Fillmore: The Sign of Four

Act 3: A Chase for Four

The door opened to Vallejo's office and Fillmore almost jumped out. This thing had gone big, and if it didn't resolve soon, the Safety Patrol was going to be no more, the real cops would show, and headquarters would be converted to a new Hanging Gardens.

Cornelius tapped away at his keyboard. HQ was still abuzz, even though it was late. Real late. Fillmore glanced at the clock and grimaced. He'd already tried pulling the records of every student who'd come to X from India. Only a handful, and they all checked out. "Andman? Anndamn?" Fillmore clicked through Wikipedia. He recalled Mansabdar saying something to that effect, but apparently didn't have the spelling right. Normally, he'd ask Tehama for help, but...

"ANDAMAN!" Half of HQ turned and stared as a grin broke on Fillmore's face. Anza sidled over. "Got something?" "Damn skippy, man. Check this: The Andaman Islands, located to the south of India, are considered an administrativee division of India - kinda like Guam for the US - but there's been a long history of British control and some English institutions still remain."

Ingrid opened her eyes. Her body hurt all over.

Fillmore's fingers clacked again as he pulled up the student listing. "Andaman" turned up nothing, which wasn't that surprising. Not many would like to be associated with what remains to some extent a penal colony. Searching for recent English imports, and cross-referencing by skin tone revealed two possible suspects.

And one had been out the last week with malaria. Confirmed at the hospital.

Fillmore jumped out of his chair. "Tehama, Anza, O'Farrell! Let's do this! He's getting out of class any minute!"

She leaned forward. Felt that all four limbs were chained back to the wall.

The quartet of officers ran down the hall. O'Farrel brought up the rear, screaming "Safety Patrol emergency!" to anyone who would listen as they plowed through the chaos of changing classes. The bell rang as they burst into E block. Kids spilled out of classrooms. The Engineering Club slowly carted a magnificient cantilever bridge formed entirely of dodecahedrons and crafted from molybdenum.

A very short, browned figure with dark, tangled hair strode out from one of the classrooms. Anza pointed, and started running, pulling out his badge. "SAFETY PATROL! STOP!" The borderline midget broke into a monkey-like run through the packed hall, the four officers in rapid pursuit. Tehama quickly fell back behind Anza and Fillmore, being not quite as athletic as those two. There was a scream, followed by a few others, but the two leading men continued their steeplechase throughout X's halls.

Anza jumped a student tying their shoes and Fillmore grabbed a skateboard as the pair chased down the extremely agile Indian. Dodging through students, he threw himself down a stairwell. Anza jumped the stairs as his comrade took the skateboard to the railing. Following the fugitive through doors at the bottom of the stairwell, the pursuers found themselves in the middle of an international bazaar. As Anza continued the chase, Fillmore spotted a stall selling Bangladeshi rock cakes.

The aches. Something felt wrong, sinister...

It was a Hail Mary pass. The cake flew. One hundred and twelve students of no less than 38 ethnicities gaped as the black projectile streaked across the room, crashing into a vat of cheese sauce, in turn tipping over a tub of salsa, causing the complete collapse of the Mexican exhibit into the path of the fleeing foe.

Anza was just finished dragging him out of the wreckage when Tehama showed up. "Fillmore! O'Farrell! I think he's..." She sobbed, pressing up against Cornelius. "Show me."

The two retraced their steps, leaving Anza to reel in the captive. A crowd had gathered. Fillmore pushed his way through. "Dawg, man." The redheaded youth was stretched out cold on the ground, the top half of his skull crushed. The extravagant bridge, splattered in blood, lay next to him. Tehama turned back to Fillmore, sobbing. "They said it slipped. It was just an accident."

Sirens sounded. A team of paramedics and cops rushed in, evacuating the students. Folsom and Vallejo arrived, blanching at the grisly scene. "Get out of here, Fillmore. School's closing for the week." "Vallejio! What about Ingrid, man! We can't leave her!"

Folsom jumped in. "Cornelius, we are bringing in professionals. They will handle this. I expect you and your team to leave here immediately. This is serious. You hear me? IMMEDIATELY!"

Ingrid brought her head down to her hand. Felt her face. Sticky.

Fillnore cast another look at O'Farrell's lifeless body. "Sorry, ma'am. Can't do that. We don't leave people behind. Not happening." Vallejo stepped between the two, casting a sharp, pleading glance. "Fillmore. This isn't like usual. We got a body! A kidnapping! We're out of our league, admit it. C'mon, let's go." Tehama looked up into Cornelius's eyes as he locked his gaze with the Commissioner's.

With one deft movement, Fillmore palmed his badge into Vallejo's hand. "See you, man. Maybe when you learn to care."

Fillmore dragged the still-crying Hawaiian back to headquarters. Anza was reclining against the window, smoking, when he saw Fillmore. Tossing his cigarette out the window, he strode over, taking Tehama off him. "I heard about O'Farrell...it's tough." Shaking his head, he jerked a finger at the interrogation room in. "I got the suspect in back. Had to restrain him a litte - he's vicious." A dark smile spread over Fillmore's features. Cracking his knuckles, he pushed open the door.

The Andaman refugee was slumped at the table, roughly roped to a folding chair. "Ceruda, right? Man, are we going to become the best of friends or what?" No reply. The detective paused, leaning down on the table. "This doesn't need to get ugly. But there's a friend out there. And she's coming back. You dig?" His eyes narrowed. No response.

Realization. She snapped. Tears. Ingrid slumped back against the wall, sobbing.

Anza lifted an eye as a scream emanated from the back room. Tehama was curled up in a chair, still sobbing at O'Farrel's death. Everyone else had gone home, but that wouldn't have stopped Fillmore even if Folsom had been in HQ. Almost simultaneously, there was a knock on the door.

Anza jumped, rushing to open it. Nobody there. He looked around. Nothing. Closing the door, he felt it catch something. Looking down, a manila envelope had been left on the ground. Slipping out the contents, he saw the four of diamonds, embossed with a rhinoceros. "Clubs, spades, and now diamonds..." He sighed. The other item that fell out was an ordinary DVD. He slipped it into his computer, which whirred slightly as it booted up the contents.

It was a video. Blackness. Anza's eyes bugged out as the video kicked in. He looked around. Nobody watching. He quickly saved a copy to his personal account before jumping up and running to the back room. "Fillmore? You...you should see this."

On the unattended monitor, the lifeless body of Ingrid Third, lying bent over a table, splattered with ejaculate, was being brutally fucked.