Chapter 25: June 1st, evening

Assumption is a detective's worst and most common mistake. You assumed you knew the rules you were playing to, Bishop, and that's dangerous.

If I didn't know any better, I would say Pattern Twenty didn't exist.

I spent hours trying to find it, stumbling around in between all the different dots, blindly reaching for something that simply wasn't there. And when, by some chance, I thought a corner of my mind had grazed something, I could never latch onto it, the ghost pattern crumbling, leaving nothing in its place but scattered ghost-bricks that didn't fit with each other. When I needed a break from the Naomi case I lost myself in Pattern Twenty for hours, absently twisting my elastic in my fingers, until Bonman or Sandra took me out of my trance, mostly with a concerned remark about how long I'd been sitting there.

I almost didn't treat it as something to be solved anymore, but as a sort of exercise in which I had to split my mind in layers and bent mirrors and dimensions. But it could be solved. L knew the answer, I was sure of it. It could be solved, and that made me even more determined - asking him for it had never crossed my mind. I also found that, immediately after the mental acrobatics, the facts of the case seemed clearer to me, and I could think more distinctly about each of them.

So after three or so hours of lying face-up on my bed in the dark, considering pattern Twenty, I reluctantly pushed it away, bringing Naomi back to the forefront. Why had she been so interested in the hi-jacking incident? The way Kiichiro had died was indeed strange, but what did it have to do with Raye and Kira? Why ask about the other passengers of the bus? I was waiting impatiently for L to call, possibly to give me more information on the FBI agents. I knew all there was to know about Naomi, but no more than the general public about the agents and their assignment. Why was Raye Penber going to Spaceland that day? What did he hope to find there? L had to call. I needed instructions and information.

As if on cue, the phone vibrated in my hands and I placed it on my ear. His first words weren't a greeting, or instructions, on information, though. No, they were much more frightening: "I no longer require your assistance in this case, Bishop." It took me a couple of seconds to register the words, and then my stomach dropped into a pit.

I knew that asking why would annoy him. L was used to having his orders obeyed without question. Still, I couldn't help myself. "Why?" I choked out. Had I done something wrong? Had he decided I wasn't good enough? Was I incompetent? The thought that I had disappointed L was the single most frightening thing I'd ever felt in my life. My fingers started trembling, and I gripped the phone tighter.

"Because it is no longer necessary," he replied blandly, completely oblivious to my internal turmoil.

Something about his wording made me pause and still my hand. No longer necessary... I flipped back in my memory to all of L's cases in the past - never had he ever dropped a case. If he didn't need me anymore, then maybe... "You've caught him?" I asked in disbelief, my heart hammering against my ribs. Even in my state of shock I was careful not to mention the name Kira, and didn't raise my voice above a whisper. The chance that someone was eavesdropping on the other side of my door, however slim, still existed. I also took the precaution of flipping the cover over my head to further muffle the noise.

He chewed thoughtfully. "No. He handed himself in."

A tidal wave of relief washed over me. He didn't need me, not because I was incompetent, but because he'd already caught the culprit. I hadn't disappointed him. I was safe. My breathing evened out.

Still, the revelation was baffling. "He forfeited? That's not like him at all." Kira was childish, hated to lose, believed himself to be God. There was no way someone like that would forfeit the game.

"Yes. I think so too. I think this is part of a much grander, more elaborate strategy." There was a sound of him crushing something small, like some sort of candy, between his fingers. "Make no mistake, Bishop. The game is far from over." He remained silent for a minute, pondering his next words. "The information you gave me this morning was more helpful than you probably think. Thank you for your effort. But furthering the investigation on Naomi Misora will be a waste of time and resources, considering I'm now ninety-nine percent certain that my suspect is Kira."

So he'd really caught him! I felt like jumping up from the bed and doing a happy dance, but that wouldn't be a very good idea, considering Bonman was still downstairs in the living-room. In the small dark space under the covers, I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths. The game was far from over, L had said - I needed to pull myself together.

I thought about Mr Misora, and my excitement died down a little. Even if L had caught Kira, we still didn't know what had happened to Naomi, and I'd promised the old man I'd work with him until we did. Even if Kira admitted to having killed her, if we didn't find physical proof of it Mr Misora's absurd hope wouldn't completely die. He wouldn't accept that I was dropping the investigation. He'd demand answers I couldn't give him, and the relationship we'd built would fall like a tower made of sand.

I realized I had grown somewhat attached to Mr Misora. He'd always been completely honest to me, despite knowing that I wasn't honest with him. I owed it to him to ask, at least. "We still haven't found Naomi's corpse," I said slowly. L didn't reply. "Please, let me continue. I need to know the truth. If you've already caught him, there is no risk I'll meet him, so there should be no harm in me continuing the investigation."

He thought about it for a moment. "Why are you so interested in Naomi Misora?"

"Why are you so uninterested?" I countered quietly. "She worked under you."

Another breath of silence. "Ah. I see. You feel identified." He sounded like he was chewing something again, and swallowing. "Very well, as you've pointed out there should be no risk, and I'm also curious as to how she died. You may continue." I smiled, not believing my luck. "On your own time," he added as an afterthought.

"My own time?"

"Yes."

It took me a second to digest his words. "I don't understand."

"The Kira case isn't my only worry at the moment. Certainly, my most important worry, but not the only one." He paused. "There are other cases in which an agent like you would prove useful."

I couldn't believe my ears. Another case? "I'll be glad to help," I grinned shakily.

"Then I will contact you again soon."

He hung up, and I simply stared at the phone. The conversation had happened so fast I had trouble assimilating everything. Firstly, L had caught Kira. He really was the best in the world. He hadn't specified, so he probably had the both of them, Alpha and Beta. The deaths would stop soon. Secondly, I was allowed to keep investigating Naomi's disappearance. Mr Misora would still be able to find out the truth about his daughter. And thirdly, I would work with L again.

My grin slowly stretched all across my face. I was happier than on Christmas day when Bonman brought that huge pile of sweets. I was happier than on my birthday when he made the chocolate cake and Near arrived to my house. This was the best thing that could have ever happened to me in my whole life, and I suddenly felt the need to tell someone about it, or share it in some way. I stood up from the bed, opened my door and noisily made my way downstairs, crossing the huge doors of the living-room and sitting myself in front of Bonman without a word.

He glanced up from his book, surprised. "Jaylin? What are you doing up so late?"

I grinned hugely, got up again and went to fetch the old chess set by the Victorian shelf. It was Bonman's most precious, the pieces carved in ivory and ebony from over three centuries ago, infused with a movement and beauty that made them seem alive. Carefully, carefully I carried it in my arms and placed it on the table between us, then sat down again, my grin so wide it almost hurt my cheeks, and advanced a pawn.

Bonman looked down, frowning. He probably didn't think eleven p.m. was the best time to start a game of chess, but in the end indulged me with a sigh. In that moment I didn't care that he'd been lying to me and manipulating me for practically as long as I'd known him. I didn't care he most likely had many more plans in store for me, most of which I probably wouldn't agree with. If it weren't for him I would never gotten where I was now. He'd given me a home and an elite education, and above all the opportunity to work with the best detective in the world, and that was all that mattered.

If he was surprised by my sudden change in behavior - after all, I had been avoiding him lately - he didn't show it. He didn't hold back either, making use of all the tricks he'd ever taught me and many more he had saved for himself, strategies and moves I had never thought of on my own. He played brilliantly, better than he'd ever played before.

Still, I won.

The following afternoon found me in front of a mansion in the neighborhood, a basket dangling from my arms.

"I'm in front of the house. Do I ring?"

"Yes, go ahead."

I bounced up to the gates of the mansion, putting the phone back in my pocket. The property was very big; not as big as Bonman's, but distinctly more modern and high-tech. I could see a sleek black camera to my left following my movements as I pressed the intercom button.

"Sakano residence, hello?"

"Hello," I gave the intercom a shy smile. "I'm Jaylin, Bonman's daughter. He made biscuits and we had many to spare, so I thought I'd drop by to share."

A silence from the intercom. "One moment, please."

It was amazing how many doors Bonman's name opened - literally. I had no doubt L was counting on it. After a short while, the big, iron-spiked gates started automatically parting for me. "Please come in, we'll be delighted to have you," the intercom buzzed. I calmly strolled up the driveway, admiring the oddly-shaped statues of modern art on either side. There was one that didn't quite fit with the rest, a red telephone cabin like the ones in London posters, bent sideways as if a giant had torn it from the ground and tried to break it over his knee. I tilted my head a little, puzzled.

I passed another two security fences before getting to the actual mansion, and immediately realized that the Sakanos did indeed have strange tastes. The whole mansion was skewed, with concave and convex curves everywhere there should be a straight line. A butler in a black uniform opened the door for me. Even he seemed strange, his hair combed in irregular waves, fixed with gel. He showed me through twisted corridors to a large, round living-room, where Ms. Sakano was waiting. The living-room was like the rest of the house; polymorphous tables and furniture with the corners all in the wrong places. It was like stepping into a weird dream.

Ms Sakano, in contrast, looked completely normal, so I guessed the decoration must have been her husband's choice. "Hello, dear Jaylin," she greeted with a pleasant smile, making a gesture for me to approach. "It is very kind of you to bring biscuits."

I smiled back, trying to seem as cheerful as possible, and a little shy. "I just thought you might like them. Where should I leave them?"

"Oh, you're such a dear. There, on that table. We have an important dinner tonight, they'll be just the thing." She kept talking as I dutifully left my basket where she'd indicated. The perfectly ordinary basket looked completely out of place among the furniture, but she didn't seem to mind. "Why don't you stay to chat for a bit? It's been a while since I last saw you."

I obediently went back to sit next to her, a radiant smile still plastered on my face. She asked me about my tutors, about Sandra, and was a bit surprised when I told her we were also "friends" with Olm, proceeding to question me about the Whitebirds with a greedy expression on her face. Even among the top sphere, they were crème de la crème. Finally I left, skipping back down the driveway and away from the surrealist headache. My grin only fell off when I was out of view from the cameras.

I fished the phone out of my pocket and placed it on my ear again. "Mission complete," I deadpanned, more than slightly insulted by how easy it had been. The Sakanos were well known for their impenetrable security, and yet an eight-year-old had gotten past it with no effort and planted a microphone in the middle of the living-room in plain sight without arousing the slightest suspicion; a microphone they would they themselves carry to the dinner table when the main course was over and the discussions about highly illegal dealings began.

"That was easier than I expected," L mused. I hadn't hung up, so he'd been able to hear everything.

"How can they be so stupid?" I complained, unable to hide my disappointment. "What do they keep those cameras and alarms for if they just let any random biscuit-girl get past them?" I grimaced. "We have an important dinner tonight, they'll be just the thing? I didn't even have to try."

I could practically feel L's amused smile on the other end. "Were you expecting more of a challenge?"

"Yes!" I bit my lip, barely stopping myself from launching into another rant about the arrogance of adults.

"I admit I had too. It seems there are more advantages to working with a child than I'd thought."

Thus passed the days.

I kept going on little missions for L, like the one at the Sakano house. Sometimes he asked me to revise data he'd already gone through and tell him my conclusions, and I didn't know if it was because he valued my input or was testing me again. Sometimes he asked me to eavesdrop on people or trick them into revealing a specific piece of information. I was surprisingly good at it. Being a child, and Bonman's daughter, granted me some sort of all-proof immunity. Adults hardly ever suspected me of any malicious intent, and the rare times I was caught red-handed I always managed to pass it off as fooling around.

L didn't give me entire cases to handle on my own like Naomi's, but I was content with the missions. They let me get some much-needed practice on my real life acting skills, and failure wasn't all that serious. If someone caught me eavesdropping, for example, looking repentant and abashed normally was enough to convince them to let it go.

Occasionally, L played games with me.

"All the walls of my house face South. One day a bear passes in front of my window. What color is it?"

I chewed my hair for a moment. What did he mean, all the walls faced South? A house couldn't be built with parallel walls, or walls in a line, and how did that relate to a bear? Ah. 3D. "White. The north-south axis passes straight through the centre of your house, perpendicular to the floor and the ceiling. All the walls are parallel to that axis. If the outside of them faces South, your house is built straight on the North Pole, and the bear is white."

"Good. 591."

"159 284."

"482 591 956."

"659-"

"You can't use 659, Bishop. It's a prime number. You lost."

"But you said 956!" I protested, "and besides, this was about short-term memory, not pattern-building."

"Whoever said that it wasn't pattern-building?"

I frowned.

"Assumption is a detective's worst and most common mistake. You assumed you knew the rules you were playing to, Bishop, and that's dangerous," he observed mildly.

I rolled my eyes. L liked to win above all else. This wasn't the first time he invented rules or twisted them so he could say he'd won, and give me a lecture while he was at it. It was frustrating for me, but also amusing to watch, the completely nonsensical things he'd come up with to get what he wanted.

I thought he must be feeling terribly bored, to be playing games with me. No criminal had died of a heart attack for three days in a row, which to me was the final proof that he had, in fact, caught Kira. Both the original and the second one. I wondered if the reason he was so bored was because he no longer had the most dangerous serial murderer of the century to chase. Yes; maybe that was why he spent so much time talking to me.

"Mmmm... I'll let you win if you figure out a cool riddle," he proposed.

"Alright."

A silence.

"What's the riddle?" I asked impatiently.

"No, I've changed my mind. You lose anyway."

I kept my face blank. There were times L was downright absurd. And despite this, there were also times when I detected something familiar in the way he spoke to me, almost as if he'd done it before, with someone else. He seemed to be genuinely interested in my reactions, and I knew the games were just more disguised tests; what he was testing me for I had no idea, as I'd made it abundantly clear I wouldn't become his successor.

It didn't really matter anyway. It was fun, and though I never won I liked the illusion of matching wits with the world's best detective.

A.N.: So there you have it, early chapter as promised, with some interaction between L and Bishop. Hope you liked it. Don't know if it shows, but it was really fun to write.