Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) (3 page)

"Did you call the number?" Sara said.

"Not yet."

She took out her own phone. "What's the number?"

Virgil gave her the number, and she dialed. She listened for a moment.

Finally, she said, "This is Sara Blandish from the Illinois State Police. I need information regarding a death this morning. It's an urgent, criminal matter. Please call me back at...." She gave her own number and then hung up. "It was an answering machine."

Virgil knew her real name was Sara Bass. Blandish was just a cover story. The whole club carried fake Illinois State Police identification.

"We'll see if they call you," Haymaker said. "In the meantime, let's discuss possible causes of death. What could do that to a man?"

Sara took another look at the pictures on his phone. Everybody waited for her to render an opinion. She was the expert on death.

"I don't see any sign of burning," she said, "and the tissue damage is very uniform. I'm thinking intense radiation."

"Like a microwave oven?" Lisa said.

"Exactly."

"What about a microwave communication tower?" Haymaker said. "I've heard they can be very dangerous."

"Theoretically," Sara said, "but hanging out in front of a radar dish on a tower isn't exactly easy to do."

"Maybe he was flying an experimental aircraft which used microwaves," Virgil said. "An explosion threw him at the ground at high speed."

"I have a suggestion," Haymaker said, "although it may not be appropriate. Could we ask Barachiel?"

Everybody else looked at each other thoughtfully. Barachiel was chief of the guardian angels and one of the most powerful lords in Heaven. Sara and Alfred reported to Barachiel, but communication with the archangel was reserved for matters of great urgency.

"I don't know," Sara said. "Our mission is chasing down supernatural adversaries. There is nothing obviously supernatural about this case."

"But we don't know there isn't," Haymaker said. "It doesn't hurt to ask."

Sara made a face. "I suppose, but don't get your hopes up."

She stood up and walked over to a shelf. She grabbed a silver tray which had become a little dusty from disuse. The basement had a utility sink, and she washed the tray thoroughly with hot water and soap. Then she filled it with a thin layer of clean water and placed the tray on a table.

Sara stood before the tray and said, "Barachiel! Can you hear me? Are you there?"

Virgil, Lisa, and Haymaker walked over. At first, Virgil only saw the reflection of the ceiling. Then the image turned blue, and the angel appeared.

Barachiel had the appearance of an astonishingly beautiful woman in a golden gown. Diamonds twinkled in the gauzy fabric. White, feathered wings were as large as the canopy of a tree. The angel's face was sublime perfection.

Children played on a grassy field in the background. They were tossing sparkling balls back and forth. Their laughter was as pure as silver bells.

"What do you need?" Barachiel said in a voice filled with delightful musical harmonies.

"Detective Haymaker is investigating a suspicious death," Sara said. "We were hoping you might assist him."

"I don't have time for ordinary homicides. Do you have any idea how many humans murder each other every day? It's practically a form of entertainment for you. Just processing the paperwork is enough to keep a committee of angels and demons busy."

Haymaker leaned over the tray. "This isn't an ordinary homicide. I wouldn't bother you if I didn't think it was worth your attention."

Barachiel sighed. "Very well. Who is the victim?"

"I don't have a name, but I know the specific circumstances of the death."

He crisply and professionally related what he knew to the angel.

After he was done, Barachiel said, "Give me a moment." It vanished.

Virgil watched the children playing in Heaven. They were smiling even though the game seemed monotonous. Catching and throwing was the only activity, and the balls never hit the ground.

A few minutes later, Barachiel reappeared with a very troubled expression on its beautiful face. "I found him. Corporal Scott Hartmann, recently of the United States Army."

"Not a test pilot?" Haymaker said.

"No. His soul now resides in the First Level of Heaven."

"Did he tell you how he died?"

Barachiel paused. "This is the first of several issues. Before his death, he swore a sacred, binding oath to keep that information a secret. He couldn't tell me what he was doing or who he was doing it with. He couldn't tell me anything. It is beyond my power to compel a soul to violate such an oath."

"Oh," Haymaker said. "Too bad, but at least we have a name. Thank you."

He took out a notepad and wrote on it.

"I'm guessing Hell has a different policy regarding sacred oaths," Virgil said. "Why don't you invite a demon up to perform an interrogation?"

"Are you serious?" Barachiel said. "We can't allow demons to enter Heaven. Nor can I condone torture."

"Then send the soul down to Hell for a little while. I smell something fishy. We need to find out what happened to him."

"You're talking nonsense. Once a soul enters Heaven, it has a right to stay according to the Celestial Contract. The reward is eternal. There is another aspect to this case which is far more disconcerting. Summon Mammon. The demon needs to hear this directly."

Now Virgil was worried.

He walked over to a shelf and grabbed a mirror big enough to hang on a wall. It had a gold frame, but the paint had rubbed off in spots to reveal plastic underneath. The cracked glass was barely holding together. Black dirt on the surface was actually some of Virgil's blood which had dried out.

He placed the mirror on the table and said, "Mammon! Mammon! Can you hear me?"

The demon appeared. Flaming eyes peered out from the fattest face Virgil had ever seen. Layers and folds of jiggling flesh seemed to move with a mind of their own. The demon's black suit gleamed like steel armor. Its scaly bat wings could've served as a very grim tent. It wore an obsidian crown.

"What is it?" Mammon said in a voice full of irritation and disdain.

Virgil cleared his throat nervously. "Barachiel wants to tell you something."

"Oh?"

Virgil slid the mirror closer to the silver tray of water.

"It appears we have a situation," Barachiel said. "Corporal Scott Hartmann arrived in Heaven this morning."

"I don't know that name," Mammon said.

"Then take a moment to pull his file. You might find it interesting."

The demon vanished.

The background was a gigantic machine made of stone gears. Millions of square teeth ground together making a sound like a waterfall. Human souls were caught in the gears, and as they went around endlessly, they were mashed and mangled. Virgil wondered what circle of Hell he was seeing.

A couple of minutes later, Mammon reappeared. "This is some kind of trick!" the demon roared. Jets of blue flame shot from its eyes, and smoke poured from its ears.

"No trick," Barachiel replied calmly. "I can't explain it."

"What's wrong?" Virgil said timidly.

"Hartmann was a sinner," Mammon said. "We were ready to receive him in Hell. Heaven stole his soul!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Barachiel said. "We would never even conceive of such a thing. He just showed up on his own."

"Then Final Judgement made a mistake."

"He was never judged."

"What?" Mammon bellowed. "All dead souls are judged!"

"Apparently one slipped through the cracks and ended up in the wrong place."

"I can't accept that. Heaven must've found a loophole in the Celestial Contract. You discovered a way to boost your soul count unfairly."

"We play by the rules," Barachiel said, "same as you. We don't want sinners in Heaven. If there was a way to kick him out, we would, but the Contract is clear. Once a soul arrives here, it doesn't have to leave. The purpose of Heaven is eternal happiness."

"Then ask him how he got there."

"He swore a sacred oath to keep that a secret."

"How
very
convenient," Mammon said, "and of course, you overgrown feather dusters can't violate a sacred oath."

"We didn't create this situation. Stop casting blame."

"This isn't over," Mammon said in a warning tone.

"I agree. We will investigate until we discover what happened."

"We certainly will! Virgil and Lisa, this is your top priority. Learn everything you can about this incident. It must never happen again, or there will be
consequences
."

"Yes, sir," Virgil said.

"And Sara," Barachiel said, "the same goes for you. Tell Alfred. The First Circle Club has a new mission."

"I will," Sara said.

The angel and the demon faded away.

Haymaker turned to his companions. "Wow. I never expected this case would cause so much trouble."

Virgil stepped away and looked at the clutter in the basement while he considered how to proceed. A painting of a Chinese emperor had a cobweb across the face. A box labelled "Porcelain Plates" also showed "Made in Mexico."

"How many detectives saw the body?" he said.

"Just me," Haymaker said. "I was the first investigator to arrive, and the feds swiped the evidence a few minutes later. The forensics technicians didn't even get there in time."

"Why were you called to the scene?"

"I just happened to be close by investigating a different case. I'm on the sixteenth hour of my shift."

Virgil turned back around and faced Haymaker. "That was an incredibly lucky coincidence. Too lucky. I don't believe you just happened to be nearby."

"Are you accusing me of something?" Haymaker furrowed his brow.

"No. I think you were played. Whoever killed Corporal Hartmann placed the body where you would see it first. It was practically dropped in your lap. The perpetrator must want you involved, which means he wants all of us involved. He must know it's our job to look into these situations."

"But why would a murderer intentionally get our attention? Does he want to get caught?"

"Because it's not just a murder," Sara said.

Everybody looked at her.

"What do you mean?" Haymaker said.

"Hartmann being dead is much less interesting than Hartmann getting into Heaven. A sinful soul shouldn't be able to pull off that trick. Something deep and dangerous is going on, and Virgil is right. Our involvement didn't happen by chance. We're
supposed
to investigate, which makes me think it's a trap. Nonetheless, we must accept the risks and proceed. We have our orders."

"OK. So what's the next step?"

She paused. "Our best lead is the Office of Experimental Aero-Physics."

"A secret federal agency that doesn't list an address on its website," Haymaker said. "We're going to hit stone wall after stone wall."

"Sounds like a worthy challenge," Virgil said. "Let's get started. I think the first step is talking to Mei. She might be able to analyze the website and find some electronic clues."

Haymaker nodded. "It's worth a shot. I also have some information I copied off the ID card of one of the agents. I'll go with you."

"I'll hunt down Alfred," Lisa said. "His 'meaningful and important' conversation is done."

Virgil smiled. "Go get him."

He and Haymaker left the basement first. They headed across Chinatown at a brisk walk. Virgil didn't have a jacket, but the cold air didn't bother him. Haymaker was wearing an official Chicago Police parka, and he had his hands in his pockets.

"By the way," Virgil said, "why are you keeping such odd hours? It's not even breakfast time."

"I was on an all-night stakeout. I was about to go home when I got the call about the body in the golf course."

"After we're done with Mei, you can take off and let us continue the investigation."

"I was already planning on it," Haymaker said. "It must be nice not to need sleep."

"I miss having dreams. Perpetual alertness can get monotonous. One has to constantly find things to do."

"Like roaming the city in the middle of the night?"

Virgil didn't respond.

Chinatown was very quiet. Most of the stores had darkened interiors, but a few shopkeepers were getting ready for the day. Chinese restaurants were the main attraction, and beauty salons and gift shops occupied most of the remaining storefronts.

Virgil and Haymaker arrived at Li and Li's Electronics Boutique. Mei's father owned the shop, but Mei was an equal partner in the business. The members of the First Circle Club also worked part-time in the store when they were needed.

The store was locked, but Virgil had a key. He opened the security gate first and then the front door. They went inside.

The little boutique specialized in phones and phone accessories. An entire wall was dedicated to different kinds of chargers. Packages containing cases, covers, headphones, and batteries filled shelves which went all the way to the ceiling. Everything was brightly colored and sometimes made Virgil think of a candy store. The space wasn't much larger than a typical bedroom.

"Lock the door," Virgil said.

Haymaker nodded and locked the front door behind himself.

They went into a back storeroom. Poor lighting and bulky, stacked crates made passage difficult, but they finally reached a wooden staircase at the back. They climbed quietly to the second floor.

Virgil knocked on a yellow wooden door.

A long moment later, Mr. Li opened the door. The Chinese man was wearing red pajamas with dragons drawn in golden thread. He had black hair which had started to turn gray. He usually had a smile on his round face but not at the moment. His eyelids drooped from sleepiness.

"It's early," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Virgil said, "but we need your daughter's help."

Mr. Li looked past Virgil at Detective Haymaker.

"It's bad enough that you're bothering her all the time during the day," Mr. Li said, "but could you at least let her eat breakfast in peace?"

"I'm here on business," Virgil said.

Mr. Li narrowed his eyes. "Time-travelling terrorists again?"