Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or any of its characters, so don't sue me!
Pairings: Not quite sure yet…
Plot: Hopefully will arrive soon - should turn out as one of those Detective type ones - they are REALLY good. J Just saying…
Chapter Two
"So, you never got a clear look at your attacker, or the person who stepped in to help you?" Heaving a sigh of irritation, Detective Chang leaned back in his seat.
"Mr Carthaven, I don't suppose you can give me something to work on here?…A reason you were attacked maybe? Umm, something they said, unusual mannerisms, perhaps they moved funny, anything…"
Thinking back, Quatre's eyes darkened in colour as he struggled to remember anything that might help the Detective.
* Liquid silver slowly leaked into the man's eyes, running around the iris before engulfing it completely, leaving only the pupil the same. *
"His eyes!" The Detective jumped a little at the sudden outburst, making his coffee spill onto his hand. Yelping at the hot liquid, Chang gestured for Quatre to continue, even as he hunted around for a napkin to mop up with.
"He had odd coloured eyes, amber. And, I could have sworn they turned silver at one point…but even if they didn't, amber is still a rare eye colour, isn't it?"
Making a wry face, Chang scribbled the detail down in his notepad, so he'd have a resource to consult, other than the tape recorder sat on the corner of the interviewing table.
"Amber is a rare eye colour, unless of course he was wearing contacts, in which case it's not all that rare. Then there's the fact that we can't go round checking everyone's eyes in an attempt to find your attacker…I know you've been through a lot this evening, and I really don't mean to make this harder for you. Still, it would help if we had more to go on."
Gentling his tone, the Detective looked across at Quatre, who could feel that he was genuinely trying to help.
"Listen, I'll put out what you've given me; his height and eye colour, and maybe we'll pick him up in one of our regular patrols. Until then, anything you can add would be appreciated, and you'd do well to be extra cautious."
"I think that's enough for tonight. I'll get someone to take you to the hospital and escort you home, okay?"
Nodding reluctantly, Quatre handed his safekeeping over to the police for the rest of the night, relying on them to tell him where to go and what to do.
The hospital trip passed in a blur of questions, pokings and proddings. The attacker hadn't caused too much damage, and Quatre was allowed to leave, with only a minor concussion from hitting the wall, and instructions to wake up every hour throughout the remainder of the night - just as a precaution.
"Thanks for giving me a lift, you guys want to come in for a coffee or something before you go back to the station?"
The two uniforms exchanged glances, their longing easy to read from their auras. Eventually one of them shook their head reluctantly, and they declined the invitation with tangible regret.
Turning from the retreating car, Quatre turned his blue-green eyes to the block of apartments the officers had dropped him off at. Seven floors high, with three apartments on each level, the apartments were some of the more expensive available.
Staring up at the building pensively for a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of admiring the place he used to live.
Turning his back on the comfortable lodgings, he straightened his hunched in posture, and, sticking his hands in his black trouser pockets, casually set off down the road.
Back at the centre of town, Quatre expanded his empathic sense, searching for danger as he moved past the night clubs and restaurants, weaving in and out amongst the people who were out for a good time.
Coming to the end of the night-life area, he scanned his surroundings for danger, before crossing over the street, heading for the large iron gates situated there.
A large driveway hid behind the gates, leading to a mansion, set so far back from the road that people often mistook the large driveway as another road. Trees and bushes surrounded the mansion, and sheltered it from sight. The drive opened up into a wide space before the front door, with enough room to hold up to six cars comfortably. A large fountain, filled with fish, took up the middle, creating an island for the cars to drive around.
Built like some kind of temple, the mansion had typical, old fashioned, brickwork, with vines of ivy and roses creeping across the front. It also had columns, built from marble and designed to look like the ancient Greek's, positioned to hold up the large overhang at the front, en lieu of a porch.
Another building stood to the right of the house, the garage. A gate separated the garage from the mansion, and allowed access to the back of the house. At the back was a large area of lawn, several series' of designed flower gardens, and a large, covered swimming pool, all separated from each other by large hedges. Further back from all that were the woods, and the remainder of the land.
And all was owned by one, Quatre Raberba Winner. Bequeathed to him by his late father, dead now for over a month.
Having bypassed the code-only gate, Quatre jogged along the driveway, mindful of his pounding head. After all the trouble he'd gone to, he'd be damned if failed when he was this close to success.
Sunken lights illuminated the drive, as it curved behind a cluster of trees, which would plunge it into darkness otherwise. Knowing the setup like the back of his hand, Quatre easily avoided the lights, and the security cameras hidden in the branches of the trees, designed to show all of the drive.
Coming up to the mansion, Quatre noted the garage was in use, as well as the driveway itself, filled to overflowing with the cars of guests and employees.
Cursing fluently, he ducked behind a convenient conifer, as an elderly drunken couple giggled their way past. When the coast was once again clear, the young man sprinted to the mansion and jumped as high as he could.
Fingers grasped at wooden lattice-work, and snagged a hold. Grunting under his breath, Quatre pulled himself up using his arms, and began to climb to the open window on the seventh floor.
After an age, he managed to reach his destination, and, fingers trembling with fatigue, he hauled his tired body up and over the window ledge. Barely glancing at the opulent room he was in, he quickly tugged his dirt-stained shirt over his head, kicking it under the bed as he moved towards the wardrobe near the door.
Changing into a black-tie suit, Quatre hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, forgoing a tie. Afterall, the casual look was in this year. Slipping into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, Quatre rinsed the dirt from his face, sprayed some deodorant on quickly, and ran a brush through the golden strands of hair. Deciding he looked passable enough, he took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh, then moved to the door leading to the main house.
The seventh floor was empty, with no sign on the red carpets lining the corridors, to indicate someone had come to fetch him…yet.
The first three floors of the mansion were purely decorational, used for; entertaining guests, hosting parties, holding meetings and storing things that had nowhere else to go.
For this reason, they were easily accessible to visitors. Just inside the front door, was a large, old fashioned entrance hall. Directly opposite the front door was a large, elegant staircase, which curved around the higher up it went. The first floor was accessible, due to the landing, which protruded from the floor and joined the stairs. At this juncture the stairs flattened out, creating the landing, which also served as a balcony, looking down at the entry hall below.
The stairs then continued up, leading on from the opposite side they had previously risen to. Another landing, like the one for the first floor, allowed entry to the second floor. This continued on to the third floor, where it reached a rather unusual balcony. Protected by sturdy banisters, people could look down and see the stairs and the platforms leading to the first and second floors, or they could look up and see an elaborate mural of a scene straight out of a fairy tale.
The mural was a depiction of a massive forest, a cluster of wolves drinking from a lake provided the focus of the picture, with other animals hiding amongst the trees awaiting their turn. A shy unicorn was resting in the shade, squirrels playing a game around its resting body. Fairies danced across the still water, one even playfully flicking droplets at the wolves' face.
The main part of the picture was based on the ceiling, but it spilled down the walls as well, getting smaller and more intricately detailed the further down it came, until all that was left, were a few curling tendrils of vines - reminiscent of those gracing the front of the house.
The only way to reach the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh floors though, was through a secret passage. Each floor held one. On the bottom floor there was one in the kitchen. The first floor in the lounge. Second floor the ballroom. The third floor, the library.
Each of the secret passage ways rose passed the first three floors, rising like a spiralling staircase, used in a tower. Each of the secret passage ways had four exit points, one leading to each of the 'hidden' floors. This meant there were three different ways to get back down from each floor, resulting in three different places of exit, one on each of the floors.
Only people who were known to be loyal to the Winner family were employed, and only they knew of the ways to the other floors. Everybody else was led to assume the mansion only had the first three floors, and that the remainder of the house was used for storage, or else purely aesthetic.
Quatre had just covered up the passage leading to the seventh floor, when a giggling girl latched onto his sleeve, raining kisses along his neck and shoulder.
" Hello again, Miriam, wasn't it?" Laughing politely, Quatre tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but the brunette merely tightened her hold.
Ignoring his lack of participation, the intoxicated girl ran her hand down Quatre's backside, "Hey, pretty-boy. I've been looking for you aaalllll night! I was sooo nervous about talki…*hic*…talking to you, you wouldn't believe…But!…It's quite easy, isn't it?"
Giggling, the girl attempted to kiss him again. Desperately trying to ignore the groping he was being subjected to, Quatre couldn't help squeaking when he felt a surprisingly strong hand squeeze his butt.
Using all of his persuasive charm, Quatre talked her into letting go of his butt-cheek, and following him over to the leather couch leaning against the wall of the study. Gently easing her down on the soft chair, he raised her face to his gaze, holding her fuzzy eyes with his, as he clouded her mind even further.
The girl's eyes fluttered shut and she fell limp within his grasp. Pulling her legs up beside her, Quatre ensured she was as comfortable as possible, although there was nothing he could do about the killer hangover she would have in the morning due to imbibing too much when trying to steady her nerves. Evidently, her nerves had been plenty steadied, but she would be paying the price tomorrow.
Quatre was just turning to walk out the door, when it swung open. Framed in the doorway, a large man stood, with his arms crossed over his chest. Muscles bulged, even through the concealing clothe of his formal tux, and his expression was fixed in an expression of stern disapproval. Seeing Quatre he bowed slightly, almost unnoticeably, then turned a knowing eye on the brunette lying unconscious on the couch.
"Another one? That makes three in one week, a record even for you."
Coming into the room, Quatre's head of security firmly shut the door behind him before letting the stern expression drop into something more approachable. Tension around the eyes lessened, making wrinkles less obvious, and his mouth relaxed, one corner turning up into the hint of a grin.
"I know, I know. It's not my fault though, if they'd just stop accosting me, then I'd be able to stop 'letting them down' gently." Letting out a rough laugh, Rashid reached out casually and ruffled Quatre's hair lightly.
"Nothing would stop them from 'accosting' you, as you put it, apart from changing the way you look. Until you marry or grow old enough to put them off, I can see why you prefer hiding away at these types of functions."
"Unfortunately, since your father died, you are now in charge of the Winner fortune and all its businesses. It was all very well hiding in your room when you were a young boy, but you are now the host of these parties. Unwillingly, I grant you, but you are required to mingle with your guests, and curry favour at the same time."
Regarding his faithful servant, and father-figure, Quatre studied the face before him, noting it had lost all mirth and was once again leaning towards sternness. Sighing slightly, Quatre pushed aside the fear he'd experienced earlier, and firmly ignored the throbbing from his bruise.
"Okay, let's get this over with. Who do I need to talk to tonight? And who do I need to keep an eye out for, allies, rivals etc.? Also, see if you can get a list of those who have drunk the most, and what they drank. It might pay to know who is most susceptible to coercion tonight, and what certain people have a weakness for - drinkswise, of course, blackmail is so redundant, and often backfires…"
Quatre continued listing his requirements for the remainder of the evening, heading out the door as he did, smoothing out his rumpled suit and half-aware of Rashid relaying orders over his hidden comm to the rest of the staff. Time to plunge headfirst into the world of intrigue, dishonesty and etiquette that had ruled his father's life, up 'til he was murdered.
Taken me ages to update I'm afraid, although not as long as for some of my other pieces (namely, my Gundam Wing fics!). Anyway, I hope you like this - can't actually remember if I got any reviews for this or not…hmm, must have been a very long time since I updated then! J
R&R, please? I know this chapter was long, but boring, but I wanted to get something solid out, and it was all just Quatre's background - no action. Oh, well…