A/N: Well, those of you who read all of my angsty, emo posting on my ff net profile page know why this is so very, very late. I didn't manage to write a single word of fic the entire month of December. I only started writing this chapter five days ago when my muse finally forgave me for being so whiney, and got the creative juices flowing again.

Many, many thanks to those of you who reviewed chapter 10. Reading your reviews helped get me back on track, so you can definitely take credit for the continuation of this fic. Here's hoping you won't regret it. :)

Story Notes: Uh-oh. I think my canon-divergence is showing.


The Case of the Missing Detective

File 11: Kriegspiel


Jodie knew that trying to contact Rena Mizunashi, a.k.a. "Kir" of the Black Organization, was dangerous under the best of circumstances. The very attempt put Kir at risk. If anyone from the Organization discovered that Kir was secretly communicating with the FBI, her own CIA non-official cover would be exposed and her life would be forfeit.

Shuu had sacrificed his life to protect Kir's secret and restore her credibility within the Black Org, and had given the FBI a valuable source of intel in the process. The last thing Jodie wanted was to destroy that precious, tenuous link. But if ever she needed inside info about the Org, it was now.

It had been seventeen hours since Conan-kun had been abducted from Beika General Hospital. Fifteen hours since Jodie had seen it on the news, and nearly as long since she had sent Kir a text from her new cell phone requesting information, in spite of the risk.

She paced the living room of her apartment, fighting the urge to chew on her thumbnail - a nervous habit she thought she had overcome, until recently. The television was on, but muted, showing a young female reporter standing at the end of Professor Agasa's street, a swarm of police cars behind her. A red "Breaking News" subtitle announced that the mercenary hired to abduct Conan had been found dead of an apparent heart attack, right at the scene of the first kidnapping attempt. Mystery Deepens! the ticker proclaimed. Why did he return? And where is Edogawa Conan?

She wanted to be there. She wanted to be in the thick of the investigation. But it wasn't possible. The police knew she was FBI - supposedly disgraced after screwing up a mission in the US, and here in Japan on sabbatical. But then there was the unfortunate incident when Agent Camel had been a murder suspect, and she had come to his rescue, concocting a cover story on the spot that had her fellow FBI agent in Japan only because he was her lover and had followed her here out of concern for her well-being.

Inspector Megure and Detective Takagi were no fools, and both had expressed open suspicion about her impromptu cover story. She couldn't afford to raise any more suspicion that she or any of her fellow agents were in Japan as anything other than tourists. If she did, she could completely expose the FBI's presence in Japan, create an international incident, and get herself and her fellow agents kicked out of the country before they could take down the Organization, destroying decades of work.

Fifteen hours. What was taking Kir so long to respond?

Please, she thought for the thousandth time. Please don't let her have been found out because of my text.

She knelt next to the table where her laptop sat open and checked to see if any of her fellow agents had found anything yet; if any of them had noticed Black Org activity, or had discovered any leads on what had happened to Conan-kun. The computer was still depressingly devoid of any new messages or emails. Her phone sat next to the laptop, dark and silent.

Her stomach rumbled, and she frowned. It was past lunch time, but with her stomach twisting with anxiety, she had no appetite. Still, if she didn't force herself to eat something, she would regret it. She pushed herself to her feet, went to the fridge, and pulled out a canned protein drink. She could choke that down, at least.

As she swallowed the last of the chalky, vaguely strawberry-flavored liquid, her phone rang. Starting in surprise, she dropped the empty can, rushed back to the table, snatched up the phone and answered. "Hello?"

"I don't have much time, so listen closely," Kir's voice said.

"Okay," Jodie said. Her head was almost swimming with relief, and she forced herself to focus.

"The Org is not behind the kidnapping. I investigated, and not only is there no evidence, the news story isn't even stirring any interest on any level, either being completely ignored or just dismissed as inconsequential. As far as I can tell, the boy is still of no concern to the Organization."

Jodie closed her eyes. Okay. At least they didn't have him. But then who did, and why? "What about Vermouth?" she asked. They both knew that Vermouth had been keeping her eye on Conan-kun for a long time.

"The Boss has had her busy with other projects. If she's involved, she's acting on her own."

Jodie frowned. That was hardly comforting.

"That's not all," Kir said, her voice low and urgent. "I was planning to contact you soon anyway, because something big has come up. A member of the Organization has been promoted to the upper echelons, and is on the move."

Jodie swallowed the question that wanted to escape her mouth, and didn't interrupt, listening intently. A new high-level Org member? Definitely bad news.

"This person is extremely skilled at investigation and intel gathering, and has a reputation for having a keen insight that's almost a sixth sense. Code name, Bourbon. So be careful."

Before Jodie could even acknowledge that she understood, the line went dead. She looked at her phone, the time of the call - 51.98 seconds - blinking before the screen went black.

Bourbon. Investigation and intel gathering. Jodie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and glanced back at the television. On the screen, behind the reporter, the police tape and the stone wall, she could see the top level of Professor Agasa's house through the trees. Was activating this new agent another Org attempt to track down Ai-chan, a.k.a. Sherry? Conan-kun had told her that Vermouth had given up the chase. Had this new agent been dispatched to complete Vermouth's failed mission?

Jodie bit her lower lip, and briefly clenched her fists. If Conan-kun hadn't been kidnapped last night, she would be calling him right now, warning him of this new danger, urging him to protect his quiet, stubborn little friend who reminded her so much of herself at that age.

Grabbing the remote off her end table, she turned off the television, then grabbed her keys and coat as she headed out the door. As she locked up behind her, she hit the first number on her phone's speed dial.

James answered after the second ring. "Jodie-kun," he said, "did you hear back from-"

"Yes," Jodie said. "Meet me in front of my building as soon as possible. Oh, and I need to borrow your car."

"Hm," James said. "Rather than borrowing, I think you should let me drive."

Jodie sighed. James preferred to chauffeur her around, and she wasn't sure if it was because he didn't trust her driving skills, or if he just couldn't bear to have anyone else behind the wheel of his Mercedes. Her own car had been hijacked by Vermouth during the incident at the docks, abandoned in a forest, and then confiscated by the police as evidence in a case that led exactly nowhere. So as far as transportation went, she didn't have much of a choice. "Fine," she said, her tone long-suffering.

"I'll be there in five," said James. "I look forward to hearing your report."

Jodie smiled, one eyebrow raised, and wondered if James would feel the same way once she had given her report and had informed him of her plan of action - one that could protect Ai-chan, and allow her to get involved in finding Conan-kun at the same time.


Five minutes after learning what Heiji-kun and Kaito-kun had discovered at the address where his abducted son had been taken the previous night, Kudo Yusaku walked out the front doors of the Park Hyatt Tokyo Hotel and stepped into a waiting taxi.

"Where to, sir?"

"The Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare, please."

The driver glanced back at him for a moment. Yusaku observed as the driver took in his immaculate, expensive suit and drew conclusions about his social importance and potential wealth, yet showed no hint of recognition. Understandable, since the driver, Fuganaga Yuuto, wasn't much of a reader, apparently preferring to spend his off hours drinking at a sports bar in Shinagawa with his two best friends from high school before going home to his three cats, one of which was apparently expecting a litter of kittens any day now.

"Yes sir," the driver said, after that momentary glance.

As the taxi pulled away from the curb, Yusaku's smart phone chimed in his vest pocket. He withdrew it to see a text from Kaito-kun.

Hattori-kun and I would like to know more about the tip you gave us. Can we meet?

He raised an eyebrow. Kaito-kun had a streak of diplomacy, it seemed. Yusaku rather doubted the tone of the text would be as civil if Heiji-kun had sent it. After all, who else but the dead mercenary found at Agasa's could be the source of the tip? The boys would put two and two together and want answers, of course.

I am currently on an important errand, he sent back. But my wife has the answers you're looking for. You'll find her waiting for you at the Poirot Café.

With that taken care of, Yusaku quickly scanned through the phone's pages of contacts, and dialed.

"This is Yunokawa," a man's voice answered. "Kudo-san... is it really you?"

"It's really me, Senior Vice Minister-sama," Yusaku said, smiling.

"Well, how wonderful! I almost didn't believe what my caller ID was showing me. Are you back in Japan?"

"Yes. But I am afraid this is not a social call. I need to meet with you as soon as possible regarding a matter of utmost urgency."

"... I see. Can you come to my office at the Ministry?"

"I'm on my way there now, actually."

There was a mild huff of air. "Of course you are. I will inform Reception to expect you, and my assistant will bring you to my office."

"Thank you very much, Yunokawa-sama. I am in your debt."

"Actually, I believe I'm in yours," Yunokawa said seriously. "I'll see you soon, Kudo-san."

When the call ended, Yusaku slid his phone into his inner vest pocket, stifling the urge to sigh. He was lucky. Minister Yunokawa could have been in meetings all day, or could have been out of town altogether. If that had been the case, there were other people in the Ministry that Yusaku could contact, but none of them had as much political clout - or ability to grant unorthodox favours - as Yunokawa.

He looked out the window, silently, almost unconsciously making note of the people, the buildings, the vehicles... He closed his eyes, and, unbidden, the image of his son filled his mind.

Knowing what he knew about Shinichi's captors, it was only through long-practiced metal discipline that he was able to keep his thoughts from cycling through all the terrible possibilities of what might be happening to his son.

Be strong, Shinichi. I will find you. Until then, fight. Don't let them break you.


The little park was just around the block from the house where Shinichi had been taken. Ran sat on a bench. Ai-chan sat next to her, her face pale, her arms wrapped around herself as if she felt chilled. Ran suppressed the urge to pull the girl into a hug, unsure of whether or not Ai-chan would appreciate such a gesture.

Heiji-kun and Kuroba-kun were over on the sidewalk by the street, and Heiji-kun looked ready to explode. He was pacing back and forth, muttering curses under his breath, pausing only to look up and down the street to see if the taxi was coming, then resuming his pacing when he saw it wasn't. Ran was almost sure she could see a vein pulsing in his forehead.

Kuroba-kun, on the other hand, seemed the picture of nonchalance as he tapped a text into his smart phone.

Heiji-kun paused long enough to scowl at the phone. "You tell Kudo-san that if he met with who I think he met with-"

Kuroba-kun held up a hand, cutting off Heiji-kun's rant. "Let me handle this." He looked up and met Heiji-kun's furious gaze. "Please."

Heiji-kun clenched his jaw, turned away sharply, and stomped off to glare at the street again.

Ran sat silently, watching all of this, while inside, pieces of memory kept clicking into place. Memories that had seemed completely innocuous until now.

She thought about New York, sitting in the back of Shinichi's mom's Jaguar, listing to Sharon Vineyard tell the story of how her daughter, Chris, had shown up to her father's grave disguised as the dead man himself when Sharon was there leaving flowers.

Ran thought it a cruel joke at the time. A terrible thing for a daughter to do to her grieving mother.

But now Ran realized the joke was on her. Sharon was Chris Vineyard, and Chris Vineyard was Vermouth. There had never been a feud between mother and estranged daughter. It was all a lie. A cover story. A bit of interesting, but invented gossip for Sharon's fans.

Kuroba-kun's phone chimed. "That was quick," he said, looking a little surprised. Then he read the text, and his surprise turned to a half-lidded expression of mild irritation.

"What did he say?" Heiji demanded. "Will he meet us?"

Kuroba-kun shoved his phone back into his pocket. "He says he's on an errand, that his wife is waiting for us back at the café, and that she'll answer our questions about the tip he gave us."

And then Ran understood. "Of course," she said, her eyes widening. Chills ran through her as everything fell into place.

Kuroba-kun and Heiji-kun both turned to her. "Of course, what?" Heiji-kun said.

She looked up at him. "Shinichi's mother and Sharon Vineyard... Vermouth. They were friends." She felt Ai-chan start beside her.

"Friends?" Heiji-kun's anger turned to incredulity. "Friends how?"

Ran shook her head slightly, her gaze turned inward as she remembered. "Shinichi and I... his mom took us on a trip to New York, and Sharon was there. She got us tickets for a Broadway musical... and when we met her, Shinichi's mom said that she and Sharon had studied the art of disguise together from a famous Japanese magician... but that Sharon was so much better at it than she was..."

And then Ran thought about Ariade-sensei, and how Vermouth had gone undetected disguised as the doctor for weeks...

Kuroba-kun had gone very still. She looked at him, and he was staring at her intently. "Did she mention," he said, his voice almost bland in comparison to the look in his eyes, "who the Japanese magician was?"

"No," she said. "Why?"

He looked away, his face an expressionless mask, and for a few moments she thought he wasn't going to answer her.

"My father was a famous magician," he said at last. "And he was very good at the art of disguise."

As many questions as that one statement brought to mind, only one came to the forefront. "... Was?" she asked quietly.

He didn't look at her. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down the street as casual as if he was just waiting for their taxi. "He's dead."

Ran felt her mouth go dry. She swallowed, and the words I'm sorry were on her lips, when Heiji-kun spoke first.

"Kuroba," Heiji-kun said, his brow furrowed. "Kuroba..." His eyes widened. "Your father was Kuroba Toichi."

The name struck a familiar chord in Ran. She looked at Kuroba-kun, who simply nodded once, still looking down the street.

"I remember," Heiji-kun said, frowning thoughtfully. "Eight years ago... there was a stage accident-"

"It was no accident," Kuroba-kun said, turning sharply to face Heiji-kun. His eyes were burning. "My father was murdered."

Heiji-kun's brow furrowed. "Murdered?"

Kuroba-kun glared at Heiji-kun, as if daring him to contradict him, but Ran recognized that Heiji-kun wasn't arguing, but had instinctively gone into investigative mode.

"Yes," Kuroba-kun said. "Murdered.

"Do you know who-"

"A man named Snake," Kuroba-kun said shortly. "Dresses in dark clothes and works for a mysterious organization. And no, I don't know if it's the Black Org, or another shadowy underground syndicate obsessed with immortality."

Heiji-kun raised an eyebrow. "Immortality?"

Kuroba-kun sighed. "There's this artifact they're after..." he said, and then he waved the question away in exasperation. "But that's not the point! We're getting off track. Look, what have we just learned?"

He turned to Ran. "We know that Kudo-kun's parents and my parents have known each other since before any of us were born. We know that Kudo-kun's mom was friends with Vermouth back when they were being taught the art of disguise - probably from my dad."

"It... might have been a different magician," Ran offered hesitantly.

Kuroba-kun shook his head. "Not likely. And, again, not the point. Where did Kudo-san get the tip that led us here? From his wife, apparently. Where did she get it? Her son, who has deep connections with the Black Organization, is kidnapped. Who is the first suspect that comes to mind? Why, her old friend - who's not so friendly any more."

Kuroba-kun began pacing, emphasizing his words with broad, theatrical gestures. "Kudo-kun's mom confronts Vermouth. Where's my son, she says! But Vermouth doesn't know, because the Org's not behind it. Oh, but it is! says Kudo-san, because we think the man behind my son's abduction used to work for you!"

Kuroba-kun pointed dramatically to the imaginary Vermouth he was conversing with, and Ran suddenly felt like she was watching a play - a one-man performance, with Kuroba-kun acting all the parts.

"And suddenly!" Kuroba-kun continued, "Vermouth is very interested in finding this man as well. So interested in fact that, in less that one night, she uses her Black Org connections to find this hired mercenary. Oh yes, she's that good. All the cops in Tokyo are trying to find him, but she knows how the criminal thinks. She knows what he's going to do to try to disappear. And she finds him."

Ran found herself leaning forward, her eyes wide, completely caught up in Kuroba-kun's narrative.

"Vermouth confronts the mercenary," Kuroba-kun continued, crouching and reaching out, almost as if to grapple with some invisible assailant. "Maybe she threatens him. She demands that he tell her what he knows, or he faces torture and death! ... Or maybe," he said, straightening as another idea seemed to occur to him. "Maybe... she makes promises - money, power, a ticket out of town, who knows. All he has to do is point the way to the man who hired him." Kuroba-kun smiled grimly. "But whatever she does, it works, because she gets the address of this house where he delivered Kudo-kun to his employer last night." Kuroba-kun looked toward the house. It wasn't visible with the trees and the brick wall that surrounded the park obscuring the view, but to Ran, it seemed like he could see it anyway.

"And then," Kuroba-kun said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "she poisons him with a remarkable, undetectable drug, that she just happens to have on hand, that makes his death look like a heart attack. Then she sends Kudo-kun's mom the address, and it gets passed to us through Kudo-san. But that's not all," he said, turning on his heel and looking at Ai-chan. "Just to make sure that we know exactly who we're dealing with, she has the mercenary's body dumped right in the home of the one person she despises most of all, but has promised not to harm." He grinned without warmth. "Just her little way of saying, Hi."

Ran looked down at Ai-chan, worried about her reaction to Kuroba-kun's performance... but Ai-chan was staring, not in fear, but almost with morbid fascination. Ran looked over at Heiji-kun, who was also staring, but his expression was unreadable.

They stayed that way for the space of a few moments, before Kuroba-kun blinked, then straightened. He cleared his throat, and then looked over at Heiji-kun.

"Well," he said, "did I miss anything?"

Heiji-kun just stared at him, his eyes slightly narrowed. Finally, he said, slowly, "Are you sure you're not a detective?"

Kuroba-kun's face expressed one moment of shock, before he grinned, almost manic, his eyes sparkling with laughter. "Pretty sure," he said.

"You certainly have a flair for the dramatic," Ai-chan said, her voice dry, but a slight smile on her face. "I almost felt like I needed to applaud there at the end."

Kuroba-kun just shrugged. "I can't help it. It's in my blood. My mom is a magician too."

"And what about you?" Ai-chan asked. "Are you a magician as well?"

"Eh," he said, "I dabble a bit." With that, he waved his hand with a flourish, and produced a white carnation out of thin air. He bowed to Ai-chan. "For you, ojousan."

"Hmph," Ai-chan said, trying to look unimpressed and failing as she took the flower. "Not bad, I guess."

Kuroba-kun clutched his chest. "Again, she wounds me with words."

"If you guys are through with your little outdoor production," Heiji-kun said, "the taxi's here."

They all piled into the back of a taxi for the second time that day. And Ran couldn't help but notice that, the entire drive back to Beika, Heiji-kun watched Kuroba-kun with narrowed, thoughtful eyes the entire time.


"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Yusaku said, bowing to Minister Yunokawa. The Minister bowed as well, and gestured for him to sit in the plush chair on the other side of the large mahogany desk.

"Of course, Kudo-san," he said, settling himself into his own chair. "Please. What can I do for you?"

"I'm afraid my request may seem unusual."

The Minister laughed shortly. "Knowing you, that does not come as a surprise."

"I... will be asking a great deal of you. But I assure you, I would not ask were it not..." Yusaku paused, and cleared his throat. "To put it bluntly, a life is on the line, and time is of the essence."

The humor faded from the Minister's eyes, replaced with open concern. "If it is within my power, I will do it."

Yusaku nodded his thanks. "There is a doctor," he said, "who is currently employed somewhere in one of Japan's hospitals. He was hired within the past year, and he is working under a false name, under false pretenses. I have strong evidence that his medical practice is unscrupulous in the extreme."

The Minister frowned. "Exactly how unscrupulous are we talking?"

"Biochemical and surgical human experimentation on unwilling participants."

The Minister paled. "I see." He seemed to ponder that for a moment, and Yusaku saw him cast a glance over at a bookshelf where, nestled between recent medical journals and encyclopedias, a lone, dog-eared copy of Tsuneishi Keiichi's book, Unit 731: The True Story Behind the Biological Weapons Crimes sat in a scandalously observable spot.

"And he is doing this now?" the Minister asked.

"Possibly as we speak," Yusaku said. "As I mentioned, a life currently hangs in the balance."

"Who's life?"

Yusaku met the Minister's gaze. "I am not at liberty to say. But believe me when I tell you that he is far from the first victim of this doctor's research."

The Minister heaved a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. "What do you need from me?"

"I need the records of all physicians who have been hired at hospitals in Japan within the past twelve months. Specifically, university hospitals with labs and research facilities and any smaller hospitals within driving distance. I need copies of the hiring records, as well as photo IDs if possible. This is where I will start my search."

"Start?"

"Minister..." Yusaku leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him. "The man I am looking for is working at a hospital in Japan right now. If he is not at a university hospital, or somewhere close by, then I will expand my search to each and every one of Japan's 8,605 hospitals, and 99,547 medical clinics. But I hope my deduction is correct, because time is of the essence, and if I do not find this doctor soon, the... the young man who his at his mercy may not emerge whole, if he emerges at all."

Yusaku felt as though he had kept his voice remarkably steady, but the Minister peered at him intently all the same.

"You know this young man personally, don't you."

Denial was rather pointless after his little speech, he supposed. "I do," he said.

"You will find this monster and bring him to justice?"

"I will."

"Can you do it... quietly?" The Minister passed his hand over his eyes. "I would prefer if the world not know that we have a burgeoning Ishii Shiro hiding within the Japanese medical system."

"I would very much prefer it that way as well," Yusaku said.

"Very well." The Minister sat up straight and placed both hands flat on the table in front of him. "I will get you what you need. And when you find this so-called doctor, I wish to know exactly how he managed to defeat our rigorous screening processes. Please expect to hear from me within the next day or so."

Yusaku understood the dismissal, and got to his feet before bowing deeply. "Thank you, Minister Yunokawa. You have my deepest, most sincere gratitude."

And then, as he was walking to the door, the Minister's voice stopped him.

"Kudo-san, I was wondering if you could tell me... what happened to your son, Shinichi?"

"My son," Yusaku echoed. He stood stiffly, not turning around.

"Yes. He was so prominent in the news, helping the police solve some of their toughest cases, and then he seemed to vanish. Has been traveling with you and your wife?"

"Traveling?" Yusaku said. "Yes."

"Well, I hope he comes back soon. I'm glad you're back, Kudo-san, but when you leave again, it would be nice to know there's still a Kudo here to have our backs."

Yusaku turned and managed a slight smile. "I will be sure to pass your sentiments on to him, Minister. Thank you again for your help."

He left quickly, then, closing the office door behind him.


Matsumara had assured Hana that their cover story was rock solid, but she still found her heart climbing into her throat the first time an unknown nurse came into the room.

She was young, probably just a year or two into her residency. "Excuse me," she said as she entered. "Okazaki-sensei? I'm here to take Akio-kun to his CT scan appointment. Isao-sensei is ready for him."

It startled Hana to hear the boy called by that name, especially since she had done her best to avoid thinking of him by any name at all. But then, the boy was supposed to Matsumara's nephew, his brother's son. Matsumara Akio. Not Kudo Shinichi, or even Edogawa Conan. Those identities were gone. Erased. Whoever or whatever he might have been before, now he was just a specimen with a false name that would allow her fellow conspirators to conduct their experiments with impunity.

Still, not completely without risk. Normally, a CT technician would handle the scan rather than the neurosurgeon himself, but they couldn't chance anyone outside their group seeing the boy's real brain scans. He was supposed to be a child who suffered from status epilepticus; who was being kept in a coma to prevent a state of persistent tonic-clonic seizures caused by a tumor and lesions. The fact that his brain was healthy would be immediately, glaringly obvious to anyone who saw the real scans.

Isao already had the scans of a lesioned brain prepared for the boy's file, and that wasn't all. Matsumara had helped prepare falsified MRIs, x-rays, blood test results... The course of the boy's "illness" had been carefully plotted in advance to allow for tests and surgeries without arousing suspicion.

The nurse wheeled in a narrow gurney, and Hana got to her feet to help maneuver the IV stand and the respirator. "So, this is Matsumara-sensei's nephew?" the nurse said, looking at the boy with an expression full of pity as she pulled the blanket down and unstrapped his wrists and ankles. "The poor thing. They were saying at the nurses station that his father died and his mother abandoned him?"

"Yes," Hana agreed. Well, gossip was apparently ensuring that the cover story was being shared with hospital personnel.

The nurse sighed as she carefully lifted the boy from the bed and placed him on the gurney, while Hana made sure none of his lines tangled. "Well, it's a good thing Matsumara-sensei had him brought here. Isao-sensei will fix him right up, I'm sure. He's one of the best."

Hana made a noncommittal noise, and tried not to think about how, tomorrow, Isao would be drilling a hole in the boy's skull and poking a biopsy needle through his brain all the way down to the tiny, almond-shaped hypothalamus, under the pretense of getting a tumor sample.

It was a safe procedure, she reminded herself. Stereotactic biopsies were very precise, with the CT scan and MRI providing exact three-dimensional coordinates in the brain. The scans taken today would be fed into a computer and then super-imposed over a live feed during the surgery, and then it was a simple matter of inserting the needle, obtaining the tissue sample, removing the needle and stitching up the scalp. And chances of complications, such as bleeding or scarring, were minimal.

Which was good, since there would be at least three more biopsies after tomorrow's procedure, for other areas of the brain that held Isao's interest.

Mastumara was waiting in the CT control room with Isao when she helped the nurse wheel the boy into the scanner room. Hana didn't like the look on either of their faces.

Fantastic. They had bad news again.

When the boy was situated on the scanner bed, Matsumara dismissed the nurse, and Hana joined him and Isao in the control room so that she wouldn't be exposed to the scan's radiation burst. "Okay," she said, her hands on her hips. "Something has happened. Let's hear it."

"The mercenary he hired," Isao said, in a low, hissing whisper. "Some kids found his dead body at the scene of the first kidnapping attempt."

Hana cursed. Her stomach suddenly felt like a ball of lead. "Don't tell me. He was murdered."

"It's worse than that," Isao said. He was more irritable than she had ever seen him. "The news is reporting he died of an apparent heart attack."

Hana looked at Matsumara. The fact that he seemed completely unperturbed did nothing to ease her mind. "Your former employers?" she asked. "The apotoxin?"

He looked through the glass window at the boy on the scanner bed and shook his head. "The Org doesn't know about him. If they knew who he was, he would have been captured or killed months ago. They have no reason to be interested in his kidnapping or his kidnapper."

"So how do you explain your mercenary's death?" Hana demanded.

He looked at her and shrugged. "Apparently he had a heart attack," he said.

"Right at the site of the first kidnapping attempt," Isao pointed out again. "Why did he go back? What if he talked to someone?"

"It doesn't matter," Matsumara said, his voice still maddeningly calm. "He didn't have any information that could lead to us."

"Other than the address of where we all gathered last night," Isao practically snarled.

"Which will lead them exactly nowhere," Matsumara said, glaring sidelong at Isao. "You and I made sure of that. Now, are we going to continue arguing over inconsequential distractions, or are we going to get down to business?"

Isao muttered something under his breath, before turning to the control panel and starting the scan.

The CT scan didn't take long; less than five minutes. And then they were on to the next appointment in the next room.

The MRI took almost a full hour, since Matsumara wanted a full body scan, not just one of the brain. Once the MRI machine started up, Matsumara left, claiming that he needed to return to whatever business he had elsewhere in the hospital. Isao stayed in the control room. Hana, on the other hand, sat next to the machine, managing the IV drips and respirator as the boy entered the imaging chamber.

The noise was terrible. It was like sitting next to a construction zone, and she was soon regretting not bringing earplugs. The banging, the clanking, the buzzing and beeping as the machine slowly took its pictures were maddening. She watched the boy inside the chamber, but other than the rise and fall of his chest, he lay limp and unmoving on the table in spite of the relentless cacophony.

Well, kid, she thought. The merc who snatched you is dead. Maybe of a heart attack, but then again... maybe he was murdered. What do you think? Would you be able to solve this mystery with that detective mind of yours?

Then again, she thought, heaving a sigh, it was quite possible he wasn't thinking of anything at all, as deep into a coma as she had him. At least Matsumara couldn't complain about the kid's level of consciousness now.

Still, she was glad when the MRI was finally over so she could get the boy back to his room, back on his bed, and properly hooked up to an EEG where she could monitor his brain's burst suppression pattern. It was comforting to have visual evidence that the boy's sedation level was right where it was supposed to be.

After monitoring the EEG for several minutes, she grabbed her purse and dry swallowed a couple of aspirin for the headache she had developed sitting next to the MRI machine. A trip to the cafeteria staved off starvation, and when she returned to the room, she watched the EEG again until she was satisfied that nothing had changed for the worse, then settled into the visitor's chair and went back to reading her book.

About an hour or so later, Isao came into the room wheeling a tray with the tools for the lumbar puncture procedure. She couldn't help but notice that he looked a lot less angry and a lot more thoughtful than when she had left him in the MRI room.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind," she said, getting to her feet. She went to one of the supply cupboards and started to prepare a topical anesthetic needle. "Did you decide that the dead mercenary wasn't worth worrying about?"

He glanced at her, but he seemed distracted. "Hm? Yes... well, no... I mean, yes, that's definitely a bad business with the mercenary. I was just..."

"... thinking about something else completely?" she asked, a little amused. Isao usually wasn't one to act like the absent-minded professor.

His gaze cleared a bit. "Sorry. I was just looking at the MRI." He looked over at the boy. "I only gave it a cursory look-over... I plan to examine it in detail after I get the spinal fluid sample, but..." He shook his head. "His brain has fully mature blood-brain barriers. It's remarkable. I really need to verify this, but his brain... his entire nervous system looks like it could belong to a mature adult, and yet his skin, his heart and lungs... possibly all his other systems have regressed to childhood."

"Well," said Hana, "you read his file. He certainly seems to have retained his adult memories and cognitive abilities. And all you have to do is look at him to see what happened to the rest of him."

"Yes, well, it's one thing to read a file, it's quite another to see the anatomical evidence."

The expression on Isao's face as he looked at the small child lying on the bed reminded Hana, uncomfortably, of a friend she once had years ago who loved taking apart machines to see how they worked.

Suddenly anxious to get this particular task over with, Hana went to the boy's bed and carefully turned him onto his right side, then folded his legs against his chest so that his back curved and the bones in his lower spine separated. Then she pulled back the hospital gown so that his back was exposed.

Isao, taking her cue, examined the boy's spine briefly before marking a spot between the L4 and L5 vertebrae with a pen. When he stepped back, Hana moved in and cleaned the boy's entire back with bedatine solution. As soon as it was dry, she injected her prepared needle of one percent solution lidocaine anesthetic through the skin and into the subcutaneous tissue to numb the area.

With that done, she moved around to the other side of the bed, reached out and held the boy in his curled-up position so that Isao could insert the 20 gauge spinal needle and start to collect the spinal fluid.

As the needle slid into his spine, Hana felt the boy's muscles tense, and she tightened her grip, holding him still. He made a small noise; a soft moan, deep in his throat around the respirator, and Hana swallowed against the sudden urge to talk to him - Hush, it's all right, it will be over soon.

"Soon" was actually a little over twenty minutes as Isao filled five vials of fluid, and Hana was relieved that, after that initial first reaction to pain, the boy stayed silent and unmoving for the rest of the procedure.

"That's it," Isao finally announced, and Hana released the boy, moving back to the other side of the bed as Isao removed the spinal needle. He didn't stay to chat, taking his samples, leaving Hana to clean and bandage the needle site.

With that done, she once again closed the hospital gown and gently rolled the boy onto his back.

His eyes were open slightly. But, unlike before, there was nothing alert or aware in his heavy gaze. She quickly reached out and brushed his eyelids closed for the fourth time that day.

"You might have a bit of a headache after that," she said, and looked over at the EEG.

A flat line. Then a sharp burst of brain activity. Line. Another burst, disrupting the line into peaks and valleys... Line...

"Tomorrow will be worse," she said, not really knowing if she was talking to the boy or to herself. "I'll do what I can so that it's not so bad... but I can't make any promises."

She sank down into the visitor's chair, feeling old and achy. The clock on the wall informed her that the late afternoon was creeping into evening. Was the day almost gone already?

She tried reading her book, but after looking at the same paragraph for several minutes without seeing it, she gave up.

Night found her lost in thought, staring at the boy, watching the rise and fall of his chest in time with the hiss-gasp of the respirator.


Shinichi wasn't sure exactly when he realized that the other bodies in the morgue belonged to pretty much everyone he cared about.

He first noticed the fall of long, dark hair spilling out from under a thin white sheet. Then he recognized her profile, the sheet clinging to the contours of her face, and he wanted to scream her name, but though he mouthed the word, nothing came out, and his throat burned.

Because he was dreaming. Just dreaming. It wasn't real.

So he tried to walk away. Then he saw the four small bodies lined up next to each other on separate tables and he recognized the distinctive shapes of Haibara, Ayumi, Mitsuhiko and Genta.

And the only splash of color in the cold, sterile white of the room was where Agasa's sheet was stained with red, wet blood.

And there was Hattori. On a table next to him, Kazuha. There were Ran's parents. There were his own parents. Takagi-keiji, Sato-keiji and the other police. Kobayashi-sensei and the children from his first grade class. All lying dead on cold tables beneath white sheets.

And he knew he was dreaming. He knew because one moment he would be wandering through the rows of bodies, recognizing them one by one, and the next, he was sitting curled against the wall looking into the dead face of his adult body again.

And he would stand and try to go and cover the face with the sheet he had pulled back, but somehow, in the few meters that separated him from his corpse, he would get lost on the way and end up wandering through the row and rows of tables again.

And sometimes there were doors in the room. But they were always closed, and if he got too close, he was overwhelmed by the sense that something terrible was waiting behind them.

And sometimes there were windows, and there was always a dark, faceless figure on the other side watching him, and fear would claw its way up his throat leaving searing pain in its wake.

And sometimes there were voices, distorted and tinny, as if they were being piped into the room through an old, faulty PA system.

And sometimes he forgot that he was dreaming.

He would forget, and then it was all real, and everyone he loved was dead, and he was trapped and lost and unable to escape no matter which way he went. Until finally he would turn a corner, and there was his corpse with the sheet pulled down, and he would once again find himself sitting curled up against the wall in a corner of the room, looking at his body... and he would remember again. He was dreaming. Only dreaming.

And he would be afraid because he had forgotten. How could he forget? And he would promise himself that he wouldn't forget, and then things would get foggy and strange, and a single moment of time would stretch and bend and he would be wandering and it would start all over again.

But then, while he was wandering... something new.

A door. Open. Through it, impenetrable darkness. And a terrible noise. Growling, rumbling, screeching... and he was pulled unwillingly through the door into the darkness and noise, and he pressed his hands against his ears but nothing blocked it out and his head ached and it lasted forever...

And then he was in the morgue again. And as he stood amidst the endless rows of corpses, he couldn't move, and suddenly he knew without looking that Gin was standing behind him, towering over him. And even with his back turned he saw the sadistic grin on Gin's face, the cold light in his eyes, and then Gin slipped a knife into his back.

To his surprise, the pain wasn't sharp, but rather a dull, deep ache near the base of his spine. And then Gin was gone, and he was alone with the dead, with the knife still embedded in his back.

And he was lying on his side on the floor, curled up, the ache in his spine radiating icy cold. And for a moment, he felt warm hands on him, and saw a face that he almost recognized, but left him feeling dread. And the hands rolled him onto his back, and he realized he was laying on one of the morgue tables, a white sheet pulled up to his chin.

And a distant, tinny voice crackled over the PA system: You might have a bit of a headache after that...

And the voice was right. His head throbbed, and his spine ached, and he wanted nothing more than to climb down from the table and escape this place, but he couldn't move.

And then he remembered that he was dreaming.

It didn't make him feel any better.


Jodie knew that going anywhere near Professor Agasa's house while the police were still there was a very bad idea. Instead, she had James drive her to the street where Conan-kun and Mouri-san lived, parking far away enough to observe the detective agency without being seen.

When Jodie was certain that there wasn't a police presence around, she left James in the car and walked over to the agency. She knocked on both the agency and apartment doors, but no one answered. Not really a surprise. She suspected that Mouri-san and her father were with the police helping with the investigation - only to be expected under the circumstances. But they were also her best chance of finding where Ai-chan was staying at the moment. The girl needed to be warned about the latest Black Org activity. And if, in the process, Jodie was able to glean some information about the investigation into Conan-kun's kidnapping, all the better.

So... she decided that she and James would stake out the agency and wait for Mouri-san to come home.

Jodie stopped in the Poirot Café on the way back to the car and ordered a couple of coffees... and couldn't help but notice a woman sitting in one of the booths. She was plump, dark-haired, nicely dressed, and was carefully dabbing at her red, wet eyes with a white handkerchief.

Jodie eyed her with concern. The poor woman was obviously very distressed over something. Once Jodie received and paid for her coffees, she couldn't help but stop at the woman's booth.

"Excuse me," she said, feeling very much the nosy American, but she couldn't bring herself to just walk away without trying to help. "Are you alright?"

The woman looked up at her, surprised. "Oh," she said, tearful and flustered. "No. Well... no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you... I'm trying not to make a fuss and I'm not doing a very good job, I suppose."

Jodie smiled. "You didn't disturb me," she said. "You just seem like you could use help. I'm sorry, let me introduce myself. I'm Jodie Starling."

The woman nodded, offering a hesitant, watery smile. "Edogawa Fumiyo," she said. "Pleased to meet you."

Jodie stared. "Edogawa?" she said, almost choking on the word. "As in... Edogawa Conan?"

The woman somehow managed to look miserable and embarrassed at the same time. "He... is my son," she managed.

Jodie shook her head, completely stunned. "I'm sorry," she said. "I... I know him." That seemed completely inadequate to describe the strange friendship and working relationship she had with Conan-kun, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. Hey, before he was kidnapped, your seven-year-old son was working with me to take down a murderous criminal organization. Hope you don't mind.

Edogawa-san looked up at her, understanding flashing across her face. "Oh," she said, "are you Jodie-sensei?"

"Yes," Jodie said with relief. If Conan-kun had told his mother about her, then perhaps she didn't need to try to explain. "Yes, I'm Jodie-sensei. Though I'm not a high school English teacher at the moment."

"Please," said Edogawa-san, gesturing to the seat across from her. "Sit down." Jodie gratefully complied, setting the coffees down on the table. "Conan has told me a lot about you," Edogawa-san said, then lowered her voice to a near-whisper. "Are you still with the FBI?"

Jodie blinked in shock. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her that Conan-kun would tell his mother about his... extra-curricular activities. Especially since he seemed so determined to keep them hidden from Mouri-san. "Er... yes," she said.

Edogawa-san leaned forward, her eyes anxious. "Please... can you help find him?"

And, as Edogawa-san leaned forward, Jodie saw something that made her skin go cold.

There, at the corner of the woman's left eye, where tears had left faint tracks of mascara, there was a tiny, peeling corner of latex.

Several things then happened at once.

Jodie reached inside her jacket and drew her pistol, pointing it right in the woman's shocked face.

The bell over the café door jingled as it opened.

Snarling, gun never wavering, Jodie reached over with one hand and grabbed the woman's cheek, felt the stretch and give of a latex mask, and pulled.

Behind her, she inexplicably heard Mouri-san's voice yell, "Jodie-sensei, don't...!"

The mask tore free... and a woman - who quite definitely was not Vermouth - fell heavily back into her seat, her eyes wide, her hands raised in submission.

Jodie blinked. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded incredulously.

And then Mouri-san was there, and Ai-chan next to her. Behind them, the dark-skinned Osakan detective, and another boy she didn't recognize but who looked vaguely familiar.

"Kudo-san," Mouri-san was saying, "are you okay?"

"Kudo-san?" Jodie echoed. Hesitantly, still glaring with suspicion, she pointed her gun at the floor.

The woman got shakily to her feet, a small, almost sheepish smile on her face.

"Calm down, everyone," she said. "I can explain everything."


A/N: Next time! Yukiko explains everything. Several detectives and a thief are exceptionally clever. Shinichi has a really bad day. And at some point, Heiji takes a nap.

Please excuse the lack of proof-reading. I wanted to get this out as soon as possible for those of you who have been waiting so long.

Please review? :)