IV.

"No way!" Emma giggled. "Besides, there was way too much blood, which always grosses me out."

"Wait a sec--I thought you liked David Blair," Kaito teased, tucking a brown curl behind Emma's ear.

"Yeah, but not when he's the bad guy! I swear, when Devil in the Dark IX comes out, I am so boycotting that thing!"

Kaito laughed. "Yeah, right. That's what you said last time. What, no more--what'd you call him?--blond, blue-eyed boy-toy?"

Emma licked her lips and smiled. "Nuh-uh. I've fallen for the Samurai warrior-type."

Kaito had just enough time to flick off the holovision, plunging the bedroom into darkness, before Emma pushed him back onto the bed and threw off her shirt.

"Know what?" Emma whispered.

"What?"

"I'm glad I said yes."

"I'm glad you said yes, too," Kaito murmured, and pulled her forward to bury his face between her breasts.

When the screaming started up again, the old man next door woke with a start, pounded on the wall, and threw his pillow over his head. Those kids and their damn horror movies.

Usually when he beat on the wall, they'd turn the volume down, but now it sounded like they'd gone and turned it up instead. He ought to go over there right now and give them hell, but no way was he going out of his apartment this late, not with that killer on the loose. Well, he'd give them what for tomorrow morning, that was for sure.

* * *

Miller woke to an empty bed.

For a moment he didn't know where he was, but the previous night came back in a rush, and he smiled. Stumbling into the kitchen, wearing nothing but his skin, he found a note:

There's eggs and toast in the keeper and coffee on the stove, and your clothes are clean. See you later, sleepyhead.

Marina

Half an hour later, he found Marina in their office, reading a file. The file. He nudged her. "Hey, early bird. Outta my chair."

She vacated it with a tired smile. When he sat down, she squeezed his shoulder and said, "About last night... Thanks."

Miller nodded his understanding and covered her hand with his. Last night hadn't been about sex--as nice as that had been--but about comfort. The tired old dog and the frightened new one, huddled up together for warmth.

Marina's hand was still on his shoulder, and he looked up. "I know," he said. "There's been another one."

* * *

"White female, age eighteen. Three stab wounds to the chest, not immediately fatal. She bled out, both internally and externally, but eventual cause of death was drowning due to blood buildup in the lungs.

"Inside the victim's mouth, instead of the expected folded note... is the cover of a matchbook from Momma Mia's restaurant.

"Bruising around the neck and shoulders indicates a possible rear stranglehold by her attacker. Rape kit is inconclusive, though unlikely--vaginal swabs found DNA matching the male victim, and vaginal micro-tearing is consistent with consensual sex.

"The victim was approximately eight weeks pregnant.

"Asian male, age twenty. Extensive bruising on the head, arms, chest, and ribs, as well as several deep cuts to the hands and arms, indicate that he fought with his killer. Fracturing of three ribs was caused by a blunt object... possibly repeated kicking. Cause of death, loss of blood due to slashing of the throat.

"Both victims had large amounts of each others' blood on their bodies due to their positioning, the male victim lying face down on top of the female."

Agnes turned off the recorder and cocked her head at Miller, who said, "Positioning? They died while having sex."

"They very well may have been surprised during sex, Clarence, but not in that position." She pointed to the grayish blue mottling Emma Otsu's neck and shoulders. "That's not some kind of choking fetish, someone grabbed her and held her from behind." Standing with her back to Miller, Agnes took his arm and wrapped it around her neck to demonstrate.

The arm trembled against her skin for a moment, then Miller exploded. "Jesus Christ, he watched his wife die on top of him!"

Agnes sighed and removed Miller's arm. "I'm afraid it's not quite that simple. She wouldn't have died first." She sighed again, shaking her head, and added, "She may very well have lived through the struggle between her husband and killer, and possibly still been alive when she was moved back to the bed, where the killer then laid her husband on top of her."

Miller shuddered and rubbed his face, and Agnes motioned to the door, saying, "Shall we take this out where your partner can add her thoughts?"

Out in the hall, Agnes caught Marina up on the information while Miller took a quick trip to the men's room.

"There was blood splatter all over the crime scene," Marina said when her partner returned, and Miller nodded.

"Blood on the floor beside the bed could have been where she was thrown off," he said. "The bedroom mirror was broken--hell, almost everything in that room was broken--"

"I'd guess that Mr. Otsu was quite the fighter," Agnes interjected.

Miller nodded again. "Yeah, he was a member of their section's shin-do league. But he couldn't keep our man off. So the killer comes in while they're doing what newlyweds do best, grabs the wife, who's on top, from behind and stabs her." He pantomimed the act, this time using Marina as a model. "Someone, either the killer or the husband, throws her off--"

"Thank you Clarence, but I can throw myself around just fine," Marina said, unwrapping Miller's arm. "And then Otsu tries to fight off the killer, but is killed himself. But--so why were the bodies positioned like that?"

A long silence was the only answer.

* * *

Miller stumbled back to his apartment in a haze. Marina had offered to buy them dinner, but he'd declined, saying he had to get a good night's sleep.

Instead, he'd made a long stop at Barney's, where a handful of beers served as dinner and two shots of tequila as dessert. He didn't want to admit it to Marina--though he suspected Agnes knew very well--but he couldn't shake the image of Kaito Otsu watching as his wife was stabbed above him.

He saw himself instead of Otsu, his Anne in the young Mrs. Otsu's place.

His apartment door opened at a touch, though he could have sworn he'd locked it that morning--no, the morning before--and there was a package lying on the floor just inside.

He bent down to open it, and recoiled with an involuntary yell. Five beers and two tequilas evaporated as his hands fumbled for the phone on his belt.

"Agnes. Agnes, wake up. I just found Tess Harper's missing hair and eyes."

He snapped the phone shut and reached with trembling fingers for the neatly folded note taped to the lid of the box.

Why haven't you found me yet?