nutshell. What could he have been doing to get into this kind of trouble?"
"Business…five badges…are you sure that is you describing your father?" Looker asks, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
"As far as I know, yeah."
"Goodness," Looker mutters, looking down. He somehow manages to push his hand further into his chin. "I am terribly sorry to have to say this…"
"Say what?" I say. I don't get it. Has my father been living a double life behind my back? Why was he so nervous when his phone rang at the diner earlier? Why was mom kidnapped, and was she used as bait to get to him? Who could want my father so badly, and why were they going through such lengths?
Looker doesn't say anything; he just shakes his head. He's clearly shaken, but I prompt him with the question one more time and he instantly perks up.
"My dear boy, it seems that I was given the wrong address. It wouldn't be the first time I have. I'm getting along in years and these things happen. I mustn't be too hard on yourself, as the job of being an International Policeman is stressful enough. Now could you kindly direct me to where another kidnapping might have taken place in your city?"
He leans in toward me again, but I can't even make a word. I just drop my jaw and stare at him.
"Ah, I feared you would not be able to help. Do not worry. I hope your mother comes back soon. Until we meet again, good boy. I must be off!" And with that, Looker dashed off into the night, leaving me alone with a view of my father that wasn't quite as clear as it was earlier.