Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Fixation ❯ Chapter Fifteen ( Chapter 15 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer:  I don’t own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.
Chapter Fifteen
Wong took a sip of hot, black coffee from his silver thermos.  He and Chatree were in the warehouse district of West City only a block away from the harbor.  Seagulls argued loudly overhead and shouts of dockworkers carried on the salty, sea breeze.
“So, what do we know about Genzo?”  Wong eyed the pup who quickly flipped through his notebook.  He had to give some praise to the kid.  Since they partnered up, Wong hadn’t had to pick up a pencil or file a report once.  The junior detective was meticulously detailed, right down to the ruler edge crease in his slacks.  Wong was going to have to rumple him up soon though.  If the pup’s nose got buried too deep in details he would never lift his head long enough to get the full picture, and that could very well cost him his life.
“Sataro Genzo was born in 1972 right here in West City, the only child of Marcus and Anne Genzo.  He resided primarily in boarding schools, occasionally coming home for the holidays.  His father died when he was a toddler.  His mother when he was thirteen. ”
“How?
Chatree’s head popped up.  “Huh?”
“How did his parents die?”
“Oh.”  Chatree flipped through some more notes as they walked sedately through the near deserted street.  On either side were long, half empty warehouses, sided with rusty aluminum and shingled with tar.  “Well there’s some speculation about that.  Mr. Genzo was CEO of Hiroshi Corporation.  At the time of his death he was being investigated for criminal misconduct.  Someone broke into the family home and shot him.”
“Robbery?”
Chatree shifted.  “That’s how it looked.”
Wong gave his partner an expectant look.
“There was talk that it was a suicide and the widow staged the scene.”
Wong grunted into his coffee, and continued walking.  Chatree took it as an order to continued and flipped back to his original page.
“The mother tumbled over the balcony of their fifth story apartment.”
“Apartment?  I thought these were some well-to-do folks?”
“Well I couldn’t access Genzo’s financials without a warrant, but I was able to glean some information from old newspapers articles.  It looks like after the father’s death the family was left nearly penniless.  This warehouse is the only piece of real estate left.”
“Was it an accident?”
Chatree shot Wong a confused look that had the senior detective scowling.  
“Her swan dive?” he barked.
Chatree jumped and scrambled through his papers.  
“Her blood alcohol was 1.7.”  He paused as if expecting Wong to interject, but the older detective stayed silent.
“Genzo was present in the home at the time of the accident.”  Chatree added, but Wong barely glanced at him.
They walked up to the side entrance of the warehouse where Genzo resided.  Chatree glanced at Wong, before pressing the intercom button.
“Yes?” A calm, disembodied voice floated from the plastic box.
“West City PD, Mr Genzo.  We have some questions.”  Chatree’s tone was professional as he spoke into the intercom.
“May I see your identification?”
The man’s tone of superiority instantly set Wong’s teeth on edge.  With a concerted effort he forced all the tension from his body, becoming a slack-shouldered, over-worked, under-paid detective.  Both Wong and Chatree held their badges up to the camera that was focused on the entrance.  There was a moment of silence before the door buzzed open.
“Follow the hall to the freight elevator.  I’m on the second floor.”
“Both detectives made their way warily down the hall.  Wong was proud of how the pup moved with cautious purpose.  The kid had instinct that couldn’t be taught.  At the top of the elevator they were met by a slight middle aged man with thinning blonde hair and a pencil moustache.  He was dressed in a fashionable black and white tux that was meticulously pressed.
“Gentleman, I hope this won’t take long.  I am escorting the mayor’s wife to a gallery opening tonight.  And no one keeps her waiting.”  When he spoke, his hands floated into the air, his long fingers dancing to the cadence of his words.
Chatree stepped forward, giving Wong the opportunity to stand back and assess their surroundings.  The apartment had been squared out in the upper south west corner of the dilapidated warehouse.  The furnishings were sheik and expensive, and from the inside it looked like any other upper west end penthouse, complete with a stunning view of the bay from an enlarged convex window that dominated the main room.
“About a year ago you were in the employ of Ms. Diana Cap.  Could you tell us about that, sir?”  Chatree spoke with his pencil poised over his notebook.
Genzo cast him an irritated look that Wong interpreted as annoyance at being addressed by a subordinate rather than the superior officer in the room.
“What is there to say?  I purchased art for her quaint little gallery off  Cobbler’s Square.”
“During that time you purchased art that Ms. Cap disapproved of and it eventually resulted in your dismissal.”
Genzo’s doughy faced turned a blotchy pink.
“I was not dismissed.  I declined to work for that woman any longer.”
“How’s that?”  Wong interjected.
“That woman is no real artist.  She’s a pretender.  When it became clear that her so called art was subpar she decided to open a gallery so she might criticize others.”  Genzo addressed himself with a flutter of fingers.  “I am no snob, sirrah.  I know exceptional art when I see it and I do not judge it’s contents no matter how graphic.  Art exists only for the sake of art.  There is nothing else.”
“Do you still have the artwork, sir?”  Chatree barreled on without batting an eye at the man’s tirade.
Genzo paused to collect himself, running his pale fingers through his blonde hair.  “No, it’s all been sold.”  He looked directly at Wong, his watery, blue eyes cold.  “To a private party who declined to disclose their information.”
“We are going to need the name and address of the artist.”
“Why?”
“We have some questions for him.”
“I didn’t realize that being an artist was a crime now.”
“It’s not, but hindering an investigation is.”  Chatree’s statement was without inflection, and it seemed to deflate Genzo.
“I see.  Wait here, gentleman while I get you the information.”
Wong watched the snow white gulls dip over the blue bay as he waited.  When Genzo returned with an address card, Wong stepped in front of Chatree to accept it.  Simultaneously he handed Genzo his thermos to hold.  The man took it out of startled instinct.  While Genzo held his coffee, Wong pocketed the information and riffled through his pockets for his own dog-eared card.
“If you remember anything else, like the buyer’s name, please give us a call.”  Wong allowed a tight smile to ghost over his lips as he handed Genzo his card.  He took back his thermos, gripping it haphazardly by the top.
“I’m sure I have nothing more for you gentlemen.”
Genzo walked them to the elevator, watching with annoyed arrogance as they descended.  Once outside the building, and away from the prying lens of the camera, Wong held out the empty thermos to his partner.  Chatree quickly scooped it into an evidence bag.
“I didn’t think a guy who escorts the mayor’s wife to shindigs like gallery openings would be a suspect.”  Chatree sealed the bag as he spoke.
“Even God is a suspect until he’s ruled out.  Have the lab compare his prints to the one we have on file.”
Chatree’s phone rang.  Wong took the time to light a cigarette while his partner answered it.  He drew in the smoke, holding it in his lungs a moment before exhaling into the breeze.  He heard his partner’s sharp replies before he snapped his phone shut.
“That was the Captain.  There’s been another incident at the Brief’s residence.”
Wong watched the lazy spiral smoke disappear into the blue sky with regret.

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