Contractbound

"G, I don"t feel anything different about my body, not even warmth," he said.

He tried to concentrate on his eyes; to activate the power. He controlled his breathing and tried to find the switch that Graham was describing.

"Still nothing. Maybe only you have it, G."

Valentine grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something on it. He put the paper on the table next to his bed. He then closed the curtains and lied down in bed; he went back to sleep.

One hour after Valentine went back to sleep, Graham woke up. His eyes had dark circles around them because he didn"t have enough sleep.

"Val, did you wake up?" he asked. He opened the curtains and noticed the piece of paper on the table. He knew right away it was from Valentine. They had communicated that way many times before when the other was still asleep.

"G, I think the power is only yours. I don"t have it."

Graham sat down and thought about it. He tried to find a logical reason why Valentine didn"t have the power.

"Val, you"re awake, right?"

There was no answer, but he could feel it.

"Now, why don"t you have the power but I do? Are you sure you have tried everything? Knowing you, I"m sure you have."

He went into thinking again.

"I have some idea, but I don"t know if it makes sense. So, I think it"s because the contract is bound to the soul, not the body. Maybe the Deity treated us as different souls, Val."

His eyes glimmered as if he had just got a great idea, "If that"s the case, then, in theory, you should be able to make a contract with another Deity."

He then remembered something, "Speaking of Deities, Val, didn"t Paim tell us we would know the name of the Deity once a contract is made? Nothing like that happened to me."

Ding... dong...

Suddenly there was someone ringing the bell to his detective office.

"A minute please!" he shouted from his bedroom. He washed his face quickly and went to his office without changing. He turned on the light in his dark office room.

He unlocked the front door and opened it to his guest. It was a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties. She was wearing an elegant red blouse and a black skirt with matching high heels. Her face was adorned with makeup. The woman carried a black leather purse in her right hand.

Graham let her in and gave her a seat. He looked lousy in comparison with the woman.

The woman observed him for a while and asked, "Is this Hymes Detective Agency?"

"Yes. I am Graham Hymes, private detective. Just call me Graham like everyone else. Is there anything you need my help with?" he sat down in his own chair opposite the woman; his hands formed a triangle in front of his nose.

"My name is Naomi Bakker. I heard from Mr. Arnaud that you are a capable detective," she observed Graham again from his head to his waist.

"Oh that Ruben." he interrupted.

"Yes." she nodded and took out a photo from her purse. It was of a man in his late thirties, a handsome man with dark hair and a mustache. Next to him was Naomi without makeup. She still looked beautiful even without one.

"This is my husband, Bram Bakker. We"ve been married for sixteen years now, we have two children and a happy life..." she paused, "but lately, my husband changed. He often comes home late, and he is easily irritated. He spends most of his time outside, away from his family."

She went quiet for a while, as if thinking about something. Graham already came up with a guess as to why her husband changed. He had had similar cases in the past.

"Do you suspect that he is seeing another woman?" he asked.

"Yes. That"s why I"m here. I want you to find out who that other woman is. You don"t need to do anything else; just find out who she is. I will handle the rest." her eyes showed anger.

"You"re not going to kill her, are you?" he asked curiously.

"No, of course not. I just want our marriage to go back to normal, no matter the cost." her voice didn"t waver as she said that.

"How can I find your husband?"

"He is a government official, so he works at the city hall from nine to five. He used to go straight home after work, but now I don"t know where he goes. He is a careful man; I once tried to tail him but I think he noticed me and somehow disappeared from my sight. That"s why I need you."

"Alright. The commission fee will depend on the overall difficulty of this mission."

"It"s not a problem, Mr. Detective. I don"t care how much I have to pay as long as my dear husband comes back to us."

"One more thing. Sorry if this may be impolite, but can I check your palm?"

"Why?" she was taken aback, "Are you good at reading palms?"

"Something like that." he smiled.

Naomi gave him her right hand, but he interrupted. "Both hands, please."

He gave him both hands with open palms. Graham observed her hands carefully. She had short fingers and long palms. Her nails were neatly manicured with red nail polish on. Her palms felt smooth to touch, and they were soft.

"Val, her palms showed us a strong character, but she may lack empathy at times. They also showed us restlessness and agitation," he whispered.

"What did you see, Mr. Detective?" asked her after seeing him whispering to himself.

"I will try my best to find the person your husband has been seeing. In the meantime, you should try to relax. Why not go to the cinema or go shopping?"

She seemed to be thinking for a while but didn"t say anything.

"Is there anything else, Mrs. Bakker?"

"No. Nothing," she said quickly. "I"ll take my leave now. You can call this number if you have any updates." she gave him a slip of paper with her landline number on it.

Graham accompanied her to the exit and said goodbye to her. He then closed the door and sat back in his chair.

"Val, it"s time for us to try my new power."

He took a small piece of paper and wrote a statement on it.

"This mission will be dangerous."

He then placed the paper on top of a gla.s.s plate that he had prepared before. He lit the bottom right corner of the paper with a match and watched the paper burn. It burned slowly and before long, the entire paper turned to ash.

"This means the answer is yes. But the paper burned slowly, so the danger should not be life-threatening?" he expressed his thought. "Let"s check again to make sure." He wrote another statement on a different piece of paper.

"This mission is life-threatening."

He repeated the same procedure: lighting the paper from the top right corner. Flame consumed only part of the paper.

"It means the answer is no. So, this mission should not kill me."

He then took yet another piece of paper and wrote something on it.

"Val is better suited for this mission than me."

He repeated the procedure and he was left with a half-burned piece of paper.

"It means the answer is no," he said. Suddenly, he felt a growing headache.

"Ugh, the headache again. It seems that I cannot keep doing this forever. My power is still limited."

He decided to stop using the divination and got ready for the day. He still had a lot of time, so he wanted to have breakfast first.

"Val, let"s try one more thing," he said. He took five candles from a drawer and set them up in a circle. "I only have five candles, not enough to make a formation. But it should be okay, right, Val? My question is a very trivial one." he got up and turned off the light in his office.

Graham lit the candles one by one starting from the north all the way to the west. Once all the candles were lit, the surrounding area went dark and quiet. He kept repeating the questions in his mind.

"Where should I go for breakfast?"

After repeating the question enough times, he stared at the flame intently. Slowly, an image came to be. It was a blurry image of a small diner near his house. Graham recognized it right away. Once he saw the image, he stopped staring at the flame and the surrounding area became normal again. He put out the fire and turned on the light.

"Val, I guess we"ll be having breakfast at Don"s Pancake House today."

Graham got changed. Since it was just for breakfast, he dressed up simply: a maroon sweater with a black t-shirt underneath, a pair of denim pants, and a pair of dark brown loafers. He also brought the pocket knife that he got from the fight, a lighter, and a small notebook and a pen with him. He left his apartment room and locked the door behind him.

In the hallway, he saw his next-door neighbor, a young man in his early twenties. He was standing in front of his apartment room. Graham observed him for a while and saw that there were black circles around his eyes. He must have had a lack of sleep. Graham greeted him.

"Morning, Luuk." Graham nodded in his direction.

He was Luuk van der Meer, a young medical student at Sloten University Department of Medicine.

"Morning, Detective Hymes." he nodded back.

Graham didn"t say anything else because they were not really close. Luuk was the type to keep to himself, so he rarely engaged in small talks with his neighbors. It was even rare to see him outside his room.

He left his apartment building and walked east towards the diner. It was a beautiful but cold morning, with birds chirping and leaves starting to fall. He walked leisurely while enjoying the view. It was only nine-thirty; he had a lot of time.

It didn"t take long for him to reach his destination; a building with the sign "Don"s Pancake House" painted in pink and brown color. There was a picture of six fresh-looking pancakes next to it. Graham entered the diner and he was greeted by a busy atmosphere. There were a lot of people sitting and eating there. He went to sit facing outside, on his favorite seat near the entrance.

"Morning, Graham. What are you having today?" asked someone. She was Mirjam, the waitress at the diner. They were already familiar with each other since Graham had often come here.

"The usual, please. And a cup of hot chocolate with mint." Graham ordered.

Mirjam nodded with a smile and went to the counter and shouted, "Don, the usual for Graham!" she then proceeded to serve other customers.

Not long after, Mirjam came back with his orders. He had bacon pancakes with bananas and peanut b.u.t.ter toppings and a cup of mint hot chocolate. He ate his food quickly, as usual.

While Graham was eating, someone came into the diner, and Graham got a nagging feeling in his heart to look at the person. He raised his head and observed the person who had just come in. He was a handsome man in his late thirties with a mustache. He was wearing a black coat with a suit underneath. On his head was a top hat. Graham recognized the man right away; he was Bram Bakker, his target!

His target came in alone, and he sat close behind Graham and ordered food. It seemed like he was just there for breakfast.

"Val, what"s our target doing here at this hour? Shouldn"t he be at the office?" Graham muttered. He concentrated and switched on his eye power. He finished his food while observing the man from time to time. He tried to be subtle because he remembered Naomi"s warning that Mr. Bakker was very careful.

Once he had finished his food and drink, Graham went to the counter to pay. His totals were only three pennings. He gave the money to Mirjam and quietly asked her, "Do you know the man in the black coat right there? The one with a mustache and a hat?"

"He..." she said but was interrupted by Graham who put one finger over his lips. She understood and lowered her voice. "He has come here only three times, so I don"t know who he is. But every time, he always orders the same food."

"Hmm..." Graham thought. "So he doesn"t normally come here for breakfast. His habits changed, but what changed it?"

As he said that, Mr. Bakker raised his hand to call for the waitress. He then paid for his food and left. Graham saw that and left after some time. He wanted to keep some distance between him and the man, and with his eyes, he should be able to follow him easily.

Mr. Bakker walked rather fast. He walked straight without looking around, seeming confident about his action.

"Val, he seems to have done this many times," he whispered.

They kept walking for another fifteen minutes before finally Mr. Bakker stopped in front of a two-story house and knocked at the door. Graham hid behind a tree and kept observing. The door was pushed open a little, and Mr. Bakker went in. From Graham"s angle, he couldn"t see the person who opened the door for his target.

"We"re currently on Tuinstraat North, Val. That house is number is three. I should write it down." said he as he wrote the address in his notebook.

Graham waited at his hiding spot for a while, looking for any signs of activity from his target. After thirty minutes of waiting, nothing happened, so he decided to ask around to find out whom the house belonged to. He went to the house next to it and rang the bell. A woman wearing a hair roller came out.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked politely and when she saw him, she said, "I don"t think I know you, Mr...?"

"Graham Hymes. I"m a private detective. Just call me Graham." he shook her hand. "I have questions about your neighbor." he pointed at the house next door.

"Oh, what happened? Is she in trouble?" the tone in her voice didn"t show concern, but excitement.

"No, no. Just asking."

"Oh, alright." she sounded disappointed. "I don"t know her, really. She just moved in last month, and she only rarely comes out of the house. At least that"s what I see. I"m a housewife, you know, so I stay at home most of the time."

"A lot of men in this neighborhood have had their eyes on her. I also often see different men coming into her house." she shared.

"Who takes care of her lawn?" he asked while pointing at the well-mown lawn.

"That would be Eric. In fact, he mows a lot of the lawns in this neighborhood. He said he needed the extra money, that boy. He should be at home at this hour. He lives with his grandparents. Their house is number nineteen." she pointed at a house in the distance. Graham nodded and wrote everything in his notebook.

"Thank you very much for your help, Ma"am," he said politely.

Graham left the house and started walking towards the direction that the woman showed him. It didn"t take long for him to reach the destination; a small house with a well-mown lawn and flowers. He rang the bell and an old man came out.

"Yes? What can I help, young man?" the old man stood at the door with the help of a cane.

"I"m looking for Eric. I heard he lives here. I"m a detective. I need his help with something." he said, observing the old man. He looked to be in his sixties, still healthy except for his right leg.

"Jongen! Come here! Someone is looking for you." he shouted to someone inside the house. After a while, a boy, about fourteen came out.

"Who is it, Opa?" he asked the old man who turned out to be his grandpa.

"He is a detective." the old man looked at Graham. "You should come in." he offered.

"No need, Sir. It will be quick." Graham refused.

"Alright then. I"ll be inside if you need me. Now be good and answer his questions, Eric." the old man walked with the help of his cane inside.

Graham looked at the young boy and asked, "Why are you not at school, kid?"

"I can"t go to school on Fridays. Every Friday my grandma needs to have her weekly check-up. Someone needs to accompany her, and you can see my grandpa cannot do it." he said honestly. "Are you here for that?" he asked Graham back.

"No, not just that. Do you know the owner of house number three? The one who just moved in last month? I heard you always mow her lawn." he readied his notebook.

"Oh, that is Mevrouw Cornelia. I don"t know her full name. She is very beautiful and kind. She always gives me extra money for mowing her lawn, more than the other neighbors."

"There we go, Val. We have our target"s name." Graham whispered.

"Yes?" Eric asked Graham, thinking he was talking to him.

"No, nothing. Continue."

"That"s it. I don"t know anything else about her. I think she lives alone. I"m never inside her house."

"Is it true that many different men often visit her?" Graham asked.

"Yes, but Opa said I shouldn"t pay attention to stuff like that." he shrugged.

"That should be all. Thank you for your help, kid. If you need a detective, just call me." he closed his notebook and stuffed it inside his pants pocket.

He then left the house and walked back to Mevrouw Cornelia"s house.

"Val, we already have the woman"s name. That should count as a job well done. It hasn"t even been half a day." he praised himself.

"Next, we just need to report it to our client."