Here's the last bit. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and favorited! You guys are the best. :D


L L L L L

It was a shame to resort to his laptop for names. The point of having a brain was to make the laptop obsolete. But right now, his laptop was working better than his brain. How irritating.

L flicked languidly down a list of profiles with the tip of his finger. What time was it? Eleven eleven… his favorite time of day. There it was.

L stopped scrolling leaned the screen closer. Ramon Kurts. He was Callahan's partner. Of course, the Shinkansen Highjacking in Takayama not fourteen months ago! L had personally worked that case.

Everyone in the group was arrested, including Callahan. But Kurts, the mastermind behind it all, had been more careful about covering his tracks and gotten away clean. He'd never resurfaced, presumably because he was cautious and never left a loose end -

- behind.

Is there something you want to tell me?
- Two days before the heist….Sixteen down, twenty-three across.
It is truly good to see you, L… Callahan's partner is still in the country…
had a flu virus - well over twelve days …Three hundred sixty-eight tiles. What's troubling you?
…recorded the entire robbery. Who killed Gomez?
It is more likely that Callahan's partner is still in the country.
I'll be back to check on you in the morning - keeping the tape for black mail.
The battery is dead…something you want to tell me? - had a copy sent to you…

…a copy sent to you...

Someone was outside L's door.

L L L L L

Call Failed.

Watari closed his cell phone tensely.

"No luck?" Gene asked without taking his eyes off the road. The were following closely behind Phelps' Cadillac which contained Phelps and two junior officers, all armed.

"His phone seems to be off," said Watari. "How far is it?"

"The Sanfroise apartment building's about thirty minutes from district C, but by the way the chief's driving, I'm betting we'll cut that in half."

Gene was trying to sound encouraging, but Watari remained uneasy.

It might not be enough.

L L L L L

The alarm button in the hallway. The gun in the bedroom. The phone on the kitchen wall.

From what he knew of Kurts, the alarm was likely disabled, the phone line cut… that left the gun. The gun L had never used. Yes… that one.

But a second later, it hardly mattered. There was a muted bang outside the door; the sound of a perfectly good keypad being blown to pieces. No more time.

L jumped off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen. The circuit breaker was located in the broom closet. The only thing he could do now was buy himself some time, which basically meant hiding.

He flicked all the circuit switches down.

The lights, the humming refrigerator, and everything else snapped off, just as the metallic apartment door slid open.

Footsteps in the hall.

The sound of Kurts' laugh cracked through the silence. "Really, kid? The lights? Trying to fool me into thinking you're not home, I guess. That's pretty hilarious…"

He started walking down the hallway.

L was crouching low behind the bar, feeling around on the countertop. His fingers found the handle of the sterling silver pie-server. That would work.

There was a faint scrape of metal against Corian as he lifted it down. L ran a fingertip across metal triangle's serrated edge. Well, it was better than a spoon, anyway.
Kurts was between him and the bedroom. Until that changed, there was no chance of getting the gun… nor was there a guarantee that he could use it.

L could feel his head spinning again and his stomach somersaulted with every movement. He felt around on the counter some more.

"You know," Kurts' heavy voice called. He'd moved to the living room. "I remember you from Takayama… the bullet train job? Yeah, you were that weirdo-detective who put all my boys in jail." He laughed. "That was pretty good! But see, now… you're in my way. So you might want to quit messing around before -"

Ah, a glass sugar bowl. L pinched the rim and lobbed it over the counter at the opposite wall. It shattered loudly.

Acting on the momentary distraction, he made a dash for the hallway.

But as he came around the corner of the bar, an arm suddenly hurled across his shoulders and slammed him back down. The forearm pressed against his throat and he felt a warm gun barrel jam into his temple.

"Seriously, with the throw-something-at-the-wall-to-distract'em gimmick? You really are a funny kid!" Kurts chuckled next to his ear. "Look, I could just kill you now and take the tape, no skin off my nose. But - I'm low on time, plus your police buddies will have to clean up another body and… wouldn't you rather just give it to me?"

L struggled to keep from blacking out. The constriction on his windpipe did nothing to help his current physical condition.

"Tell you what, you have till "three" to tell me, okay? One…" Kurts shifted the gun under his jaw. "Two …"

Oh, wait. The tiles on the floor were leftover from the kitchen, but the ceiling tiles were bought separately. That's why they were bigger. L drove the pie-server's edge down Kurts' forearm.

The serrated edging cut clean and deep. Kurts howled, more out of rage than pain. But his grip went slack and L twisted free.

He started to stand but the floor swayed and he fell on hands and knees. Well, he could work with that. He crawled toward the entry hall.

Kurts recovered himself quickly and made a grab at L's foot.

L kicked him. Without really trying, he hit the gash on Kurts' arm, producing an unpleasant snarling noise.

It was a fortunate move but the world was still gyrating wildly and everything in him demanded collapse. On adrenaline alone, L stumbled to his feet one last time and lunged for the bedroom doorway.

At the same moment, Kurts shot to his feet, raising the gun. "Idiot."

He fired.

L L L L L

It took both of the junior officers and Phelps to kick down L's sophisticated metal door and the noise nearly drowned out the gun shot.
Light from the outer hall flooded the apartment entryway. The three rushed in, Gene and Watari close behind.

"NYPD!" Phelps bellowed. "Drop your weapon, get down on your knees!"

Kurts spun and fired again, singeing the right-side officer's sleeve.

Phelps leapt over the wrecked door and let off a clean shot through Kurts' shoulder, knocking him against the wall.

He slid down to the floor, painting a red streak on the now cracked plaster. The gun clattered to the floor and the second officer snatched it up.

Watari pushed past Gene into the entry way. There was blood on the floor leading to the bedroom.

"Mr. Watari -" Gene said but didn't stop him.

Watari ran to the bedroom doorway and stopped. L was lying flat on his back, panting and clutching a blood-coated pie-server.

Alive.

Watari sighed and dropped down next to him.

"He's okay!" Gene shouted from behind.

"Ramon Kurts," Phelps growled, clapping the handcuffs on. "You're under arrest for the robbery of Manhattan Depository, the murder of Peter Gomez, and the attempted murder of a civilian."

Kurts just laughed through gritted teeth. "Yeah, sorry about that. I'll get him next time."

"Yeah, well your 'next time' is going come somewhere around twenty years after your dead. Move it." He yanked him upright as the first officer began rattling off Miranda.

Watari helped L sit partway up, one arm around his shoulders. With his other hand, he eased the pie-server away. "L, are you hurt? What happened?

L looked up at him and considered. He was still breathing hard. "Well… I have significantly narrowed down the suspect list."

Watari blinked - then smiled wryly. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I am, yes, thank you. Although, Watari - I have something I want to… "

"What is it?"

He held a hand next to his mouth and whispered. "I believe I may have fallen Ill." Then suddenly, his head lulled against Watari's arm and he passed out.

Watari only smiled and nodded once. "Thank you for telling me."


L L L L L THE END L L L L L


Yonde kurete arigatou!

Mate-ne!