Chapter Four

Nesbitt growled, slumping over the table as he dug a hand into his hair. The blueprints were starting to blur before his eyes and he was getting nowhere. No matter how he looked at it, penguin-themed rides were not doing it for him. Crump had tried to interest him with a speed ride based on the Penguin Torpedo card, but try as he might, Nesbitt could not see a torpedo shaped like a penguin as being anything other than ridiculous. It was a poor substitute for the majestic and powerful ships and submarines he had once designed for the original KaibaCorp.

Submarines . . . hmm. . . .

He bent over the paper again, quickly sketching out a rough draft of a concept. What if they had an actual, mini-submarine in the park that could take people underwater to watch penguins diving and swimming from a whole new viewpoint? It was still a step down from his childhood dreams, but it was several steps up from penguin torpedoes and other such nonsense. At least it was something he could construct with some pride.

He looked up when it was done, leaning back in the chair. Crump and Johnson were both still asleep. Gansley might be as well; he wasn't feeling well after that harsh blow to the head. They had all stayed awake all night, alternating checking on him. Come morning, Lector was exhausted but too tense to sleep, so he had gone for a walk and still wasn't back. Maybe he had just gone on home. On the other hand, maybe something else had gone wrong.

Frowning, Nesbitt took out his phone and looked at the screen. There were no calls or text messages. Opting to take matters into his own hands, Nesbitt quickly tapped out a text.

You've been gone a long time.

He set the phone to the side of his paper as he waited for a reply. He had only barely started to touch his sketch up with details when the answering message came in.

I'm sorry, it's complicated. Is Gansley worse?

Nesbitt scowled. No explanation of his whereabouts, but always with the Southern manners.

Oh well, Gansley should be checked again anyway. Nesbitt took his phone and headed upstairs to look.

Gansley was half-awake when he pushed the door open. "What's going on?" he mumbled.

"I don't know," Nesbitt grunted. "Lector went for a walk and it sounds like he ran into trouble. Are you feeling any better?"

"Some." Gansley started to rise up, then decided against it for the moment and slumped into the pillow instead.

Nesbitt typed his reply.

No.

He could be vague too, he thought with a faint smirk.

That, however, did not make Lector's reply any less maddening.

That's good. I'm sorry I'm not there. I'll be back hopefully soon and then I'll explain.

Nesbitt shoved the phone back in his pocket. "I might've had better luck if I'd called him outright," he grumbled.

Gansley gave a weary smirk. "Not if he wasn't in a position to talk at the time." He had heard variations of this complaint before, so despite not knowing the contents of the texts, it wasn't really a surprise now.

Nesbitt rolled his eyes.

xxxx

Seto was not in a good mood. The snow had only barely started, according to Lector, so it couldn't have erased all traces of footprints outside the window. And Velma insisted that she had been in the hall ever since Hobson had gone into the library. He couldn't have come back out through the mansion without her seeing. So that left a very bizarre situation in which the strange little man had literally vanished without a trace and absolutely no explanation.

At least Mokuba was alright. Seto had immediately called him and learned that he and Marik were on their way back from talking to Alister. Mokuba had explained the apparent frame and had begged Seto to help him prove Alister's innocence. Seto was not pleased, but he had agreed.

Lector looked very tense as Seto hung up. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "Who is it Mokuba suspected and went to see?"

"Someone who hates war," Seto replied. "It looks like someone is deliberately framing him for what's happening to you and the others."

"Are you so sure it's just a frame?" Lector frowned.

"Fairly sure." Seto looked to him. "Strange, isn't it? Hobson seems to be involved, which could make me a suspect. Now they try to make it look like this other man is mixed up in it as well."

"But why?!" Lector burst out. "Why would they want to cast suspicion on people who don't have anything to do with this?! And why would your butler be involved anyway?!"

"You can bet I'm going to ask him when we find him," Seto growled.

xxxx

Yami Bakura watched as Bakura draped a garland along the wall above the living room couch. "Is that the last one?" he grunted.

"Except for the ones on the tree," Bakura playfully retorted while reaching into the decoration box on the couch. He took out a golden garland and started stringing it around the Christmas tree that had been set up facing their corner windows. "Won't you help, Yami?"

Yami Bakura grunted. "Exactly what am I supposed to do?"

"Pick something out of the box," Bakura said. "Anything! Then just bring it to the tree."

Yami Bakura shrugged and selected a blue ball ornament. He hung it on a branch near him and watched Bakura continue to hang the garland. After a moment, half-curious, half-starting to enjoy himself, he took another ornament and placed it on the tree as well.

Bakura smiled. It was a strange experience for the old thief. They had decorated a tree last year as well, and Yami Bakura had been even grouchier then, at least at first. Eventually he had caught the spirit and started to enjoy it, as he was now.

"We need to go Christmas shopping soon," Bakura said.

"Getting things for everyone will be costly," Yami Bakura pointed out.

"Well . . ." Bakura's eyes twinkled. "I was just going to get crafting supplies. I'm going to carve gifts for everyone."

Now Yami Bakura perked up. "You're going to start woodworking again?"

Bakura nodded. "It seems like the right time. And if this turns out well, I thought I might try taking it up as a craft for work and selling pieces online."

Yami Bakura nodded in approval. "You're very talented. You should be able to make some decent money that way."

"I certainly hope so, at least," Bakura said. "And you were looking at some survey panels, weren't you, Yami?"

Yami Bakura looked away and shoved another ornament on the tree. "It was just a thought," he said. "You took that survey you saw on that website and they gave you ten dollars for it. And you said there are places that will keep paying you to keep taking their surveys."

"They do," Bakura said. "Of course, you have to be careful to weed out the legitimate panels from the scams. And . . . I'm not sure you'd like some of the questions they might ask. . . ."

"Like what?" Yami Bakura turned back.

"Well, you'd have to give a birthdate on most, if not all, surveys," Bakura said. "Or your age. I suppose you'd have to do what you did with your driver's license and other papers and say you're around 21. You said your birthday is on what's October 25th in modern times."

"Which, oddly enough, is also Kaiba's birthday," Yami Bakura grunted. "You're right, I wouldn't like having to answer that on surveys. Do they ask other prying questions?"

"Most surveys ask you what you think about certain products or media," Bakura said. "But some ask about pets or politics or travel. . . ."

Yami Bakura sneered. "I could give them an earful about politics."

"I'm sure you could," Bakura ruefully chuckled.

Oreo meowed and batted an ornament across the couch.

"And I'm sure we could both take some interesting surveys about pets," Yami Bakura remarked.

Bakura laughed.

Movement outside the window caught Yami Bakura's eye and he turned to look. "What on Earth. . . ."

Surprised, Bakura picked up Oreo and turned to look as well. "Isn't that Kaiba's butler? Whatever is he doing over here?!"

Indeed, Hobson was walking up the snowy street in complete determination. When he turned up the walkway to the Bakura house, Yami Bakura was ready. He went over and threw the door open. "What brings you here?" he asked.

Hobson looked to him, his eyes hidden behind the ever-present dark glasses. "I'm just here delivering a message." He held out a manilla envelope, which Yami Bakura took and opened. As with Lector's, the only thing inside was a single sheet of paper.

YOU HAVE NOT BEEN FORGIVEN.

PREPARE TO PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES.

Yami Bakura dropped the paper to the porch and grabbed Hobson. "What is this?!" he demanded. "You can't get me to believe that Seto Kaiba sent this!"

"Yami, what is it?!" Bakura hurried over, still holding Oreo. When he caught sight of the paper, he gasped.

"I never said Seto Kaiba sent it," Hobson replied. His glasses slipped down his face, revealing eyes that looked dead.

Yami Bakura rocked back in disbelief. "What . . ."

In the next moment, Hobson completely vanished from his grasp.

Oreo yowled.

"Oh my," Bakura gasped. "Whatever is going on?!"

Yami Bakura bent and picked up the now-damp paper and the envelope. "I don't know, but we're going to find out," he snarled. "What's Kaiba's number?"

xxxx

Seto was also in disbelief when he took Yami Bakura's phone call moments later. "What do you mean, Hobson's eyes looked dead?" he burst out.

"They looked soulless, as the Big Four's eyes did after Dr. Portman revived them without their souls," Yami Bakura replied. "Alternately, he could have been mind-controlled."

Seto's expression contorted in frustration. There always had to be something paranormal going on. "And he disappeared right while you were holding on to him?!"

"Bakura saw it too," Yami Bakura growled. "It happened."

Seto raised a hand to his forehead. This day was more overwhelming by the minute. "Hobson seems to be at the center of a threatening plot against the Big Five," he said. "And now you're part of the mix." Suddenly he went stiff. "Oh no. That woman, Dr. Portman! Lector said she was after me and you both. What's happening now could be part of that plot!"

"I don't deny that could be true, but would she be able to mind-control Hobson?" Yami Bakura flatly asked.

"You're asking me?" Seto snorted. "I don't know who can do what anymore. But are you sure he couldn't have simply been drugged?"

". . . That's possible," Yami Bakura conceded. Odd, how he automatically thought of paranormal explanations while Seto still tried to think of other possibilities to begin with. "But considering he vanished while I was holding him, and his appearance wasn't simply a hallucination, someone with magical abilities must be involved. I'm quite sure Dr. Portman does not fall into that category."

"Me too," Seto groaned.

"You know what else?" Bakura said in the background. "I think it's time to get the whole gang together to talk about this."

Seto was not pleased. "Enough people are mixed up in this already," he retorted. "There's also an apparent plot to frame Alister for this mess with the Big Five."

Bakura came forward and leaned into the phone. "I know you don't want the others to get hurt," he said. "I felt the same way whenever I had a problem. But they'll want to help. And maybe with more people working on the problem, we'll figure it out much sooner."

"Not just that, but you realize they'll probably end up involved sooner or later anyway," Yami Bakura pointed out.

"Ugh." Seto slumped back. "Alright. Call them and come over."

"We'll all be there!" Bakura promised.

xxxx

Everyone was very concerned and disturbed by the news, of course, and naturally, as Bakura knew, they were all ready and willing to help solve the case.

"What the heck's going on around here?!" Joey cried as he and the others alternately climbed into Solomon's truck and Duke's car for a drive to Kaiba Manor. "Everything's all peaceful and quiet for a month and then suddenly everything goes kablooey!"

"You're really surprised?" Duke grunted. "I'm only surprised things didn't go wrong sooner."

"And this is totally nuts!" Joey ranted on. "Kaiba getting framed makes sense, but Alister? Why'd they drag him into it?! And Yami Bakura?!"

"Dr. Portman did want to hurt both Kaiba and Yami Bakura, Joey," Yugi said in concern. "But I don't understand framing Alister either, unless it's just because they figured he would make a good target."

"I'll go pick up Téa and Serenity from work," Duke volunteered.

Joey scowled. "Serenity doesn't have to come!"

"She'll want to," Duke countered. "And I'll bet Mai would like to help out too."

That didn't lighten Joey's mood. "I don't wanna put Mai in danger. . . ."

"But I'm sure Mai would like to feel involved," Atem said. "She may feel hurt if we keep excluding her. Let's go talk to her, Joey."

Joey gave a heavy sigh. "Okay."

xxxx

Mai was in the living room of the house she had bought, looking through her cards for what seemed the umpteenth time. The tournament was going to be held soon and she had to be ready. Of course, she had been telling herself that for weeks. And no matter how many times she got out her cards and looked through them and tried to affirm to herself that she had picked the right ones for her new deck, she still suffered with doubts.

She wasn't well-liked by tournament-goers or even by the other Duelists. At least, she hadn't been in the past. The mocking words she had heard from people during the small tournaments after Battle City still rang through her mind.

"She's nothing . . . a nobody. . . ."

"She came in, like, 8th place at Duelist Kingdom."

"Wow, now I feel silly for losing to her."

Mai glared at the table. Her self-confidence had always been low, really. She tried to be strong, and brave, but it was all just an act, a front. Yami Marik had exposed that and left the real her vulnerable and bare, prey to all of his cruel psychological torture. He had broken her, and even though Joey and the others had tried their best to mend her heart and soul, traces of the damage were still there.

Well, one thing she knew for sure: she wasn't alone. Joey and Yugi and Atem and Serenity and Téa and everyone else were all in her corner. And that was more than enough reason for her to be able to find the bravery and the fighting spirit within herself again. They knew she had it. Maybe someday, with their belief in her, she would be able to reclaim that belief for herself.

The ringing of the doorbell startled her and the cards she was starting to gather in her hands fell back to the table. "I'm coming!" she called, wondering who on Earth was coming out to visit her on such a snowy day. Maybe Joey wanted to see if she would make snow characters with him or something. She had to smirk at the thought.

"Joey, Yugi, everyone," she gasped in surprise when she opened the door.

"Hey, Mai," Joey greeted, and everyone else followed suit. "How're you doing?"

"Oh . . . just getting ready for the tournament." She smirked and winked at him. "And you'd better watch out, Buster, because I have some new cards this round."

"Me too!" Joey grinned. "Man, it'll be awesome if we face each other!" Tristan elbowed him and he sighed, his excitement fading. "But . . . uh . . . this isn't exactly a social call."

"I kind of wondered," Mai admitted. "So what's up?"

"I'm afraid it's trouble, Mai," Atem said. "Someone is threatening the Big Five and trying to implicate several different people."

"You don't think they'll implicate me?" Mai blinked in surprise. She hadn't been thrilled when Joey had come to tell her about the Big Five being out of their comas, but when he had said they were trying to restart their lives she had let it go. After all, who was she to deny anyone their chance for redemption?

"I don't know what's gonna happen!" Joey exclaimed. "Kaiba's butler is delivering threatening notes and disappearing into thin air! Someone's throwing bombs and framing Alister for it!"

"And Yami Bakura's been targeted too," Tristan added.

"We're all going out to Kaiba Manor to talk about things in detail with Kaiba," Yugi said.

Mai perked up. "Then I'm in," she declared. "I'll get my Duel Disk and come with you."

"Duel Disk?" Yugi blinked.

"Hey, around here, you never know when you might have to duel to save the world," Mai said, and no one could disagree.

xxxx

Crump was still exhausted when he woke up. It had been a long and concerning and confusing night, and what little sleep he had gotten hadn't been particularly restful. He grumbled to himself, looking at the digital clock through half-open eyes. Then he snapped awake. "Oh brother! It's that late?!"

He leaped out of bed. Was Gansley feeling any better? Were the others still checking on him? And what about Cora? What mischief was she up to today? He really shouldn't have let himself sleep so long.

As he hurried into the hallway, everything seemed eerily quiet. Maybe everyone else was asleep. Or for all he knew, maybe Cora's mysterious friend had cracked them all on the head and left them scattered all over the place. It was downright creepy, to think that someone capable of and willing to assault his friends was running loose in the house and might even be working there. If he was paying a creep like that, he sure didn't want to pay them any more.

The floor creaked down the hall and he turned with a start. Nesbitt had just gone into one of the empty guest rooms. Confused, Crump followed him through the open doorway and watched as he opened a closet and set what looked like a dark fedora on one of the shelves.

"Hey, what the heck are you doing, Nesbitt?" Crump asked. "I thought you didn't like hats."

Nesbitt started and turned. "What? Oh. I don't." He frowned. "Lector's the only one of us who goes in for them. You know that."

"Then what were you doing with that hat?" Crump persisted. "I don't think this room's even been occupied since some businessman dropped in to visit during a convention. He must've forgot to take his hat with him."

Nesbitt stared at the shelf, his expression completely blank. "I honestly don't know what I was doing." He turned away with a jerk. "Anyway, that's hardly important."

"Yeah, I guess." Crump frowned. Something was very weird here. And when the carpet caught his eyes, he discovered something even weirder. The dark spots all along the way said loud and clear that Nesbitt had just tracked in snow from outside. "Why's the floor wet?!"

Nesbitt stared down at the carpet. "I have no idea. I've been downstairs in the living room all morning, except for when I went to check on Gansley."

Crump's jaw dropped. "Are you crazy?! You just left these wet footprints all over the place!"

Nesbitt looked back to him. "I couldn't have. I haven't been outside."

The most logical explanation was that he was lying through his teeth. But as Crump stared at him, he really wasn't sure of that explanation at all. It would be ridiculous to lie when the proof was right here. All they had to do was look at Nesbitt's shoes. And from Nesbitt's blank eyes, Crump had the horribly eerie feeling that Nesbitt honestly thought he was telling the truth.

"What's wrong with you?" Crump gasped.

"Nothing!" Nesbitt snapped. "It was Gansley who was hurt. Remember?" And he stormed down the hall, leaving Crump gaping after him.