The Angel of Earth

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Four

Michael Schmierer came fully alert at spotting some unusual movement, in the decorative shrubbery under one window of the wing of the mansion which contained the exhibit. He and the security company had tried to get the family to cut all plants taller than the mowed grass which were anywhere near the building, but this had been refused very firmly. As had the suggestion that the family install floodlights under the house's eves. Apparently, they considered their particular aesthetics more important than security.

Mike went to the large-lensed night glasses which were clamped to the mostly-lowered driver's window. These magnified the image but helped only a little with the brightness. Fortunately, the night was relatively clear and a half-full Moon shone on the scene. Mike absently cursed the restrictions which allowed light amplifying electronic devices for military use but banned them as "mad science" for civilians.

Just as he was about to decide that the disturbance had been in his imagination, the bushes moved again. A pair of black-clad hands then reached up to the window. They turned out to be connected to black-clad arms. Mike remembered that each of the large, swing-out windows had two magnetic alarms; one each at the top and bottom. Additionally, there were vibration detection alarms on each window, plus microphones inside connected to an alarm box, which would react to the sound of breaking glass.

Methodically, unhurriedly, the hands disarmed the magnetic switch at the bottom. The black-clad arms turned out to be attached to a completely black-clad figure, which stood and reached up to disarm the top switch. At this distance all Mike could tell was that the person was lean but athletic. The latches were jimmied, and the window opened, just wide enough for the figure to reach through and deftly disarm the vibration sensor. They then pushed the window further open and slipped easily inside. The only sign of their passage was the open window. Presumably left that way in case the burglar needed to make a quick exit.

Mike was already taking photos, bracing the camera against the upper edge of the tempered glass. He went back and forth between that and looking through the binoculars. The lens on the camera was also large and fast, and the camera was loaded with a very sensitive monochrome film, but he couldn't see the action clearly in the viewfinder. However, he could see enough to aim where he saw something with the binoculars.

Once the figure went inside Mike took a break from the photography to call the sheriff's office on his car phone.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Mike, once he was talking to his contact. "Saw them through my night glasses. Slim figure, all in black. Foxed the alarms and jimmied the locks, rather expertly."

"That sounds like our phantom," said the deputy on the other end, reluctantly. "We have a radio car near there. We'll tell them to approach your location Code 1. You keep watch."

"Roger," said Mike.

The strange figure still had not reappeared when the patrol car pulled in behind Mike's vehicle, no siren or emergency lights, even their headlights off. It stopped and the driver got out and walked up to Mike's window.

"Any update?"

"I saw the suspect go in," said Mike. "Since then, nothing. Except for that window they left open."

"You keep watch. We'll look around the perimeter - quietly - and see if we can find their car."

At least this officer seemed to be taking matters more seriously than his boss.

"Careful. This guy's hurt several people and killed two."

The deputy smirked at that, and patted his holstered autoloader. He was a big man, a force veteran of many years, and understandably confident. The other deputy who got out of the car and joined him in a brief, quiet conference was a bit younger and a bit smaller, but equally confident. Mike just hoped they weren't overconfident.

Mike returned to his watch as the two men began circling the mansion. The pair had a good methodology. They kept to the roads around the property, staying outside the largely decorative fences, actually walking on the far side of the pavement with respect to the mansion, where they were difficult to see against the dark undergrowth beyond. They were going in opposite directions. Mike hoped they didn't shoot each other when they met on the far side.

They definitely had a good plan: Find where the perp would be heading after his B&E, catch him by surprise as he left the property and capture him. Then take the credit, of course. Mike didn't mind. This guy - or gal - was dangerous. If the situation got bad enough to require shooting, better the deputies than him.

Except the deputies weren't all that quiet. By closing his eyes and focusing, Mike could hear both of them. He didn't do that for very long at a time, though. Too much chance of missing seeing the exit of the perp.

Okay, did the intruder park on the same side as where they entered, for a shorter and quicker in and out? thought Mike. Or somewhere their vehicle could be more concealed, even if that meant a longer path?

One of the county cops soon walked past the place where the vehicle would have been parked for the shortest route. Not long after that, Mike could tell they were just about to meet on the far end of the mansion. Neither had stopped for very long. Either the vehicle was well hidden, or...

Mike came suddenly alert. The suspect had never taken anything bulky or heavy. He had only been seen near the target structure, almost always when leaving. He had always gotten away. How was unclear. Several people had reported following him out of a building or even around a corner inside, only to find him gone.

"He has powers," said Mike, quietly.

This was not a great surprise. In fact, that was already suspected. This realization, though, confirmed that suspicion, and perhaps gave an indication of which powers the person might possess. At least to Mike.

He knew that most people who had super speed could use it generally. That is, they were fast even at things like reading or fighting. Some people, though, could only use super speed to get from one place to another. Like Malak's fast travel mode. If this guy had super speed - even just for traveling - he wouldn't need a vehicle.

Mike mentally ran through several possible actions he could take. In the end, he remained where he was and kept watch.

Soon after his epiphany, Mike spotted the intruder exiting. He was, indeed, completely garbed in black and seemed to be empty-handed. He took a moment to look around after closing and realarming the window. Mike got several photos, but didn't have much hope any would come out. His camera, set to automatically bracket exposures, whirred and clicked, three times for each push of the button. However, even the shortest exposure was over a tenth of a second. Enough time for the suspect's movements - even though they were slow and cautious as the figure worked - to cause blurring.

Mike's photo opportunity ended when the figure ducked back into the shrubbery. Which was fine; he was nearly at the end of the roll. There was a short pause; then Mike saw a dark-clad figure shoot across the manicured lawn toward the closest road at incredible speed. Once on the pavement the blur made what appeared to be an instantaneous right-angle turn and sped off into the night.

* * *

"So then this phantom just... zoomed away," said the sheriff, looking dubious.

"Here's what the photo lab got from the pictures I took," said Michael Schmierer, handing him a set of large prints. "These are the best of those which actually came out. There were more good ones than I was expecting."

He handed another set of 8 X 10 glossies to the representative of the security company. Which had insisted there was "No penetration of the property." until the next morning, when the servants entered and found the exhibits "disturbed" then called the company.

"So, these, combined with the physical evidence and my testimony as to what I saw, give us a lot of new information about the modus operandi of the perpetrator," said Mike. "That includes confirming that the person is either a slim male or a woman who isn't showing much bust. Most likely the former. I even have a good range for height and weight. As well as that they definitely have powers. All in my written report."

That information was easily accepted by the Sheriff. The powers part meant he didn't have to work so hard to excuse his deputies for not noticing anything.

"Well, that's more than the FBI has," said the Sheriff, nodding. "Congratulations. We'll see that you get the credit when we spread this around."

"I'd rather you didn't," said Mike, with a rueful expression. "Not yet, anyway. I'm still after this person. I don't want them after me."

"Understood."

"Well, we aren't happy with your performance," said the representative from the insurance company. He rose and tossed his set of prints dismissively onto the Sheriff's desk. "For all we know you staged this whole thing!"

He stormed out, to confused looks from the other two men.

"I wonder if they're trying to get out of paying you," said the Sheriff, weakly.

"The family is paying me," said Mike, with a shrug. "Maybe he doesn't know that."

"Well, whatever his reason, thank you for the info," said the sheriff.

The PI sighed, and gathered his coat.

"Anyway, I'm gonna keep watch at the mansion for another couple of nights. Evidence from previous crimes is that the thief sometimes scouts through large collections - which this is - a time or two before deciding whether to take anything. He might be back."

"Just give us another call if anything happens," said the Sheriff. "We've been working on a plan to quickly put a net across every road out of that area if he's spotted there again."

"Might work," said Mike, nodding as he thought things through. "Just be sure there's a lot of give to the nets. You don't want to slice and dice this guy."

"If it's the same guy who has hurt and killed people in other locations, that wouldn't be a big loss. Don't worry, though, we'll use something elastic. They're less likely to just bust through it that way, anyhow."

* * *

Sometimes, people in certain types of work just need to talk as part of their jobs. Carl Gadding - Editor in Chief at the New York Glory - knew that very well. That was one reason he was lenient on how much time his employees took for break. Just now, though, the people having the discussion were in his office, and were there at his invitation. The current topic had wandered far from what he had called the meeting to discus, but some of the paper's best articles came from such brainstorming, so Gadding was also tolerant of the drift.

"There have been many empowered who have worked for the common good," said Melody, pointedly. "Some are still at it. Some, though, helped the world be a better place, then found a reason to stop. Usually due to burnout. They just didn't pace themselves. Some of those who quit eventually died, of various things, some stayed retired, some have returned to the fray. Some have even gone through several cycles of help for a while, rest for a while.

"Even Malak semi-retired as the Great Depression eased. Though he still spent much of his time helping those in need."

"Right now, though, partly in response to pressure for various governments, institutions and powerful individuals," said Sam, "there are few empowered who openly help people in trouble unless they - and I mean the empowered - have some sort of official support."

"It runs in cycles, as Melody noted," said Gadding, nodding. He decided they'd done enough brainstorming for now. "Anyway, I'm letting you folks know I have Redmund working on a story about those empowered who are currently fulfilling the role of public hero. Including the few actually in law enforcement. So we can have a comparison with The Protectorate."

"Ah," said Melody, expression thoughtful. "Yeah, he'll do a good job, and knowing that will help me focus on my stuff."

"When have you ever focused on anything?" said Sam, grinning.

"Anyway, I'm now up-to-date on what you folks are doing, and you're also up-to-date. So, get back to work."

* * *

As he half expected, two nights later Michael Schmierer again saw the dark-clad figure at that same window.

The Gaspard family was already talking about hiring a different security company. The agency with the current contract had made reassuring noises, and sent a team to check all existing measures and make sure they were working correctly. As far as Mike could tell, though, they had not installed anything new. By now, even William Gaspard was taking the matter of the mysterious intruder seriously. Why, his personal collection of irreplaceable evidence was in danger! Except for his odd hobby and a bit of upper-class snobbery, he seemed to be a rational person, and was not blaming anyone but the intruder for the invasion of his property two nights before. However, as the news spread of these odd thefts some members of extremist groups were blaming the US government, or even aliens.

One thing Mike and the security company were in agreement about was that Gaspard's plan to have armed guards standing ready over the display cases, filing cabinets and so forth was not the best course of action.

Unfortunately, that was the only thing they agreed on. In fact, both the local representative of the company - the man Mike had met at the sheriff's office - and his boss were trying to get Mike off the job. So far the Gaspards - father, mother and son - were agreed on giving the company another chance, but they were definitely on notice. Mike knew that he was also getting the eye. He had better be able to show more and better results than some blurry photos or he was also likely to be looking for another job, soon.

Therefore, Mike was again parked in the same spot. There had been no action the night before, and Mike figured that if the perp didn't return tonight he had moved on. Which meant Mike probably would, too.

One thing in his favor; the Phantom Zoom - as the intruder had been labeled by the local sheriff and the security company - might not know he'd been spotted two nights earlier. So far the information had only spread among local law enforcement, the insurance people and Gaspard's contacts among the UFO community. Therefore, if Mike played his cards right he should - should - be able to catch the guy by surprise.

Of course, if the intruder had his own contacts among the UFO community he probably did know the detective and the sheriff's office were after him. Even then he might decide to come back, for one reason or another. Including simply making a show of defiance. So, Mike kept watch.

When the costumed figure did, indeed, show, Mike quickly called the sheriff's office on his car phone. Then he moved to put his own plan into action.

The black-clad figure was using the same window. Which presumably meant he had approached by the same path, just too quickly to be seen. Mike got out of his car and walked quietly to the road on that side of the mansion. He stopped at the spot on the road where the figure had exited from the property before. There was an opening there in the decorative fence, something normally used only by landscapers. The PI scattered caltrops on the road where he expected - hoped - the Phantom Zoom would exit. Then he hid in the bushes on the far side of the road from the mansion. He just hoped there was no poison ivy or oak. The darkness in the bushes was too deep for him to see well.

Good thing I'm the patient type, Mike thought, as time passed.

Eventually, the dark figure exited, put the alarms back into service, and ducked into the shrubbery. Mike wasn't sure, but thought they might be carrying something.

As they had previously, the figure darted across the lawn to the road, impossibly fast. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to even notice the caltrops as they made the sharp turn to head along the road. Worse, the intruder kicked up several of the spiked tetrahedrons. Worst of all, some of them struck Mike.

The PI did a lot of swearing, at full volume, as he plucked the caltrops from his chest. They had all hit hard enough to not only draw blood, but to leave bruises. Fortunately, the spike portions were not very long. Also fortunately, the few which hit him all struck his chest. Not his face.

Mike quickly finished and moved back out on the road. He could hear similar swearing from not far away. He couldn't help but smirk a bit. It seemed the net set up by the sheriff's men hadn't worked any better.

Lights came on at the location of the trap, and Mike decided it was safe to head over and see what had happened.

"Hello!" he called out, as he approached. "It's Michael Schmierer! Any luck?"

"Yeah," came a gruff response. "All bad."

The Phantom Zoom had left a person-shaped hole in the net.

"Wow," said Mike.

Some of the deputies were scanning the area with their issue flashlights. Mike was about to get his own - better - light out, when another deputy started his patrol car and turned the headlights on. The Sheriff had taken Mike's advice; the net was made of nylon, which was very elastic. Only, it hadn't stretched much. The Phantom Zoom hadn't given it a chance to.

"No sense trying to chase 'im down at this late date," said the deputy in the car. "I radioed ahead, though. Maybe one of the other cars will have better luck."

"Hey, are you bleeding?!" said the deputy closest to Mike, shining his light on the investigator.

"Yeah," said Mike. "It's not serious. Basically, I got caught in the spray when our thief hit the road and hit the gas."

He made a mental note to go back and clean up the caltrops before the deputies could head that way.

"Well, this was a bust," sighed Mike. "He was carrying something, so he probably got what he wanted and won't be back. I didn't even get pictures, this time."