54: The Next Morning

Alex woke around six, his usual waking time, feeling refreshed. He lingered a bit in the shower, taking his time, but by six-thirty, he was dressed and heading downstairs, wondering if anyone else was up and if Finlay was doing any better. When he entered the kitchen, he found Glorfindel and Daeron sitting there with Finrod, all of them drinking coffee.

“Good morning,” all three Elves said in greeting.

“Do you guys ever sleep?” Alex couldn’t help asking as he went to the Mr. Coffee and poured himself a mug.

Glorfindel grinned. “Of course we do, Alex. After you went to bed, Darren and I went over to see Ron and spend some time with him and the ellith and then we got back here around, what, three?” Daeron nodded and Glorfindel continued. “Slept a couple of hours and now we’re about to have some breakfast.”

“Yeah, well that’s what I mean,” Alex said. “You sleep for two hours and then you’re fine. The days when I could go without sleep for forty-eight hours and not feel it are long gone. Guess I’m getting old.” He frowned into his coffee, as if the thought pained him.

“It happens eventually,” Glorfindel said softly, his expression wistful.

Alex looked up at the tone. “Well, you don’t need to trot out a cane for me just yet, so let’s forget about it. What are your plans for me today?”

All three Elves gave him surprised looks and Alex grinned. “I know you all well enough to know that while I was sleeping you were all plotting, separately and together, on how to deal with me. Did you call Amroth?”

“How did—?” Glorfindel started to say and Alex shook his head.

“I’d’ve done the same. So, what did he have to say?”

“He was in agreement with you on your plan to draw Farrell away to deal with him privately,” Finrod answered before Glorfindel could speak.

“It’s really the only option,” Alex said, “unless you’re fine with other people getting hurt or killed.”

“No, we are not,” Glorfindel said, “but neither are we happy about the idea, however necessary it may prove to be.”

“So what exactly have you come up with?”

“For now, nothing, except for you to go about your lawful business, but there will be others keeping watch,” Glorfindel told him. “Val’s volunteered to accompany you to college. He’s interested in seeing how you conduct your classes anyway, so even when we’ve dealt with Farrell, you may still have him hanging over your shoulder asking questions about your teaching style.”

“I’m sure I can live with it,” Alex said with a snort, “and there are some questions I want to ask him about linguistics anyway, so I’m okay with it. Okay, so the college is covered. How long do we wait until we force Farrell to follow me?”

“First we must determine the time and the place,” Finrod replied. “Valandur says your running has to appear natural to Farrell. You are not the type to run immediately though, otherwise you would have gone last night before any of us could stop you. We must wait for Farrell to make his next move before we make ours.”

“That could put others in danger,” Alex said with a frown. “That’s unacceptable. I should’ve run as soon as I could, forced Farrell to come after me.”

“And then what?” Glorfindel asked. “Shoot him as soon as he came into sight? Then it’s murder and not self-defense. No, Amroth is right. We need to plan this very carefully. You know this. You’ve been trained for it.”

Alex nodded, not saying anything, and the others fell silent as well. After a few minutes, though, Alex noticed the time. “I should get some breakfast,” he said. “I told Michaelson I’d be at the station at nine and then I need to be at my office by ten. How’s Finlay doing, do you know?”

“Still sleeping, as far as I know,” Glorfindel answered. “Dan and Roy have been keeping an eye on him through the night. We’ll see how he’s feeling when he wakes.”

“Well he needs to go to the station to make a statement as well, he and Sakari,” Alex pointed out.

“We can always take them later,” Daeron responded, rising from his seat. “We were about to make breakfast for ourselves, so why don’t you sit here and I’ll throw something together. Eggs Benedict okay with everyone?”

“That’s pretty fancy for a Friday morning, isn’t it?” Alex asked as he took the seat Daeron had vacated.

“It’s not as complicated as it looks. The hollandaise sauce is the hardest part. Loren, why don’t you put that together while I do the eggs?”

Glorfindel got up and complied with Daeron’s orders, pulling down a small saucepan from the overhead rack and bringing it to the stove, then gathering the ingredients needed to make the sauce. Alex drank his coffee. “My office hours are from ten until two. I have that appointment with Ron at four.”

“What’s your schedule like on Saturday?” Glorfindel asked as he began whisking the sauce.

“Well, I have the Quenya class in the morning and didn’t you want me to be at the council meeting you have scheduled?”

“Yes,” Glorfindel replied. “You’ll be here anyway and then you can go with Val to class. But that only takes us to around noon. You have any other plans for the weekend?”

“Mostly working on a couple papers for my linguistic classes. They’re due on Monday. Oh, and I have a date for Saturday night.”

All three Elves gave him surprised looks and Alex actually blushed. “Hey! It’s not a big deal, and it’s not technically a date. Felicity and I are going Dutch. We’re having dinner at Rosalia’s and then going to the concert at the Grange Hall afterwards.”

“Going Dutch?” Finrod asked. “Are not the Dutch from Holland?”

Daeron chuckled. “He means that each will pay for his or her own dinner. Usually, the man pays for the woman’s dinner, but if he does than it’s considered a date. If they go Dutch, then they’re just two people sharing a table and nothing more and there are no further obligations or expectations on the part of either party.”

Finrod sighed. “Mortal customs are so complicated.”

“No more than ours,” Glorfindel pointed out, “just complicated on a different scale.”

Just then, Sakari came into the kitchen, looking both shy and distraught.

“Bonjour, Sakari,” Alex said, being the first to notice her. The others, even Finrod, echoed him, smiling at the Woman.

“Bonjour,” she said politely, then continued, sounding distressed. “Edward does not wake up. Please, why does he not wake?”

“Did Dan or Roy put him into healing sleep?” Daeron asked in English.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Glorfindel replied with a frown. “They didn’t mention it.”

“Where are they?” Alex asked, getting up.

“Sleeping, as far as I know,” Glorfindel said. “We’d better wake them up.”

“I’ll go,” Alex said as he came to Sakari, taking her hand. He switched to French. “Come on, we’ll have Dan or Roy look at him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Sakari looked doubtful, but nodded, allowing Alex to lead her back upstairs to the second floor. They stopped at one of the doors and Alex knocked. “Dan? It’s Alex. Something’s wrong with Finlay.”

A moment later the door opened to reveal Elladan dressed in a pair of jeans and pulling on a T-shirt. His feet were bare.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in French.

“Edward does not wake up,” Sakari answered.

“Did you guys put him in healing sleep?” Alex asked in English.

Elladan shook his head. “No. We didn’t think it necessary. He should simply wake on his own.” He headed down the hall, stopping at the next door down. He didn’t bother to knock, but went straight in and Alex saw Elrohir already sitting up and pulling the bedcovers off, revealing his naked form. Sakari gasped — in shock or delight, Alex didn’t know— and turned quickly around, blushing and looking very embarrassed. Alex just grinned. The Twins were too busy conversing in Sindarin to notice the effect one of them was having on the young Woman. Alex pulled Sakari away.

“Let’s go see Ed,” he suggested and she nodded gratefully, and they went further down the hall and around the corner to another room, leaving the Twins to follow on their own. Sakari opened the door and Alex saw a room that was larger than those used by the Twins. This was clearly meant for more than one person for the room was dominated by a queen-size bed. Finlay lay with his eyes closed, his breathing appearing normal. Sakari went to him, looking concerned as she brushed his hair.

“Edward, Edward, réveille-toi!” she cried softly, but her husband continued slumbering on.

Elladan and Elrohir, now dressed similarly as his brother, entered and Alex pulled Sakari away so they could examine Finlay. The Twins spoke to one another softly in Sindarin, too soft for Alex to hear. Finally, they straightened and turned to speak to the Mortals.

“He’s in healing sleep, but we didn’t put him under, and none of the other healers have been here,” Elladan explained to Alex, speaking English.

“Can you bring him out of it?” Alex asked.

“No. Only the person who put him into the state can do so,” Elrohir answered. Both Elves looked troubled.

“Il est malade?” Sakari asked simply.

Elrohir went to her, taking her by the shoulders and smiling down at her. “Non, mon enfant, il n’est pas malade. Il est profondément endormi.”

“So if you didn’t put him in healing sleep, who did?” Alex asked.

“That is certainly the question,” Elladan replied. “At the moment, all we can do is keep him comfortable and watch over him. He may wake on his own. Sometimes we instruct the person’s mind to do that once it feels healed enough rather than us bringing the person out of it, but there’s no way to know if that is the case here.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s just great! Michaelson is expecting Finlay at the station with me at nine to give our statements. It’s already going on eight. What do I tell Michaelson?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Elladan said somewhat archly. “In the meantime, I’ll stay and keep watch. Take Sakari with you and get her to eat something. Roy, why don’t you go and explain things to Loren and Finrod?”

“Come on,” Elrohir said to Alex and Sakari, speaking French for her sake. “No, Sakari, Dan will stay with Edward. He’ll be fine, I promise. Alex, take her downstairs while I stop off and put some shoes on. I’ll be right down.”

Alex nodded and with a little bit of encouragement he managed to bring Sakari along. They went downstairs where Glorfindel, Daeron and Finrod were digging into their Eggs Benedicts. Valandur was also there. They all looked up at their entrance.

“Dan’s with Finlay now,” Alex explained in English. “Roy’s on his way down. Apparently Finlay’s in healing sleep but neither one of them put him into it and as far as they know none of the other healers did it.”

“That’s odd,” Glorfindel commented.

“Well, in the meantime, why don’t you two sit and have some breakfast,” Daeron suggested, rising to go to the stove. “It won’t take long to make. Have some juice in the meantime.”

Elrohir entered about then and went immediately to pour some coffee, speaking in rapid-fire Sindarin, apparently explaining the situation. All the Elves looked troubled at whatever the ellon was telling them. Alex had been thinking about what he’d been told and coming to a conclusion, he spoke up, interrupting the Elves.

“If none of you put Finlay in healing sleep, who does that leave us with?” he asked as Daeron put a plate in front of him.

“One of the Maiar or even a Vala,” Valandur answered. “Perhaps Lady Estë looked in on him and noticing his distress put him into healing sleep.”

“Well, can’t you call her or something to find out?” Alex demanded.

“Sure, Alex,” Glorfindel said somewhat scathingly. “I’ve got all the Valar on speed dial or I can just snap my fingers and they’ll come running.”

“Fine, whatever,” Alex retorted. “Just a suggestion.” He glanced at the clock and scooped up some eggs and English muffin and shoved them into his mouth, taking a last swig of juice as he stood. “I’ve got to go. Let me know when Finlay wakes, if he ever does.”

“I will accompany you,” Valandur said, also rising.

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll be ready to leave in about five minutes.”

“I will wait for you at the front door,” Valandur said as the two left the kitchen.

However, it was closer to ten minutes before Alex came back downstairs, carrying a messenger bag. “Sorry,” he said in apology.

“Not a problem,” Valandur said with a smile. “Shall we go?”

Glorfindel came down the hall just then to see them off. “We’ll let you know if there is any change,” he said to Alex. “In the meantime, stay safe.”

“That’s my motto,” Alex quipped and then he and Valandur were out the door.

The drive to the police station was done in silence to Alex’s relief and then they were being ushered into Michaelson’s office. The police chief looked up at their entrance.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Finlay’s … indisposed at the moment,” Alex answered.

“How… convenient,” Michaelson retorted, clearly unconvinced.

“It is the truth,” Valandur interjected. “We revealed ourselves to Mr. Finlay and his lovely wife last night. Sakari took the news quite well, but I am afraid Mr. Finlay did not. Elladan and Elrohir spent the night watching over him. He is in healing sleep for the moment.”

Michaelson frowned. “Will he be alright?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“So I’ve been told,” Valandur replied.

“And you are?”

“Ah, forgive me. I am Valandur Voronwion, but I go by the name Val Landry here,” the Elf said, sticking out his hand in Mortal fashion.

Michaelson looked a bit nonplused at the action, but he stood and held out his hand as well. “Pleased to meet you,” he said politely. “May I ask what business you have here?”

“He’s my bodyguard,” Alex couldn’t help saying before Valandur could respond.

Michaelson gave them a disbelieving look. Valandur chuckled. “Loren feels Alex should not be left alone. I am more his… um… minder than anything.” Alex grimaced at that.

“Now that I can believe,” Michaelson said, sitting down, gesturing for the other two to sit.

“Loren said that he’ll bring the Finlays around later, once Ed’s woken,” Alex said.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to live with that,” Michaelson said with a sigh. “Let’s get your statement, though, since you appear to be the main target.”

“Any more news?”

“Still waiting for the forensics report. We’re still trying to figure out how he even got a shot in. That angle is all wrong.”

“Yet, apparently he managed somehow,” Valandur said. “I would like to see this supposed shooting locale, if I may. I may be able to shed some light on the subject.”

“How’s that?” Michaelson demanded skeptically.

“Trust me, Dave, if Val thinks it’s worth his time to look the scene over, you should let him,” Alex said. “He’s had more experience in this than all of us put together.”

“Oh?” Michaelson looked at Valandur who nodded serenely.

“I am more than just the High King’s chief loremaster, David. I am also his spymaster and have been for longer than you can perceive. You think your civilization is ancient, but it only stretches back a mere seven thousand years. My memory goes back to when the Elves woke in starlight by the shores of Cuiviénen, though I am of the third generation from the First Ones.”

“Oh,” was Michaelson’s only response and Alex didn’t blame him. He knew enough about elven history to know just how long ago that truly was and the thought of sitting next to so ancient a being suddenly made him feel nervous. Even someone like Glorfindel did not evoke such awe in him.

Valandur turned to look at him, as if he had read his mind, his eyes twinkling with merriment, and that seemed to help him to regain his equilibrium and he found himself breathing normally again.

“Can we get on with it?” he asked. “I’ve got to be at the office soon.”

“Yeah, sure. Conrad!” Michaelson called and his second appeared at the door. “Take Grant here to get his statement.”

The officer nodded and gestured for Alex to follow him. Valandur stayed seated. “Perhaps, while I am waiting for Alex, someone could give me a tour. I would like to know more about your law enforcement.”

“Do you have anything like police?” Michaelson asked.

“Not in the sense that you mean,” Valandur answered. “We have city guards whose task it is to assure that people behave themselves in a seemly manner when in public and to assist any who may require it. We do not have criminals but even Elves can show indiscretion, especially the young.”

Michaelson grunted. “Yeah, well, I can relate to that. Here, let me find someone to take you around. You won’t be able to visit the jail though. I don’t approve of people coming to gape at prisoners, some of them there because of their own foolishness and not because of any criminal intent on their part.”

“A commendable sentiment, and I have no need to see the jail. I am more interested in the workings of your police, how you keep the peace and go about solving crimes.”

They both stood and Michaelson went out into the squad room and looked about, then gestured for Valandur to follow him to where a young Woman sat before a computer. She looked up as they approached.

 “This is Detective Phillips,” Michaelson said to Valandur. “Detective, this is Valandur. He’s interested in knowing more about how we do things here. You’re working on the burglary case, aren’t you?”

She nodded, giving the Elf a critical look as she stood and offered her hand, which he took.

“Perhaps you could walk him through the procedure, show him what you’ve got. You needn’t spend too much time on it as he’ll be leaving as soon as Grant’s finished giving his statement.”

“Sure, Chief,” the woman said.

“Detective Phillips is one of our best,” Michaelson assured Valandur. “Have Grant stop by my office before he leaves.”

He left to go back to his office. Valandur smiled at the detective. “And what was burgled?” he asked.

“Huh? Oh, ah, we’ve had a string of burglaries since Christmas,” she said, sitting down and gesturing for Valandur to take the chair that was beside the desk. “Seems someone is no longer in the Christmas spirit and several houses have been hit and….”

About fifteen minutes later, Alex returned to the squad room from where he had been giving his statement and sighted Valandur sitting with Detective Phillips. They looked up at his approach. He gave them a quizzical look.

“I didn’t think I was gone long enough for you to get into trouble so soon,” he said, staring at Valandur who was handcuffed.

Detective Phillips grinned. “I was showing Val how handcuffs work, since they do not have them where he’s from.” She pulled out a key and unlocked the cuffs. Valandur removed the cuffs, returning them to the detective and stood.

“Thank you for your time, Detective. It has been most instructive and enjoyable.” He gave her a short bow of respect.

“Anytime, Val,” she said, smiling.

“Val?” Alex couldn’t help saying, giving the Elf a knowing grin. “Does she know you’re married?”

“Yes,” Valandur replied as he took Alex by the elbow and steered him toward Michaelson’s office. “David wishes to see you before we leave.”

“Well, he’d better make it quick,” Alex said with a huff of annoyance. “I need to be at the office soon. I don’t expect anyone to show up looking for help this early in the term, but I do need to be there.”

“I am sure it will not take long,” Valandur said soothingly. They reached Michaelson’s office, but the door was closed.

“Damn!” Alex muttered. “I don’t have time for this. What the hell does he need to tell me that he didn’t tell me earlier?”

Valandur gave the Mortal a tolerant look. “You must learn patience, Alex. If David feels he needs to speak with you now, then it must be important.”

“To him, maybe, but not necessarily to me,” Alex retorted.

Valandur nodded in acknowledgement of the truth of that statement and started to say something when Michaelson’s door opened. “Ah good, you’re here,” the police chief said. “Step into my office for a moment, Grant.” He opened the door wider and stepped back to let the two in before closing the door again and then went around to the other side of his desk to face his visitors.

“Make it quick, Dave. I’m on the clock.”

“Then I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version,” Michaelson said, leaning on his desk. There was no levity in his tone. “Do. Not. Go. After. Farrell.”

There was an expectant pause.

“That’s it?” Alex asked, looking skeptical.

“Do I need to give you chapter and verse, Grant?” Michaelson retorted, straightening. “This is a police matter at the moment. By rights, I should be calling in the FBI, but the fewer outside eyes around here, the better. I know you’re trained and I respect that, but you are no longer an agent, you’re a private citizen and if you and your friends” — his gaze flicked briefly to Valandur before returning to Alex — “insist on interfering I’ll have the lot of you up for obstructing a police investigation. So I’m telling you right here and now.” He leaned over his desk again in emphasis. “Do. Not. Interfere. Let us do our job, it’s what we get paid for.”

Before Alex could respond, Valandur spoke. “I assure you, David, that we have no intention of interfering with your investigation. Now, as Alex keeps pointing out, he needs to be elsewhere, so we will leave now.”

“Okay, get out of here,” Michaelson said as he sat down, already grabbing a file sitting on his desk and opening it, effectively dismissing them.

Valandur gave the Mortal a knowing smile as he gestured for Alex to precede him out of the office. They remained silent the entire time they were leaving and it was only when they were in Alex’s car and he was pulling out onto the street that he finally spoke. “Okay, just what the hell was that about? I thought we were supposed to handle Farrell.”

“And we shall,” Valandur replied soothingly.

“But you just promised Michaelson that we wouldn’t interfere with the investigation.”

“Nor shall we,” Valandur assured him. “The police may investigate all they want but I doubt they will be successful in finding Farrell. Farrell will find us, instead, or rather you, and when he does, then we will strike and end this game once and for all.”

Valandur’s expression became implacable and the absolute sincerity of his words sent shivers down Alex’s spine. Before it became too uncomfortable, Valandur’s cold expression morphed into a sunny one and his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“So tell me about Felicity. She teaches German, does she? How intriguing.”

****

Words are French:

Réveille-toi!: ‘Wake up!’ (familiar form).

Il est malade?: ‘He is sick?’

Non, mon enfant, il n’est pas malade. Il est profondément endormi: ‘No, my child, he is not sick. He is deeply asleep’.