Peter read the note and stared blankly at the map. It had been a long time since he played chess. He wasn't even sure he could remember any of the moves, let alone the intricate layout of the board.

"Grandfather, have you played chess? I can't remember what PK4 stands for. It's been too long."

Matthew spread the map out on the workbench so that it laid flat. He went to the shelf and picked up a box that he recognized all too well, though Peter stared at him in surprise. His grandfather should not have even known what to look for, much less where to find the item in an apartment he had never been in before.

"The box holds some of your father's chi," Matthew said, answering Peter's unvoiced question.

Matthew opened the box to reveal a set of chessmen. He placed each one on the map, now a makeshift board.

"This person believes that he or she is playing on the side of light," he said, holding up the white pawn and placing the appropriate piece from the note in the square indicated. "The move is pawn to king four. The pawn in front of the king advances to this square here," Matthew instructed pointing to the second square ahead of where the pawn had been. "Where is this place?" Matthew indicated to the map.

Peter lifted up the piece and identified the particular landmark visible in the square. The name sent a chill down his back. It was the city morgue.

****

Nicky Elders wiped the sleep from his eyes as he grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. He knew it wasn't going to help him much. He couldn't believe he had finally landed a date with someone who didn't mind that he was a coroner. Last night had been one of the best nights he had in weeks. He really didn't care if it had ended way after midnight, two in the morning, whenever. It was worth it. He couldn't wait until he saw her again. Nicky gave a sigh of pure bliss, his thoughts still on those incredible eyes. He then looked at his desk to see a small stack of folders that had not been there the day before. 'Oh, well," he thought. 'Duty calls, as usual.' He had just sat down to look over the day's cases when he saw a familiar figure coming into his office. As usual, Peter Caine raced in without saying hello and got quickly to the point.

"Nicky, has a body come in here recently, maybe only a few hours ago?" Peter asked breathlessly. He had rushed over here as quickly as he could, his grandfather in tow.

"Hello to you too, Peter. I see you brought company with you." Nicky glanced at the figure that followed on the heals of the young Shaolin.

"This is my grandfather, Matthew Caine,"

Nicky continued as if he had not heard him. "Pete, you won't believe what happened to me last night. I met this wonderful woman. We actually went out on a date. She had these deep green eyes, and wonderful smile, and she didn't even mind me being a coroner. In fact she found it fascinating . . ."

Matthew bowed to the coroner. The action caught Nicky's attention and, for a brief moment, he was shocked into silence by the appearance of the man who stood just behind and to the left of the young Shaolin. He looked so familiar; it was uncanny. Nicky shook himself and refocused his thoughts on Peter as the latter began speaking to him again.

"Nicky, my father is missing. Some unwelcome visitors came by and left me a clue telling me to come here. Could you check to see if any bodies were admitted recently."

"Sure Peter." Nicky became more serious as he saw the look of fear in Peter's face. He looked over his roster. Three bodies had been brought into the morgue last night. Two were female and one was male. Their effects had been logged and placed in three separate boxes. Nicky led them to the cold room where the bodies were stored for processing and stood in front of the locker where the male body was being kept. He dreaded opening it up, fearing that it would be the body of his friend's father. He gathered his resolve, opened the door, and pulled out the slab.

Nicky took a deep breath and pulled back the sheet that covered the body.

"Oh my God!" Peter gasped.

End of Part 3: To be continued . . .


Alisa Joaquin & Linda Schwartz Copyright@2000.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.