A/N: Thanks to ladyrayne13 for another review! I look forward to that email every time. I had fun tourturing Sarah during that last chapter. You should really love this chapter too...
As always, I welcome any and all reviews :-)
Chapter 11: Riddle, Riddle
Zachariah Johnson hung up his phone and stood next to Albus outside Scotland Yard after Albus had said good night to James. "What do we do now?" Albus asked him.
"You've been leading us for almost 20 hours," Zachariah said. "You don't know?"
"I'm new at this," Albus said. "I feel like we should be doing something between now and the flight."
"Yeah, you should," Zachariah said.
"What?" Albus asked.
"Go home," Zachariah said. "Spend some time with your daughter." He started walking away.
"Where are you going?" Albus asked.
Zachariah stopped in the first parking space, just across the fire lane. "An old case," he said.
"You're working two cases?" Albus asked, catching up.
"No," Zachariah said, walking away again. "Just something I do in my free time."
"What case?" Albus said, catching up again.
"The one my partner was working on when he died," Zachariah said getting more irritated.
"Your partner was working two cases," Albus said.
Zachariah stopped and took a deep breath. "No one works two cases. We work one case. But, some of us work on side projects in our free time: unsolved cases that won't leave us alone."
"So, it's a cold case," Albus said.
"Very cold," Zachariah said.
"Older than me?" Albus asked.
"Older than your father," Zachariah said. "Older than me honestly." He started walking again.
"What's the case?" Albus asked.
"It's a murder, okay? My partner's father was the county sheriff at the time. He investigated it. He made an arrest, but the guy got off because they couldn't figure out a cause of death. My partner bought the house where the murder happened. He'd hoped to finish what his father started. He believed modern science would solve anything."
"And you were helping?" Albus asked.
"Not until he died," Zachariah said. "Look, go home, please."
"Not until you give me the name of the dead person," Albus said.
"Fine," Zachariah said. "Three names. Tom and Mary Riddle and their son -"
"Tom Riddle Jr," Albus finished.
"You know the name?" Zachariah asked, taken aback.
"I know him as Tom Riddle Sr. Few wizards know about the grandfather. I know the killer too," Albus said. "But you don't seem too happy about that, which means you aren't really investigating your partner's case are you."
"What magic did you use to determine that?" Zachariah said.
"No magic. Eyes," Albus said. "The greatest magic has always been knowledge. You have more of that than me right now." Zachariah snorted and began walking again. "Wait, you said your partner bought the house when it went on the market?" Albus asked catching up again. They were almost at the end of the parking lot now.
"Yes, he did," Zachariah said.
"He died there didn't he," Albus said. Zachariah stopped. "You're not investigating his father's case, you're investigating his murder. That's the case that won't leave you alone."
"And I suppose you've solved that one too and forgot to tell me?" Zachariah asked, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice now.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Albus asked.
"Well, it seems like there are a lot of cases your kind solved and forgot to tell us," Zachariah said.
"Would you have believed us if we had?" Albus asked.
"No," Zachariah said after a long pause, his tone lowering a bit. "And they won't believe me on this one."
"Okay. But we may be able to help you on your partner's murder," Albus said.
"How?" Zachariah asked sincerely as he started walking again.
"I'll have to call my father. He has the power to check the security tapes," Albus said.
"There was no security footage, I've checked," Zachariah said, arriving at a helipad on the edge of the parking lot. A Helicopter stood waiting for him.
"Nothing you could access. Even I can't access it. But my father can," Albus said. He nodded toward the helicopter. "Is that how you're getting to Little Covington?"
"Yes," Zachariah said. "But it doesn't have room for three."
"That's ok," Albus said. "You're right; I need to see my wife and daughter. I'll have my father meet you at the Riddle House."
"All right," Zachariah said. He walked to the helicopter and began to close the door, but stopped suddenly. "And Albus, thanks. Thanks for everything."
"Hey, you're my partner," Albus said with truth in his eyes.
The helicopter landed just outside a small graveyard down the hill from the Riddle House, as Albus had called it. Even from a hundred feet in the air, Zachariah noticed the shape of Harry Potter standing outside the front door. Either he was waiting for Zachariah or he was as afraid of the house as the locals.
"Mr. Potter," Zachariah said, nodding to him a few minutes later as he approached.
"Agent Clay," Harry said. Zachariah smiled.
"I'm afraid that's not my real name," Zachariah said. "And since you're helping me so much, I think you deserve the truth. My name's Zachariah Johnson."
"Agent Johnson," Harry said in the same tone as before. "Albus said you have new info on the murder of your partner Mr. Acker. I'm heading that investigation. What is it?"
Zachariah pointed to the house. "The house?" Harry asked. "What about it?"
"He died here," Zachariah said. "In the drawing room."
Harry's eyes lit up. "That is a break indeed. A huge break."
"Sorry, I still don't quite understand what's going on here," Zachariah said. "Why is it a break? The house confounded my partner for twenty years researching the Riddle's murders."
"Yes, I bet it did," Harry said walking toward the house.
"Albus said he knew who did that," Zachariah prodded, following him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
"Yes," Harry said. "It was Tom Riddle."
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Zachariah said, stopping at the door. "Tom Riddle was the one who died."
"Actually, he was two of the ones who died if I'm not mistaken," Harry said. "But there was a third Tom Riddle here that night. Did your partner ever mention that the younger Riddle was married?"
"Yes," Zachariah said. "But he returned a few months later claiming his wife had bewitched him."
"Love potion," Harry said. "And a powerful one. She released him from it a few months into the marriage and he promptly left her. But in that time, he'd fathered a child whom she named Tom Marvolo Riddle. This Tom Riddle came here sixteen years later and confronted the father who'd left him. He entered the house, most likely tortured the Riddles and then killed them, framing his mother's brother for the crime. That encounter made him immortal, or so he thought," (there was a grin when Harry said this), "and it was after that encounter that he fashioned the name Lord Voldemort."
"And I suppose your Ministry punished him," Zachariah said.
"The Ministry tried, but he was very elusive. My family killed him though," Harry said. "Three times now actually. Although, technically he fired the shot all three times." Zachariah ignored that one.
"How is that relevant to my partner's murder?" Zachariah asked, trying to keep up as Harry began walking again.
"It's not," Harry said. "What is relevant is that Lord Voldemort returned to the house in 1994 to be reborn the first time. In 1995, Voldemort tried to kill me in the graveyard you parked your helicopter in and we became aware of his plans."
"You seem so nonchalant about him trying to kill you," Zachariah said.
"He tried to kill me for the first seventeen years of my life," Harry said. "I kind of got used to it."
"So, how does that help us on my partner's case again?" Zachariah asked. They were headed up stairs now.
"After we discovered that Voldemort planned to use the house again, Professor Dumbledore had the auror Kingsley Shacklebolt place magical security recording spells throughout the house, in case he came back again."
"Dumbledore? Shacklebolt?" Zachariah asked.
"Sorry, Albus Dumbledore was kind of our leader. Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the most important aurors in the Ministry from 1994-98. Shacklebolt made sure that only he and Dumbledore could access the recordings, but Dumbledore made him include me as well. He knew I'd be on my own at the end, and might need them."
"This isn't the same Shacklebolt in those conspiracy theories is it?" Zachariah asked.
"He became Minister of Magic and used his power very persuasively," Harry said almost apologetically.
"And these spells he set, are they still in place?" Zachariah asked, looking around more intently now.
"As long as I'm alive," Harry said.
"And we might be able to see the attacker on them?" Zachariah asked.
"No," Harry said. "They're not video cameras. But we can hear what he or she said and what spells were used, where they came in and how they left." They were in the master bedroom now. "It's all here," Harry said. "Supposedly there is a place where we can listen to these without retrieving them from the house but I've never been able to find it." He opened the closet and tapped his wand on the back wall. Immediately, it popped loose and dust flew everywhere. Harry summoned a small breeze to blow the dust away and moved the entire back wall out of the closet.
Behind it was a massive stereo device. Six Sony recording devices stood side by side. Each had at least twenty cassette tapes inside, two or three on one side, one in the middle and about seventeen to the other side. Harry moved forward and collected the smaller side of tapes from each device.
"Cassette tapes?" Zachariah asked.
Harry smiled. "This was cutting edge technology in '95," he said.
"No it wasn't," Zachariah said.
Harry smiled. "Shacklebolt figured that Voldemort would recognize the spells quickly and deactivate them. But he hoped that by using muggle recording systems, Voldemort wouldn't be able to find the tapes."
"Did it work?" Zachariah asked.
"No idea," Harry said. "Voldemort never came back. I'll listen to these today and see what I can turn up."
"Once you find a tape player that is," Zachariah kidded.
"Right," Harry said chuckling. "I'll see if my father-in-law still has one. He's fascinated by muggles." Harry used a mocking tone for that last sentence. "A tape player sounds like the type of thing he'd collect," Harry said. "Now, Albus made me promise to make you rest, and I really don't want to use magic on you. You promise me you'll sleep today?"
"When did Albus become my father?" Zachariah asked, but his eyes said he would. Harry must have felt that was enough.
"Good luck," he said. He gave Zachariah a pat on the shoulder. Then he turned and was gone.
Zachariah headed back to the helicopter. He had a reservation at his apartment in London: a bed was calling.
