Chapter 6 [A Half Hour Later]
[A/N: And here's where the crossover starts….]
A 1940s roadster pulled up in front of the observatory. The antique obviously stood out amidst its more modern counterparts. The woman behind the wheel fit with it in that regard. Rouge beret sat atop fiery red hair. Green eyes narrowed at the scientific facility. Intrigue and Pondering puffed smoke from Cigarette's glowing tip. Fingers tapped on the dashboard.
Beside her, a slender elderly man considered the observatory as well. Swann's work demanded respect and regard. Unlike others, Empathy and Consideration moved him to understand Swann's seclusion. His eyes glanced at his own crippled leg and the cane standing beside it. Questions bubbled up within his mind as well. Virgil Swann's been a virtual recluse for thirty years! Why would he come out now? Why would a body show up here of all places? Is there a connection to the plane? "Ready to be the first to speak with this man, Jean?"
Her eyebrow arched. "He went underground. It's an interesting quirk. I'm interested in the pilot's body, his ties to that plane and these visitors of his myself." She took a few more puffs from her cigarette. Then, she snuffed it out in the ash tray. "Give me a minute, Captain." Dad will want those folks dragged downtown. Why would they kill the guy and drag the body all the way here? If they killed him, it would've made sense to let it burn up in the wreckage. Something didn't add up to her. She picked up the microphone on her car's radio. "Dispatch, this is DeWolff. Over?"
"Dispatch here, Detective."
"Dispatch, what's the ETA for our CSU team?" DeWolff glanced at her passenger. Given a waiting corpse inside, she found it odd that other patrol cars and the coroner remained noticeably absent.
"They're in route, Detective. They'll be along shortly. Dispatch, out."
DeWolff replaced the microphone beside the radio. "I guess that's that." She sucked in a deep breath. "Guess there's no time like the present."
"Virgil Swann, despite his disappearance, was an internationally renowned scientist. He does have a measure of influence. He has no reason, however, to hide what happened. Let's talk to him and see what he has to say for himself. He slid his cane into position. "No time like the present."
She got out and walked around the front. She opened the door for him. "Never expected a planetarium like this in Manhattan. It's a wonder he can see anything with the lights and everything." A frown punctuated that remark.
He efforted himself onto the sidewalk. His left hand leaned on the cane. "Thank you." Gratitude elicited a slight nod of the head. He gimped with a deliberate pace up the sidewalk. "Rather odd that the coroner didn't meet us." He turned with more effort. His eyes surveyed the street behind them.
"You heard Dispatch. He's coming. We're talking to them first." She led him up to the door. "Wonder where the doorbell is?" Her knuckles rapped against the door.
Crosby opened the door. She considered the couple in front of herself. "Yes? May I help you?" The antique car raised an eyebrow. Expectation called for the police. Visitors weren't wanted especially not at that point.
The female officer pulled her badge out. "Good afternoon. I'm Detective DeWolff of the NYPD. This is Retired Captain George Stacy. We're here about the crash and the pilot. Can we come in please? Our coroner and Crime Scene Unit will be here shortly. And you are?" She held it up in front of Crosby.
"I'm Dr. Brigid Crosby, Dr. Swann's associate. Please follow me, Detective and Captain." Crosby opened the door still wider. "Dr. Swann and the others are right this way." She led them down the passage toward Swann's sanctum. "Thank you for your promptness." Her eyes ran across the patches over the hallway's damaged spots. She pressed on.
"Watch the floor, Sir. There's that patched section." DeWolff helped him over that section. As with Crosby, her eyes took in the damage. This isn't a redecorating job. What the Hell happened in here? "What came through here anyway?"
Crosby's face betrayed no reaction. Common Sense knew better than to give them any clues as to Clark's and Lana's secrets. "We had some wiring issues. Fortunately, there were no fires or damage other than what you see here."
Wiring issues? Uh huh….right…. DeWolff coughed. She filed that notion away for another time. "I'm really interested in meeting Dr. Swann. I mean why now?"
"Why now…what?" Crosby reached the door. Her eyes narrowed. Protective instincts reared up inside of herself.
Disapproval flicked in his eyes toward DeWolff. Granted, Swann's sudden reappearance prompted his own questions. Still, other mysteries and issues ranked higher for him than that. The way that plane went down, it's miraculous that our visitors are unhurt much less alive. How did they get back here so fast? Why did they come here? He surveyed the passage. No wiring mishap did this. It's like a battle was staged here. He made his own internal note to himself.
Crosby opened the door. "They're waiting in here. Captain Stacy, you may wish to take care. The way's narrow in there." She opened the door for them.
"Thank you, Dr. Crosby." He studied the opening in the midst of the pile. "I see the beginning of a path. I shall take it slowly." More questions poked through his mind. Certainly, someone like Swann would keep his facilities orderly?
"Follow me then." Crosby led them into Labyrinth's way and toward the waiting group.
Such was the way to solving issues and making connections….