Characters and settings are used without permission, and with no intention of damaging copyright in the original stories. This story may not be distributed on any profit-making basis. Distribution Fanfiction.net, Twisting The Hellmouth, Fonts of Wisdom, other sites please ask. I'm British, so's my spelling - live with it. Thanks to SilentChaos for information on mitochondrial DNA.
"Would someone please tell me what's happening at the Tribune?" Billie asked, pressing the button that raised her into a more upright position.
"Things are pretty much okay," said Dennis Price, the picture editor, stealing another grape, "Joe Rossi is on top of things, he's moaning about being overworked trying to keep the foreign desk under control as well as yours, but then he always does."
"That's great, Animal, now what's the real story?"
"Things really are okay."
"Really," echoed Nick Gibson, "We just went over to the schedule we used when you were on vacation, Nabbit authorised us to take on extra people as needed to pick up the slack, and things are jogging along. To be honest, the biggest story right now is your little massacre, and even that's gone quiet in the last few hours."
"Have they identified anyone yet?"
"Five of the guys in overalls," said Tommy Fowler, the crime reporter. "All thugs with records as long as your arm, all of them sliced up. Same for the other three, but they haven't been identified yet."
"What about the woman in the van?"
"The body? No identification."
"Come on, I know there's more."
"You're not going to like it."
"Try me."
"Your height and build, roughly the same age. She was a redhead, she had a broken neck, and there were signs that the body had been refrigerated for some time; days, possibly weeks. Her fingerprints had been removed with acid..."
"What else?"
He hesitated.
"What else?"
"You're really not going to like it."
"Tell me."
"The pathologist noticed that there was a lot of very new dental work, done within the last day or so. So they compared her teeth to your records. It was an almost perfect match. They think someone got into your files and worked on her to match you. They're checking your dentist for signs of a break-in."
"You're kidding."
"No. Their best guess is that whoever it was planned to snatch you and leave the body in the car, set it on fire."
"And this guy that rescued me? I think he told the police his name was Holt, something like that? Has he surfaced yet?"
"They think he said Holst, like the composer. Nothing, nobody's ever heard of him. Whoever he was, he was using some sort of sword, they think a sabre, managed to dodge at least four bullets and killed all eight, mostly with single deep slashes, without leaving much in the way of evidence. There are some fingerprints on your phone, but they aren't on record."
"I was rescued by Zorro?"
"Sounds like it, except he didn't leave his initials."
"It's a hell of a story, I hope you're giving it full coverage."
"Six pages. I'd show you, but the nurse made me leave the paper outside, she thought the pictures might upset you."
"Come on guys..."
Animal reached into a deep pocket that usually held a small camera and pulled out some folded pages. Billie looked at them for a few minutes, then said "These are great, but this isn't the whole story. Tommy knows some of this already. Yesterday I was called by a doctor called Hoskins, said he wanted to run some DNA tests to see if I was related to someone...." She explained the circumstances. "I've told the police all this, and given them written permission to look at all my medical records. I'm really curious as to what was in them, if the samples Hoskins has right now match me or that body."
"That's a hell of a thought," said Tommy, "You're thinking that they wanted to slip in a ringer, tell whoever it is, your niece or whatever, that she wasn't related to you?"
"Or that the body in the car was, maybe. I can't really see the point, but I think it could be very interesting to find out. Maybe there's someone else in line to inherit or something, Hoskins said something about this woman being wealthy. The police will probably take their own sweet time telling me, see what you can dig up."
"I can tell you one thing I found out this morning," he said thoughtfully, "what he said about DNA testing was off. If both the people being tested are women they can use a different technique, something called mitochondrial DNA, which gives much more accurate results. It'd be yes or no, not maybe. Either the other person is a man, not a woman, or he was trying to make it sound like there could be doubt for some other reason. Maybe just stalling for time while they got the body ready, I don't know. Should I go see the detective?"
"What detective?"
"Angel. You said you were going to see him."
"Maybe it'd be a good idea but better take company, for all we know it's him that's behind all this. Oh, and check out all of the bodies that have been identified for any link to Wolfram and Hart or Angel."
"Okay. Now get some sleep, you've got a broken arm and four busted ribs, the sooner you're out of here and back at work the happier Rossi'll be."
"Miss Newman?"
"Yes?"
Billie looked up from a crossword to see a young woman carrying a bunch of flowers, some grapes and a stack of magazines. She was in her mid-twenties, beautiful and athletic, wearing casual clothes that looked good but probably weren't designer labels. Billie thought she could see some faint scarring on her hands and arms, and a newly-healed cut on her forehead.
"My name's Cordelia Chase, we spoke on the phone yesterday evening."
Billie said "Did we?" and tried to figure out who she was.
"I don't think you actually got my name. I work for Angel Investigations."
"Oh.. yes, I remember."
"Okay, we were a little worried when you didn't come in last night, then we saw the morning paper and realised what had happened. So I bought you this stuff and dropped by to say 'hi' and find out how you are."
"Can you tell me anything about it? About the accident?"
"That's what I was going to ask you. We just have the newspaper reports to go on, and some things we've heard from the police."
"I can't add much... maybe a little, if you can answer a question for me."
"What's that?"
"Why did Angel recognise my name when I called? Does it have anything to do with the DNA tests I took yesterday?"
"I was coming to that. Looks like we picked the wrong doctor, but yes, we arranged them."
"The wrong doctor?"
"Hoskins has dropped out of sight. Supposedly on vacation, but it's a vacation that he's taking without any warning. I have a feeling he won't be coming back. All his records and samples are missing or destroyed."
"Okay, that answers one question. What did you want to know?"
"Why did you mention Wolfram and Hart when you called? For that matter, how did you know to call us?"
"There was a Rolodex on Hoskins' desk open at their number, and I saw part of your company name on a paper he was holding."
"Okay, no big surprise there... Now, about the guy who rescued you..."
"My turn first. Who is it that hired you?"
"I can't give you a name, but I can tell you that she's a friend, someone that I and Angel know pretty well and have done for a long time, that's why she hired us. She had no idea she was adopted until a few weeks ago, then she found out the truth and decided to look for her natural family. What's complicating things is that at the same time she apparently found out that she's getting a huge inheritance. And I really do mean huge. Anyway, when she didn't find anything in her home town she came to us, and we started digging into old files, your sister was the third possibility we found. The first two were negative. Or so Hoskins said, we may have to check them again if your results are negative too."
"It seems very bizarre. She's inheriting from her adopted parents?"
"And some relative of theirs, apparently. Now the guy who rescued you.. the police say his name was Holst, like the composer. Is that what he said? Can you describe him at all?"
"I was pretty much out of it.. tall, a small beard, he had some sort of heavy coat on, and he had a foreign accent, maybe some sort of British regional accent. His name certainly sounded like Holt or Holst. I didn't see the man who was with him at all, I just heard his voice. He kept telling Holst to hurry, to leave me... if he had I'd probably be dead. He had a very deep voice, that's about all I can tell you."
"Did he say anything that might explain why he was there?"
"No... I got the impression it was pure chance, that his friend was annoyed that he'd got involved. Okay, that's two questions I've answered, now it's my turn. Why are you so interested in Holst, and what's your interest in Wolfram and Hart?"
"Okay, the easy question first. You ever see The Usual Suspects, remember Keyser Söze?"
"Sure, what about him?"
"Wolfram and Hart wouldn't represent Keyser Söze.. come to think of it, maybe they would, they'd like the whole evil genius vibe.. but he'd be a little too small-time and noisy for them. They do business with corporations who pay millions to hush up their problems because the bad publicity would set them back billions. The fortune my friend has... they'd go for that. They'd sell their grandmothers for that. That's what this is about. I think they think they see a way to influence someone with that much money, maybe plant someone they control to inherit if she has an unfortunate accident." She mimed quote marks around the last words. "Considering who some of her friends are it'd be a remarkably stupid idea to try it, but they have people who may just be arrogant enough to think that they can get away with it. They also happen to hate Angel, he's ruined too many of their plans, so they keep a close eye on him which is probably how they found out what's going on."
"And Holst?"
"It's Holtz, tee zee, not Holst. You won't have any records on him, don't waste your time looking. He's one of the good guys, in a way. But Angel did him a terrible wrong years ago, in another country; there's nothing that can ever be done to put matters right, but he's decided to seek revenge any way he can. He only arrived in LA a couple of weeks ago. We think that he's going to go after Angel."
"And by pure chance he rescued me?"
"Chance, destiny, call it what you like. Not as rare as you might think. Okay, my turn. Have you made arrangements for some sort of bodyguard?"
"Not yet."
"Do it. We can have someone here in an hour if you like, but I think you'd be happier if you made your own arrangements. Ask David Nabbit, he owns your paper, he'll probably pay for it if you tell him we recommended it."
"You know David Nabbit?"
"We've done some work for him. Now I think that the immediate danger is past, there's no way they'd get away with kidnapping you again now the police are wise to their substitution plan, but I could be wrong. What we'll do, if it's okay with you, is get the DNA testing done again, this time by someone in another city who has no idea what the score is. I've got a kit to take a set of samples, after that it'd be a couple of days to get results."
"Is there really no faster way to settle this?"
"My instinct, my gut feeling, is that you're related to her, but with all that's at stake we have to be sure. It's as much for your protection as for hers."
"My protection?"
"If you are related... well, if what I've heard is right you'll be a target. For kidnapping, extortion, every crackpot in the country that wants her money and thinks you might be a way to get at it. It won't happen immediately, this whole thing is very low-profile right now, but sooner or later the crooks and the lunatic fringe will hear about her, and start to look for a way to get at her."
"What you're saying is that I shouldn't put this in the paper."
"I wouldn't if I were you. Or if you do, try not to emphasise the money side of it."
"Now you're really arousing my curiosity."
"If you are related you'll find out soon enough."
"Can I ask one more question? An impertinent personal one?"
"Try me."
"Your hands and arms... what happened?"
Cordelia anxiously examined them, then seemed to relax and said "The scars?"
"Yes?"
"Thought you meant I was growing fur or something for a second... You're observant, I heal pretty well and most people tend to tune out that sort of thing if it isn't too obvious. I've been in a few accidents and seen my share of violence. Animal bites and claws, burns, some knife wounds and fencing injuries. You want to see a real beauty, I'll show you where I fell through some stairs and got a piece of rebar through my side and out through my stomach. Odd thing, in a way your niece... if she is your niece... was responsible for that one."
Billie felt ill at the thought of an injury like that. "Jesus. I'm sorry I asked."
"Don't be. I've done the whole 'if I had to do it all over again' thing, and I would in a second, so I can't bitch about the bad side of things. Okay, can I take the samples?"
"Sure, what's a little spit?"
"Okay, I'm not medically qualified so I'm gonna have to work my way through a check list, might take a few minutes. Let me know if you think I'm doing anything wrong..."
Billie waited until Cordelia had gone, scribbled two pages of notes with a little difficulty, then got on the phone. "Hi, Tommy, this is Billie Newman. How did you get on with Angel Investigations?"
"Nothing. He wouldn't see me or talk to me."
"Okay... I was just visited by someone who says she works for them, name of Cordelia Chase. Ring any bells with you?"
"Early to mid twenties, about five six or seven, hazel eyes, brunette, tanned, California accent, beautiful figure? Has some sort of tattoo round her left wrist like a bracelet?"
"That's her."
"I've spoken to her a few times. Comes across as a total ditz, but if you try to get any information out of her she has some very creative ways of not answering. She works for Angel all right, think she's also done some modelling and advertising work. What about her?"
"She told me pretty much what Hoskins did, and that they were the ones that originally hired him. They're going to run the genetic tests again with another doctor. Now there was one interesting remark... she mentioned that she actually knows my alleged niece, and that she was once injured in an accident caused by her. Something about a fall that ended with a piece of rebar through her body."
"Ouch."
"I got the idea that the niece isn't from LA, or at least hasn't always lived here, and that Chase's accident happened some time ago, so see if you can find out where Chase comes from, and when and where that happened. Oh, and any other injuries, she has some odd scars on her arms and the explanation was a little vague."
"Still not for publication?"
"Not yet. She told me just enough to make me worry that premature publicity could put people's lives at risk."
"What the hell is going on there?"
"Damned if I know. Oh, one more thing. She says that they think that Zorro's surname is Holtz, ending Ell Tee Zee."
"How does she know that?" She could hear typing as she talked, guessed that he was sending queries to the Tribune's morgue.
"Says that he and Angel are old enemies. Something else you may be able to check."
"Christ, it's a small world."
"That or there are some really strange coincidences going on."
"That's not what I meant. Got a quick hit on Chase, you're gonna love this... social column mentions her as dating David Nabbit a couple of times a year or so ago."
"Our David Nabbit? David Nabbit who owns the Trib?"
"Says she doesn't see the relationship going anywhere because he's - and I quote - 'A total nerd.' end quote. That seems to be all we have on her at the paper, but I'll see what else I can scare up. Oh, the guys that tried to kidnap you... four so far have been defended by Wolfram and Hart and associated companies at least once, the others we don't know yet."
Billie ended the call and leafed through the magazines Cordelia had bought. Vogue, the New Yorker, Newsweek, the Weekly World News, Rolling Stone and Cosmopolitan. She snorted at the Weekly World News headlines "Lesbian Alien Witch Was Own Mother" and "Vampire Dies Giving Birth To Love-Child" and tossed it in the trash can, then started to read Newsweek.
After a few minutes she put the magazine to one side, called Nabbit, and asked him to arrange protection.
To Be Continued