Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.
'The Museum' is a short story set in my Ghost Detective universe set during the last days of 'The Junkyard' while Duo and Heero are still out of town, and at the beginning of 'The Piano'. Hope you enjoy!
The Museum
Chapter 6
"Are you clairvoyant, Doctor Snyder? I haven't even had a chance to ring the bell yet." Bonaparte greeted the museum's director as he unlocked the main entrance to let him in. His deputy had dropped him off only a few moments earlier, before heading back to the station on his orders.
"Sheriff." Snyder gave a polite nod and a soft smile. "Actually I was just on my way out to make a phone call." He gestured at the cell phone in his hand. It was about 7:30 in the morning and most of the staff had yet to arrive. "I was going to call Brandon, our intern, and ask him to pick up some coffee on his way in. Would you like some, too?"
"Don't mind if I do," the sheriff nodded. "On second thought. Have him bring a few extra cups if you would. The gods of forensics will be here soon, and I'm sure they will appreciate an offering in the form of caffeine."
The director's smile grew a little wider. "If your team helps to find my mummy I will be more than happy to personally make those offerings. Excuse me."
While Snyder stepped outside to pick up reception for his cell phone, the sheriff waited in the lobby. By the time the director returned he was flipping through one of the museums brochures.
"I assume you want me to re-open the Egyptian hall for you and your men?"
"That would be helpful." Bonaparte followed the other man upstairs. "Say are you always working this early?"
Snyder shrugged. "It depends. Right now I have several projects I'm working on, and I would like to finish what I can while I'm still here."
"You are thinking of leaving?"
"Not by choice. As far as I'm concerned I could be happy at this post until my retirement. But after what happened the board of directors might have other plans for my future."
"You think they will be holding you personally responsible for the thefts? That would be a bit harsh, wouldn't it?"
"Well, we will see." Dr. Snyder swiped his keycard through the security lock, opening the doors to the exhibition hall. "Unless you need me, Sheriff, I'll be in my office making some phone calls. I left a message at the Northwood clinic last night, regarding the Cat scan unit, but I still have to follow up to see if it is available."
"Talking of phone calls. According to my deputy, the phone at the station has been ringing off the hook; mostly reporters inquiring about the break in."
"That would be my fault, I'm afraid," the director admitted. "I have been referring anyone from the press to you, because I wasn't sure how much of this case you wanted to make public."
"Good thinking," Bonaparte nodded. "Which reminds me. I meant to ask... How many people know about that missing mummy?"
"Hmm..." Snyder considered it for a moment. "Only the people who were here when we discovered it last night, I would say."
"And your intern."
"Brandon?! No...no I only told him to lock up and make sure the room stays closed until the police came back in the morning. And I didn't tell anyone else about it either. In fact I still have to get in touch with Dr. Hardinger from the Museum of History."
"Excellent. Let's keep it that way, for now at least," the sheriff suggested. "The fewer people who know, the better. As long as the perpetrator doesn't know the switch has been discovered he will feel safe."
"I'm all for that. But what about Professor Khushrenada and his Junior G-men?"
"No worries there." Bonaparte chuckled. "I've already called and sworn them to secrecy. I do realize they seem like an odd bunch, but they have helped in solving a number of old crimes already," the sheriff explained. "Including a murder that had been cold for a century and the disappearance and death of two local college kids in the 70s."
"Ah, yes I think I read about that case in the newspaper a while back. Where exactly do they get their information?"
"I don't have the slightest idea." The older man spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "And to tell the truth, sometimes I'm not sure I really want to know. Well, in any case... Could you let me know when Doctor Hazzir gets here? There is something I need to talk to him about."
"Oh, he is already here. You will probably find him in his office or in one of the research labs. He was going to take a look at a couple of items the museum acquired recently from a private donor."
###
"Doctor Hazzir?!"
The tall, dark-haired man snapped around, apparently surprised by the sheriff's voice. A polite smile formed on his lips. "Sheriff, you startled me."
"I'm sorry. That was not my intention. I have been looking for you."
"Oh?" Hazzir turned to close the door he had just emerged from. "What can I do for you?"
"We need to talk. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Umm...It's about the theft, yes? I promised Doctor Snyder to authenticate several artifacts for him, but that can wait I suppose. Should we go to my office? We will be more comfortable."
Sheriff Bonaparte was about to agree when a sound, akin to something hitting the floor, interrupted him.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"Didn't you hear it; the noise just now?" The sheriff was sure it had come from inside the room he archaeologist had just left.
Hazzir shook his head. "I did not hear anything."
He was obviously lying. A dozen red flags went off in Bonaparte's head.
"Where does this door lead?" he demanded.
The other man gave a vague shrug. "Just a basement storage room."
"Is anybody down there?"
"I don't believe so."
"But you just were down there. How can you now know for sure?"
"I didn't see anything," Hazzir replied evasively.
The sheriff's brows narrowed. "Well then, let's check it out, shall we?"
"You can't!"
"I can't? Why is that?"
"The light...it is broken...everything is dark downstairs," the archaeologist told him. "That's why I came back up...to see Doctor Snyder and tell him."
"Oh well, that's not really a problem." Bonaparte replied as he pulled his flashlight from his belt and flicked it on. "See."
"Sheriff, there you are?!"
Just as he reached for the door handle Doctor Snyder called out to him, and the sheriff turned his head.
"Do you need me, Dr?"
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that the Northwood hospital will send the portable CAT scan unit over this afternoon." Snyder threw a look at Dr. Hazzir, apparently unsure how much he should say in front of his Egyptian colleague, then opted for a ambiguous. "You remember, for those tests I was telling you about...?"
"Ah yes. This afternoon...that should be fine. I'm quite sure the forensic team will be done by then. Oh, by the way...Dr. Hazzir was about to come to see you. Apparently the light in your basement isn't working?"
"Oh? That's strange. It was working just fine yesterday. Well, it's probably just the light bulb." Snyder sighed. "I'm not sure why we are wasting money on those so-called long lasting lights when they burn out after only a few weeks."
"What's down there anyway?" The sheriff wanted to know.
"Nothing really. Just empty boxes for the most part. Isn't that right?" The director gave Dr. Hazzir a questioning look.
The archaeologist nodded in confirmation. "Boxes and shipping crates mostly. Some packing material used to transport our artifacts."
"Why are you asking?" Snyder wanted to know.
"Heard something down there, a moment ago. In light of everything that happened I think it would be wise for me to check it out."
"Alone?"
The director's voice suddenly had a higher pitch to it. And even Nassar Hazzir swallowed.
"Shouldn't you request some backup?" Snyder asked, and his colleague nodded.
"I agree. If something is down there it is better to be cautious."
"Something?" the sheriff echoed.
Hazzir smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I meant somebody. Forgive my bad English."
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your English." Bonaparte assured him before turning to the director.
"Very well. Would you mind calling my deputy and ask to come over, Dr. Snyder."
###
Deputy Walker arrived about twenty five minutes later. On the sheriff's advice he had brought a couple of larger, stronger flashlights along.
Both Dr Snyder and Hazzir were watching when sheriff Bonaparte opened the door to the basement.
"Stay behind us!" he told the two men as he turned on the flashlight and opened the latch on his gun holster. He tried the light switch on the wall, just in case. But nothing happened.
Carefully one hand on their weapons sheriff and deputy started down the steep staircase. Below a large room with whitewashed walls and bare stone floors opened up in front of them. Bonaparte let his flashlight wander. The basement was empty except for a number of shipping crates and boxes of all sizes and shapes, just as he had been told.
With a gesture of his head he told his deputy to check the left side of the room, while he himself moved to the right. The beam of his flashlight caught a stack of crates that obviously had tumbled over and was now laying scattered across the floor. Perhaps that was the noise he had heard, he thought. But the question of who or what had caused the stack to collapse still remained.
A cold chill suddenly passed over the sheriff's body, followed by an eerie feeling that made the hair on the back of his neck rise.
"Sheriff, over here!" In the large, room Walker's voice almost echoed.
Bonaparte turned his head. His deputy was crouching over something in the far corner of the room. Even in the beam of his flashlight the older man couldn't make out what it was. But he saw something else, something that made the blood in his veins run cold.
"Watch out, Walker!" he yelled just as a large pile of wooden crates to the deputy's left started to tumble.
The young man tried to dive out of the way. For a moment Bonaparte wasn't sure if he succeeded. He couldn't see the deputy behind the scattered boxes.
"Walker?...Walker?!" He jumped forward, reaching the pile at the same time as Dr Hazzir and the director. Together they started to move the crates.
There was a groan and then a cough. The sheriff let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding when Walker staggered to his feet. The young man had lost his flashlight in the fall.
"Are you he hurt?"
Another moan as the deputy gingerly probed a tender spot at his left elbow. "Nothing that won't grow back," he announced dryly. "What happened?"
"What do you mean what happened? You knocked over that pile of boxes."
"But I didn't even touch it...!"
"I warned you." Doctor Hazzir sounded both angry and scared at the same time. "It's dangerous. Too dangerous down here in the dark."
"Perhaps you are right, Doctor." the sheriff agreed. "Maybe we should get the light fixed before we proceed."
"Hold on, Sheriff," Walker objected. "Just take a look at what I found." The young man had picked up his flashlight and directed the beam at an object on the floor, hidden between two large crates.
At first Bonaparte only saw some kind of fabric, but then he noticed a piece of ceramic, about twelve inches high and topped with what looked like the head of a coyote or jackal.
"It's the stolen Canopic jar!"
"Doctor Snyder is correct," Hazzir confirmed. "It is the jar that was missing."
"The thief must have hidden it down here," Snyder suggested.
"That's a possibility, I suppose," the sheriff concurred, even as he emphasized 'a' in a way that made it sound like "That's one possibility..."
Walker bend down, about to pick the jar up, when the older man stopped him. "Don't touch it," he warned. "Go, fetch someone from the forensic team. We need to get it fingerprinted before we put it into evidence."
"No, you can't!"
"I beg your pardon?" Sheriff Bonaparte raised one curious eyebrow at Nassar Hazzir, and even Dr. Snyder gave his colleague a surprised look.
"You cannot remove the jar from this museum. I will not allow it. Now that it has been found again, I and I alone have the authority to decide what happens with it," Hazzir insisted.
"He is right, Sheriff. All the museums included in this cultural exchange signed a contract with the Egyptian Government, agreeing that Doctor Hazzir would be completely in charge of all the artifacts brought by him into this country."
"Apparently, someone forgot to tell our thief about that." The sarcasm in Bonaparte's voice was hard to miss. "Very well. We will fingerprint and process the jar here, then turn it over into your custody."
"Thank you, Sheriff." Hazzir nodded politely.
"Don't thank me yet. And oh yeah, we will need your fingerprints for comparison."
"Of course."
Bonaparte turned toward his deputy. "What are you waiting for, Walker" he snapped. "a written and signed field order?"
"No Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." The young man hurried up the stairs, taking two steps at once.
"Should we wait upstairs?" Doctor Snyder suggested quietly.
The sheriff didn't answer. He seemed busy examining the jar and cloth it was covered with. As his flashlight slowly wandered over it the beam suddenly caught something shiny and sparkling in the darkness beyond.
Curiously Bonaparte leaned forward. He pulled a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and used it to pick up the item, which turned out to be a pendant or amulet in the form of a beetle dangling from a gold chain.
"Well well, what have we here?" the bearded man shone the light onto the amulet, studying the elaborate details. The beetle was made from gold, it's wings inlayed with deep blue stones, and on the flat base he could make out some kind of markings or writing.
"Looks like there is something written here. If we are lucky it might be the owner's name. Would you be kind enough to have a look Doctor Hazzir?"
The archaeologist didn't blink. "That won't be necessary, Sheriff. It belongs to me."
"I know." Bonaparte pulled a small evidence bag from his pocket, dropping pendent and chain into it before sealing the bag. "I noticed you wearing it yesterday. It's a scarab isn't it; a symbol of good luck and protection? Any explanation how it ended up where I found it?"
"I do not know. Perhaps I lost it while I was down here. I have been in this cellar many many times."
"Yes, so I gathered. Well, I think I will hold on to it... for now. You and I, Doctor Hazzir, need to have a long talk, I believe."
TBC
Author's note: Well, it seems that my short side-story has taken on a lift of its own and developed into a full length feature. Kind of like Alexander, I suppose ;)
I will try to get the next chapters out faster but this being the holiday season, the busiest season of the year for me at work, I can't make any promises.