Swing Low, Sweet Chariot
Summary: "Hattori-kun? Conan-kun? ...and a murder. Of course. I should have known. Why do you two leave your houses?" "It's not our faults!" "I'm sure the murdered singer will be pleased to know that." In which Heiji and Shinichi must solve a murder and clear the name of a visiting phantom thief.
Pairings: Hints of Heiji/Kazuha, Shinichi/Ran, and some others.
A/N: I own nothing except Anna Wong, Anika Roth, Lady A, Samuel Lewis, Sara Hamilton and Jose Lopez. Bolded words are English. Name comes from the famous choir/rugby song. Also, I write/call Kudo Shinichi/Edogawa Conan Shinichi in this fic - and most likely all of my other fics in the series - but he's still mini. Until I make Ai give him the antidote, anyways. Thanks for warning me, crimsonskyr!
EDIT:(15/02/2013) Fixed grammar errors, comma overuse, and other things. Thank you, mountainelements!
They found Jose a short while after Anika and Anna left them. Or rather, Jose, a slightly short man who was slightly thick and bulky, wandered towards them and began to rant quietly to himself, not caring if a few Japanese kids got the impression that he was insane.
"Stupid woman, thinking she's such a," he paused here to drain his cup of amber liquid. He slammed the crystal cup down on the table, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Such a-" and then he began to speak Spanish instead, but judging from his fierce expression and heated voice, he wasn't complimenting the woman.
"Left handed, though he's pretty flexible with his right. He's the bass of tonight's performance, and I recognize him to be Jose Lopez of the ICCP. He was also one of the original members of 'Songs from the Heart'," Shinichi muttered. "He's having some tough times, but he's freshened up enough to come for the gala. It means a lot to him, obviously. He's also trying to look taller than he really is."
Shinichi waited, but Heiji didn't add anything to that. When he finally looked back to see what was keeping the dark-skinned boy from adding on his own deductions, he made a face that was perfectly at home with his childish looks.
"Hattori, stop glaring at the man," he sighed. "It's not like he's even touching Kazuha-chan."
"He's annoyin' my follower," Heiji growled, tugging on his cap. "He's irritatin' me."
And then he stormed over to them. Shinichi sighed, and went after him, his 'Conan' mask slipping on into place.
Bickering, a few rounds of insulting with rather limited vocabulary and some kind of calm-down period later, the annoying man who had been hitting on Kazuha was identified as one of Anika's fellow Songs from the Heart singers, one Mr. Samuel Lewis, tenor, who went by Sam to his friends and 'the lovely ladies, though they could call him whatever they wanted'. That had been a direct quote.
He was also one of the night's performers – a main one - which meant that unless they wanted to ruin the night for everyone, Heiji couldn't do something drastic to ensure he never came within twenty feet of Kazuha.
Shinichi began to find that fact rather regrettable when the tenor blonde began to hit on Ran.
Still, there were some things interesting about Lewis-san. For example, he spoke excellent Japanese, and was in black formal wear with a charcoal grey shirt. Lewis was also clearly fit, his muscles showing even through the dress shirt, and there was definitely something suspicious in the way he was acting.
The flirting with high school girls, maybe?
Shinichi got rid of that thought, and added him to the list of possible B.O members. As a detective, personal feelings should not have gotten in the way, but he was really, really annoying him.
Almost as annoying as the newest guest. "Ran!"
"Sonoko!"
He got out of there as fast as he could.
"So, Anna, what does it feel like to be back at home?"
Shinichi paused outside the door of the dressing room. He knew it was terribly rude of him to eavesdrop, but hey, he was in the body of a seven-year old. If anyone ever caught him, he'd feign ignorance.
Just to be safe, though, he put his glasses on the ground and got on his knees. The excuse would be that he had dropped his glasses and was trying to find them in the darkness while they were camouflaged against the black carpet.
"I'm Canadian," Anna's voice was cold, but it was calm and under control. Rather like the ocean up in the Arctic, he thought. "And of Chinese descent. This is Japan. Even you should have been able to figure that out, Sara."
"Anna," a third voice sighed, wary and tired as if she'd been through all this before. He peeked in through the crack of the door, and recognized the fiery red of Anika Roth's hair. "Please. Don't."
"No, no, let her let it all out," Sara hummed. "I'm sure she's stressed enough. Too much work, not enough fun, and to top it all off, she probably hasn't seen her idol for a long time now."
"Unlike you," now, Anna's voice was frigid. "I don't consider singing as 'work'. Nor do I consider having a new boyfriend every week 'fun'."
"Oh, that's right," Shinichi could practically hear the sneer in her voice. "I forgot; you don't swing that way. Sorry for forgetting your crush on the thief woman."
"Sara!"
"Wow, implying that I'm not only gay, but have a crush on Lady A. How original of you. It's not like you've told me that five times already."
"Anna, please."
"Anika, shut up. I don't care what you say about getting down and dirty, this woman is seriously stepping too far."
"At least I've got talent. What have you got? Some pathetic fame all thanks to a thief who has absolutely no style."
"Stop it!" there was the sound of glass breaking, and a hiss of pain.
"Anika!" Anna's voice was chiding. "Be careful!"
"Yes," Sara's voice was bored now. "Heaven forbid the little heiress get hurt because she accidently smashed a wineglass in her grip."
"Alright, you know what? You've been this haughty, stuck-up diva drama queen since you've-"
Footsteps, slow and heavy, were coming from behind. Shinichi waited, and then reached out, picking up his glasses with a joyful cry.
"Excuse me," the man behind him rumbled in heavily accented Japanese before knocking on the door. "Miss Roth?"
Anika darted up to the door and opened it. Shinichi snuck a look in and recognized a stormy-faced Anna and a bored blonde who sat sipping something that looked like orange juice from a champagne flute. She was, he noticed, wearing a black dress.
When was Haibara going to be here?
"Yes?" she asked, not having noticed him yet.
"Mr. Yusaku Kudo won't be able to make it. He says," the man's lips twitched in amusement. "He called over the phone, and he says that he was ambushed at the airport by a mad horde of editors."
Shinichi couldn't help the wave of disappointment going through his body. It must have been a pretty large amount of editors.
Wait. But how did they find out about his dad returning to Japan? Kudo Yusaku was one of the distinguished guests, but he was a 'secret guest', because he had requested his name be kept off the public list for the gala. He had found out when his mother had told him, but he doubted his mom would have told that many editors, no matter what his dad did wrong this time.
"Conan-kun?" Anika had noticed him, and was looking down at him. Her green eyes were rather bright. Unshed tears. Huh, so she was either easily affected by watching arguments, or she had excellent alligator tears. "What are you doing here?"
He gave her the cute expression, which melted her heart and got rid of her tears, and then told her in a really lengthened and childish way just how he had dropped his glasses and he had picked them up when the man had come to talk to 'Anika-neesan', and he wanted to say hi but he had to wait till they were done or it would have been really, really rude, or so Ran-neesan said.
Anika glomped him. "You're too cute!" she squealed. Actually squealed. Full volume, right next to his ear.
He wasn't going to have perfect pitch in that ear for a long time.
"Who's he?" the blonde had also wandered over, and her expression was one of scorn. For him or Anika? Her Japanese was pretty good. Even more suspicious.
The redhead began her speech on just how this adorable child was the fearless mini-detective (he winced at the title; Kid got Moonlit Magician, the Heisei Lupin, the Last Wizard of the Century, and he got the mini-detective. Life was unfair when you were seven) who always managed to foil Kaitou Kid when the blonde scowled.
"Yeah, I remember him now," she turned that look on him, and he nearly cowered behind Anika. "Brat, just stay home. Leave the hot hunk in white alone."
She drained her drink and shoved the empty champagne flute into the man's hands. "Put that away," she ordered, before re-entering the room again.
"Come on, Conan-kun," Anika took his hand. "Let's go back to the main event. It's not good to hang around backstage too much."
Before they turned the corner, he noticed Anna leaving the room with a dark expression on her face. She went the opposite way, most likely to the bathroom.
Sara didn't come out.
"Hey, Anika-neesan?"
"Yes?" the redhead looked down, face considerably brighter.
"Is Sara-san a fan of Kaitou Kid?"
Anika grinned. "She is. She actually came over to Japan when he first reappeared. I didn't know her then, but from what I hear, she began to learn Japanese when she was young just so that she could come to Japan and talk to him."
Interesting reason. "So she doesn't like Lady A?"
It was a sore point, apparently, because Anika stiffened a bit before she gave a forced smile. "No, she doesn't like Lady A," she admitted. "Lady A stole from the Hamilton family – that's Sara's last name, by the way – when she was in the United States, and her father didn't pay the ransom so they never got their jewelry back."
In his opinion that was a stupid thing to do. Why not pay the ransom? Lady A was known for being honorable, and for always returning her heists in perfect condition as long as they paid.
Maybe he just didn't want to bend to the wills of a criminal. That, he could understand.
"Gossiping again, Anika?" Lewis was there, leaning over and hugging the redhead. Shinichi mentally scowled at having been pushed aside by the blond man, and was toying with the idea of shooting a soccer ball to his face. "But you're talking about Hamilton, so I'll let it go this time."
"Sam," Anika sighed and flicked his nose, much to Shinichi's satisfaction. "Be nice? Please? For me? For Lady A?"
"What does the Lady have to do with this?" Lewis muttered, but he released her from the hug. "She'd probably thank me for shooting the bitch-"
"Language!" Anika looked scandalized as she reached over, just a bit too late, to cover 'Conan's' ears. "There are children present!"
. . . he hated being stuck in a seven-year old's body. He really did.
"Sorry, kiddo," Samuel Lewis grinned down at him, something he didn't return. "But seriously, why'd you invite her? She's been telling off Jose's singing, and I've been his buddy for a long time, and I've never seen him that angry. Ever."
Anika blinked. "I didn't invite her to the gala," she murmured, brushing her hair back. "Someone else requested her to sing tonight, and her name was on the guest list, so I just called her and asked. Maybe someone sent her a ticket?"
"Great," Lewis threw his hands in the air. "So there's the demon from hell – who I have to share a stage with, mind – and then there's a fan of hers here. Fantastic. Wonderful. My life is all unicorns and rainbows. I feel so happy and high, like I'm on marijuana."
Anika patted his back, and took Shinichi's hand again. "You only have to suffer two more hours, and then you can run to the bar. And how do you know what marijuana's like?" she added, suspicion etched on her face.
Lewis shook his head, wisely avoiding the second question. "She's been downing cocktails like crazy," he told her. "The bartender's saying that he hasn't made that many Mimosas in a year."
"Then you'll just have to be sober," Anika teased before leading him away. "Sara can be mean, but she's a fantastic singer. Do you like music, Conan-kun?"
Time to be a child again. Shinichi mentally braced himself for major huggling, squealing, and cheek pinching as he slipped his Conan mask on. "Uh-huh! It's really pretty, like art for your ears! Will you sing, Anika-neesan?"
"Nope," she shook her head as she snagged something from the table. "Want one? These are BeaverTails. Oh, don't worry, they're not actually tails from beavers. They're these fried dough pastries, and they're really good. There's apple and cinnamon, chocolate hazelnut, brown sugar. . . ."
He took one to be polite. "How come neechan won't sing?"
She gave a rueful smile before biting into her fried dough. "I'm not a very good singer," she admitted. "Not good enough, compared to tonight's performers."
"I'm sure neesan is very good," he told her, and bit into his beavertail. It was actually pretty good, even if the chocolate spread on the top got onto his chin.
Anika burst into another round of just how cute he was, and took a napkin before giving his face a good scrub to wipe off the chocolate. "I'm going to go yell at the performers now, so you have fun, alright?"
"Okay," he agreed, and finished off his fried dough. Interesting how a member of a singing group wouldn't sing. Maybe she really wasn't as talented as the others, but if the rumours were true. . . .
Why not sing like Lady A had requested years ago, back when they were all young? Why not be so completely devoted to Lady A like some of the other hardcore fans of hers if she had already named a chain of clubs after her? Unusual behaviour.
Anika Roth, friendly and bright as she was, was acting quite suspiciously.
Miyano Shiho, formerly eighteen and codenamed 'Sherry' in what Kudo Shinichi had fittingly dubbed the Black Organization, was tense.
Oh, never mind the fact that at the moment, she was Haibara Ai, a young girl of seven who had nothing to do with the dark organization, clutching the skirt of an older girl who resembled her dead sister.
They were here.
She could feel Them. It was something she'd always been able to do, a survival sense of a sort. At the moment, the presence felt like two. Not too highly ranked, but enough, she thought, to be a member with an alcoholic codename.
Professor Agasa had been pulled away the minute they had gotten here, to talk to a bunch of people who were apparently interested in his mad inventions – why, she had no idea, but the rich people were weird – and she couldn't very well fake something to get out of there, because that could draw unwanted attention.
Where was Kudo?!
"Hey, neechan, is that th' little girl from th' professor's?" two hands encircled her waist, and she found herself lifted up into the air and facing the grinning detective from the West.
She began to plot her revenge against him immediately.
"How've ya been, kid?" he put her down – so he had some sense of self-preservation after all – and bent down. "What's wrong?"
She glanced to check if anyone could hear them. Ran and her friends were moving away from them. Good.
"I can feel Them. Here," she whispered. It was odd how she wasn't as scared. Was she too used to it? Did she just have confidence in Kudo's promise to protect her? Or was it because no one could recognize Miyano Shiho in Haibara Ai, not unless they had knowledge of APTX's side effects?
"Who?" he asked, shifting so that she would be out of sight, hidden by his body.
"I don't know," she muttered. Damn black being a formal color. At least it wasn't as bad as the time when they were having that stupid memorial thing for the dead director, but. . . .
Everyone looked like an enemy.
She was startled when something shaded her eyes. "Huh?"
It was a baseball hat. "Pretend yer a fan o' mine," he suggested, combing his fingers through his own hair to straighten it out a bit. "And act more like a kid, would ya? Relax. Yer at a party with a famous, good-looking detective-"
Ai went right back to shooting a deadpan look at him. He ignored it. Kudo had said he was dense, but this was just-
"-and yer excited. Great food, pretty dresses, and it's all fun and grown-up," his grin got impossibly wider. "Can ya do that?"
Of course she could. Her survival was on the line here! She settled for giving a curt nod, and pulled the hat's rim lower across her face. If anyone asked, she'd be pretending to be solving a case, just like 'Heiji-niichan' would always do. Turn up the sugary voice and act all cute like Kudo-kun did in front of policemen that weren't used to him.
By the end of this, she had a feeling she would be a severe diabetic.
"Just point them out when ya figure out who they are."
She took a deep breath and began to try and distinguish that 'scent' from all the other people.
