The Arcane: Alistair Mann

CHAPTER 15 THE CORMORANTS (DITTO)

Agent Prince stares at the gruesome and heartless scene in front of him. A feeling of déjà vu flickers through him as he grimaces. The scene before them is organized akin to that of the Cormorants. Instead of an orchestra, a touching father-son duet is laid out before the two silent federal agents and accompanying forensic crew. The son, Benjamin Sinclair, with his unruly blond hair is positioned playing an alto saxophone. His father is positioned next to his son behind a mini grand piano. His face seems to be engulfed in lost emotion as he plays a symphony. They are frozen in place without anything keeping them there. Agent Prince remembers the strange organic material that the good doctor had found, and a chill runs down his back. Once again, he wishes he is back with his comforting girlfriend. But then he remembers the families of the Cormorants and the innocence of Doctor Sinclair and his talkative son. He must find the villain responsible for such heinous crimes. Again, a feeling of déjà vu flashes through Agent Prince, making him hesitate as he steps around the erected bodies. He looks to the pink roses replacing the Doctor's and son's eyes. Whoever is doing these grotesque atrocities to these innocent people deserves to be locked up for the rest of their ugly life.

Agent Prince looks to Agent Young who is kneeling closer to the bodies, but still out of the pool of blood with its carefully scrawled designs through it. She is staring at the bodies intently, her brow furrowed deep in mentation. After sighing, she gets back to her feet and walks around to the metal tables that have various equipment and tools on them. All around, you can hear the shutter click of the forensic team's cameras going off as they document the scene of carnage and all its surroundings. Agent Young walks over to a table with documents marked with observations Doctor Sinclair noted during his autopsies. Typically, the results would be filed away in the office above, but these are not. She looks to see what their date is, and it reads September 11th, 2021, yesterday. Quickly, the grim agent scans the documents hoping to find something useful, but to no avail. She wants answers to all the unanswered questions the doctor left them with about the strange organic layer of skin found on the Cormorants and how the blood on the floor was the culmination of hers, Magnus Prince, and the rest of the crew. A chill runs down Agent Young's back begging the question; who's blood is it now on the floor beneath the good Doctor and his son?

"Everything alright?" Agent Prince asks from behind, noticing the typical revelry in crime gone from her.

Agent Young turns and is about to make a glib remark when she sees that Agent Prince seems to be in a sort of shock and realization as well.

Instead, she says gruffly, "I will be upstairs, if you need me holler but make sure I can't hear you."

As Agent Young leaves, she takes one last glance behind her. She sees Agent Prince examining the mutilated bodies and for a minute appreciates the toughness of his young stomach. Just like her partner Rob-. Agent Young cuts herself off, burying the resurfacing thought in depths that rival the Mariana Trench. It isn't that Agent Young is just insufferably stubborn about new blood, not wanting a new partner. But it is that Agent Prince reminds her so much of her old one, Robbie. The sweet innocence and iron determination. Although he was a few years older than her he always acted half her age. She had found Robbie irresistible, one of the only things that kept her from being engulfed by her darkness. When he was murdered, she vowed to never attach herself to anything again, so although that blasted Director Grayson assigned them together Agent Prince will never be her partner, he can't.

Later that day Agent Prince and Young sit at their opposing desks in the temporary headquarters for their investigation into the strange homicides. Typically, Agent Prince would be trying to bounce questions and investigative observations off Agent Young in hopes of finding a break in the case. But today not even Agent Prince is saying anything. Both sit silently at their desks not saying a word or looking at each other. A reticence has washed over the other officers and agents as well. Only the clacking of keyboards, mouses, and other appliances resound within the abandoned Ma's Floral Emporium.

Suddenly Agent Rashidi makes a loud exclamation of joy. Everyone in the room looks over to him which prompts his cheeks to redden. Just as soon as they looked to him the ensemble turns their heads back to whatever task they are or are not doing. Agent Rashidi picks up his laptop and stands, walking over to Agent Prince and Young. Swallowing hard he approaches the aloof Agent Young. While he would much rather talk to Agent Prince, the veteran agent is definitely the leader of the two. Despite his unease, enthusiasm can't help but bubble through him as he lays his laptop on Agent Young's desk. Annoyed she raises an eyebrow and straightens out the Apple device, so it is aligned with the other appliances on her desk.

"What?" she asks gruffly.

"I found something," Agent Rashidi says and beckons for Agent Prince to come over as well. "I don't know how this could be buried this deep, but it was. There is a shady businessman who made his fortune by way of selling legal and illegal high-value and profile paintings to the highest bidder. He lives outside of Eau Claire in his enormous estate. He has become somewhat of an ominous figure to the locals. Over the years he always kept a staff of servants, janitors, for upkeep of his giant mansion. Now get this, many of them disappeared over time. On several occasions local police were involved in investigating the billionaire but nothing was ever proved, and most was swept under the rug."

"Could be our guy. Most solid lead we have had yet," Agent Prince says, a new flicker of energy lighting itself in him.

Agent Young purses her lips and says, "How old is he?"

"Seventy-seven," Agent Rashidi answers.

"He isn't an artist, but close to it, I guess. A love of art is most assuredly there," Agent Prince says thoughtfully.

"The guy's name is Alistair Mann," Agent Rashidi says ecstatic.

"Let's go give this Alistair Mann a visit then," Agent Young says slyly.