Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Murder and a Music Box ❯ The Jazz Man ( Chapter 2 )

Author's notes: I wanna give a shout out to Apple Dumpling for giving me a review. There is a nice Ignatius/Duo scene just for you! Also, if you read this and like it please review! I am really shameless about this but I don't care. I love reviews and I want some!!!!

Warnings: This got yaoi more quickly than I thought it would. But that's not a bad thing! Okay, this chappy just has a lot on innuendo, not anything really citrus.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own, so don't sue.

The Jazz Man

The next day found me sitting in my office and flipping through Mr. Winner's black book. The elation I felt the day before had subsided a little, but I was still really optimistic about the case. The book was so full of interesting names and information that I knew there had to be a lead in there somewhere. It took me a really long time to give it a thorough reading. In truth, I was just putting off the inevitable. I knew I was gonna have to call the cop. I needed to see some crime scene photos and the murder weapon. But I really didn't wanna talk to the guy.

So, I played another game with Ignatius. This time it was chess. I was doing pretty well until he got my queen. Then it was three simple moves and he had me in check. I tried to get out of it , but he ended up chasing my king around the board until I got bored and I gave up. Interesting, I know. But he is really smart for an iguana.

After that I slowly picked up my phone and dialed the damn cop's number. Then guess what happened? His secretary said he went out to lunch and would be back later. I was slightly annoyed but even more relieved that I didn't have to talk to him yet. Plus, it made me realize how hungry I was getting. So I put Ignatius back in his cage, grabbed my coat and went out for a bite.

After I ate a couple of hot dogs, got killer indigestion and vowed to start eating more salads, I decided to head over to the police station. He would be back from lunch by then, and I was in a worse mood since the indigestion. All the better to face him, I figured.

When I arrived, the cop was sitting in his office. A cup of coffee in his hand and his long bangs where obscuring one eye, like they always did. He was messing around with his computer and didn't even look up at me, the jerk.

I made a show of clearing my throat and coughing to get his attention, but it didn't work. He simply motioned with his free hand and said, "leave it on my desk."

I really should have punched him, that would have gotten his attention all right. But I kept calm and decided to go a different route. "Still lookin' up dirty sites at work? What do they pay you for anyway, Detective Barton?"

He noticed me at that, gave a hearty laugh and put down his cup of coffee. "Duo, to what do I owe your presence in my office? Did I upset some unknown god?"

"That was lame, Barton," I huffed. Because really, it was lame.

"Not any lamer than your joke about porn. And they pay me to do my job, you know, solve cases and all that." At this he gave me a little smirk. "Not to dress up in women's clothing and put myself in compromising situations."

And that was why I didn't want to come see him. He always mentioned that one incident. I don't really feel like discussing it here, or ever for that matter. But just to let you know that's why I didn't like the guy.

"Yeah, yeah," I said as casually as possible. "I know all the jokes, Barton. I'm here on business."

He took the point for once and wiped the stupid smirk off of his face. "What's that?"

"The Winner case. Quatre asked me to investigate it on my own. He doesn't seem to think you guys are giving it your best." That had felt good.

"It's a bit complicated. There have been a number of robberies in the neighborhood recently. They were all very similar to the Winner case. You know how it is Duo, I have to go with the strongest lead. Right now, it happens to be the robbery gone wrong scenario."

I did know that, but I still liked to insult him. "Right, so can I have a look at the report? You know, photos, fingerprints, murder weapon?"

"Duo, I am a busy man you know," he said and sighed.

"I know," I said and gave him a winning smile. "But can't you help out an old friend?"

That did it. He looked at me with his one visible green eye for a moment then nodded and stood up. "Yeah, I can help out and old friend."

He took me into the back room, where they kept all the files. It had been awhile since I'd been in there, a few years at least. I don't think I'd been in that room since I stopped working on the force and went out on my own. Hey, there is a lot you don't know about me and here isn't the time to explain.

He pulled out the file and I started to look through it. "You didn't find any fingerprints?"

"None that didn't have an explanation. It's the same with the other robberies."

I picked up the small statue in a plastic bag. It was a replica of some famous statue in Italy, but this one had a dark stain on it. "He was hit multiple times?"

"No," Trowa said, " just once. We think he showed up while they were robbing the place. Someone panicked and beat him over the head."

I nodded and begrudging thought it sounded reasonable. "What did he report stolen?"

Trowa flipped through the report and pointed. "Money from the safe and a music box."

I nodded again and began to look at the crime scene photos. "They're not as good as yours," Trowa said and smiled slightly. Okay fine, now's the time to explain. I used to be a crime scene photographer, and I worked pretty closely with Trowa Barton. But that's ancient history.

"Yeah, well it must be hard to find someone with my talent." To my annoyance Trowa just gave a small chuckle. "What happened when you arrived?"

"Quatre Winner had been out with friends that night, his alibi is quite solid. He came home and went to bed. When he got up in the morning he found the body and called 911." Trowa stopped for a moment and took a breathe. "He was obviously shocked when we arrived. I talked to him and he gave me this report," Trowa indicated the report by flapping it in the air a couple of times. "I feel really sorry for him. He's all alone and he seems like a really good kid."

"Yeah," I agreed. Perhaps somewhere deep inside me there was a shadow of doubt, but I didn't recognize it. All I knew I felt at that moment was a pang of jealousy that Trowa thought the same thing about Quatre that I did. Go figure.

"Thanks for the help Trowa," I said feeling more than a little awkward at that point. "I should get going, but keep me updated on the robbery thing."

"Do you have any different leads, Duo?"

"No," I lied, "just sniffing around like usual." And I gave him a smile.

"Right," Trowa said flashing me with a rare grin. "You still at the same number then?"

"You betcha," I said as I walked out. I put a hand in the air to wave goodbye and had the image of him standing there watching me leave with something he wanted to say. Man, I can be a little delusional at times.

* * *

Later that night, I decided I needed something to get the meeting with Trowa off of my mind. Work was the best option so I flipped through the little black book one more time and my eyes fell on the matchbox from The Blue Angel. Now, this could be considered fate, or just a coincidence but I don't believe in either. I made the decision to go, and I went. Well, actually I took a shower first, something I had neglected to do earlier, then I went.

I tried not to look so much like a detective so I pulled on a wife beater, some worn jeans and my leather jacket. My hair was pulled back in its usual braid and I'd like to think I looked dangerous and at least a little sexy.

The place wasn't hard to find, but it wasn't on the best part of town so I was more familiar with the area. It was a small building that blended in perfectly with all the other businesses in that part. The only thing that made it stand out was the big neon sign that hung over the bar. It was blue, not surprising, and had an angel above the name of the joint. It was all pretty cheesy. In fact, if I hadn't known the place was a bar I might have thought it was an alternative church or a cult.

Well, that not being the case, I walked in the front door. Now, I could say that as soon as I entered all eyes fell on me, the mysterious stranger. And they watched me walk to the bar and ask for a bottle of Bud, riveted by my every movement and quivering with anticipation about who I was and what I wanted. But that didn't happen. By the time I got there is was pushing midnight and most of the patrons were already drunk or close to it. I even had to slap the bar a few times to get the bartender's attention.

After I had my beer in hand I grabbed a table and cased the joint. It was small and smokey with the bar on one side and a small stage on the other, between them was an island dance floor in a sea of tables. There was nothing at all remarkable about the place. But I was the great Duo Maxwell and I was there to solve a murder. Or at least get why Mr. Winner hung out at a seedy bar. It was all seeming pretty suspicious to me when the band started playing and I stole a glance at the stage.

If trusting Quatre Winner was my first mistake then seeing the man at the piano was my second. He had dark chocolate hair and exotic eyes that stole glances at the audience as his fingers danced across the keys. I really thought I'd seen enough beautiful men in the past few days to last me a lifetime, but I had been wrong. Here was another one and I couldn't take my eyes off of him, unfortunately.

I watched like an idiot as he played his set, a number of jazz tunes on various instruments. At the time I was certain he was the most talented musician I had ever seen, see what happens when you drink too much and your closest company is an overly intelligent iguana?

After he finished he stood up and stepped off of the stage. I noticed he was wearing black slacks and a nice blue button up, which should have been odd considering he was working at a place like The Blue Angel. But at the time all I noticed was how nice he looked in them.

He walked up to the bar, and I, having a couple bottles of beer in me, popped in a breath mint and followed.

I leaned against the bar in a causal and charming way. "You play a mean piano."

"Thanks," he said as he looked at me and gave me the once over. "You're new here, aren't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered anyway. "Yep, it's my first time."

He gave me a smile at that and I realized how pouty his lips were. "I'm glad you enjoyed it then."

I gave a small laugh and held out my hand. "I'm Duo."

"Heero Yuy," he said and shook my hand. His hands were softer and smaller than I thought they would be. I also got a number of other thoughts, but I'm not gonna share any of them here.

"How long have you worked here?" I asked. I was still working after all and maybe this guy was a lead. Okay, that's a lie. I was making pleasant conversation with a very attractive man.

"A couple of years. Can I get you a drink? It's on the house," he asked and his eyes got a dangerous glint in them.

I should have said, "no, I have to get going." Or, "no, I'm on a case right now. I have to stay sober and not run off into the night with a stranger I met in a bar." But instead I said, "yeah, that'd be great."

So he bought me another drink, tequila this time, and we talked. I don't quite remember what about except for the fact that it was very amusing, at the time anyway.

"I live close by," Heero said after another few drinks. I wasn't really keeping count.

"Well, I really shouldn't drive like this anyway," I said. Here's my public service announcement for the day: don't drink and drive.

So we got up and stumbled out of the bar. I remember the cold night air sobering me up a bit and a lot of laughing. We could have walked a block or a mile, I'm not sure, but we ended up in front of a door in a old but reasonably nice apartment building.

Okay, the actions that I took after that I blame on the following: number one, the alcohol. Number two, me being a tad lonely. Number three, the feelings I was keeping under control about Quatre Winner. And finally number four, my frustration with Trowa earlier that day. So, when Heero Yuy gave me a devilish grin as he unlocked the door I did what a good detective is supposed to do. I followed my instincts and walked into the apartment, shutting the door behind me.