Date: Tue, 8 Mar 1994 13:28:55 -0700 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: L J Constantine Subject: The Rules of the Game I "The Rules of the Game" A Highlander/Forever Knight Crossover By Tara O'Shea Part I The phone rang. "Curiosities, can I help you?" "Niamh-chan?" the voice on the other end asked, hesitantly. "Sempai! Where are you?" "At the hotel. Is now a good time?" "It's a wonderful time, I'm about to close up. You're bringing the gaikoku-jin?" "Hai." "I can't wait to meet her. I'll expect you within the hour then?" "Hai." "Talkative as ever I see. I've missed you." "It's been too long. Within the hour, then. Ja ne." * * * A crowd had gathered around the scene. Nick flashed his badge, and they parted before him like the red sea. The gawkers then closed back in, craning their necks to catch a sight of whatever tragedy had occurred in the past half hour. "What have we got?" Nick stepped over the chalk outlined body to Nat's side. "Looks like a decapitation." She pointed to where the outline conspicuously stopped, only to be picked up again a meter away, where the head had been found. "Whatever did it was razor sharp." "Any ID?" "An American passport in the purse, issued to one Kyoko Nomura. The picture matches the victim." She finished bagging the hands, and the body was removed. Nick stared at the body, digging at a spark of memory. "Anyone see or hear anything?" "One of the streetwalkers says she thought the alley got hit by lightning." One of the beat cops replied. "Came over to investigate, and found the body. Said she saw someone running out the back of the alley, but didn't stick around to see who. Called the cops from the pay phone across the street." "Lightning? There isn't a cloud in the sky." Schanke frowned, looking up. "Could she tell if it was a man or a woman?" "She said it was too dark, detective. She only saw an outline from the streetlamp at the end of the alley." "Thanks." Nick began walking down the alley, towards the other end, listening intently. Nothing. "Penny." Nat put her hand on his shoulder. "hmmm?" "For your thoughts." "When I figure out what they are, you'll be the first to know." * * * "Sempai?" Niamh stirred in her chair, and glanced at her watch. "uhmmmmh..... 1am. Where the hell is she?" She had a crick in her neck, and stretched, wondering what had woken her. "Fours hours late..." The apartment door chimed, and she realised that must have been what had brought her out of her nap. There was a familiar prickling sensation down the back of her neck, as she unlatched the door, smiling. "I dozed off, you're so late..." She didn't see the blade until it was almost too late. * * "According to the passport, she was born May 15, 1965 in San Francisco, but according to this fax from city records, Kyoko Nomura died May 27, 1965." "So the passport is a fake?" Schanke looked up from his hamburger. "And we have a mystery woman in our morgue." Nick sat on the edge of his desk. "What about prints?" Schanke noticed the drip of mustard on his tie, and was tried to wipe it off with a kleenix. "I've had them sent out, we should have the FBI results by tomorrow." Nat couldn't find a chair, and poked Nick, who moved so she could sit down at his desk. "The passport was issued in New York, and I faxed them the photo and info. They tried the DMV, but there was no license or state ID on the body, and according to records, she wasn't a resident." "Any clues as to what killed her?" Nick asked. "That's a little obvious, don't you think?" Schanke laughed. "I mean, c'mon. No head." "I think what Nick means is 'what was she decapitated with', am I right?" Nick stopped glaring at his partner and nodded. "Having very little evidence, if I had to make my best guess, I'd say a sword." "A sword. In downtown Toronto, we have some lunatic beheading people with swords? Great, the press is just going to love this one." "The press isn't going to hear any such thing." Stonetree's expression was carved in granite. "Last thing we need is a media circus. The key found in the victim's purse is from The Royal York. I have a warrant for the three of you to go over and search the suite. It was registered to Nomura, but the desk says there was another woman staying there as well. We have no idea who she is, and no description. They had just checked in that afternoon." "Well get right on it, captain." Nick waved for Schanke to hurry up and finish his burger, trying to ignore the smell of the practically raw meat. * * * Nick didn't even blink when they got to the suite. He'd seen grander rooms. Apparently Schanke had not. "Damn, one night here would pay for Jenny's college education." "Not quite, Schanke." Nat laughed, heading off towards the bedroom to see if she could find anything interesting. "And the other guest hasn't returned?" Nick asked the hotel manager, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable. "They checked in at 4 o'clock this afternoon, and none of the staff recall seeing the two of them leave." "Do you remember anything about the other guest? Height, hair colour..." "She was taller than the first woman, and was wearing a trenchcoat and fedora, like someone from an old movie. I can't recall the colour of her eyes, but I do remember she had a deep voice, scratchy like she'd smoked too many cigarettes. Ms. Nomura did most of the talking, though. She made the reservation by phone from Japan three days ago." "Nick!" Nat called from the bedroom. She had in one gloved hand a photograph, with a phone number scrawled on the back. Smiling in the photo was the dead woman, her arm around another woman with bright blue eyes and fine dark hair. "Is this the woman you saw?" "No, detective. I would have remembered the eyes. No, I've never seen this woman before." Schanke sighed loudly, and Nick studied the phone number. "Is there any way we can trace what numbers were dialled from this room since Ms. Nomura checked in?" "Certainly, it's all on computer." * * * "Only one call, to the same number on the photo." Nick picked up the phone to call the number in to get an address. "8:48 pm." "The body was found at 9:53." Nat supplied. "An hour later," Schanke mused aloud. "Think whoever Nomura called may have killed her?" "Or the other guest," Nick supplied, then put the receiver back to his ear as Norma read off the address. He scribbled it down for Schanke's sake, and set the phone back in its cradle. "It's an antique shop over on Yonge. Owner is named Corrine Matthews." "Let's go." Schanke headed towards the door. "Nat, can you finish up here?" "No problem." She shrugged, and headed back towards the bedroom to supervise forensics as they dusted for prints. * * * Niamh ducked, and heard the sword whistle through the air where she'd been. Her own blade was in the bedroom. She leapt back, clearing the last of the fog from her mind as her assailant made another desperate swing at her head. "Who are you?" She feinted left, then lurched back towards the bedroom, hissing as the intruder's sword drew a line of fire along her side. "Answer me!" She stared into the darkhaired woman's cold eyes, and suddenly matched her with the photograph her teacher had sent her the week before. "Martine Phillips?" Her confusion must have shown in her eyes, as the woman lunged again, and Niamh pushed a rocking chair in her path, diving into the darkened bedroom as she heard the wicker chair splinter and crack. She found the hilt of her daito in the dark, and saw the outline of Phillips in the doorway as her eyes darted to the bay window behind her bed. "Shit, this is gonna hurt," she muttered, tossing the quilt from the bed in Phillips face before the other woman's eyes could adjust to the dimness, and crashed through the glass and slid down the canvas awning over her shop's door to the sidewalk. * * * "This does not look good," Schanke observed as they pulled up. The ground in front of the store was littered with broken glass, and Nick could smell blood even if Schanke couldn't. "Stay with the car and radio in." He didn't give his partner the chance to reply, but took off, following the scent of blood. Don, being used to this kind of particular behaviour from his supposed partner, sighed, and reached for the radio. * * * Nick stepped into an alley, making sure he was out of sight of the caddie, and took to the sky. * * * Niamh stashed the daito behind the row of candles, and crawled inside the confessional. She began carefully, with muttered curses, to pick slivers of glass out of her arms and feet. Her shirt was in rags, drenched with blood that was still seeping steadily from the gash in her side, turning her jeans a deep purple. She froze when she heard the creak of the heavy wooden door at one end of the old church, and held her breath. Nick saw the bloody footprints, and silently followed them. He could hear the staccato beat of someone's heart, someone who was afraid, and from the whimpers that only reached his ears, someone in pain. * * * Schanke finished had just put down the radio when something, or someone landed on the roof of the caddie. "What the..." he reached for his piece just as a trenchcoat clad form slid over the roof on the driver's side and took off at a dead run across the street. * * * Nick, gun in hand, pulled the curtain of the confessional aside, and was greeted by the sight of the dark haired woman from the photograph, breathing shallowly, the stench of blood surrounding her. "Ms. Matthews?" Nick asked, bending down to examine her wound. She nodded dumbly, very confused. "I'm detective Knight, Metro." He flashed his badge rather belatedly. "We've got to get you to a hospital." "No." she replied, rather too forcefully. "You're going to bleed to death." Niamh noticed he seemed rather pale, and wondered how long he'd been on the force if the sight of blood was so unnerving. "No hospitals." She could feel some of the tiny cuts beginning to heal, and prayed he wouldn't notice. The blood seeped between her fingers, hot and sticky. She knew in another few seconds she was going to lose consciousness, and gritted her teeth, but the darkness closed in anyway. * * * Schanke swore as the figure disappeared into the maze of streets, and made his way back to the caddie. He blinked as he registered the fact that his partner was back in the driver's seat, radioing to dispatch for an ambulance. He saw the unconscious woman in the back seat, quietly bleeding all over the upholstery. "Dammit, that's too long." Nick swore into the radio, "Schanke, how close is the nearest hospital?" "Fifteen minutes away." "She's not gonna make it unless we drive her in." Nick swore under his breath, and as Schanke hopped in, gunned the engine and turned on the siren. "Whose's our guest?" Schanke glanced nervously at the prone figure behind him. "Corrine Matthews. It looks like whoever got Nomura went after her as well." "Are we talking serial killer here?" "Maybe." "After you left, someone else jumped from the busted window over the shop. Landed on the car and took off. Only saw a trenchcoat. I radioed in the general direction they were headed, but he or she was moving pretty quick. I lost em, but maybe a patrol car will pick'em up." Nick's dark blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel as he manoeuvred through late night traffic at an ungodly speed. As they slowed to round a corner, the supposed half-dead woman in the back seat suddenly threw open the door and bailed. Nick slammed on the brakes seeing the barefoot Matthews racing through lanes of traffic to disappear into a dark residential street. "What the hell?" Schanke's mouth hung open. "She looked about two quarts low.... No way she coulda...." Nick thought of going after her again, but realised that he was missing some serious pieces of the puzzle. If she healed so quickly, it was possible she was one of his kind..... Or another kind all together. =========================================================================