Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Im Falle eines Falles ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

The Case of the Missing Exchange Student

Part 1

 

Milliardo gave an irritated groan, and pulled the comforter up over his ears when a ray of sunlight suddenly hit his bed. “What are you doing? I'm still trying to sleep,” he growled.

“Sorry, but it's time to get up.” Treize opened the shutters of the second window as well, before walking over to the bed. He pulled away the blanket and bent down to kiss his lover's forehead.

The fair-haired, young man cracked one eye open and frowned. “Why are you already dressed?”

“Because we're having a meeting with clients in little more than an hour.”

“Why do you have to schedule a meeting at such an ungodly hour?” the blond huffed.

“It is nearly 11:30,” Treize informed him.

“Like I said, what an ungodly hour.” Milliardo finally opened both eyes. He reached out, got a hold of his lover's tie, pulling him closer.

“Stop it, Milliardo; we don't have time for…” Treize's protest was cut short as the blond captured his lips in a heated kiss.

“Mmm,” Milliardo nipped at his lover's lower lip. “You smell so good.” He was still holding on to the older man's tie. It took just one good tug, and Treize tumbled right on top of him. With a satisfied grin, the blond wrapped one of his long, slender legs around him.

 

“Not *now* dearest!” Treize tried, somewhat unwillingly, to untangle himself from Milliardo.

 

“But Treize…” the blond gave a frustrated groan as the older man batted his fingers away from the buttons of his pants. He pouted, glaring at his lover who rolled his eyes as he tried to smooth his hair back into a presentable state.

“I'm serious, Milliardo; you need to get up. It will take us at least fifteen minutes to get to the office.”

“Let me drive and we will get there faster.”

“You don't have a driver's license,” the ginger blond man pointed out.

“Exactly, that means they can't take it away if we do get stopped.”

“Your logic escapes me.” Treize shook his head as he finally freed himself and rose to his feet. “You lost your license in the first place because you were driving too fast. I don't think the police call you “Lightning Count” because they are so very fond of you. Just because you own a car that can drive 150mph doesn't mean that you have to drive that fast. ”

Milliardo gave him an innocent look that only he could master. “But then, where is the fun of having a car like that?”

“I give up,” Treize threw his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. “It's a lost cause.”

His blond partner chuckled. “Does this mean I can go back to sleep?”

“Don't even think about it. Get in the shower now, before I drag you there myself.”

Milliardo mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like: “Slave driver,” even as he finally pushed away the covers and swung his long legs over the side of the bed.

Treize simply snorted at the remark and walked out of the room. “Hurry up, and you might even get some breakfast,” he said just before the door closed behind him.

#####

The K & P Investigative Bureau was located near downtown. The two partners had bought the entire top floor of a small office building, and completely rebuilt it, back when they first started out in the business.

The waiting room was empty when they arrived. Treize ran his keycard through the lock to open the door to the office. The large room was furnished in a way that made it look both, professional and at the same time stylish and inviting. The walls were lined with bookcases. Two heavy oak desks with large, high back leather chairs were set up on one side of the office; while on the other side a small, yet comfortable sitting area provided a more casual atmosphere.

“The Carters should be here any minute, could you put on some coffee, dear?” Treize asked, as he opened one of the large windows to let in the warm spring air.

“Why do I always have to make coffee? What am I, your Secretary?”

“But of course not.” Treize flashed his lover a brilliant smile. “It's just that your coffee is so much better than anything I could ever brew.”

Milliardo shuffled into the adjoined kitchen, even as he huffed and mumbled something about Treize being able to even charm a rattlesnake out of its next meal.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” the tawny-haired man laughed.

While Milliardo prepared the coffeemaker and filled a tray with dishes, cream and sugar, Treize set up a recorder. He liked to tape the conversations with his clients rather than going through the painstaking process of writing down all the necessary information. It was not only easier; it also allowed him and Milliardo to later go over the tapes again to make sure they didn't miss anything important.

Just as the fair-haired detective walked back into the office, the sound of a buzzer indicated that somebody had entered the waiting room. Treize went to check, and gave their visitors, a couple in their mid-thirties, a polite smile. “Mister and Missis Carter, I assume?” He greeted the couple with a firm handshake. “I'm Treize Khushrenada. We spoke on the phone yesterday. This is my partner, Milliardo Peacecraft.” He gestured at Milliardo and then toward the sitting area. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

As Mr. and Mrs. Carter settled down in two of the cream colored leather chairs Milliardo disappeared into the kitchen once again to get the coffee.

“From what I understood from our conversation yesterday,” Treize said as he took a seat across from the couple, “this is about your son?”

“No, actually he isn't our son. We are just his host family,” Mr. Carter explained. “Wufei is an exchange student from Hong Kong, who has been staying with us since last fall. Two days ago he went out to see a movie with his friends and never returned.”

“Just wondering, why didn't you go to the police first before trying to hire a private detective?” Treize wanted to know.

“But that's exactly what we did. First thing in the morning, after we realized that Wufei hadn't come home,” Mr. Carter replied, and his wife nodded in confirmation. “They told us they couldn't do much,” he continued. “Since Wufei had turned 18 only a few weeks ago, he is technically an adult and as such he had the right to disappear if he chooses to. The police can't do anything for at least 72 hours unless they have proof that a crime was committed. Besides, I had the feeling that the detective we talked to wasn't taking the whole story very serious to begin with. He kept telling us that it was not uncommon for teenagers to disappear for a few days.”

“Perhaps the detective is right?” Milliardo remarked as he set the tray on the table, and proceeded to pour the coffee. “Maybe the young man has a girlfriend somewhere or he had a little too much to drink and is just crashing a friend's house.”

Mrs. Carter shook her head and gave the blond detective a tired smile. “You wouldn't suggest such things if you knew Wufei. He doesn't drink, and he doesn't have time for girls. The only thing he is concerned about right now is his studies and his grades. Finals are coming up soon. He has been working too hard the entire year to throw it all away now.”

“My wife is right,” Mr. Carter confirmed. “Wufei is not the type of person who likes to hang out with friends or party. He actually likes to study and he loves to read. He is … how should I put it…”

A nerd… Milliardo finished the sentence in his mind. Wonderful, this is just what I had hoped for. Who would not want to spend the weekend combing the city for some teenage geek who is probably hanging out somewhere, having the time of his life, after finally discovering that there is more to life than textbooks and homework?

Barely listening to their clients ramblings Milliardo rose and walked to the window behind their backs. He propped himself up against the windowsill, raised his hand and drew his finger across his throat, imitating a cutting gesture. Treize, picking up his partner's signal, answered with an almost unnoticeable nod. Apparently he was no more interested in the case than Milliardo was.

“We've brought a picture like you ask us to. If you'd like to take a look…” Mrs. Carter rummaged in her purse. From where he was standing Milliardo could look over her shoulder as she pulled out a small 4x6 photograph. The blond detective frowned slightly. The boy…young man in the picture looked nothing at all like the image of Wufei that he had created in his head. He had a serious looking, but very handsome face, golden tanned skin and lightly slanted dark eyes. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his firmly closed mouth gave him a determined expression. Milliardo's frown deepened as he suddenly recalled something he had read about just a few days earlier.

Treize took a sip from his coffee and set the cup carefully back onto the table before he spoke. “I certainly understand your concern, but I can also see the detective's point of view. There are probably hundreds of similar cases were a teenager ran away, just too return on his own a day or two later. Perhaps you might want to reconsider spending a lot of money on a private detective and…”

“Are you saying that you won't be able to help us?” Mr. Carter asked.

“You'll have to understand…”

“No actually,” Milliardo interrupted, as he pushed away from the window and walked over to Mrs. Carter. “What my partner is saying is that we are more than happy to help you, as long as you are sure that's what you would like us to do. We are not bound to the same rules and regulations as the police and therefore we can start looking for the young man right away. May I take a look at that picture please?”

“Milliardo, may I speak to you for a second, in private.” Treize rose, giving their clients an apologetic look. “If you'd excuse us for a moment...” He grabbed the younger man by the arm, nearly dragging him into the kitchen, and closed the door behind them. “What in the world do you think you are doing? Didn't you just signal to me that you had no interest in taking this case? And to tell the truth I agree with you on that.”

“That's right,” the blond confirmed. “But that was before I saw this.” He held up the photograph for his partner to see.”

Treize rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Milliardo, for once, can you please try to think with your head, and I'm referring to the one that's sitting on your shoulders.”

Milliardo snorted. “But I am. Seeing his photo just reminded me of something I read somewhere a couple of days ago.”

His partner remained skeptical. “And what would that be?”

“Last month three Japanese teenagers disappeared from a cruise ship docking at Long Harbor,” the blond explained. “They belonged to a group of students on some kind of educational tour. Some of their classmates told the police later that the three boys had sneaked off the ship during the night to explore the city on their own. They never returned.”

“Hmmm…” Treize stoked his chin thoughtfully. “I don't remember reading anything like that in the paper.”

“I didn't say it was it in the paper, did I? I read it in a police report.”

“You hacked into the police data base again?” the older man asked sternly.

Milliardo simply shrugged. “You can't really call it hacking, you know. Any 4th grader with a semi decent computer can get into that database without even breaking a sweat.”

“That's not exactly the point, but in any case, if there was a connection, don't you think the police would have noticed it too?”

“The Carters live in Mirfield, the other boys disappeared in Long Harbor. Two different counties, two different jurisdictions, maybe they don't share information. Maybe I'm wrong.” The blond gave another shrug. “But I think there are some similarities. Those boys were a few years younger, but…”

“Let me see this.” Treize reached for the photograph, studying it quietly for a few moments before he turned and walked back into the office. “You said that Wufei just turned eighteen, didn't you? How old is this picture, if I may ask.”

“We took it only a few weeks ago while we were on a weekend trip.” Mrs. Carter replied. “Wufei wanted to send some photographs home to his family.”

“No offence, but he looks younger than eighteen, doesn't he?” the tawny-haired detective remarked after another quick look at the photo.

“You are right,” the woman confirmed. “And the fact that he is a little small for his age doesn't help either. Even his friends tease him about it, in a lighthearted way of course.”

Treize exchanged a quick glance with Milliardo then he nodded. “Well, I think I still have a few more questions that I'd like to ask you, and then we can start typing up the contract,” he suggested.

###

“So, what do you think?” Treize asked as he drove his Mercedes through the inner city. “What's the connection between those three Japanese boys and Wufei, aside from the fact that they are all Asian, and at least by appearance about the same age?”

“I'm not sure,” Milliardo, sitting in the seat next to him, shrugged. “But I can't believe that it is just a coincidence. Did you noticed, the movie theater Wufei and his friends went to is not that far away from the harbor. It's quite possible that that's exactly the same part of town the other three boys went exploring the night they disappeared.

Treize nodded. “Yes, I noticed that too. Perhaps we will know more once we talked to Wufei's friends. We should meet with them before we decide how to proceed.”

“Meet with them?” Milliardo echoed. “Have you ever heard of something called a telephone, Mr. Holmes? It's a device that let's you talk to other people without actually having to be in their physical presence.”

Treize chuckled softly. “Call me old fashioned, but I actually like to look people in the eye when I question them. That makes it much harder for them to lie to me.”

“Somehow I knew you would say something like that,” the blond sighed. “Fine, but at least let us stop somewhere and eat something fist. I'm starving.”

“That's your own fault. You should have gotten up when I told you and you would have had time to eat breakfast before leaving the house.” Treize didn't sound the least bit sympathetic.

Milliardo huffed. “You really are a slave driver, do you know that?”