We stepped through a twisting series of corridors and incomprehensible hallways. The walls were an eerie, shadowy violet and appeared to be closing in on us, ever so slowly. The slightest sounds we made were magnified so greatly that we could hear each other breathing.

"Mm... I think this is the door. Get behind me, just in case. And don't move from where you are," Mello whispered. Cautiously, he leaned against the wall and grasped the handle. With a sudden tug that set my heart pounding, he flung it open, so we were safely behind it.

Wild gunfire greeted the empty air at the entrance. The bullets had barely embedded themselves into a wall when Mello sank to the floor. Horror gripped me, but I stayed still, more because I was in cold shock than because he had instructed me to. Bullets always petrified me, for some reason. But, god, was Mello hit? I watched for some sign of life, but none could be found.

Still behind the door, barely daring to breathe, I watched through the gap between the hinge and the door as a greasy-haired man awkwardly armed with a machine gun came out to investigate his -dead?- body.

Swiftly, Mello brought the gun up and neatly knocked him out.

Mello entered the room and I felt tenser than ever. If he didn't return, what would I do?

Of course, he came back, with a grim expression on his face. Relief slowed the tempo of my heartbeat.

"I don't think L will be helping us," he said.

"I-is he dead?"

"No, but he's not here. His office is a mess, more than usual. Something happened, but I... well, he's gone. He could have been kidnapped, but that doesn't strike me as something the great L would allow."

"He might have left. Who is-" I gestured to the unconscious man with the toe of my left combat boot, "-that?"

He glanced at the poor assassin with ill-hidden disgust. "Some scum whoever made L leave hired, I guess." He crouched and gingerly forced the gunner's sleeve up. "A druggie, looks like."

Needle tracks ran along his arm. Mello let the limb drop back to the carpet.

"Now," he mused, "could this be a coincidence? The top executives of the biggest private investigation firm in the US are murdered, except for you, since you happened to be heading to England. Which, by the way, I was about to tell your dad about that. Sneaking out of the big meeting?"

"Uh... well, it turned out for the best, right? Wait- so you were on the plane with me?"

He looked amused. "Yes. Of course."

"I didn't see anybody on there that looked like you- oh, wait a minute..."

The master of disguise brandished a huge, very familiar pair of sunglasses before tucking them back in his coat pocket. "I'm not above transvestism," he assured, and I had to fight a snort.

"In addition to the largest private investigation company being robbed of most of its leaders, we have the greatest detective in the world missing. Maybe it's a coincidence, or maybe not. We'll see."

"Where now?"

He shrugged. "I guess you can come live with me until we can figure out what the hell went wrong here."