Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me.
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Chapter One
"Mr. Yuy," a voice crackled through the com, "There's a lady out here who'd like to speak to you."
"Send her in."
The door opened, and a woman with neatly curled, brown hair and blue eyes entered. She had a small handbag tightly clutched in her fist, and a nervous shimmer in her eyes. Her lips slightly curved into a polite smile, she spoke, "Detective Yuy?"
The man in front of her grunted, cobalt eyes glinting at her through a mop of unruly brown hair. He gestured for her to take a seat. She obeyed, and took a small breath before she continued, "I suppose I should begin. My name is Catherine Bloom." A pause. "A-a year ago, my half brother Trowa Barton left to study in London. I have never heard from his since - no calls, letters - nothing. Then, I got this through the mail a couple of days ago." She took a small, and slightly battered beige envelope out of her handbag, and handed it to the detective. Patiently waiting, she watched him open it, and take the folded piece of paper out to read.
After a few moments of silence, Mr. Yuy looked up from the letter, "What do you want me to do about it?"
The lady shifted on her seat uncomfortably, before replying, "It... the circumstances don't fit. Why would Trowa simply drive out all the way to Brighton, in a lone area, might I add, and then drive off a cliff which was so clearly marked with warnings? I... I can't see my brother as someone who doesn't... what I mean is that it isn't like him."
"You did say that he hasn't spoken to you since last year, though," Mr. Yuy pointed out.
"Yes. That's true..." she confessed. "But it's fishy... The police asked me to have a look at a few photos and analyses taken from the body they have found - or what's left of it - and it's not Trowa. Of that I am sure." She paused dramatically. "All I want is to know is what's going on."
The detective nodded, "That's understandable. Do you have any other information you'd like to convey, or is this all you have?"
"I have the address of Trowa's apartment, but that's it," she replied, and started digging in her bag for a pen and piece of paper. "I never had time to visit - only to write. And he never picked up or returned my calls."
"Do you have any idea why?" the man asked, and opened one of the drawers in his desk, taking out a notebook and pen. He offered the items to the lady, who quickly wrote an address onto the lined sheet.
"No." she replied, while writing. "We hardly ever fought. We were quite close, actually. Here." She handed the notebook and pen back to its owner. "The reason why he never kept contact after out parent's death is a mystery to me... I really miss him."
The detective suddenly stood up, and held out his hand to the woman. "I will accept your case."
Her eyes softened, and suddenly shimmered with bright, new hope. A genuine smile crept to her lips, and she quickly shook the other's hands.
"Thank you, Mr. Yuy. Thank you!"
Withdrawing his hand, he walked towards the door, and opened it for her, "Please give your name and other details to my secretary, Hilde. She will tell you all about paying arrangements. Also, I will keep you updated for any progress."
The lady nodded gratefully, and swiftly left the stuffy office.
Mr. Yuy started massaging the back of his neck absent mindedly, and picked up the phone. Dialling the number for the police station, he spoke into the shell.
"I want to speak to the sergeant." A muffled 'please hold' sounded, and silence quickly followed.
Finally, a deep voice on the other end grunted, "Yes?"
"Heero Yuy here," the detective said, picking up the letter which the lady had left behind and turned it in his fingers. "I'd like to find out about the death of a certain Trowa Barton. Address: 44 Elm Street."
"Another case?" Heero grunted a 'yes'. "Ok, I'll see what I can do. Wait a minute."
A small 'click' was heard on the other end. Impatiently tapping his foot, the bored man looked about his office. It was a small room, furnished with just two chairs, a desk and two filing cabinets. The only window in the room had its curtains drawn closed, blocking the sun from invading the softly lit room, and only a small strand of light was able to penetrate through. The contrast of light and shadow made everything seem dark and dusty. The air was stuffy and hot in this summer afternoon, and the air conditioner at the top corner was broken.
A frustrated sigh escaped from the man's lips, before the person on the other end came back.
"You still there? Good. Alright. This Barton's death actually surprised me. Not the usual car accident you get nowadays. Rather something from a book. Heh, anyway, this Barton apparently went for a drive by the coast in Brighton - and drove his car right off a cliff. We thought it was suicide, but we're still not sure. The face of the body we found was unrecognizable, but his sister came by this morning to confirm its identity She was sure it's not Barton. Apparently, he had broken his arm as a boy, but no signs of bone fractures were found. Quite a mystery, eh? But the guy upstairs thinks it's not worth our resources, so he put the case on halt for the moment. Well, that's all I can tell ya."
Heero nodded. "Ok, thanks, Howard."
"No prob."
After the detective had hung up, he quickly scribbled down all of this information down on his notepad. Grabbing his coat, he exited the room.
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