notes/warnings
+ hello
+ warning for swears
+ people are not always what they seem
Sister
"I'm sorry," Naomi tells L, for the third time. "It didn't work out as I had expected."
L steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, listening intently. Setbacks such as this are unavoidable in detective work, but it is important to learn as much as possible from each one, and in doing so minimise the risk of reoccurrence.
"But we gained some information," he muses. "You say that someone calling themselves Fivenine expected myself or my agents to investigate the case. That means that we have a potential suspect."
"If they are the real Fivenine," Naomi says, tugging her coat from her shoulders and hanging it up on the wall, "then they will be impossible to locate. The Big Four are impenetrable. Perhaps we would have a slim chance if we apprehended the laptop thief, but they're most likely to be a hired grunt who doesn't even know their employer's name."
"Hm," L says noncommittally, mentally sifting through the details of the day's events. It's not unusual for Wedy to go about her own business without informing him, of course, but it's unusual for her to do so immediately after a job. "Why did you not seize the laptop?"
"I told you, we were caught," Naomi says, sounding irritable now. "We had to fall back on our fake identities. We were lucky to get away without being arrested."
"And Wedy is…where did you say she was?" L asks, again.
"I've answered this question before," Naomi says, flatly. "You're interrogating me. I don't appreciate it."
Yes, L is interrogating her. This gnawing feeling in his stomach refuses to be silenced, but he has no actual evidence that something is amiss. He is grateful to be with Naomi and Wedy again, and he shouldn't doubt them like this. They are his friends, and his employees, and he needs as many of each as possible.
"I apologise," he says, simply. "Wedy is shopping."
"Yes," Naomi agrees. "Shopping."
"I can't believe," Michelle says brightly, "that it took until the third world for London to have twenty four hour shopping districts."
She is currently sporting a particularly expensive fur coat, and examining herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
"It's amazing," she adds.
"I own five," Wedy tells her, smiling from ear to ear. In all her life, she has never met anyone who loves clothes as much as she does. "In four different shades of grey."
Michelle meets her eyes in the mirror, and then looks away, flushing.
"I'm sorry," she says, meekly. "It's just…no, it's nothing." Unceremoniously, she shrugs off the coat and bundles it into her arms. "I can't possibly afford this, you know."
"Playing it straight doesn't pay well," Wedy says, nodding sagely. "But you don't need to worry about money tonight. What else are big sisters for?"
When she was a little girl, she wanted to be a big sister more than anything. More than she wanted to be rich, more than she wanted to be alive. Michelle grins at her openly. She's not the same as Wedy. She's more innocent, less tainted by the world, and slightly less cynical. The sort of person Wedy finds herself wanting to protect.
"I couldn't possibly," Michelle says. "You've already paid for fifteen bags of clothes and a guy to carry them for us."
She pauses for a moment to wave at Steve. Steve doesn't wave back, of course, but he does offer her a fairly strained smile as he tries not to crumble under the weight of their respective purchases.
"What's a sixteenth time?" Wedy asks, smoothly. "Go ahead. My credit card is virtually limitless."
Michelle makes an affectionate noise and follows Wedy to the clerk's station.
"And what can I do for you in return?" she asks.
Wedy slings an arm around Michelle's shoulders. Rarely is she offered anything so openly and without strings attached. She could ask for debt or interest or companionship or a hundred thousand future shopping trips. She could ask for anything, but there's one thing she wants the most.
"You can talk to me," she answers. "I want to know about your life. I don't know the first thing about you."
"I assure you, my life has not been that interesting," Michelle tells her. "Where would I even start?"
"At the beginning," Wedy replies.
Naomi does not sleep. Instead she stares at the ceiling, listening to Connor's rhythmic breathing, and questioning her recent life choices. Because Naomi really should tell L about Michelle. Because Wedy has been abundantly clear that she doesn't want L to know about Michelle. And because Wedy is a reliable person, a ruthlessly efficient person, a person who does not make stupid decisions. But perhaps now, being presented with her only weakness, she is being compromised.
Or perhaps she's just finally enjoying the one thing she's always wanted and couldn't have. Wedy comes from a broken home. Naomi can understand finally wanting some space to reunite with her family. Hell, there are days when Naomi is lonely, too. There are days when Naomi would give her trigger finger for someone to talk to, a girlfriend to go out to coffee with, something. Working for L full time is isolating and difficult, and nobody should have to sacrifice every aspect of their life into their career.
But Naomi's primary loyalty is to L. And her role as deputy means that she must always make the best possible decisions. So, what is the best decision? Does she tell L - a man who she is having trouble trusting - and therefore lose Wedy's trust forever, or does she keep this secret and hope like hell it will not come back to haunt her?
Naomi closes her eyes.
The worst case scenario, she thinks, is that Michelle is actually using Wedy to get to L.
Surely, even now, Wedy wouldn't allow herself to be used.
Despite their differences, despite their difficult relationship, Wedy is still one of the women who Naomi admires the most. If Michelle did anything strange – if Michelle slipped up even once – then Wedy would undoubtedly know. And faced with a choice between L and her sister, Wedy would surely choose her boss. Surely.
Okay, fine, her brain says, unhelpfully. What if Michelle is after L and she doesn't slip up. What if she's as good as Wedy?
What if Naomi didn't consider everyone an enemy? What if she had never met Light Yagami, or Kiyomi Takada? What if she'd never met Raye Penber? What if she'd never met L? These are the questions she cannot answer. What if she had gone on as an FBI agent in her own right, eschewing the supernatural and catching criminals, saving the world, and sleeping soundly at night?
Naomi rubs the bridge of her nose. She promised herself that she could do this. She could be a mother and a deputy and still be a person in her own right.
So, what should be done?
There isn't any reason to tell L about Michelle. Not yet. When Wedy comes back in the morning, Naomi will talk to her and make further decisions after that. There. A perfectly sensible, reasoned decision.
Everything will be all right.
The next day, Berkshire acts like nothing happened. He drives Teru to the Southwest hospital and drops him off at the gates.
"You've gotta do it," he says, loudly. "If we ignore people like him, then people like her have already won."
Stanton has already been here earlier in the morning. It is a regulation requirement for a police sergeant to visit constables injured in the line of duty, and Teru doesn't think for a minute that Stanton actually cares about Edison. But that isn't his biggest problem right now. His biggest problem is that he's literally terrified of facing his favourite colleague again. Edison got kicked nearly to death because of Teru's shortcomings. The doctors say it will be at least five weeks before he's able to move around without severe pain, at least eight weeks before he can come back to work.
I thought you were the kind of man who wouldn't stand by and watch that sort of thing.
Teru used to be that kind of man, and that kind of man was a monster. But Berkshire won't listen – can't listen – and Teru must deal with this on his own. Reluctantly, he gets out of the car. The only thing he has left to believe in is L and maybe, if he can defeat Mills and Stanton and protect L, that will finally atone for what he has done.
No, it won't. There is no atoning for what he has done.
"And Constable Mikami," Berkshire calls from the driver's seat, and Teru turns on his heel, diverting his full attention back to his only ally and mentor. Berkshire doesn't look angry, in fact he almost seems to be smiling. "Edison looks up to you."
Teru is dumbfounded.
"What?" he manages. He is literal and metaphorical scum. Edison is young and clever and good and has a whole lifetime of potential stretched out in front of him.
"You heard me," Berkshire says, and pulls away from the curb.
Shaking, Teru goes into the hospital. He has to see Edison now, no matter how much it costs.
"Honestly, it wasn't the laboratory work that bothered me," Michelle finishes, "it was the frumpy white coats. In the end, I just gave up pursuing an academic career and joined Platinum Security."
They're sharing a pineapple milkshake and watching the sun rise. Wedy is moderately tired, but she has no intention of going home. Not yet.
"Lab work, security work," Wedy says, waving her hand in the air dismissively. "You were made for something far more glamorous than that."
Michelle smiles and rests her chin on her hand.
"Did you ever meet our mother?" she asks. "I've heard a bit about her, from magazines and things."
"I knew her when I was a child," Wedy admits.
She doesn't do guilt, and she doesn't do regret. But she wishes, now, that she had had a better relationship with Grianna. She wishes that Marvin hadn't poisoned her against her mother. And she wishes that she had gotten to grow up with her little sister. It's a strange experience, because most things that Wedy wishes for, she can acquire in a matter of hours.
"And how about you?" Michelle says. "What is it like, working for the most decorated detective in the world?"
Wedy considers this.
"Lucrative," she answers, honestly. "And tolerable, as far as full time jobs go."
"Do you still work as a thief?" Michelle asks, pausing to yawn enormously. "Or are you his thief now?"
"Well—"
"Does he live in England?" Michelle continues, excitedly. "Have you ever seen his face?"
"Steady on," Wedy says affectionately, holding up her hand. "Do you want to talk about me, or do you just want to talk about L?"
"I'm sorry," Michelle replies, grinning ruefully. "It's just that when I was growing up, he was such a part of your legend."
Wedy nods, and then spears Michelle with a sidelong look.
"Would you like to meet him someday?" she offers.
"I would give anything," Michelle answers. "But…only when you decide I'm ready. I don't want to overstep any boundaries, you know."
Matsuda wakes up on the couch with a half-eaten bowl of cereal balanced on his chest. Sunlight is streaming through the high windows, and his phone is vibrating its way across the floor noisily. He scoops it up and takes a split second to appreciate how beautiful the day is before reading the message.
It's from Wedy. Matsuda grins broadly. Wedy is absolutely amazing and beautiful and he loves her almost as much as he loves L. Her message is in code, which is always tricky because sometimes Matsuda forgets what the codes mean. His memory is just unreliable like that: holding onto thoughts can sometimes be like grappling with a large slippery fish. While both of your hands are made of soapy bacon. Matsuda is better at metaphors than he is at codes, but only slightly.
The message reads 72g. G means 'gone'. Wedy has found something she needs to do and won't be back for three days. Matsuda closes the phone, humming to himself. As he makes his way to the main office, he idly wonders what new plans his boss will have today for defeating Weird Stealing Hacker Person. L always wins against every single criminal he faces. Save one. But that's all right now, because Matsuda shot him and he's dead and he definitely won't ever come back.
Matsuda is still a tiny bit conflicted about Light. But it's impossible to feel bad for Light when you love L. The two of them are inverse forces of the universe, matter and antimatter, good and evil, Jekyll and Hyde. Santa and Satan. Cake and pumpkin. Damn, Matsuda is really hungry.
"Three days?" L echoes, when Matsuda finally remembers to tell him, somewhere between fixing his third plate of toast and Connor pulling his third plate of toast off the table and smearing it over the carpet. "Why?"
"Um," Matsuda says, rubbing the back of his neck. "We don't really have a code for why. But sometimes she just does stuff. Like shopping! And…things…"
L tilts his head to the side. Behind him, Naomi looks similarly concerned.
"So this is a normal occurrence," L says, slowly. "Wedy often disappears for multiple days at a time?"
Matsuda considers this.
"No, it isn't," Naomi answers for him, stepping forward. "L, we need to talk. There's something I should have told you last night."
Matsuda hesitates, wondering if she's going to ask him to leave the room. He understands that he is not as trustworthy as some of the other people in the L squad, even if the notion hurts him.
But nobody sends him away. Instead Naomi lowers her voice so that Connor cannot hear her, and tells them something Matsuda did not expect.
"She's with her sister."
"How are you?" Teru asks, edging towards the hospital bed.
"Broken," Edison answers, smiling at him broadly. "But I'm glad to see you."
The hospital room is tiny and cramped, painted in sterile cream. All of the furniture looks cold and hard, except for the tiny stool currently housing Edison's many get-well gifts. Teru wishes he had thought to bring a gift of his own. God knows Edison deserves it.
"You too," Teru answers, thickly. "Listen, I'm...I'm really sorry."
"Nah, don't be," Edison says, holding up one hand gingerly. "It wasn't your fault. It's a vocational hazard of being a constable, right?"
Most of his body is hidden beneath the covers. Teru cannot tell how much of him is bandaged or splinted, but he can tell that Edison is presently in a great deal of pain. This is the world Teru lives in, when good people suffer he can either do nothing or cause even more damage. There are no correct answers.
Except this: stay with Sergeant Berkshire.
Teru glances more closely at the pile of gifts, seeking some sort of distraction, something to turn the conversation onto a more pleasant topic. There is a tiny stuffed bear from Edison's sister, and mismatched flowers from Kylie, and a packet of tea from Stanton, and a box of chocolates from—
Wait, what? Tea isn't a regulation gift. Panic rises suddenly in Teru's chest.
"Edison," he says, carefully. "Why did Stanton give you tea?"
"Why wouldn't she? Tea is good for healing, right?" Edison bobs his head a little. His dyed-blonde hair is starting to grow out, showing the dark roots. "Besides, she's our sergeant. She's s'posed to look after us."
"Don't drink it," Teru says, flatly.
There must be a reason for this. There's a reason for everything Stanton does. She's trying to poison Edison, or drug him, or brainwash him. Or she's trying to buy his loyalty. Or maybe Teru is thinking about this too hard. Maybe, now that he knows Stanton is evil, he sees evil in everything she does.
"Okay," Edison says, irritably. "One, you're too late, I had some this morning and magically, I haven't died. And two, can you please stop talking trash about our boss. I know you don't like her, but people like me don't have many people to look up to. If you say anything else bad about her, I won't listen."
It really is too late, Teru thinks, sadly. She's already won him over.
The evil of Lydia Stanton cannot be overestimated. Not even by him.
L rubs his thumb against his lower lip. This was not something that he had anticipated, and he finds himself wholly unprepared to deal with it.
"It is possible," he says quietly, "that Michelle being at the Wilston residence that night was purely coincidental."
"But suspicious," Naomi says doggedly. "L, we both know that her sister is her only weakness. And we know that at least one hacker anticipated our presence at the Wilston residence at the exact time we were there."
"Yes," L agrees. He knows that, too. "It could be a set up. But Wedy, of all people, must also be aware of that possibility."
"Well, yes," Naomi says, pushing one hand through her short hair in a gesture of frustration. "But she may be blind to the risk. She's lonely, and now—"
"Lonely?" L asks, confused. They are all together now, like a proper family. Being in the second world without Rae, with nobody for company except Raye Penber and Mail Jeevas, was lonely. But how could anybody be lonely in this world, surrounded by friends?
"Yes, lonely," Naomi tells him. "Wedy has always been lonely, L. Why do you think she idealises her sister so much?"
L considers this. If Naomi is correct, and Wedy truly is feeling alone, then Michelle may be a much greater weakness than L previously calculated. But still, it is difficult to believe Naomi's assertions.
"With Matsuda, and myself, and Aiber?" he presses.
Naomi sighs.
"Sometimes, L, women want the company of other women. And Wedy and I do not get along."
That is observably true, however Naomi is the exact example L is using as a reference for his argument.
"But you do not seek external company."
"I would if I could," Naomi says, more quietly. "What this team needs is more important than what I want, L. But if I could somehow shoot the right person and have a girlfriend just fall into my lap, then I'd be delighted."
L sucks in a deep breath, recalculating his position. He does not understand; Naomi and Wedy have always been the only two women in his team, and they have always seemed to be perfectly content. But in this world, the team has become closer and more tight-knit. Naomi is without her husband, and Wedy has sacrificed much of her previous freedom. It is possible that, because of this change in circumstances, other desires are becoming more prominent.
If Wedy's sister is a significant weakness, and somebody else knows that, then Wedy could be in very real danger. And that is unacceptable.
"Matsuda," he calls, without moving away from Naomi. "Do you know where Wedy is right now?"
"He doesn't know," Naomi tells him. "But there are eight major shopping districts in London. I can almost guarantee you that they'll be in one of them."
L nods.
"That makes sense," he murmurs. "Naomi, can you please contact Aiber. The three of us will go out on surveillance."
"What about Weird Stealing Hacker Person?" Matsuda asks, leaning against the doorframe.
L does not hesitate.
"Wedy is more important," he replies.
"I believe I have found the location of one of the Big Four," Stanton's voice deadpans. "The address is sixty-two Belford Drive, Belford."
Sergeant Berkshire leans forward over his laptop, listening intently, hardly daring to believe his luck at having recorded such an important conversation.
He will not stand for Mills accessing any of the Big Four hackers. To allow her to acquire such a powerful ally against L would be disastrous. L must be protected at all costs, as must all good men. The only remaining question then is this, is Teru Mikami a good man? Berkshire is starting to have his doubts.
Mills answers unintelligibly. Berkshire wishes, not for the first time, that it had been possible to place a more sensitive tap.
"Understood," Stanton answers. "Tomorrow. Understood."
Tomorrow, Berkshire thinks, grinning to himself. If the plan is for tomorrow, then there's still time. He seizes his guns out of the cabinet
He's going to pay a visit to sixty-two Belford Drive tonight.
Naomi hasn't visited the Main Street Mall in quite some time. The cheerful lights and large crowds and dull thumping background music are starkly different to her quiet office back at headquarters. The bustle and the dozens of voices are almost overwhelming, but Connor is a grounding presence, his face pressed against her shoulder, his body a warm weight in her arms.
"Loud," he murmurs.
"I know," Naomi tells him. She takes him on outings sometimes, to the local park or to the convenience store. He knows people, and he knows how to handle himself around people, but he also doesn't like people. He can keep himself together in an emergency and he knows how to recognise one, but otherwise Naomi lets him express himself, including his inherent shyness.
He's a good kid. Raye would probably be proud of him. Absently, Naomi wonders whether Raye will enter the third world in time to see his son grow up. She doesn't need his help – she has never needed his help – and she can't help wondering whether he'd be disappointed in her parenting decisions. Raye is an old-fashioned man. He always wanted her to be a full-time mother, and she always wanted to go on doing her job.
This is the ultimate compromise. She does what she wants, and Raye isn't even around to know.
Matsuda is elsewhere in the mall, and the two of them are scouting out the high-end jewellery and clothing stores. Wedy's shopping habits are thankfully quite predictable. If she's here, they ought to find her without too much difficulty.
The question remains as to whether they will find her soon enough. Naomi ought to have told L about Michelle earlier. If anything has happened to Wedy, it will be Naomi's fault. And that is intolerable, because Naomi is supposed to protect all of L's team. Of course, protecting the team would be easier if half of them weren't in the second world and if L wasn't so irritatingly soft and emotional about everything.
Naomi throws her head back. When did it become this difficult? Was it always this difficult? Maybe it was easier before, or maybe she's slipping.
"Pterandon!" Connor exclaims suddenly, lifting his head and pointing at a nearby toy store. Sure enough, there is a large stuffed Pteranodon doll in the display window. "Please?"
"Later," Naomi assures him.
"When?" Connor asks, quietly.
"In a few days," Naomi answers. This will all be over in seventy-two hours, one way or another. Either Michelle will have revealed her true dastardly intentions, or Michelle won't have any dastardly intentions and Wedy will hate Naomi forever.
"Okay," Connor replies, comfortably.
It is very important that he trust Naomi, and so it is important that she keeps her promises. She will return to the store by the end of the week and buy him a few new plush dinosaur toys, no matter what the outcome of the current mission.
Naomi needs to be as good at being a mother as she is at being a deputy. Both are important jobs.
Half an hour later, they have ascertained that Wedy is not in the mall. So they move to the next shopping district and start the search all over again.
[Fivenine] – yo
[Fivenine} – Vol?
[Fivenine] – I wish you were there.
[Fivenine] – Goldilocks yelled at me. Apparently now we're gonna have to use her plan instead of mine.
[Fivenine] – and she says we have to wait a while, because it seems like someone else is after L at the minute and she doesn't want to get mixed up in it.
[Fivenine] – she's so beautiful.
[Fivenine] – anyway, let me know when you get back. We can swap theories about whoever is currently after L. Seems like they're going after that Wendy thief person. Maybe they're trying to
[Fivenine] – wtf?
[Fivenine] – there's a fucking police car parked right outside my house. I mean, it's obviously an undercover vehicle because it's not marked or anything, but it's definitely a police car.
[Fivenine] – okay that's not good.
[Fivenine] – where are you, Vol? I need you!
Berkshire drums his hands against the steering wheel, and watches the house at number sixty-two Belford Drive carefully. He needs to have a pretty good idea of the layout of the building before he enters, and right now he's not even sure whether anyone is home. And a hacker is sure to have excellent security.
He hasn't told Constable Mikami about this, because he wants to do this on his own. This isn't a nice, saving-people sort of job. This is about removing Mills' potential asset before she can use it. There isn't going to be any reasoning with someone as powerful as a Big Four hacker, and there isn't room for error.
Berkshire checks his gun for the third time. Locked, loaded, and ready.
There are always going to be a few casualties in the war against evil. Anyone who thinks otherwise is cowardly and weak.
[Fivenine] – hey, um, Hangman?
[Fivenine] – I know we aren't friends or anything.
[Fivenine] – but there's a police car outside my house.
[Fivenine] – do you know anything about it? Is anyone after us at the minute?
[Fivenine] – I know you're also based in the UK, so I thought you might know.
[Fivenine] – guess you're not there, either.
[Hangman] – dude hold your fucking horses
[Hangman] – I don't just sit at my computer all day waiting for you to message me you know.
[Fivenine] – I know you don't. I know you hate my guts.
[Hangman] – anyway, I'm not aware of any activity against us.
[Hangman] – maybe they're after you, specifically?
[Fivenine] – fuck.
[Hangman] – where do you live? Maybe I can help.
[Fivenine] – forget it. I'm not telling you anything.
"Twenty-four hours of marathon shopping," Michelle says, leaning back and wiggling her feet in the air. "I'm exhausted."
Wedy smiles indulgently.
"I guess I should be getting you home," she says. "After all, I wouldn't be much of a big sister if I kept you up two nights in a row."
"Huh," Michelle says, sounding much more subdued. "I guess that's true enough." She turns to Wedy, her eyes wide behind her semi-transparent designer sunglasses. "You wanna do this again sometime?"
Wedy hesitates. This isn't quite how she planned the conversation progressing, and she has absolutely no desire to return to the headquarters. But she needs to sleep and so does Michelle.
"Sure," Wedy says, taking a long drag of her cigar. "You know, I'm going to get a hotel room. You're welcome to join me."
Most people on the planet would die for an invitation like that. Michelle looks suitably thrilled.
"I'd love to," she replies, honestly.
[Fivenine] – hey Nocks.
[Fivenine] – hey Nocks?
[Fivenine] – okay I know you've never responded to anyone's messages.
[Fivenine] – to the point where Hangman isn't even sure whether you're a person or some sort of amazing bot.
[Fivenine] – but now would be a really good time to respond.
[Fivenine] – um, please.
[Fivenine] – come on man, this shit is scary.
/Nocks is idle.
[Fivenine] – I don't understand you at all.
"I can't believe we didn't find them," Matsuda says, mournfully. "Where can Wedy have gone?"
"I can't believe I'm saying this," Aiber muses, "but what if this Michelle person has already abducted her? Or worse?"
L considers this for a moment, chewing on his thumbnail.
"It is unlikely," he concludes, "that Wedy would not have at least attempted to contact one of us, had anything unseemly eventuated."
Additionally, anyone targeting Wedy is unlikely to be targeting Wedy alone. He does not expect that she will be murdered. If anything, he expects to receive a ransom note in the near future. After all, the fact that Wedy works for him is public knowledge.
"And if nothing has eventuated," Naomi says, "then they're probably resting somewhere."
The underlying question is this; how much does L trust Wedy's judgement at this time? Does he trust that she is safe and conserve resources, or does he go on looking until he finds her, whatever the cost? Five years ago, he would have chosen the latter option without a second thought. Rae has changed him.
"If we are to continue the search," Aiber says, "we've got a long few days ahead of us. There are literally tens of thousands of places to sleep in London, and that's assuming they haven't left the city. Hell, they could be on a jet to Paris for all we know."
"Three days," Naomi reminds them. "Wedy told us she'd be back in three days. If she's on a jet, she didn't plan to be there."
"For now," L says decisively, "we continue the search. If anyone hears from Wedy, they are to notify me immediately."
"L, we aren't going to find her," Aiber argues. "Why don't we wait a few hours and search the malls again, after the girls have had time to rest."
L shakes his head. If nothing else, he wants confirmation that Wedy is safe. If they find her sleeping soundly in a hotel room, that will be sufficient for him to leave her in peace. But there are too many variables right now, and too much uncertainty regarding Wedy's safety.
"We continue the search," he repeats. "We will examine all forms of accommodation, working from the inner city to the outer suburbs. Naomi, please cover the northern quarter of the city. Aiber will cover the east. Matsuda will cover the south, and I will take the west."
"It will take days—" Aiber begins, and then falls silent when he meets L's eyes. "I…I understand."
"Why don't we try the Royal Grand Hotel?" Matsuda pipes up, eagerly, apparently having missed most of the conversation somehow.
"We're trying all hotels," Aiber tells him, affectionately.
"Yes, I know," Matsuda says. "It's silly, I suppose, but Wedy once told me that the Royal Grand was her favourite. Maybe she took her sister there?"
Ah, yes. L sometimes still forgets that Matsuda is an intermittently useful person who can divulge quite important information at times.
"We'll stop by on our way to the city centre," he tells them. "Before we split up."
Maybe, if he's very lucky, this will end well.
It takes Sergeant Berkshire two minutes to pick the lock. Then he takes his gun from the holster and enters the house, moving silently across the floor. The only activity is in one of the far rooms, and there seems to be only one person home.
The life of a hacker is lonely, apparently. But the Big Four are practically superstars, and Berkshire doesn't pity them. He moves into the hall, noting that all of the furniture seems to be relatively cheap. The walls are adorned with photographs of various stereotypically attractive men and women. Berkshire recognises a photograph of deceased supervillain Roderick the Great, and vaguely recognises a photograph of a young blonde woman. Possibly some sort of model? Berkshire isn't certain. Up ahead, he can hear the faint sound of furious typing. Apparently the hacker hasn't even noticed that an intruder is in the house.
Idiot.
How did you let Stanton and Mills find you in the first place? Idiot.
Mills is a dangerous woman, and Stanton is her most dangerous weapon. But Stanton is not infallible, and Berkshire will not fail. As long as he's around to neutralise his colleague, everything will be okay. L will be protected. The world will be protected. And Berkshire doesn't have to work alone. He has a staunch, if cowardly, ally in Constable Mikami, and the evidence is starting to point to the possibility that some other, unknown person in Southwest is also working against Stanton and Mills. Files have been deleted. Evidence regarding L's activities seem to have been misplaced with some regularity. Stanton's enemies are starting to increase in number.
Berkshire rounds another corner, and presses himself against the wall. The room straight ahead of him is occupied, with warm light spilling out the open door and colouring part of the hall. Berkshire cocks his gun and listens carefully. No noise is coming from inside the room. No movement, and no typing. The hacker is on the alert. Berkshire needs to act carefully.
"I know you're there!" someone calls, suddenly. The voice is deep and anxious-sounding. "You…you walk away right now, do you hear? Or I'll kill you!"
He doesn't sound like a threat to Berkshire. He sounds like a panicking young man. Berkshire is almost sorry to have to do this to him. Still, the Big Four are international criminals and nuisances. You can't protect good people without killing a few bad people. He's a police officer, so it's not like he's going to go to hell for this.
Berkshire rounds the corner and holds out his gun. The hacker is sitting in a computer chair in the middle of the room. He has short, curly hair and bad acne and a pistol in his shaking hand.
"I'll kill you!" he says again, terrified.
Berkshire grins.
"I guess it'll come down to which of us shoots first, then," he replies, and reaches for the trigger.
It takes Aiber exactly three minutes to talk the hotel receptionist into letting him peruse the guest list. He recognises one of Wedy's many aliases immediately. Ethel Jones. Wedy has an ironic preference for old-fashioned names for her temporary identities. Aiber steps away from the counter and contacts L.
"I'm pretty sure she's here," he says quietly. "Room 306. You want me to check?"
"Yes," L answers. "Confirm that she is okay, and then leave."
"Understood," Aiber replies.
It takes him less than twenty seconds to convince the receptionist that Ethel Jones is his darling little cousin and that she really ought to give him a key card to access Wedy's room. A less cynical man might be alarmed at the terrible security, but Aiber is used to being able to get his way with nothing but a smile and a few fast words.
He catches the elevator to the third floor, admiring the red and gold trimmings, and locates room 306 easily. There is no keyhole to peep through, so Aiber goes ahead and lets himself in. At worst, Wedy will be angry with him. At best, he'll manage to save her from some sort of terrible fate.
But instead, he finds two women fast asleep in their beds. One is obviously Wedy, and she is alive and healthy, her golden hair puddling around her face. The other is a younger woman with white blonde hair. Aiber can sort of see the family resemblance. Neither of them stir, and he closes the door carefully so as not to wake them.
He calls L back.
"Everything is fine," he confirms. "She's fine. I'm coming back."
"Thank goodness," L replies.
[Fivenine] – VOLUTION!
[Fivenine] – VOLUTION HELP!
[Volution] – I'm here. What happened?
[Volution] – are you okay?
[Fivenine] – something happened.
[Volution] – it will be okay. Are you hurt?
[Fivenine] – no, I just. This guy broke into my house and I just…
[Fivenine] – I killed him.
[Fivenine] – I shot at him and he just dropped dead.
[Fivenine] – I think he's some sort of policeman.
[Fivenine] – help me, Vol.
[Volution] – wow that is a mess.
[Volution] – I'm going to get you out of this, okay?
[Volution] – do exactly as I tell you.
As soon as the door closes, Michelle opens her eyes and gets silently to her feet. Beside her, the thief known as Wedy goes on sleeping like an overgrown baby, blissfully unaware.
Perfect, Michelle thinks, carding one hand through her hair. L's goons came right to her door. And now that they've seen their thief is safe, all that remains is for her to follow them home.
Once she has an address, she'll be richly rewarded.
Everything is going exactly as Theo promised.
tbc
a/n:
+ thank you for reading
+ next update will be within a month
