There was chaos back at the precinct as news of Loose & Lanky's abduction spread. The Good Detective, his head wrapped in bandages, was frantically pacing back and forth, wringing his hands as Lynne tried to calm him.
"They want him alive for now, we're sure of it," Lynne said.
"That idiot," the Good Detective growled. "Why'd he have to go and do that?"
"Maybe because he knew he'd never be able to face Alma and Kamila if he didn't?" Lynne replied.
The Good Detective sighed and slumped into his chair, "I can't believe this; the Twister can possess the living! It was bad enough with him just killing people, but now-!"
"You sound like you've seen this before," said Lynne.
"In the other timeline, yes," I told Lynne. "There was a ghost with that ability, but they don't have it anymore."
"Do they still have their memory?" asked Lynne. "Maybe they can help us."
"I doubt it," I lied. "Besides, even if they did I don't see how they could help."
"I suppose you're right," muttered Lynne. "It's just the mood is so desperate right now, if we had something, anything." She turned to the Good Detective. "Maybe we could question that phoney scientist again."
"Worth a try," muttered the Good Detective, getting up from his chair. "We should talk to Ridge and Memry."
The Bereted Investigator and the Freckle-Faced Cutie having coffee when Lynne and the Good Detective found them.
"Jowd, Lynne," the Bereted Investigator placed his coffee down and rushed towards us. "I heard about Cabanela, are you two ok?"
"I'm alive, thank the Gods," the Good Detective replied. "But Ridge, you know that guy that was caught snooping around the restricted area of the lab?"
The Bereted Investigator and the Freckle-Faced Cutie exchanged nervous glances.
"Yeah…" answered the Cutie, "what about him?"
"We need to talk to him," said Lynne. "We think he might have been working with whoever snatched Cabanela."
The Bereted Investigator hid his face in his hand and the Freckle-Faced Cutie gave a groan.
"We're sorry," said the Bereted Investigator. "But that's just not possible."
"What? Why not?" asked the Good Detective.
"He skipped bail," groaned the Cutie. "Fifty thousand dollars, would you believe it?"
"Bail!" Lynne was livid. "That guy infiltrated high-security lock-down, how the hell did he get bail?"
"We're heading to the Justice Minister's office after our coffee break to ask him just that," replied the Bereted Investigator. "The Chief nearly went through the roof when he found out."
"We're so sorry," said the Cutie sympathetically. "We're all worried about Cabanela, but we know how tight you three are, so…"
"It's ok," groaned the Good Detective. "Thanks for your help, anyway."
"We'll let you know if we find anything," the Bereted Investigator said reassuringly. "Good luck, with everything."
As he and the Cutie walked off, Lynne went up to the nearest wall and started banging her head against it.
"Hey, hey!" the Good Detective grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. "We can't help Cabanela if we both have concussions!
"I don't know if I can take much more of this," wailed Lynne. "I never knew when I joined the force that I'd have to deal with magic meteorites and soul-eating ghosts!"
Lynne's breakdown was interrupted by the Detective in Green popping his head around a cubicle wall, "Um, Jowd?"
The Good Detective let go of Lynne and turned to face him, "Yes?"
"We've been interviewing the witnesses from the market square incident and, well…" he adjusted his glasses anxiously. "There's a problem. You'd better to come with me."
The Detective in Green took us out to the reception area, where the Detective in Blue was in a heated argument with our favourite reporter.
"You dirty rotten, scummy…! Jowd's one of the finest men we've ever had on the force!"
"Hey, squinty, I know what I saw. Your 'force's finest' was working with those blue guys who shot up the place."
"Who're you callin' squinty?"
"Hey, break it up!" Lynne rushed over and put herself between the two. "Frank," she turned to the Detective in Blue, "go get a coffee and cool your head, I'll handle this joker." The Blue and Green detectives left, and Lynne turned to Scrawny, "What do you want?"
"Answers," Scrany replied. "I was there, you know. I saw old fuzz-face working with those trigger-happy Blue Meanies."
The Good Detective tried to keep calm, "It's not what you think. I was coerced into helping those crooks."
"Yeah, right!" Scrawny scoffed. "It was obvious that you were calling the shots, you knew what you were doing and you were fine with it."
This was bad. In the other timeline, the Good Detective had served time for a crime that was not his doing and now it was happening all over again. I had to intervene.
"Your name is Reynard, right?" I asked him as I touched his core.
Scrawny gave me a quick once over, "Well, if it ain't the lucky black cat himself. As much as I'd love to chat, I'm kinda busy right now."
"Then you should listen to what I have to say," I replied. "I know to you it seemed as if Jowd was in league with the blue-skinned assassins, and I can't blame you for believing that."
"I know what I saw, Puss-in-Boots."
"I know, but you didn't see everything. Not as the dead would see it, anyway."
"Oh?"
"You want in on the Twister case, right?" I continued. "Well, I'm about to give it to you."
Scrawny narrowed his eyes and tilted back his head, "Go on."
"I'll tell you everything we know about the Twister," I said, "but in return, I want you to stay away from Jowd's family, I want you to stay away from that couple who got the head in the mail, and I want you to withdraw your claim that Jowd was working with the assassins willingly."
Scrawny folded his arms with a confident swagger, "Depends if I like what I hear."
So I told him everything, about the Temsik meteorite and its strange powers, about the powers it had granted me, and to the Twister. I told him about the awful way the Twister used these powers, about his corrupt soul and how it had been controlling the Good Detective back at the market square. But I could tell that Scrawny was having a hard time buying it.
"You're kidding me, right?" Scrawny said finally. "You're telling me that the Twister is some kind of psychic zombie?"
"I know it's hard to believe," I replied, "but surely the existence of ghosts like your father and I…"
"Get real!" snarled Scrawny. "Look here ghost kitty; I think you're just feeding me a load of BS so your beloved master can get off with a slap on the wrist. Well I ain't buying it!"
"Hasn't your father told him about his own encounter?" I asked him. "He saw the Twister kill the Temsik Park victim. You can ask him."
"Well, I should check on him," muttered Scrawny. "He hasn't made a peep since the hoo-hah at the market."
"I'll get him," I said, reaching for Toon-Face's flame inside the camera.
But as soon as I went into that camera, it was obvious that something was very, very wrong. Toon-Face was cowering in a corner, curled into a ball and muttering to himself incoherently.
"Dad?" said Scrawny with some concern. "Dad, what is it? What's wrong?"
Toon-Face turned to us, revealing the scratches across his blank white eyes.
"It's all lies…" he whimpered. "It wasn't my fault… I don't know him…"
"Dad!" Scrawny hollered in alarm. "What's happened to you?" He turned on me in a fury. "You! What the hell did you do to him!"
"No!" I replied hurriedly. "I didn't do this, he was like this before when I was trying to find out about the Twister from him, and-!"
But Scrawny was in no mood to listen. "Get away from me!" he yelled. "I can't trust you, any of you!"
I decided not to press the two of them any further, and withdrew from Scrawny's core.
"Screw you all!" Scrawny rounded on Lynne and the Good Detective. "You think you and your magic black cat can stop me? I'm gonna expose you filthy pigs for what you are and then you'll be sorry!"
"Hey, steady!" Lynne was taken aback. "What's with all the 'filthy pigs' all of a sudden?"
"I'll never trust a cop!" Scrawny snarled. "You're all the same!" and with that, he stormed out the door.
I had tried to diffuse the situation, maybe even get Scrawny on our side, but I had just made things worse. And Toon-Face; what had set him off? I was sure he knew much more about the Twister than he cared to admit, but getting it out of him was going to be a challenge.
"Lynne, I'm so sorry," is said to her. "This is all my fault – I tried to tell Reynard what really happened, but he wouldn't believe me!"
"You told him everything?"
"Yeah, even about the meteorite…"
"Well, if it's any consolation," said she, "it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. There must've been hundreds of people at the square today who saw what happened."
"But that means… Jowd will…!"
"Until we catch the Twister, we have no way of clearing Jowd's name," Lynne told me. "We just need to be patient."
I returned to the world of the living, burning with frustration. Lynne explained everything to the Good Detective as we made our back to the offices.
"So, what now?" Lynne asked when she had finished.
"We wait," the Good Detective replied.
Well, waited for about an hour or so. I absolutely hated it. I was so used to doing things, being able to use my ghost tricks in a way to help people. Waiting around just reminded me how helpless we all were in our current situation.
Finally, an officer came up to us and from the looks of him he had something important to tell us. "There's a phone call for you, detectives," he said as he handed Lynne the receiver. "It's him."
Lynne put the call on speaker. The mood was tense as the Good Detective spoke.
"Detective Jowd here," he said stiffly. "Who is this?
I jumped into the phone so I could get a trace on a location. I had half-hoped that it would be one of the blue-skinned foreigners on the line, but I had no such luck. I could see the Twister in his bloodstained mask at the other end of the phone, behind him were Beauty and her short-statured cohort sitting on either side of a bound and gagged Loose & Lanky. Well at least he was alive for now.
"So," said the Twister with a smug air "you still have your job then, Detective Jowd? I would've thought that giving assistance to spies would have you locked in prison by now."
The Good Detective gritted his teeth, "What do you want?"
"Well, to put it more accurately, it's what my associates want," the Twister replied. "As you have probably realised by now, they're very interested in the powers of the Temsik meteorite. However, I'm loathe to the idea of giving up the piece inside my own body, for reasons with I'm sure are obvious to you."
This piece of information was very worrying. Yomiel had been desperate to get rid of the Temsik fragment inside of him, a desire that had finally convinced him to work together with Missile, the Good Detective and I to change the past and free him of that fate. I had considered the possibility that the Twister was enjoying himself too much for me to do likewise with him, and now he had confirmed just that.
"So you see, Detective," the Twister continued, "if you really wish to see Inspector Cabanela alive and in one piece ever again, my associates must have the meteorite. All of it."
"Hold it right there," the Good Detective growled. "I want proof that Cabanela is alive first."
"Your ghostly little friend hiding in your phone can see him just fine," the Twister snorted. "Yes; I know you're there, my little friend. Planning to come visit me now, are you?"
I felt cold as the Twister addressed me directly.
"I do hope you'll come and pay me a visit," gloated the Twister. "I've set up the most wonderful little game for us to play…"
"That's enough!" snarled Lynne. "We want to speak with Cabanela, now!"
The Twister gave a sigh, "Very well, if you insist."
He took the receiver towards Loose & Lanky as Beauty's cohort pulled the gag off his mouth.
"Jowd, Lynne! Don't do it!" Loose & Lanky hollered. "Don't give this scumbag the satisfaction of -argh!"
A swift kick to the head from the Twister sent Loose & Lanky crumpling to the floor.
"Yeesh, wasn't that kinda excessive?" I heard Beauty's cohort mutter.
"There's a nice little junkyard at the edge of town," said the Twister into the phone. "We'll be waiting for you. And don't try anything smart, or I will kill him, and your little ghost won't be able to bring him back, I promise you that. Oh, and speaking of which," the Twister seemed especially gleeful, "still having trouble finding your lost memories, my friend? Just be aware that you may not like what you find."
And with that, the Twister hung up the phone.
"That's odd," Lynne mused as she turned to the Good Detective. "The Twister seems to be under the impression that Sissel is someone else."
"He could be referring to Reynard's father," said the Good Detective. "That is, if the Twister did kill him like Reynard believes."
"We have to look it up," replied Lynne. "But not right now. Right now, we have to figure out how to save Cabanela and keep the meteorite from falling into the hands of the Twister and his allies."
"I'll go on ahead," I told Lynne. "If the Twister's set any traps for you, I can use my ghost tricks to get rid of them."
Lynne didn't seem very happy about this proposal, "Are you sure? What if the Twister tries to eat you?"
"I don't think he plans on doing that just yet," I replied. "All of this seems to be a game for him, so he wants us to stick around just so he can amuse himself."
"Kinda like how a cat will toy with a mouse?"
"Not funny."
"Sorry, it just came out," said Lynne with a sheepish smile. "But seriously, take care of yourself."
"I will."
"And there's no shame in making a run for it if things get nasty!"
"I'll be careful, I promise," I possessed the phone and brought up the number.
I hesitated as saw my destination on the other end of the line. I had believed that the Temsik fragment inside my body had made me invincible, that nothing could ever hurt me. Now I had met an enemy who was as every bit a threat to the dead as he was to the living. For the first time in a long time, I feared for my own safety. But what could I do – run away? No, that was out of the question. If I abandoned Loose & Lanky, and to that extent Lynne and the others, to such an awful fate I would never be able to forgive myself.
"Wish me luck," I called to Lynne as I took off down the phone line. I was going to need it.
The junkyard – this was where that Fateful Night had started over a year ago. Loose & Lanky had been a hostage here back then as well, although it has been Yomiel causing the trouble back then. Of course, he had long since repented for his crimes.
But this wasn't the time to be reminiscing, I had to clear away any traps, and perhaps free Loose & Lanky while I was at it. The first thing I did was manipulate the crane and make sure that it had nothing that could unexpectedly drop on top of anyone; while I would've liked to have made use of this sort of trap against the Twister's allies for myself it was just too risky. The second thing was take note of the fact that Tengo had settled himself in a nice little hiding place on the roof of the superintendent's office, his gun ready to pick off anyone who got too close. Well, let's see how many people he'd manage to shoot with a malfunctioning gun. Going into the office, Jeego was standing guard at the door, waiting to ambush anyone who came though. Once again, it was a simple matter of going into his gun and fooling with the parts until it wouldn't be able to work, making use of what I had learned from the semi-automatics at the market square.
Further into the room was the superintendent's desk, seated at which was Beauty. I noticed that Beauty seemed to have lost her usual confident swagger; in fact she almost seemed ill. Her Short-Statured Sidekick was busy at an espresso machine, making up coffee.
"Here, Beauty my dear," he handed her a cup.
"Thank you, Dandy. You may be a pain, but you have your uses," she took the coffee from him and took a sip, grimacing as she did. "Ugh! What's with this coffee, it's as weak as piss!"
"S-sorry Beauty," Dandy replied. "It came in these little pre-made packets and they don't seem to be past their use-by date…"
"It's this damn country," Jeego cut in, "they wouldn't know a decent infusion if you jammed it down their throat."
"Well," Beauty rolled her eyes at Dandy, "I suppose I can't blame everything that goes wrong on you." She took her cup of coffee and poured it into a nearby potted plant. "When's he gonna be finished down there, anyway?"
Dandy shuddered, "I'd wager he's giving the same treatment he gave to this junkyard's superintendent and poor old 42."
"42 was a fool," Beauty groaned, "thinking he could sell the meteorite on the black market behind our backs. And we needed to silence that superintendent. But what the Twister did was… excessive, to say the least."
All three of the spies looked nauseous as they recalled whatever it was the Twister had done to the superintendent and the Phoney Doctor. I tried not to guess, but I think it was fair to say that their demises had been fairly messy and painful.
Suddenly, Beauty sat up to attention, "Somebody's here."
Uh-oh. Beauty's 'sixth sense'. It had been something of a headache for me in the other timeline, although I never did find out just how Beauty was able to detect ghosts in the first place. Still, she could warn the Twister to my presence and then I'd be screwed. Beauty got out of her chair and began scanning around, carefully searching for something.
"C'mon Beau," groaned Jeego, "how could anyone have known we were gonna be here for them to plant a bug?"
"My sixth sense never lies," Beauty replied calmly.
"Maybe that implant in your head needs a tune up," Jeego quipped.
"And maybe you should shut up and watch your post," snapped Beauty.
Jeego said nothing although I did catch him sneer at Beauty before he turned back to the door.
"Um, Beauty my dear," Dandy tapped his cohort lightly on the shoulder. "Didn't the Twister say that your 'sixth sense' could also pick up those affected by the meteorite?"
Beauty stopped looking around and turned to Dandy, "A ghost, huh? The Twister did say he was expecting a 'special guest'."
"So uh… who's gonna warn him?" Dandy asked nervously.
None of them moved. It seemed that none of them relished the idea of having to deal with the Twister already.
"He could figure it out on his own, right?" Jeego asked finally.
"Won't he get mad or something if he finds out we didn't tell him?" Dandy replied.
"Well then, you go tell him," snarled Jeego.
Dandy's face seemed to turn green, "But, but… what if he's doing something real nasty to that cop? I just ate."
Beauty gave a groan, "I'll go." She got up from her seat and headed downstairs. "Have an antacid ready for me when I get back…"
I followed Beauty downstairs via the fan motor in the floor dividing the office from the basement and took a quick survey of the scene. The room was bare and empty for the most part, with the exceptions being the Twister standing near the doorway, next to him were two bloodstained tarps draped over what I took the bodies of the Phoney Doctor and the junkyard superintendent. I was glad I couldn't see them. On the opposite side of the room was three rows of shelves holding a toolbox, and below them was Loose & Lanky, a little worse for wear but alive and still conscious, but he was chained to the floor by his foot.
Beauty came downstairs, "We have an unwelcome guest."
The Twister just laughed, "I wondered what was taking him so long."
"So… what will you do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"I have a nice little game set up for him and our noble man of the law," he sneered. He turned to Loose & Lanky. "Oh Mister Inspector!"
"What?" snapped Loose & Lanky, who was clearly in no mood for the Twister's 'games'.
"Now, now, is that any way to speak to such a gracious host? Especially when I've taken all this trouble to set up such a lovely little game for you and your friends." He took a small metal canister from under his jacket, "First of, care to guess what's in this?"
Loose & Lanky didn't reply, but from the look on his face he didn't think it was anything good.
"Aw, giving up so quickly? Alright then, I'll tell you," the Twister giggled, "its mustard gas!"
"M-mustard gas?" stammered Beauty. "Are you nuts? Where the hell did you get your hands on a banned chemical weapon?"
"That's none of your concern," the Twister replied. "Just round up your little crew and get ready to leave."
"Leave?" Loose & Lanky looked confused. "But what about the exchange for the meteorite?"
"Yes," Beauty said incredulously, "what about the meteorite?"
"Oh please, a short and simple little exchange? Far too easy!" replied the Twister. "Besides, they probably won't hand us the whole thing, if at all. I'm afraid we just have to let things play out for a little longer."
"This is insane!" snarled Beauty. "The deal is that you get us a piece of the Temsik and help us kill off anyone who knows about it! But instead you keep wasting our time and-!"
"Go and complain to your fearless leader if it bothers you so much," said the Twister. "but for now, I suggest you focus on getting you and your comrades out of here before the police arrive, and also I'd suggest you get your 'Angels of Death' to check that their tools of trade haven't been tampered with."
Beauty's face was purple with rage, but she didn't argue and instead stormed back up the stairs. The Twister turned back to Loose & Lanky.
"I'm sure you're well aware what mustard gas does, Inspector?" said the Twister.
Loose & Lanky didn't reply, but he was sweating buckets.
"It's a sulphur compound," said the Twister, stroking the canister with a gloved finger. "Not usually fatal, but the burns it causes upon contact with the skin leave unsightly, painful blisters. It irritates the eyes, and if you breathe it in you'll be lucky not to choke to death on your own mucus. Of course," the Twister chuckled, "that all depends on how well you do in this little game of ours. If you can reach that toolbox you might something useful, or you could wait for someone to come to your rescue, which is not very likely."
The Twister pulled a pin from the canister and an orange-brown gas began to slowly seep out. The Twister brought the canister up to his face, deeply inhaling the escaping fumes. Of course he was unaffected by the poison and giggled as he placed it on the ground.
"It's such an awful shame that I won't be able to stay and watch," the Twister said lazily. "But I have a hot date tonight – can't keep a lady waiting, I'm sure you understand, Inspector." The Twister leant forward, craning his neck to the side and waved to Loose & Lanky. "You kids have fun now! Maybe if you get lucky we can play again sometime?" And with that, the Twister turned around and walked back up the stairs.
Loose & Lanky leapt up and began clawing for the toolbox, but it was on the uppermost shelf, where he could've never reached it. I noticed the motorised hoist not too far away, so I jumped into it and caused it to move towards the shelves. Loose & Lanky noticed this.
"That you, Sissel?" he cried. "Oh Goooods, I hope so. You don't think you – COUGH! You don't think you could – COUGH COUGH! hand me that toolbox up there?"
I possessed the toolbox and began shaking. In the past I'd have only been able to make it open and shut, but once again the passing of ten years was on my side. Slowly I was able to rattle the toolbox to the edge of the shelf until it tipped off and crashed to the floor, Loose & Lanky jumping out of the way as it burst open. Out of the toolbox fell a single one-handed hatchet. Excellent, I thought. Now Loose & Lanky can cut through that chain.
Loose & Lanky, however, didn't share my sentiments, "That siiick sonnova bitch! This'll never get through that damn chain…"
My heart sank as I realised he was right, that there simply was no way that Loose & Lanky could swing that hatchet hard enough to break through the metal chain. The chain was bolted to the floor, so I jumped into the shackle around Loose & Lanky's ankle and tried to manipulate the lock. That didn't help, either. A lock, as it turns out, is filled with many tiny moving parts, most of which were too small for me to manipulate, and even if I could I would've needed to manipulate them all at once for the lock to open. I was already starting to panic when I heard a dull thud, followed by a holler from Loose & Lanky.
I jumped back into the toolbox and was aghast by what I saw – by the looks of it. Loose & Lanky had decided to take his chances with the hatchet, but his aim had missed, and instead of hitting the chain he had cut into his own leg!
"Gods and Saints, that fuckin' hurts!" Loose & Lanky snarled through gritted teeth. "That bastard, I'm gonna kick his ass!"
He winced as he pulled the hatchet from his shin. Then, he raised the hatchet above his head, and held his leg steady with his free hand. That's when I realised that Loose & Lanky wasn't aiming for the chain…
"No!" I cried. "Cabanela, DON'T!"
But even if he could hear me, I doubt it would've stopped him. The room was slowly but steadily filling with that horrid brown gas, and already small blisters were forming on Loose & Lanky's skin. I simply did my best to look away as the hatchet fell for a second time, then a third which finally did the job. Loose & Lanky quickly tore off his red scarf and tied it around his bloody stump of a leg, pulled his white jacket over his face and hobbled painfully towards the stairs. I was left behind in the toolbox but seeing that Loose & Lanky was just struggling to walk, I didn't hold it against him. If anything, my respect for the Loose & Lanky Lawman had just increased tenfold.
About a few minutes later, men wearing strange white suits that made them look like they were made of marshmallows came in and began collecting whatever they could find, including the two corpses and my toolbox. I was put into a plastic bag and taken outside where Lynne and a whole slew of other officers were waiting, including the Bereted Investigator and the Freckle-Faced cutie. Lynne was biting her lip and pacing around.
"Lynne, are you sure you're ok?" the Cutie asked her.
"I'm fine," Lynne replied, "it's just all this insanity and everything…"
The man carrying my bag was just about to pass Lynne by, so I took the opportunity to jump to her core and speak with her.
"Sissel!" Lynne was ecstatic when she saw me. "What a relief, I was afraid that sicko might've eaten you!"
"He'd eaten already," I replied. "The superintendent of this junkyard, and our missing Phoney Doctor."
"He killed his own ally?"
"Yeah, seems the guy was planning to sneak some of the Temsik meteorite for himself." I told Lynne what had happened in the office, how the Twister's own allies seemed to distrust him, and how Loose & Lanky and I had been forced to play the Twister's sick little game.
"Incredible," Lynne muttered, "all that just for a laugh."
"Yeah, I know. But Lynne, where's Jowd and Cabanela?"
Lynne sighed, "Cabanela's already at the hospital, they'll take care of him there. But Jowd…"
"Y-yes?" there was a part of me that didn't want Lynne to answer. "What about Jowd?"
"He's off the case, Sissel."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, somehow I knew this was going to happen and yet I still couldn't accept it, "Why?"
"The incident at market square," Lynne replied sadly. "Jowd was seen co-operating with the suspects by several witnesses and that means he's officially under investigation. And since we now know that the Twister is definitely working with these people that means Jowd's presence on the case is a conflict of interest."
"Has he been arrested?"
"Not yet, but still, this could ruin his whole career," Lynne despaired. "What's worse, Cabanela's injuries from that gas and hacking off his own foot will keep him out of action for a while…"
I realised just how complicated the situation had become, "Wait a second, Lynne. That's means-!"
"Yeah," Lynne said grimly. "I'm officially in charge."
