Chapter Four: The Crime Scene
The three Bureau agents sat with Yanivich as he wept quietly over the body of his former mentor. They let him grieve in silence, though Liz, always the one to comfort, had placed a hand gently on his shoulder and left it there, her brow creased with sympathy. Hellboy tried hard not to imagine that Yanivich was enjoying that immensely; he knew that now was not the time to let jealous suspicions cloud his judgement.
In truth, they all felt more than a little sad as well. Professor Cook had been such a genial, hospitable, and charming man; though they had met him only once he had left a fondness in all their hearts. Hellboy especially was a little more than slightly pained, for Professor Cook had reminded him quite strongly of his father.
How unfair, he thought, that it has to be people like this who meet the worst ends. He sighed audibly, catching Liz's attention for a moment, and the two exchanged sad smiles.
The authorities arrived quickly; within ten minutes they had arrived and were swarming the room. Their numbers included regular police as well as government officials, several of whom the agents recognized upon their debriefing when they first arrived in Poland. The police would stop and stare at the three agents, mainly Hellboy and Abe, but were quickly ushered away by the officials, who looked irritated by their very presence.
Finally, a man named Moshki Korczack approached them, clearing his throat officiously. He was the head of special operations department of the Polish government, and he filled his position well. He was one of the few officials they had met so far that Hellboy didn't mind; ironically his position was of the highest power, yet unlike his underlings he did not let this get to his head.
He faced them now, looking grim. "I have spoken to Mr. Yanivich. He has told me of the disappearance of the chains. It is a shame to lose such valuable artefacts, and an even greater shame to lose a man like Professor Cook."
"You knew him, then," Hellboy said, placing a cigar in his mouth and lighting it. "I assume you'd have to; you're the one equipped to deal with this whole Przez Las fiasco."
"You are correct," said Korczack. "It was I who ordered the search of the village, and it was I who contacted your Bureau for help. I visited Professor Cook frequently to examine the artefacts myself, but of course I have learned nothing from them. Partly I visited merely for the man's company. One must pity Mr. Yanivich; he knew him best, of course."
"Of course," said Abe with a nod. "I trust he has someone to look after him in this time?"
"I don't know," confessed Korczack. "I don't know Mr. Yanivich very well, I'll admit; though friendly enough, he was always very quiet. I know nothing of him save that he was Professor Cook's understudy. Family is a subject that I have never heard brought up."
"Maybe it would be prudent to ask?" suggested Abe with a shrug. "I would hate to leave him alone with no one to talk to after what has happened."
"I'll speak to him again, if you think it's a good idea," said Korczack. He gave them each a nod, and then turned back to Yanivich, who had ceased his weeping and stood red-eyed over Professor Cook's corpse, looking thoughtfully down at it. Grief was still etched into the young man's handsome features, but he seemed to have gotten hold of himself. He did not smile when Korczack approached and obscured Hellboy's vision of him.
He turned to Abe, a low growl of impatience rumbling like thunder in his massive chest. "This is getting a little too complicated for my taste, Blue. I'm tired of standing around doing nothing. We need to get our asses to Przez Las; finish this bullshit before someone else dies." He shot a pointed glance toward Yanivich, feeling the urge to kick out the rest of the glass that still clung to the steel supports of one of the cases, but Father had thought him that he must never touch anything at a crime scene. With a grunt he resisted.
Abe nodded his agreement, his breathing collar hissing as he inhaled. Hellboy felt soothed by the sound. "We should not have to be here much longer; essentially we are useless at such a crime scene. I have noted the nature of Cook's injuries and the absence of the relics, but I believe that is all we can do. I would suggest that Mr. Yanivich relocate to a safer place, who knows if whoever or whatever did this might come back for something else."
"I doubt it," snorted Hellboy. "Creatures that do things like this- they get everything they've come for the first time around."
"Can you be sure this attacker was not human?"
"Attackers, not 'attacker'. You saw the multiple footprints outside the door." He jerked his head to where officials were photographing the ground. "Lots of 'em—too many to be a single entity. Plus, they were small; smaller than human feet by quite a bit. And the wounds on Cook's body: tiny stab wounds, as though he were pierced by several tiny daggers. So many, in fact, that he bled out before anyone could find him. And," he added pointedly, "I could smell 'em. Definitely not human."
"I've learned to trust your nose, Red," said Abe quietly. "It's never led us wrong before. Your hypothesis makes sense."
"And I've got a feeling," said Hellboy, his yellow eyes narrowing, "that all this leads straight to Pzrez Las."
***
The Polish officials were soon finished with the agents of the BPRD; though Hellboy felt that the information he had figured out might be useful, he knew not to say a word without Bureau clearance. He wanted rather desperately to tell them; the poor saps were standing around like morose, confused kids lost in a department store, unable to do anything even as the coroner arrived to photograph and remove Cook's body. He did comfort himself, though, in knowing that his knowledge would not likely do them a bit of good; he, Abe, and Liz were the only paranormal agents there, and there was precious little the regular government could do about small creatures with tiny feet and tiny daggers that vanished with hardly a trace.
Yeah, he thought, better to keep my big mouth shut on this one. Should report my suspicions to the Bureau though… Quickly he looked around for an escape route, somewhere where he could go and send a transmission without being overheard, but the room was still swarming with people going in and out; he would look rather conspicuous shouldering his way outside, where he was sure that other agents were gathered.
As though reading his thoughts, Korczack approached them again, walking quickly. He stopped and leaned in, speaking so quietly that Abe and Hellboy had to lean in to hear. "Listen, a crowd has gathered outside. All entrances are currently occupied with the general public; I would not advise your release until they have dissipated, for everyone's safety."
The agents nodded wordlessly, though Hellboy blew a big sigh and rubbed his horn stumps in frustration. "Abe, we are never gonna get out of here."
Abe merely heaved a sigh of his own and looked morosely toward the door.
***
It was a full three hours until the room had cleared of all but a few officials; the police had gone, and only a few of Korczack's less—than—personable lackeys remained, picking over this, checking that, casting dark looks at Abe, Hellboy, and Liz, who had returned to her fellow agents' sides when Yanivich excused himself to his room.
"How's he doin'?" muttered Hellboy as he shoved another cigar into his mouth. His eyes glittered in the firelight of his Zippo as he lit it; Liz smiled at him despite herself. He had such beautiful eyes.
"He seems all right," she said. "Better, at least. He's taking it pretty well. He been questioned pretty thoroughly by just about everybody; I don't blame him for wanting to go to his room for a while. Hopefully he'll be able to get a little sleep; it's been a horrific day for him."
"It's been a pretty horrific day for us, too," said Hellboy through a cloud of smoke, "and it's about to get a lot worse. After we get clearance to leave here we go straight to that damned village; by my estimates it's gonna be about a four to five hour drive to where I suspect is the dropoff point." He shuddered. Their designated vehicle was nothing more than a black, sleek government sedan, definitely not made to house a seven-foot demon on long car trips. He suspected that he was going to be very sore for the majority of the trip. Unconsciously he rubbed his neck, as though it already hurt from being cramped and bent in the low-ceilinged vehicle.
Liz looked at him sympathetically, understanding. She looked about to say something when one of Korczacks's lackeys came over, trying his best not to glower at them. "Mr. Korczack says that your exit has been secured; you are free to leave now. He also requested," here the lackey swallowed distastefully, as though he had eaten something foul, "that I inquire as to your need of an escort to your vehicle."
Hellboy smiled to himself; obviously, judging by the man's reaction, it would be him escorting them if they accepted the proposal. Seeing as he hated these damn toadies more then he hated pretty much everything else in Poland, he decided to allow himself a little liberty. Drawing himself up to his full height, he flexed the wrist of his stone right hand. It made a massive crack! in the small room, and he rolled his shoulders a little, watching the man's eyes widen as he took a step back.
"Nah," said Hellboy, gazing straight into the man's watery blue eyes with his gleaming yellow ones. "I don't think we'll be needing an escort."
Grateful, the man turned and walked out of the room, but it was obvious by the tension in his shoulders and his short steps that he was trying his best not to run. Hellboy chuckled a little to himself; Liz tried to look stern but failed miserably, and Abe had focused his attention on the door, just happy to be leaving.
They had made it halfway down the corridor when rapid footsteps sounded behind them. Turning, the agents saw Yanivich running towards them, a large backpack strapped across his shoulders and a small suitcase in his hand.
"Oh, no," groaned Hellboy.
The young man approached, panting. "I heard you are leaving for Pzrez Las," he gasped. "I know that what happened here has something to do with where you are going; that the answers lie there. I will avenge my mentor if I can; he was like my father, and as such I feel an honour and duty to see that this horrible deed will not go unpunished. I am coming with you."
"Now, hang on a minute," Hellboy began, but Yanivich held up a hand.
"I will not take 'no' for an answer, Mr. Hellboy. I am going with you."