The Contingency Plan

Chapter 8

Fratricide

Suspended in the pale, rain-soaked reflections of darkened windows swam the massive bones of an ancient shark. The megalodon made for an ethereal centerpiece to the museum lobby, especially with the lights turned off.

Looking into the serrated jaws of the primordial predator, Grant Grierson tried to imagine what it would have been like to be that thing's dinner.

He was there somewhat reluctantly at the behest of Kudo Shinichi, who had asked him to brave the mounting storm and return to the scene of the crime.

Upon arrival, he'd dismissed Sgt Wilder, the patrolman assigned to guard the building. There was no real need for both of them to get drenched after all. But that had been done based on the assumption that the power was working.

He tried the switch on the wall. Nothing. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This was odd. Instinct told him something was off.

He pulled out a flashlight and his pistol, aiming both into the unknown. "Hello!? Kudo!? You here!?"

A distant voice echoed from the void. "Yeah! I'm over here! Is that you, lieutenant?"

"The lights are out! Where are you?"

"You noticed that too? They must be on a timer. I'm afraid I don't have the layout committed to memory. Just follow the sound of my voice."

Grierson rolled his eyes at the inconvenience. Still, he was happy to hear Kudo. The kid had sharp instincts, and there was no note of alarm in his voice.

He started slowly up the portico stairs, listening to his own heavy footsteps clash against the polished marble. "Sounds like you're feeling better. You had me worried there for a minute. Looked like death on a pale horse when I left you."

"It comes and goes." Kudo admitted.

The top of the staircase ended in the golden ritual of the Egyptian gallery. "You-uh, wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"I figured out who the culprit is."

A shadow caught Grierson by surprise. He jumped back and leveled his hand cannon at the sarcophagus of Seti III, displayed the middle of the wing. Breathing heavily, he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Yeah, me too. He's in surgery right now. Probably not going to make it, though."

"No, the only thing we know Mr Faulkner is guilty of is evading arrest. And with Ran chasing him down, I honestly can't say I blame him."

"But we caught him red-handed. Division IV confirmed almost a million dollars was transferred out of the charity that night. I found the forged books he was going to use myself."

"I believe the word in English is acrophobia."

"Fear of heights?" Said Grierson. He entered a dazzling assortment of rare earth gems and geodes, the flashlight producing a sympathy of color as its beam ricocheted across the mineral splendor.

"Precisely. He could have easily escaped by jumping over the retaining wall. Instead, he turned and tried to fight his way past three opponents. He was petrified by a drop of less than two meters. Our perpetrator walked along a narrow ledge outside the second story of this building."

Grierson nodded to his logic, forgetting that the kid couldn't possibly see him. "Alright then. If not him, who do you figure? Abigail Park? She has the right kind of gun, and killing your lover's wife is a strong motive."

"That is true. However, she was wearing high heels that night. That's what we found her in the following morning, having gone straight to the Wei residence. Again, not very conducive to a midnight stroll on the balcony. With this level of premeditation, I would expect flats."