I don't know what to work on, this or the advent calendar story! So many ideas!
Reticulum - a net, or crosshairs.
In which one learns to aim for the stars. And stars teach that sometimes they aim back.
Chapter 02
Into the Crosshairs
On the next morning after the fateful day when they learned of Anna's death, Bane sat Helena down in his living room and started an in-depth questioning.
Each and every person at the Easter table was carefully investigated and scrutinised, all findings noted in meticulous detail, and pinned to the wall outside Bane's bedroom. Out of sight of prying eyes, but readily available for him or Helena, if she chose to add any information she previously omitted.
As it turned out Bane, as it was, knew an insane amount of details about Helena's life, and by extension her friends. But there were blanks, all the more noticeable for his experienced and brilliant mind.
"So, Lucy and Tom, you've never met them before."
"That's right. And I didn't really talk much with any of them during the brunch. Tom mentioned he's working on a novel about living out in the woods. A 'Walden' of sorts, I think? Lucy was too far away, and since they came late and then the whole ordeal with Anna began I didn't have an opportunity to engage any of them properly."
"He's been truthful about his occupation, but she has some interesting things in her resume," Bane commented, but ignored Helena curious gaze and moved on with his questions. "Next, our thespian," he spat the last word with distaste. "What do we know of Alex? Of course there is a trove of information on his personal life online." He clicked his teeth and winked to snickering Helena. "But we need something less common and more substantial."
"He's gay," Helena supplied. "All those rumours of dates with models and fellow actresses is just publicity. He wants to build his fanbase as wide as he can."
"Indeed?" this time Bane's tone in voice was unusually gleeful.
A small smile graced Helena's lips.
"Were you jealous of him?"
"That scrawny little pest? Of course not," he replied with a derisive snort.
"Of course not," the scribe mocked. "Who's next?"
"Magnus."
"Met him for the first time, but Grace and Graham mentioned the boy frequently. He's from a very low-income family, a single parent I think. Grace mentioned something about a very old acquaintance. They finance his studies, which basically means they pay his monthly expenses. I don't know the details."
"Perhaps they would like to correct an aspect of this society that isn't to their liking."
"What do you mean?"
"You may remember I noticed that the brunch was like a scene from a novel. Let's talk about our gracious hosts. Both are over their sixties. There is a longing there, a nostalgia for what had been. They're playing bridge. No one plays bridge anymore."
"They're charming people," Helena argued. She knew them for years now, and always could rely on Grace's motherly advice or Graham's generous hand with alcohol.
"Did you know that Graham was a high ranking officer in CIA?"
"I thought he was some kind of retired chemistry professor."
"He is. A person can be more than one thing."
"None of them ever mentioned anything of the sort. Do you think Grace knows?"
"She disabled perimeter detectors that day when she came to invite us to brunch."
The information visibly shook the scribe.
"You have that kind of security?" she gasped.
"We have," Bane corrected pointedly. "And I've replaced them and changed the pattern to something she wouldn't know. added some new toys as well," he murmured the last part tapping a finger to his lips pensively.
"Oh, my."
"You thought Grace was just a homemaker."
"When they lived here we visited each other very frequently. She had never been anything other than friendly, pleasant and appropriate. She does charity work, and has some innocent pastimes."
"Did you ever take her to the shooting range?"
"No. I go alone. For a while, I used to go with a friend, but it was only because I met him there already."
That piece information caught Bane's attention enough to make him swirl around to face Helena again.
"Who?"
"Weren't we supposed to talk about people at the brunch?"
His eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly let go.
"We'll get to that later, then. So, Grace and Graham are a veritable mystery to you. Our friendly policeman and his family, do they have any secrets or peculiarities?"
"Tirill works with Anna at the school. And they both have tried to convince me to start calligraphy workshops for kids. Jack is mostly out in Oslo, studying. When she comes on weekends, we sometimes see each other at Hanson's, but that's that. "
"You didn't mention anything about Knut."
"Nothing to say. How did you know him?"
"We met when I first came here to buy the land, and then when I was building cottages."
"Did he see you without the mask back then?"
"Yes."
"That's wonderful."
"I'm glad you're happy about it. "
"No, I'm serious. Look, that story about you studying in Hong Kong and then working as an antique dealer, and now making the people here know and remember you before Gotham! It's the best cover!"
"Most of that was true." The sofa dipped when he sat down with a small grunt. "The point of our little exercise here is to sow the oats of the official facade, and get to the truth underneath."
The remainder was sobering. It was just as Bane said. The truth could be hidden beneath what was apparent and ostensibly obvious. Even though he was an astrophysicist and a historian he also was a terrorist and a killer.
"Who do we have left?" she asked with a tired sigh.
"Sven and Anna."
The spite in Bane's words reminded Helena of his terse exchange with the medic at the brunch.
"What do you have against my good doctor?"
"Nothing. What gave you the idea I have anything against the man?"
"Dorrance, you said to him. Not Tony, like you introduced yourself to others. Why single him out?"
"Alex and Magnus also didn't get to call me by my first name."
"Oh, but Lucy did feel right at home calling you Tony," she pointed out.
"I didn't notice."
"Right."
Bane hid a satisfied curl of his lips.
"Is there anything at all you think is relevant regarding Anna or her father?"
"You know, I always thought she was a tad closer to Graham than Grace. It was subtle but seemed like whenever I visited she was keeping close to him. Nothing overt. Maybe it was because Grace is such good friends with Sven. Come to think of it, I would not be too fond of listening to my parents' chit-chat, so that's probably it."
"Probably."
"Why are you asking me all those questions?"
"I told you. One of the guests at the brunch may have been a killer. I won't stand to have someone like that near you."
"Is that all? You're wasting your time and considerable mind power to maybe find a perpetrator of a possible crime. Because as far as I know, it was an accident, wasn't it? Listen, time is the most precious of resources. We all have a finite amount of it. Even the most brilliant of geniuses," she sent him a pointed look, "has the same twenty-four hours in a day, as we all do. You could leave the police work to the police, and focus on your dark matter or whatnot."
"Dark waves," he corrected gruffly. "Let's consider this my hobby."
"An escape from the tedious day job?" She laughed.
"Something like that." Bane gathered her close, and kissed her temple, then hid his nose behind her ear and inhaled the fragrance of her hair deeply. "It will help me stay calm."
Helena couldn't argue with that.
oOo
On Wednesday Helena went out with Bane as he was leaving for his pilates class. She had a date with Grace right after and needed to do some shopping in the free hour she'd get before the class ended. Then it was an afternoon of helping with the funeral affairs, the notices, the flower arrangements, the musicians. All that tedious and costly work that needed to be done, but no one ever wanted to actually take care of.
And then there was the prospect of a visit to the chapel, to seal the casket after a short ceremony for the closest family.
In the church there was only Sven, sobbing quietly on Grace's shoulder. Helena was standing awkwardly beside them feeling like a third wheel. The doctor left some trinkets on Anna's chest, and both women put in a simple rose each, and then it was done. The scribe didn't even listen to the priest, the prayers foreign to her not only because of the language but also because she felt them unnecessary.
She remembered when she thought that Bane and Dorrance were both dead, back when she didn't know she was actually mourning one person. The trips to the sea were her prayers, steely sky and stormy sea her church, cold sand under her feet was her pew. The wind howled a requiem every day, and the vastness of the water reflected how empty she felt. Everything was hidden beneath the waves, and the surface looked as if no life was there. Only different brands of emptiness.
Grace's palm at her shoulder brought Helena out of her musings, and she sent a pale grimace resembling a smile Sven's way. He nodded and left with the priest, while Grace hooked her arm with Helena's and started the opposite direction, out the main entrance and into her car.
Drive to Helena's cottage was mostly silent.
"She was so young," Grace said while waiting for the lights to change.
Helena looked over and saw that the older woman's eyes were glued to a pair of people sitting on a bench. They were kissing. Despite the cold, the girl had a simple dress on, and the boy didn't have a proper coat. But they looked comfortable and happy.
"Reckless," Grace added.
Helena observed her when the light changed, and the car moved obediently forward under the experienced touch.
"Why do you say that?"
"Say what?"
"That Anna was reckless. She seemed pretty dull to me, actually."
"She had her little secrets. Still wet behind the ears, but thought she was an old dog."
The comment was angry. Unusual and uncharacteristic, especially since both women always seemed to get along just fine.
"Don't we all have our mysteries? The undisclosed desires and actions under wraps?"
"I guess we all do. Sorry, I'm still shaken."
"I understand, don't worry." There was still some five minutes of the drive ahead, and Helena would hate to part on a sour note. "You have a lot on your plate, especially with how much you help out Sven."
"Thank you, darling," Grace sighed. "To be honest, I'm worried about the clinic. Sven needs someone to cover for Anna until we find a full-time replacement, and we can't have the girls at the reception desk doing overtime for a month. But he doesn't feel like recruiting now, and who can blame him?"
"I could help out," Helena offered. "Not like I have anything better to do anyway. Small commissions won't be taking too much of my time, and I can spare few hours every day to help."
"Would you really?" Grace perked up. "Oh, that would be wonderful!"
"Sure, let's get over the details after the funeral. I'll be able to start next Tuesday."
"We have the schedule fixed until the end of the month, but I'll be sure to ask if any of the girls would like to change her hours. And you could start a regular shift in May, just four or six hours a day, until we find someone."
"Sure thing."
Grace stopped by Bane's cottage at Helena's request and refused to go in for a cup of tea, excusing herself with her tiredness. Maybe it was for the better, the scribe thought, seeing how absorbed Bane was with his notes. She let herself in through the main entrance, the one either of them rarely used, which left her approaching Bane from the corridor. He was sitting with his back to her, fireplace blazing, a cup of tea on the table in front of him, along with some loose sheets of paper. He was scribbling something but stopped as soon as he felt Helena's palm slide over his shoulders.
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
"Not yet. Did you wait with dinner?"
"I did."
"That's nice," she said.
Bane dropped his papers to the side when she circled the sofa and climbed on his lap. His lips stretched in an amused warm smile when Helena nuzzled the side of his neck, the sensation pleasantly tingling.
"Your nose is cold."
"I'm warm someplace else, wanna check?"
"Perhaps later."
"What are you working on?"
"My hobby."
She chuckled into his arm and straightened with a resigned sigh.
"You're incorrigible. Obsessed with a problem until it's picked apart and explained in its entirety."
"That's… An accurate characteristic," he admitted begrudgingly.
"Grace is very similar to you in that regard. She is so absorbed into the funeral arrangements she even started organising Sven's clinic."
"Did she?"
"Mhm. What's for dinner?" She slid away and went towards the kitchen, stretching arms over her back with a slight gasp.
"I've made curry. Rice is warm in the cooker."
Bane sat at the counter, watching Helena wash her hands, then ladle out the meal.
"So what's with the clinic, why does it need organising?"
"Anna used to help out at the reception desk, so now the rest of the girls have to juggle overtime to cover for her absence. I offered to help."
"Indeed?"
Helena set the bowls on the table and slid out the cutlery drawer without looking.
"Grace was so tired with all the stuff she does, and then she started telling me how they have to find someone to take Anna's place. And of course, Sven is in no state to hire anyone at this point. So she said they had to find a way to fill the gap, but it is straining everyone, and she worried so much about it."
"Did she say 'we' while talking about the clinic?" Bane asked before tucking into his meal.
"Several times." The spoon stilled midway to Helena's mouth, and she set in back in the bowl after a second. "Why?"
"She's not working there. Nor is she an owner."
"So what gives her the impulse, or the right to treat clinic affairs as her own?"
"As her's and Sven's."
"They are pretty close."
"Too close?"
"Hard to say."
"Worth a check," Bane said in the end.
"But not tonight," Helena cautioned. "I require your assistance."
Bane compiled, and let Helena snuggle with him on the couch watching a movie on Netflix.
But he was scribbling in his notes again when she left, barely raising his head when she said goodnight and lowered over him for a parting kiss.
oOo
The door opened almost noiselessly, the only sound disturbing the tranquillity of the living room was the seal hissing slightly when the door detached from the frame and a single squeal of the hinges. Helena expected to see Bane in the kitchen or reading on the sofa, but the whole room was dark.
"Hey, what's for dinner?" she yelled towards the corridor. "You missed the lunch hours, so it's dinner time already!"
Perhaps he was asleep? Lately, he did have a habit of grabbing a few hours of sleep during the day. Helena knew it was because he could barely catch any rest at night, so she didn't comment on that. Good thing he could get some respite at all.
She walked cautiously down the corridor, making sure she was as noisy as possible.
"Are you in your bedroom?" she asked, the smile on her face transported in her voice. "If you are there won't be any more sleeping, you know that?"
She stopped just outside his door. Open. The bed was made and seemingly untouched, and the room looked neat and ordinary as ever.
Helena frowned, looking around to see if anything at all was out of place. But no, save for the bizarre display just beyond the entrance it all seemed perfectly normal.
With a sigh she neared the wall in the corridor, transferred by Bane into a repositorium of his knowledge over people present at the brunch. The information she offered was put down on the paper, the notes much more extensive than she first realised. He had researched those people in depth, and she wondered when and why. Certainly, she never told him when Magnus's birthday was, and yet that date was on a sheet of paper dedicated to the man, along with a picture of him, and even more notes. His family history, his education? Ties to Hanson's and other people at the table?
How did Bane know all that?
She inspected the papers, amazed at the intricate details and the insane attention to any possible links at all. There even was a sketch of the table itself, with the placement of guests and pencilled in numbers. Helena had five and nine, Bane eleven and ten.
She wondered, what did it all mean?
The silence of the cottage felt oppressive all of a sudden. There was no one there. Only the wind blew at the wooden and concrete structure, making the roof moan slightly as it always did. It never bothered Helena before, but today it felt ominous. Foreboding.
Bane was nowhere in sight.
Just to make sure, she inspected every nook and cranny, even those which she rarely visited. The boiler room, bathroom and toilet, laundry room and pantry. Last was Bane's study, converted from the old dining room, which he used mostly as a storage space for books and papers. Helena barely saw him work there, he mostly just sat in the living room. At least he did that whenever she was home with him.
There was no note anywhere, not in the kitchen, nor in her room, so with a shaky sigh she sat down by the dark fireplace and took out her phone.
No messages there either.
Bane was under 'ICE Dorrance, Tony 3' and she felt a pang of resentment that even in her own smartphone she couldn't just call him by his real name. But it was out of the question, and she understood of course. Still, it didn't feel right.
When she dialled up, she heard the worst possible answer.
"The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later."
At that moment fear gripped her so harshly, Helena felt her chest tighten.
What could have happened to him?
As always, review replies here.
Sxevlbtch - I hope this chapter didn't disappoint and at least matched your expectations!
Guest - Well... I am big on happy endings myself. However, there is a journey to get there. I hope you'll enjoy the ride. :)
Taxaceae - Woohoo indeed! :D I'm so happy to be back with Helena, Bane and you all!