Firestarter - Chapter 3
The first step was to find out just who Ace was. His records were transferred into Smoker's hands, and I spent that evening shuffling through his papers. I had no picture to work with, just a few descriptions of a freckled face, long and wavy black hair and a trademark cowboy hat. That was included in every witness statement.
And, in some cases, a tattoo that covered most of his back.
"Pirate symbol?" I chuckled, reading the description.
"Whitebeard's mark," Smoker said, passing my desk, "Don't laugh. It's an initiation thing."
My face burned with regret.
I had my own picture painted for him and sometimes, when I was off duty, buying a cup of coffee or running on the treadmill by the window in my cramped apartment watching passerby, I thought I saw him. My mind was getting bent and twisted around this case. I knew there was no way. Every black-haired boy I saw was a suspect, and I made it a goal to at least see their faces, hoping for freckles, a lax smile and narrowed eyes.
I imagined a hateful boy, full of sick with a glimmer of twisted.
"What's his goal, I wonder?" I looked up from my desk one day at Smoker, who only shrugged his shoulders.
"Whitebeard's goals," he answered, "And we never figured that one out. Get me a sandwich. Roast beef. Lotta cheese."
Course the investigation was only paused when Smoker's stomach interjected my research. I frowned and grabbed my coat.
We had artist's renditions of Ace, but nothing really fit with me. I imagined a nose a little more slender. I wider mouth. Slim eyes, thin lips. I felt like I already knew him. Like I'd seen him before. That was impossible, I know, but then I thought back to Fullbody, to Luffy, and wondered how in the world Luffy knew I wore glasses, or how he knew Fullbody was into putting bugs in his soup.
Ace's last known place of residence was the apartment building he set on fire. Pieces were starting to fall into place. I asked Smoker if maybe the apartment building fiasco was something Ace might have done without Whitebeard's nod, but Smoker was bent on assuming Ace acted the way Whitebeard wanted him to.
"We don't know when Ace got into contact with Whitebeard," I said, "It's possible it happened after the apartment fire."
"Hina said he's been working with him for a while." Smoker wouldn't even spare me a glance. He was absorbed in a map of the city. I stepped outside of his office, feeling like I'd stepped right into a dead end.
"Hey, pretty lady!"
Fullbody. I could've rolled my eyes, I was so frustrated.
"Hey--you look upset. Something on your mind?"
"Ace--"
"Ah, you need not say more."
This time, I rolled my eyes.
"C'mon. Let's get a drink." He nudged my shoulder. I started to walk away. I didn't feel like myself, I didn't feel like listening to him talk at the moment. I just wanted to find a lead. "Hey--" he followed my to my desk, "C'mon, Tashi, why not? We'll head down the Ace's old job, huh?"
I stopped.
"It's a warehouse down by the ocean. Place went outta business a month ago. They built ship parts, according to the report..." He said, offering a smile.
"When did you look at the report?" I hadn't gotten to that part yet.
"When you went to go pick up Smoker's Asiago sandwich. C'mon. Grab your coat, let's check it out."
I was already putting my arms throgh my sleeves. "Your squad car or mine?"
The place was rundown, and Fullbody and I poked out just long enough to know there was evidence of a fire. I was shooting in the dark, but it was probably a month ago. Right around the time the place shut down. No one was around, but there were ember marks around the side of the building. Inside, the place was empty, save for some plywood and a few bare desks in the back. The filing cabinets had nothing to offer, either.
"Dead end?" I turned to Fullbody.
"Nah," he said, sticking his hand in a desk drawer. "There's a business card here. The owner's name was...er..."
"Hmm?"
"Don Krieg?"
My eyes widened. "You mean, THE Don Krieg?"
"I don't know any other Don Krieg," Fullbody said, putting the business card down on the desk. "He was arrested for smuggling, wasn't he? Jesus..."
"Anonymous tipper helped us out. That was a year ago." I said, frowning as I flashed my light over the desk. "You think Krieg knows about Ace?"
"I dunno. He had a lotta people working in here, if you knew." Fullbody said, "Huge operation in here. I completely forgot this was the place."
A loud clank from the back of the warehouse threw us right around, pointing our flashlights in the dark. Nothing. Just plywood. I was holding my breath. "Hello?"
I wasn't expecting anyone to respond, really, but I thought I would try. I stepped forward, my flashlight darting left and right. Fullbody stayed near, his gun drawn. I almost was certain there would be no need, but another part of me was gripped with fear. This was a big place, and once upon a time, a dangerous place. "Hello?"
"Don't shoot." A voice came from the dark and I nearly bumped backwards into Fullbody. I touched my gun. "Don't shoot, look, I'm just picking up some stuff..." My flashlight fell on a dark man. He looked homeless--his face was covered with whiskers, his eyes were sunken and dark, and he looked like he hadn't eaten in days. Fullbody put his gun up, but the guy had his hands raised to the ceiling. "I'm just picking up some stuff," he said again, his eyes on Fullbody. "Just passing through."
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I asked, keeping the light steady.
He squinted at me and licked his lips. "My name's Gin. I'm just picking up some stuff."