A.N: And here is a new story for you. This time, I tried for a usual case, but with the typical touch of strange that often goes with the Shinichi/Heiji team. I hope you enjoy!
Very loosely set in the 'Scars-Series', but can be read without any knowledge of the former stories.
Scars-Series:
Scars
Guns and Gems
Predicament
A detective went into a bank...
Just to get you up to speed if you haven't read any of the other stories: Shinichi got the antidote, the BO and KID's syndicate are gone, Shinichi and Ran are married, as are Heiji and Kazuha. They graduated from college and are now living in their own homes.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Detective Conan or any of its characters and concepts! They all belong to Gosho Aoyama.
Chapter one
o-oOo-o
Osaka, Saturday, 7:30 pm
The monitor glowed in a deep red, the only light in the small bedroom, giving it an ominous feel. In front of it sat a man. He panted heavily as he stared at the screen with wide eyes. His right hand clenched around the mouse and sweat ran down his neck. Next to his other hand lay a carpet-knife and a paint brush.
He was frightened. Terrified.
Still, he continued to click on the little cross in the upper right corner of the pop-up that was displayed all over his browser window. He couldn't stop.
Just one unfinished sentence was written there.
Black letters on red background.
'Do you like-?'
A child's voice repeated the question over the speakers.
Click.
'Do you like-?'
Click.
He prayed that the creepy voice would stop, hoped the window would just vanish, but it appeared again and again.
The sentence changed.
'Do you like red?'
Click. Click. Click.
Another change.
'Do you like the Red Room?'
Suddenly, a new site opened, also as red as blood.
His left hand reached for the knife without his consent and brought the sharp edge to his throat.
His scream never made it out of his mouth.
o-oOo-o
Tokyo, Sunday, 5:48 pm
The day had been boring for Shinichi.
He sat at his desk in the small office he had rented for his detective agency. He didn't want to meet with his clients at home anymore. That was their refuge to wind down from exhausting hours at work and to relax, and he didn't want any intruders in this sanctuary.
So, he had opted for this two-room office. It wasn't fancy or anything, but it served his purposes just fine. One room to talk with his clients and a private office in the back besides a kitchenette and a tiny bathroom. More than enough for him, and even though his parents had offered to get him a bigger place, he had declined. Seeing that he was more at crime-scenes than in the office anyway, there was no point in paying an exceedingly high rent.
Right now, he was sorting through some files, organizing data and catching up with paper work in general. Really a down side of self-employment and sometimes the reason he regretted not to have joined the police task force. Sure, there was bureaucracy as well, but at least you didn't have to bother with taxes and insurances and so on.
He sighed and stretched, leaning back in his chair. His thoughts wandered for a while. What should he have for dinner tonight? Ran was out of town for an advanced medical training and he was on his own. While he was perfectly capable of preparing a decent meal, he just didn't feel like cooking, especially because he would have to go shopping beforehand. So, take-away it was. Maybe he should hit the new shop down the road that offered curry. Or would ramen be better?
As always when he thought about the various restaurants in the city, his mind drifted to a certain detective in Osaka, who really much enjoyed trying out new food. Well, Heiji's favorite okonomiyaki shop here in Tokyo was an option too. "Not bad for okonomiyaki that's not from Osaka," Heiji had said after finishing his third plate when Shinichi had visited the shop with him last time his friend had visited.
The ringing of his mobile phone postponed any dinner plans for later.
A glance at the caller-ID let Shinichi's eyebrows rise.
"Are you psychic now, Hattori?" he greeted with a grin.
The short pause on the other end was the equivalent to a baffled blinking, before Heiji's thick kansai-dialect sounded over the line.
"Hah? Psychic? What's up with ya, Kudou?"
Shinichi smiled. Heiji hadn't changed much since their first encounter and he hoped his friend would stay that way. It was always refreshing having him around.
He laughed. "Nothing, nothing, just thinking about when you will visit to tour the restaurants with me again."
"Anytime, pal, but I'm afraid that will have ta wait for a bit as ya'll be tha one visitin' me first."
"Is that so?" Shinichi asked musingly. "Sightseeing or case?"
"Ya know that ya can always get both here in Osaka," Heiji boasted, before his voice became earnest again. "It's a case actually, and a pretty weird one at that."
"Aren't they always weird with you?"
"Oi! That's hardly my fault," Heiji defended himself.
"Oh, really?" Shinichi's tone was teasing. "Then how come that I only encounter spider queens, vampires, Kamaitachi and Nue when you are in the vicinity? I think that is pretty telling."
A snort was his answer, but honestly – many of the cases they had worked together had a touch of supernatural, even though they all had turned out to be hundred percent frauds. Admittedly, Shinichi had encountered some of them even without Heiji around, but he wasn't about to remind him of that.
"Anyway, what is this case about, Hattori?"
"Ever heard of tha urban legend 'Tha Red Room'?"
Shinichi thought about it for a moment. "Isn't that the one where some pop-up window brings the victim to commit suicide?"
"That's tha one," Heiji confirmed. "We've got two victims so far, both male, but we have no idea who tha culprit is or what connects tha victims."
"So, you don't think they actually committed suicide out of their own will?"
"Na, don't think so. I mean – two cases where tha victims sliced themselves up ta paint tha walls with their own blood?"
Shinichi gaped. "Say what?"
o-oOo-o
Osaka, Monday, 9:30 am
The next day, Shinichi got off the train at Osaka station and searched the crowd for Heiji. He slung his bag over his shoulder and began to walk to an area where less people were standing when someone bumped into him from behind and then rushed past him.
"Thief! Thief!" a female voice screamed.
Shinichi's fingers flew to his wrist, only to discover that he'd forgotten to put on his tranquilizer-gun-watch. He cursed but didn't hesitate, dropped his bag and took after the fleeing culprit. Thanks to the mass of people, he caught up quickly and tackled the man to the ground, pinning him with his own weight. Before he had the chance to secure him in a police-armlock, the taller man threw him off and pulled his fist back for a hard punch at Shinichi's face.
He braced himself, but the hit never reached him. Instead, he heard a grunt and a thump.
"Only ya, Kudou," a familiar voice said.
Looking up, Shinichi was met with Heiji's flashing signature grin. The thief lay crumpled at his feet, obviously unconscious after he had made the acquaintance of Heiji's wooden kendo sword that the young man currently rested on his shoulder. Apparently, he had come straight from morning practice to pick him up.
Shinichi winced in sympathy. A bokken might be a weapon meant for practice, but a strike with it was painful nonetheless. Especially, when exerted by a pro like Heiji, who now held out a hand to him.
He took the offer and was hoisted to his feet again.
"Ya're here for what? A minute? And already ya stumble over a crime," Heiji laughed good-naturedly.
"Look who's talking," Shinichi grumbled, dusting off his pants, when they were interrupted by the owner of the handbag the thief had snatched.
"Oh, thank you so much!" the woman exclaimed with a deep bow and then looked Shinichi over in concern. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, no, I'm fine, really," he assured her, picked up the handbag that had fallen to the ground during the short struggle and gave it back to her.
"Thank god," she sighed in relief and it was not clear if she meant Shinichi's well-being or the handbag she firmly clutched to her chest. She regained her composure and bowed again.
"I'm so sorry, where are my manners," she apologized and handed a business card to Shinichi, who took it with a bow in turn.
"My name is Arisawa Sanyu, pleased to meet you. It is so good to see that there are people who would help out a stranger."
She looked up again and for a moment, both men were captured by her gentle smile. She really was stunning with her straight, shiny black hair that flowed just over her shoulders and a pair of warm brown eyes. She seemed to be in her mid- or late-twenties, just a bit older than Heiji and Shinichi and had a slender figure, dressed in a flattering green skirt and a black shirt.
Shinichi was the first to shake it off. "Uh, your welcome, I mean – the pleasure is all mine." He slapped himself mentally. 'Get your act together, Kudou. You are married.'
He cleared his throat and gestured at Heiji, who now bowed as well, still a bit out of it. "This is Hattori and my name is Kudou."
She looked at them musingly, as if she tried to remember where she had heard the names before.
"We're det-„
"I'm visiting Osaka and my friend here will show me around a bit," Shinichi cut into Heiji's explanation. "Who would have thought that we would run into a pick-pocket right away?" he laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.
Arisawa laughed with him, while Heiji tried to figure out what was going on, but instead of asking, he waved at the security of the station, so they could take the thief into custody.
"By the way," she reached behind herself and dragged Shinichi's bag into view. "I think this is yours? I was afraid it would get lost in the crowd, so I brought it over."
"Oh, yes, thank you. It would have been bad if I'd lost it."
"Take it as a token of my gratitude," she winked at him. "If I can be of any help, just call me."
After they all had given their statements to the security, they waved Arisawa off, who entered the next train.
"So, care ta enlighten me?" Heiji asked curiously. "Why didn't ya want me ta tell her that we're detectives. And ta only give our last names – just how rude are ya?"
Shinichi gave him Arisawa's business card. "I don't think she would have appreciated it and I didn't want to run after another fugitive to get her statement. And not to boast, but I think giving our full names is just the same as telling her we're detectives."
They had been in the papers often enough that they were known quite well. Maybe she would make the connection later as she seemed to recognize the names.
Heiji's eyes grew wide after reading the neat writing on the card. "A-, an escort?"
"Yeah, and while that in itself is legal, I assume that she also offers some... other services."
"Other serv... Oh,..." Hattori blushed. "Why do ya think that?"
"Well," A bit embarrassed, Shinichi reached into his bag and gave Heiji the small bottle, he had found after she had returned it. "I think her 'gratitude' includes a bit more than just taking care of my luggage."
Hattori read the etiquette and burst out laughing. "Kudou, I am not so sure if Nee-chan will approve of this, but I'll make sure ta ask her."
"Don't you dare!" Shinichi shouted and tried to grab the bottle from Heiji, who playfully danced out of reach.
"Ah, come on, pal! Loosen up! A little aphrodisiac won't hurt ya any."
"Hattori!"
o-oOo-o
The carefree mood vanished as soon as they entered the Osaka Police Department. They were here for a case and hopefully, they could prevent another murder.
Heiji showed Shinichi the way to his office. He had entered the police force after graduating college and had worked his way up pretty fast. Not surprising considering his talent, but he'd had to overcome the obstacle of his parentage. He didn't want to be 'the son of' who just got the job because of his old man. He wanted to be acknowledged for his accomplishments and he had given it his all.
So, he really deserved the nameplate next to the door that read 'Detective Hattori Heiji'. One more year, give or take and he would make Inspector for sure.
He had married Kazuha last year and she had somewhat convinced him that staying with the police was better than opening his own agency.
Not to say that she didn't believe in his abilities as a detective, but she just felt that Heiji needed a stable environment to ground him. He also lacked the discipline for boring office work and Kazuha didn't intend to do it in his stead, as she had chosen to be a teacher at their local pre-school. She really had a knack for small kids.
Heiji gestured for Shinichi to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk that was overflowing with papers and folders. Seemed like Kazuha hadn't been that far off the mark regarding her husband's aversion for paperwork.
He rummaged through the piles until he let out a triumphant snort and pulled out two files. He reached one to Shinichi.
"These are the two victims. Himeragi Toya and Tatsuda Aki," he began to summarize, while Shinichi paged through the reports and pictures.
"Himeragi Toya, 28 years old. Found dead in his apartment a week ago. Was an office clerk in a small IT-company. No criminal record, finished college with average grades, nothin' special about his friends or family either. Well, he didn't have that many friends, but they all agreed that he was a nice, normal guy if maybe a bit asocial."
"Nice, normal, ordinary, quiet…" Shinichi sighed. "How often have we heard this description and the guy in question turned out to be a total nutcase or at least had some heavy issues no one knew about."
Heiji laughed. "Right, would be way easier if they came with a label like 'Caution – mentally instable, do not provoke' or 'Kills ya if ya screw his wife'"
"We would be out of any cases and what would we do then, write tickets for speeding?" Shinichi joked, but sobered quickly. "But seriously, you can never tell how many skeletons one has in his closet just by looking at them."
He flipped a page and frowned. It was a picture of the crime scene. He had seen countless of those by now, but this was – well, disturbing. The victim lay on the ground in a small bedroom, face down in a pool of dark liquid. Cause of death obviously had been a cut throat and he couldn't have lived long after that. Certainly not long enough to splatter the walls with that much blood. Though if it was paint, he could have done it beforehand.
Shinichi looked closer at the red streaks that had darkened to a dull, rusty brown in most places. No, that was blood, alright.
He looked up from the picture. "His own blood?"
"Yeah," Heiji answered uneasily and shifted a bit his chair. "We had it tested ta see if maybe it was from an animal, but it was all his own. A few pages further, ya'll find a picture of a paint-brush and tha carpet-knife we found next ta him."
Shinichi flipped to said page. A blood-crusted paint-brush with broad bristles and an also bloody carpet-knife. No special brand. You could get one of those at any hardware-shop the country.
The next pages contained the medical and toxicological report. Nothing conspicuous.
"So, what makes you think that this wasn't an ordinary, though very bloody murder? And one connected to an urban legend at that"
Heiji rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure that our culprit is nothin' supernatural at all. It's not possible ta die because of a stupid pop-up window, even though they are annoyin' as hell."
He gave Shinichi the second file.
"Tatsuda Aki, 46 years old, office worker. Found dead yesterday morning. Similar ta Himeragi, nothin' outstandin' in his life, except for tha gruesome death. Same wound, same paint-brush and knife, same blood-splattered walls. And what also both crime scenes have in common, is tha absolute lack of forced entry or signs of struggle. As if they willingly invited their murderer in and bared their necks for them - or well, themselves. Not a single hint ta a second person was found in tha rooms, but in both tha computer was running and tha screen showed a red browser-window with nothin' written on it."
Silently, Shinichi ran through the facts he knew about the Red Room legend he had read about on the train to Osaka. He could understand why someone would see a connection, but the legend was a bit different.
For one, the victims of the Red Room were strangled to death, not cut with a knife. Also, there was nothing said about a red monitor still running when the victims were found. The original legend went like this:
A student heard about the Red Room from a friend at school and once at home, he began to search the internet for more information. He didn't find anything, but sometime later, a red window popped up with the question 'Do you like-', written in black.
The student was scared and tried to close the window, but it opened again and again. After some clicks, the sentence changed to 'Do you like red?' and then to 'Do you like the Red Room?'
After that, a new window opened, also red with black writing. It was a list of names and the last one was the name of the friend, who had told him about the legend. He was absolutely terrified and didn't notice two hands, reaching for his neck.
The next day, the whole school spoke about two boys, who committed suicide and painted their walls red with their own blood.
It had some parallels to the current case, but it wasn't the same.
Someone clearly wanted them to think of the Red Room, the question was: Why? If they had the ability to come and go without anyone being the wiser, why leave such a messy scene and the red monitor behind? Everything hinted to a serial killer, who made his modus operandi known. And the press for sure would make a big deal out of these murders as soon as they got wind of them being a series.
Why a killer followed the same pattern for every victim had different reasons. Some thought they had to obey an inner voice that told them how to do it – and to do it at all. Others suffered from compulsive acts they couldn't suppress, like collecting something from every victim or stabbing them a certain number of times and the next just wanted to set a statement of revenge. The latter were the ones who murdered blonde women just because the cute blonde cheerleader back in high-school had dumped them.
Every one of them were dangerous and one never knew what would cause the killer to change his pattern.
There were whole sections in the police, who solemnly worked those cases. Experts.
"Hattori, did your leading Inspector already call in a profiler?"
Heiji crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked grumpy. "Of course, he did."
"Then why am I here?" Shinichi asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'll help you as good as I can and I don't have any other cases at the moment, but I'm hardly a pro in that field."
"I know that," Heiji grumbled. "I just – can't really stand tha guy. Ya have ta be a buffer for us – for tha sake of tha case." He looked at the clock on the wall and made a face. "He should be here any second."
Shinichi was baffled. "I have to – what?"
Before Heiji could respond, there was a knock on the door and a man in a dark brown suit entered.
"Hattori-keiji, Kudou-kun," he greeted politely and strode over to the chair next to Shinichi to sit down.
Shinichi gaped at him a bit dumbstruck. 'Oh…'
"Hakuba, punctual as usual," Heiji said and watched as Hakuba Saguru took a seat in the chair next to Shinichi. He tried to hide his slight annoyance but was sure that he didn't do a very good job with that. No matter how many cases they had worked together (thankfully not that many) he just had a hard time to connect with the man.
After KID's staged death, Hakuba had returned to England to study. When he came back two years ago, he already had been a full-fledged profiler and had joined the team in Osaka that had a vacant post. He was good at what he did, Heiji had to give him that. The affinity for profiling had already shown in his early hunt (obsession) for KID, when he had deduced the thief's identity in no time. He might have lacked the evidence, but he had been right about it nonetheless.
When he had agreed to cover for Kuroba, Heiji had been surprised. It didn't fit the image he'd had about the half-Brit and his opinion of him had changed a bit. He still thought that he was a stick in the mud, and they clashed with each other every now and then because of their different conceptions of how things should be done (effective vs. by the book), but at least he could appreciate the other's skills and his loyalty to his friends.
His superiors had called Hakuba in for the case, despite the knowledge that he would drive Heiji up the walls. Or maybe that's why and they wanted to see how he fared with the situation.
Hakuba would be a great asset for the team, Heiji was aware of that and with Shinichi here to mediate, Heiji's head hopefully would stay clear to solve the case.
He just hoped his friend would agree to help him out.
Seeing Shinichi's expression, he had already grasped the problem at hand and was mildly amused about Heiji's dilemma. As far as Heiji remembered, Shinichi didn't have any problems working with Hakuba, though he wasn't sure if they had met since his return to Japan.
"Hakuba-san, nice to meet you again," Shinichi said with a smile. "I've heard about your latest case – congratulations! Must have been another boost to your outstanding career."
As always absolutely unfazed, Hakuba took the compliment in stride. "Thank you, Kudou-san. I could say the same about you, though I've heard about one or two cases where you've been caught up in trouble." He glanced at Heiji with a mocking glint in his eyes. "I think Hattori-keiji here might be a bad influence for you."
Heiji bristled at so much arrogance, but Shinichi cut in before he could jump at Hakuba's throat.
"Well, Hakuba-san, I think if it hadn't been for the things I've learned from my friends over time, these situations would have ended much worse than they did. So, I'm really thankful to them."
It was the politest 'Can it!' Heiji had ever heard and he had to suppress a satisfied grin. He was sure that Shinichi was on board now, and the aspect of working together with the blond prick seemed a lot brighter.
Hakuba just held Shinichi's calm gaze, obviously realizing that it would be a much better idea to drop the topic. "Indeed," he finally said, turning to Heiji. "As I understood, this case will be important for your evaluation for the post as Inspector, so I think it would be best if we brought results."
Shinichi's eyebrows flew up. That was his first time hearing about that. No wonder that Heiji wanted him here. Any other time, he could have dealt with Hakuba by himself, but here was much more on the line and he couldn't afford that his temper got in the way.
Heiji nodded. "Yeah – I'm workin' this case as Inspector on probation, so you both will be under my direct orders."
'That ought to be interesting,' Shinichi thought.
"Right." Hakuba pulled out two clear plastic bags with a small piece of paper in each and put them on Heiji's desk, giving the piles on it a snide glance.
"I've brought some evidence from the two crime scenes. The second one just got cleared by forensics," he explained, while Heiji reached for the bags and looked at the content without opening them, then gave them to Shinichi.
It were receipts from a hardware-shop for a paint-brush and a carpet-knife. The same hardware-shop to be exact. He checked the dates and compared them with the data in the files.
"They both bought the same items the day of their death in the same shop?" he wondered.
"And the shop is not even close to their homes or working places," Hakuba added.
Shinichi looked up from the files at Heiji, who wore a predatory grin.
"I think we got our first lead."
TBC