Ch. 3 – Duncan Strauss Mysteries
Before the Storm
Duncan pulled into a parking space further from the building than he would have liked, the parking spaces near the building were reserved solely for electric vehicles. It was an intern's idea to bolster revenue - and they found that the idea worked. Beyer Dynamic partnered with the "Anther Alliance" shortly afterwards, and their statisticians discerned that the revenue for items labeled as belonging to the "Anther Alliance" had the same sales volume as did other products without the label. Interestingly, the additional revenue came indirectly - other companies copied Beyer, and customers took notice. It was prospective customers choosing electric vehicles more often for the convenience of parking closer that drove Beyer's additional revenue.
Duncan made his way through the parking lot, finally reaching the path that lead to the building's entrance. Walking along the path, he pressed his head back to soak it all in. The building was pure black - he couldn’t see any windows, no superfluous accents, no detail at all. There were two trapezoidal towers, each leaning away from each other as if dismayed by their proximity. Duncan approached the rightmost lofty construction and ran his finger on its edge right where the corner sat. To his surprise it didn't cut his skin in two. The feel of the building was smooth, like some kind of polished granite - but was pitch black. He continued on the path. He noticed that the building's sheen changed from a matted black, to a more reflective crystal - though the difference was subtle and almost imperceivable from a distance. Duncan passed the building's long shadow. About halfway up the shadow the straight line cast by the sun broke suddenly into a ninety degree angle before it broke again and continued its ascent. The entire top rectangular chunk of the rightmost building appeared to have been sliced apart and to have started sliding down - an interesting contrast to its nearby sibling. Duncan reached the doors, the large darkened glass doors whose handles were larger than him. He pulled on them but they didn’t budge. He glanced around for a sign, and noticed some text imprinted right above the door labeled “Beyer Dynamic Executive Suites.” He turned to the building without the misshapen chunk, and noticed that the sign above its door read “Beyer Dynamic.”
He headed toward the door but stopped when he heard muffled voices headed in his direction. There were two voices, one alarmingly deep voice that seemed to shake the building itself, and another which sounded rushed. As the voices grew closer he started making it out,
“So am I right in assuming that Beyer declines to comment?”
It was a woman’s voice, a soft but wildly outspoken tone. She was just beyond the darkened glass doors, with two large men following her. He heard another voice reply, but couldn’t quite make out the words.
“Unfounded? I’ll show you unfounded!” And she was pushed out of the door. Duncan heard an audible click behind her along with a sign that read “No Solicitors.”
“Are you okay?” Duncan asked, making eye contact. She had stunning green eyes, which matched her dress. She was carrying a small spiral tablet of paper with a pen clipped to the rings.
“Yes, I suppose - though these people are making things difficult!” She said raising her voice and her fist to the ominous building.
“What did they decline to comment on?” Duncan cocked his head to the side.
She looked at him, and stopped for a second - as if realizing that she ought to compose herself. “Allegations of embezzlement.” She said straightly.
“Allegations from whom?” Duncan said, taking a step closer - closing the once awkward space between them.
“I’m Kati - I work for the Bay Herald, Business Integrity Division. The allegations seem to be all over digital forums, business review websites, financial markets, you name it! Their revenue is down an average 24% for the last three years!”
“Oh, your saying the parking spaces didn’t work?” Duncan said slyly.
“That was like five years ago, are they supposed to ride on that forever? No, something’s definitely amiss. No business fails that drastically.”
“Well I was actually here to do some investigating too.”
“Oh really?” She said inching forward
“We’ve had a string of murders, and I was going to reach out to try and get some answers.”
“Good luck with that,” she said looking at the door - and the inconvenient sign.
Duncan approached and tried the door - it seemed bolted shut. He knocked on the glass, and waiting for a moment. Nobody answered.
“It took me five weeks just to get in and talk with them, and then they refused to answer my questions! Can you believe that?!” She said. “Oh speaking of, you mentioned a murder? What do you do?”
“I’m a sort of reporter like yourself - except I work for the GBS. We’re hired by businesses as general security - but recently we’ve started a subscription service. And they hired me to do the investigating.”
“So you’re an investigator? Like those books from half a century ago?”
“Yeah, I suppose I am. Although I could never really get into them, much too dense.” Duncan remarked humbly.
“Those were some of the only assignments I refused, I had better things to do than to sift through mountains of archaic verbiage.” She said with an ironic trill.
Duncan smiled, “Well I best be going - I have much to do,” he said glancing at the building before him. “Let’s get together sometime, and we can talk a bit more about it.” They locked eyes.
“Absolutely,” she hastily dug around in her bag, “give me a call sometime.” She pulled out a small card with her details on it, extending it to him.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Duncan grabbed the card.
Nicki’s tires hit the curb, and she came to a stop. She pulled the handle and got out. She walked into the bowling alley, and was greeted by someone a few years younger than she was, “Hello! Welcome to Books, Bowling, and Beer! All alone today, miss?”
“Yes unfortunately; I’m with the GBS and I’m investigating a recent series of murders.” Nicki replied.
“Oh wow, ” The young man replied - he took a half step backwards, drew his hands in towards his body, his eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot upwards, “what can I do for you then?”
Nicki dug in the bag she held slung around her shoulder, and pulled out the bowling shoe in a zipped evidence bag marked ‘GBS.’ Even through the plastic, the shoe still had a deathly smell to it. She glanced at the young man, his nose suddenly scrunched up. “Uh yes, this was found recently in less than fortunate circumstances, I was hoping you or somebody here could provide some information.” She motioned to hand him the bag, but he took another step backwards pointing his finger-tips straight upward.
“Uhh, I think I’ll ask the manager,” he said scrambling out the back of his enclosed counter space.
“Okay,” Nicky replied. “Is it really that bad?” She thought.
Nicky glanced around. The counter space that once held the young worker acted as a gate to funnel readers, bowlers, and drinkers toward the space beyond. She glanced past the counter and saw a dozen bowling lanes. She started walking toward them. There were a few people bowling - and she was surprised given that it was just past noon. She glanced at their shoes. The first group wore blue shoes - no match. The second wore green-striped shoes - no match. The third group who seemed to be separated from the rest wore white shoes - no match. “Dammit” she said aloud. The first two groups turned and stared before continuing their streaks. She glanced back at the plastic bag she held in her hand - the reddish hue seemed somewhat faded - almost sunbleached, at least compared with the red accents along the wall. “Must be an old shoe.” She concluded.
A man with a tucked in shirt approached her. “Hello, detective. My name is Robert Blancher, you can call me Bob” he said extending his hand.
Nicki grasped the hand, and begun “Yes, I have a lead in a case I’m investigating, and I was hoping you could shed some insight.” She held up the bag.
“Ahhh yes, we do carry some bowling shoes.” He grabbed the bag and held it upwards. “Mmm yes, this particular shoe we barely received for retail last week. And we haven’t even marked them for sale.”
He continued, “Ahh but did you notice this logo here?” He pointed toward the left side of the shoe near the heel. It was a black sigil on the faded red leather. The sigil was mostly inconsequential, but contained a circular olive branch surrounding several silhouetted people clustered in the center.
“I’ve never seen that logo before, I assumed it was the manufacturer of the shoe.” Nicki replied.
“No, not quite.” He grasped at the tongue of the shoe inside the bag, and lifted it up. The tongue contained a logo of its own - a bowling ball, along with the ‘Beyer / CB’ insignia drawn over it. “That’s the brand of the shoe, one of the best in my estimations.”
“So what is the other logo then?” She asked, curious.
“I’ve seen it on some of the bowlers’ shoes, I’m not quite sure what it’s about.” He paused. “Well now that I think about it, those bowlers on lane 11,” he pointed at the far lane and stopped.
Nicki glanced, and to her surprise the bowlers had left.
“Oh they must have left,” he said.
“Did they come out the front?” She asked, rhetorically.
“No, those guys tend to take the back exit. Sometimes getThere drivers find it more convenient than our parking lot.”
“You mind if I have a look?”
“Not at all,” he smiled.
As she left with the bag, he grabbed a can from below the counter and began spraying, pinching his nose.
She approached the back, and went through a dark hallway. It felt almost unnerving, and lasted longer than she expected. She kept moving toward the visible ‘Exit’ sign overhead as if there were a certain demise creeping from behind.
She reached the door and pressed on the handle. The light was blinding, and she strained to adjust. Nicki glanced around, she was in the back - and it was much cleaner than she expected. The back featured a half dozen parking places, two of which were taken, alongside a round driveway that connected on both sides to the busy streets beyond. Nicki glanced to her left. Up against the wall stood a dumpster. She walked up to the dumpster and glanced around. She couldn’t see much. A few filled bags, and some cans. She got down on her hands and knees and checked beneath the dumpster. She caught a hint of white. She reached her hand in, it just barely fit between the ground and the steel of the large box. She felt around, and landed on something leathery. She grabbed it and pulled. She got up and examined her find. Nicki’s eyes squinted, and her brow furled. The bowling shoe was a right shoe, and it was white - but appeared to be the same brand and style of the one in the plastic bag; although it lacked the ominous icon on the heel. The shoe was scuffed, but altogether in good shape. She opened a fresh bag, and slipped the shoe inside. She went back in and approached the manager, who adjusted his posture when she came near.
“Do you keep surveillance of the back?” Nicki asked.
“Of course, our insurance company requires it.” He replied. “Why do you ask?”
“I found this shoe, and I’m curious how it got there.”
“Oh excellent! Yes, right this way.” He led her down a different hallway into a small office with what appeared to be a processor from twenty years ago. “Is there a specific timeline you’re looking at?”
“I’ll need everything from within the last month - we’re unsure of the timeline.” She replied.
“Alright, I can transfer that to your processor if you’d like.”
“Yes, that would be perfect.” She set her pocket device on the old and large processor, and heard an audible ‘ding.’ She lifted it up, “thank you very much! You’ve been a huge help!”
“Of course! Anything to help keep the monsters at bay! Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that’ll be all, I have my share of work to do,” she smiled, lifting her processor up.
“Well feel free to stop by and have a round of bowling on us!” He handed her a wooden token which bore a small bowling ball impression.
“I’ll be sure not to squander it!” Nicki smiled, and left. Before she got out the door she noticed a small flyer attached to the window,
“The Biggest Tribulation, a philosophy forum meet and greet.”
“Huh, looks boring.” Nicki thought.
Duncan held his processor up to the small black pad to the right of his door, and heard a beep, saw a green light, and felt a light click on the handle. He turned the handle and went inside. He was greeted by a expansive view that surrounded him - the lights that shined into his apartment of the Greater Bay Area were stunning. It was so impressive how everything kind of just fit together, everything had its proper place. He took a second to appreciate it, gleaning every detail he’d seen a thousand times before. He tapped the wall beside the window, and the shade began closing.
He walked over to the reflective machine sitting on his glass-like counter-top and pressed a button. The black liquid began pouring into the glass he had set there not twelve hours ago, filling the air with its intoxicating aroma. He grabbed the glass and slumped into a chair, resting his feet on the table before him, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He struggled to deduce who it might’ve been.
He walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and swung open the door. There was a woman in front of him. She looked at him. He shook his head, “not tonight I’m afraid.”
“But sir, you’ve paid in advance!”
“How about you come in, and we can have a chat instead?” Duncan smiled.
Hours had passed. Duncan always was interested in the life trajectory of others. “Well, it’s late, but you can stay the night if you want.” He motioned for the couch, an admittedly comfortable couch.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” She dropped her gown.
“You make a compelling offer, but I’m afraid I must decline.” He said raising the corner of his mouth in some kind of strange combination of sympathy and contempt.
“Whatever,” she said, laying down.
Duncan awoke to his processor buzzing, he answered, "Kathryn?"
"Duncan, how are you?" She asked.
"I'm okay, didn't sleep too well last night," he answered.