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Summary: In which Aoko and Ran rejoin the group at the police station. Meanwhile, Shinichi and Kaito talk about a potential break in.
4.40 p.m
They choose to head to Shinjuku - it's a shorter distance to travel to from Chiyoda, and Kaito argues that the sooner they arrive at the safe house, the sooner they can come up with a plan that will get them inside the police station.
"We need to take out time coming up with this plan," Shinichi says, when the leave behind a convenient store, bento's and snacks in a plastic bag. "I don't want to go into this half-heartedly."
Kaito hums, looks at the ex-detective and decides that yes, it would be stupid to go into this without a plan. But he also thinks that waiting is a stupid idea.
"Tomorrow," Kaito says, "we'll head in tomorrow."
Shinichi balks, catches him by his arm and pulls him back. "You've got to be kidding me."
Kaito shakes his head. He says, "not at all. Remember what Hattori told us - the entirety of division one and two is in a state of panic right now. We use the panic as a smokescreen and sneak inside. It's not like we'll need to take the time to remember the blueprints of the station, since I already know them, and I'm pretty sure you do too."
"Panic will make the police even more suspicious. We can't just enter a police station-"
"We can." Kaito skips forward, splashes his feet into a puddle, the water soaking his socks. It's cold, and he regrets it almost immediately, but it leaves him grinning, reaffirming his freedom. He'd not had many days in the rain, had been locked inside his house…
"I'm being serious," Shinichi sighs.
"And so am I. You think the police are going to suspect two escaped convicts to walk straight inside their main headquarters a day after they've escape prison?" Kaito shakes his head, "no. They still think we're focusing on escape, not getting away. The longer we take to act, the more time they have to prepare countermeasures."
Shinichi lets out a huff. It tells Kaito that while he doesn't fully agree with the sentiment, he can admit that the plan isn't completely stupid.
"I'm not exactly comfortable with it…" He says after a pause, glancing up at Kaito. He's scratching at his neck again, his nails brushing off the makeup Kaito had used to hide his bruises. "But since we're under pressure."
Kaito grins, smiles again. "Only if the plan is fully formed. We won't go in unprepared, I promise."
Shinichi nods. "I'll trust you on this."
Tomorrow then, Kaito thinks.
The same time
"You took your time," Saguru says when Ran rejoins the group, pulling Aoko along by her hand, his voice only slightly irritated, "don't worry though, we waited for you."
Beside him, is the detective Ran assumes to be Hattori Heiji. He's dark-skinned, wearing a green hoodie that makes him look out of place amongst all of the detectives racing in and out of the department. Beside him is a girl, hair pulled back with a yellow bow, matching the yellow blouse she's wearing.
"That's good," Ran says and nods, pulling Aoko down into the spare seats on the other side of the table - they've had to move to a bigger desk, have been forced to sit by the entrance, the area busier than their previous quiet corner. "Let's get started then?"
Saguru nods, turns to Hattori and says, "Hattori, this is Mouri Ran, and behind her is Nakamori Aoko. They're helping because they've got a link to both Kudo-kun and KID respectively. Ran-san, Aoko-san, this is Hattori Heiji."
"An' that's Toyama Kazuha," Hattori says, pointing to the girl, "but don' worry, she ain't a detective, so she's not gonna get involved."
Ran raises an eyebrow, decides it's probably best not to ask why he's brought his… friend… with him to a police station while he's on a case, and pulls her chair in tighter, leaning forward over the table. She says, "you brought Shinichi's psychological files, didn't you, Hattori-kun?"
Hattori nods and points a finger towards the file in front of Saguru. He says, "huge misuse o' trust, but if it gives ya leeway on where Kudo went… There's a video file on a usb too, if tha' helps any."
Ran knows they don't have a computer with them, but she's certain that if they ask to borrow a laptop one of the detectives will guide them to a spare. It's not much, at least, but it's something they can work with. She wants to reread the files from Shinichi's isolation though, and KID's, but that'll have to wait until later.
"It helps a lot," Ran says, offering him a smile, "thank you."
Reaching a hand forward, Ran waits for Saguru to pass her some of the contents of the files for her and Aoko to read over - they're transcripts, she notices when they are passed to her, interviews given following Shinichi's arrest and the opening months of his imprisonment. She's not sure how to deal with it.
Halfway into the first page, she shakes her head, glances up and asks to see the video footage instead. She's always been good at reading Shinichi's emotions - or rather, she thinks she has, - but only ever when she's been able to see his body language. If she doesn't know how he's saying things… Well, she doesn't want to misinterpret anything that could give them a lead.
"I'll go ask if we can borrow a laptop," Saguru says, pushing up from his chair.
He's gone before anyone can properly respond, although Ran doesn't think that it's a bad thing. She turns to Aoko, notices the frown lines on her forehead and opens her mouth to ask what's wrong.
She doesn't have the chance, Aoko leans forward and asks, "When was the last time Hattori-kun saw Kudo-kun?"
Ran closes her mouth and turns to the Osakan, interlocking her hands together. She waits, holding her breath for any response that comes - any information on Shinichi that will come her way. Part of her is excited, eager at the prospect of getting more information, whereas the rest of her… The rest of her is simply nervous.
"Kudo…" Hattori stops, takes a moment to think, "th' last time I visited him was abou' nine days ago? Why?"
Aoko takes a moment, squints, before leaning back against her chair. She says, "that means out of him and Ran-chan, Hattori-kun visited most recently. What was Kudo-kun during these visits?"
Once again, Hattori pauses, raking his mind for information. After some thought, he says, "I don' think he was any differ'nt, kinda grumpy but that's Kudo for ya. He wanted to know about a case I was workin' but, I mean, tha's what we always talk abou'."
Ran wants to comment on the fact that the two had shared cases - Shinichi had never mentioned that, but hearing it now, it makes sense. Since his imprisonment, he'd not talked a word about any cases other than his own. Hindsight forces her to realise how suspicious that is. But if he'd been solving cases with Hattori, then maybe…?
It confuses her and leaves her wondering what else Shinichi had been keeping from her - apparently a lot more than she'd originally thought. And here, she'd thought the biggest secret he'd been keeping from her were the bruises around his neck.
It hurts more than it should.
"Did Shinichi ever mention KID?"
Aoko shifts at the question, readies herself for the answer - she's watching Hattori closely, she notices. And Ran isn't sure what she's seeing, but if Aoko's getting any clues or hints then she's going to try and help as much as she can with her own questions.
"A few times." Hattori admits, scratching at his ear. He leans forward, "apparently they did a lot together. Helpin' out in th' laundry room, and in th' kitchens. Spent a lot'a time together. But whenever I asked wha' KID's deal was, he wouldn' say."
"Kudo-kun was unwilling to tell Hattori-kun about Kaito?" Aoko repeats, before glancing down at the pages she'd read. "Aoko doesn't really understand what's going on - why were they placed in the same cell anyway?"
Ran freezes, and across from her, Hattori does as well. Since they'd arrived, he's been moving constantly, drumming his fingers against the table, muffled tapping against the carpet from his foot. To see him so quiet…
"I don' know. It worked out well for 'em, but it is strange tha' someone thought it was a good idea to place th' two in th' same cell." Heiji leans forward, frowns. "Kudo never mentioned it, so I didn't really think ta ask?"
Ran leans on her hand, elbow cold from the surface of the table. She thinks that if all of the officers in division two are going to overwork themselves, then it should, at least be warmer.
"Oh, another thing Aoko's curious about," Aoko says, "Hattori-kun is absent from all of the records of visitors. Kudo-kun was only ever visited by Ran-chan."
Like that, Hattori seems to recover from whatever confusion he'd had over Shinichi and KID. It's obvious that this is a question he can answer, and he seems almost thankful for the certainty.
"I'm on th' record," he says, and at the slight complaint from Aoko, he waves his fingers. "See, most o' th' visits I had weren't planned visits, so they didn't go through th' system on computer. They have a sign in book for th' more urgent visits. I didn't really know when I'd be able to get down to visit, so I used tha' instead."
"It's true," Toyama pipes up, head still buried in his phone, "th' ahou is to lazy to plan ahead."
Hattori's responding smile is wry, and he proceeds to call Toyama an idiot before settling back down and staring across at both girls. As Hakuba returns with a laptop, Hattori settles back down into what Ran can only describe as a 'detective-mode' - Shinichi had fallen into it a lot, and she's seen it on Saguru before, is able to see the shift into seriousness.
"Anything else you were thinkin' abou'? I'll tell ya what I can?"
Saguru gives him a strange look, and Ran, watching as he sits back down, looks at the laptop. Saguru says, "more questions in a while, for now, let's look at these interviews."
Seventeen months ago
Ando Tomoko glances up from her notebook as her interviewee enters the room, and smiles. She's never been one for interviewing serial killers, and during her thirty years of psychiatric practice, she's not studied more than five.
She'd been unable to turn the offer down however, when she'd been asked to delve into the mind of a teenage killer, a kid detective who'd swapped from obeying the law, to breaking it in the worst ways imaginable. The horror that had swept over her when she'd first read the article, the way she'd been frightened, almost, of a child…
Tomoko had been incapable of turning away, ignoring the interview.
And now, here she was, sat in a private room - more like a police interrogation room - waiting for the newly captured prisoner to sit down opposite her. As far as she knows, he's refused any attempts to talk until now, and while she doesn't know why the sudden change of mind, Tomoko is glad.
"Shinichi-kun," she says, as he sits down, her head tilting slightly, "I hope you don't mind if we skip the formalities?"
Kudo Shinichi leans back against his chair, mirrors her expression, and smiles.
He says, "not at all, it's how psychologist's build a rapport, right? Through the use of first names. I hope you, in turn, don't mind if I call you by your surname, Ando-san."
Tomoko doesn't mind at all. Over the years, she's had hundreds of clients to nervous to forgo tradition and skip straight to forenames, valuing the honorifics. She gets the impression, however, that it's not tradition that keeps Kudo from stating her name.
She clicks her pen, and prepares herself to write, to search for any abnormalities in his thought processes, any discrepancies in the schema he's evolved over the course of his life.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," she says, "I've been told that before now, you'd been unwilling to speak to anyone about yourself…" A pause. "About the real you."
Kudo smiles. It's crooked, his grin, but Tomoko thinks it suits him - it's almost difficult to remember that he's capable of causing such bloody crime scenes. She's looked over the details of the case, and while it's shocking to think that this sixteen year old is capable of such a gruesome scene, she knows psychopaths are usually the least obvious suspects.
He'd been sloppy though - hadn't even lasted two months before he'd been caught. The police had considered calling it a killing spree, but with the week hiatus between each killing, the control and set up… they'd labelled it serial murder instead.
"I think it's about time I talked to a psychologist," Kudo grins, self-deprecating, "i've had a lot on my mind recently."
"About the murders?"
Kudo tilts his head, and hell, such a small movement shouldn't be creepy, but it is. His gaze is vacant, like spiders crawling down her spine, weaving webs between the gaps of her spine. "Yes, I suppose."
Tomoko scrawls across paper, notes she will throw into a medical file later for other teen detectives to glance over. "What're your thoughts on the serial killings?"
Kudo glances down at his hands, picks at his nails. He seems too calm, Tomoko thinks, to be innocent like he claims. His stillness makes him appear cold, icy contempt lingering in his eyes. He's angry - she decides, and files it away for further thought.
"As far as murders go, I'd say that they were well executed. Barely a shred of evidence left behind - for a crime scene so bloody, well, it's unusual," he says, "it was interesting to watch the other detectives work at it from a different angle."
Grip tightening on her pen, Tomoko tries not to let him wind her up. The apathy she's hearing though doesn't do much to make calm her - she should have expected it, but she'd also been expecting superficial charm, fake guilt on his face as he apologises for what he's done.
Instead, he seems like he's toying with her. It's hard not to get annoyed by it.
"It was interesting to watch the detective's muse over how it happened?" She asks.
"No. It was interesting to watch their attempts to try and figure out who did it." Kudo sighs, crosses his arms over his chest and kicks his feet out on the chair.
There's no one else in the room with them, although Tomoko's been warned about the alarm button under the table, been reminded by the guards waiting outside the room incase anything goes bad.
"I see… It must have been exciting, working both sides."
"It was exhausting, actually." Kudo admits, and his expression is wary. "I had to pretend I didn't know about the cases before we set off to work on them. Working the same case in two conflicting ways is… let's say it's difficult."
Tomoko leans back against her own seat, crosses her arms over her chest and smiles. It's half-hearted, but at least it's something. She says, "would you tell me about the first murder you committed. Tell me what was going through your head."
He uncrosses his arms, and takes a moment to think. Almost as if he's weighing up what he will say next. Then, after a brief pause, Kudo grins, the expression sardonic.
"Let's see… the first person I ever killed..?" Another pause. Tomoko thinks he's doing it for dramatic effect, wonders whether he's taken after his mother, the actress. The crime scene would make sense then, she thinks, with the flashiness of it - each body suspended, each victim killed after what appeared to be days of torture. It'd explain why each victim's name had been painted in blood followed by the term 'guilty'.
"I suppose, I killed my first victim when I was five." Kudo's grin widens, borderline hysterical. Possibly even delusional. "See, I raised two fingers up to my head," he does so now, "closed my eyes," he does, "and whispered bang."
It takes him a few seconds to reopen his eyes, and during that time, Tomoko is scrambling for words. "You… But no one died. You didn't kill yourself."
Kudo nods. "Exactly. No one died."
"And yet-"
Kudo taps his fingers across his chair, his smile faltering, fading away into a blank mask. He says, "you see, Ando-san, no one died, because my mind is not criminal. It's forensic. Did I pull the trigger on their deaths? Yes. But did I kill them?"
Tomoko leans forward. "What do you mean?"
A grin - it reminds her, scarily, or fairy tales of girls who fall down rabbit holes and of cats that smile too widely.
"I think maybe I'll leave that for you to figure out."
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