Pursuance: Part 2 – Another Fine Mystery: In which Franky howls and Heiji hunts
A Detective Conan/Chounouryoku Tantei Heiji Heiji Fanfic (Psychic Detective Heiji)
By
Deborah J. Brown

Acknowledgements:
All usual disclaimers regarding ownership of Detective Conan and related characters apply. This stuff is copyrighted to Aoyama Gosho.

Much thanks to Icka M. Chif for her beta-read. And apologies for not putting this in last time I posted. *sigh*

HEIJI:
I walked briskly through the halls of the ship, following Franky as quickly as I dared without actually running. Damnit, mutt, I wish you'd find a less painful way of getting my attention! His howl would have broken my eardrums if it had been a real sound. As it was, my inner thoughts were still ringing. How something without a head can manage to make so much noise is beyond me.

Franky stopped at a doorway and waited for me. He didn't need to, of course, being able to walk through walls, but either he'd learned to take my human body into account or, as a creation of my mind, he was responding to my needs. I pulled it open and continued down the long passage that led to the recreation rooms.

My 'ghostly' companion whined at me to hurry and I nodded at him. I'm going as fast as I can, pup. I was starting to run now. Franky only got this upset when someone was about to die. I'd learned the hard way not to waste a minute in following him, no matter how inconvenient it might be. Maybe I couldn't have saved that old man from being hit by a car, but waiting to put on my pants had ensured I wasn't there in time. Capturing the hit-and-run driver had been a cold comfort.

Another of Franky's howls sent me hurtling down the hallway past a young man about my age in a white uniform, one of the crew rather than the serving staff, though I had to wonder at his blonde dyed hair. There was something familiar about him, but I ignored that thought for the moment, rushing past him. I heard him follow, calling for me to wait.

I skidded to a halt at a doorway as he caught up. "Sir Please, you shouldn't" He put an arm up hurriedly to stop me from stepping in and I felt him jerk as he got a nice little shock courtesy of the Professor's devices. I ignored him, staring into the weight room at an all too familiar scene.

Within the room was the woman from the show earlier, hanging from one of the pieces of equipment like some bizarre puppet. Some rope went around her neck, then up to the bar and I noted another bit of rope around her waist. It was mostly hidden by her blouse, but a part of it hung loose enough to be seen. Her face was a peculiar shade of purple, and her hands were clutching at the noose. Lying on the floor below her was a piece of cord that looked like it had been used to pull a block of wood free from the weights behind her. I scanned the scene hurriedly, thoughts moving rapidly. "Get out of my way," I growled at the crewman.

He grabbed me. "No wait"

Pushing past him, I rushed to the setup. "Sir wait this is part of the"

"The show, yeah, but something's wrong," I told him as I grabbed the girl around the waist and held her up. She was a dead weight in my arms and I could only hope that the description wasn't accurate. She was just struggling, I thought. She has to be alive.

The young man hurried towards me, still protesting and I shook my head at him. "The harness is broken, see?" I pointed at the bit of rope sticking out. I'd heard of setups like this, a faked up noose attached around the neck, while the main rope was really wrapped around her waist and shoulders, holding the fake victim's weight. "This rope would be pulled tight if everything was okay," I added, indicating the loop around her waist.

The young man's jaw dropped. "I don't understand How?"

"Never mind that. Get me something sharp so I can cut her down. That knot's too tight." She wasn't nearly as pudgy as her costume made her look, but she was no lightweight either. As a thin keening moan issued from the victim's throat, I added, "Then find the ship's doctor. Come on, man! MOVE IT!"

Turning, the crewman nearly ran into Kazuha and Shiratori. "Heiji!" "Hattori-kun!"

Before they could start demanding explanations I interrupted. "Better yet. Shiratori, ship's doctor, now! Don't let him dawdle, this is a real emergency! You, whatever your name is, help me hold her up. Kazuha, get a knife. FAST!"

If there's anything I most appreciate about Kazuha it's the fact that she knows when to listen to me. As Shiratori spun around and raced one way she ran the other, towards the kitchens.

***

KAZUHA:
I raced back to the weight room, knife in hand, wrapped in a towel. The cook hadn't been too agreeable about the whole matter, but I'd managed to argue it out of him. Inside the weight room, Heiji and the young crewman were still holding the woman up. I hope he's right about this. He's going to look no end of a fool if this turns out to be part of the show and he's panicking for nothing.

For what little it was worth, though, I thought he was right. The color on the girl's face had gotten better in the few minutes it'd taken for me to get a knife, and no make-up job could have achieved that effect. "Got one," I told Heiji and he nodded gruffly at me. He didn't have to tell me to start cutting.

A minute or so later I'd sliced through the cord. Heiji and the crewman gently lowered the victim down as she started to cough. Glancing at Heiji's face, I saw his expression, saw the intense relief he obviously felt at the girl's survival. Then, as he noted me watching him, his usual cocky smile returned. "Well, that was fun," he muttered. "Help me get the noose off."

I knelt beside the girl and, at Heiji's direction, slid the blade under the rope and cut it free while he held it away from her neck. "What happened?" I asked, once that was done.

"The illusion went wrong," Heiji answered grimly. "Something must have happened to her harness. This guy," he gestured at the crewman, "is part of"

"No.. I never I just"

"No, you idiot. I don't mean you killed her. I mean you're part of the show, right? Or at least you were supposed to be helping out." Heiji started sliding the woman's jacket off while she stirred fitfully. "It was your job run into the dining hall to announce her death by apparent suicide, right?"

Suddenly I understood the setup, if not why it had gone wrong. "So she's supposed to kill herself rather than be accused of stealing the old man's briefcase, right?"

"Or one of the others kill her and make it look like suicide," Heiji added. "Did the rest of the cast stay at their seats, Kazuha?"

I shook my head. "They left around the same time you did."

"It'd be tight," Heiji mused, "But then this is a fictional plot. Perhaps the writer didn't take time into account as well. How long before you were supposed to run screaming for help?"

"Another fifteen minutes," the young man admitted. "Akemi wanted time to get into character."

I looked at him, probably a bit strangely, and wondered exactly how one got in character to play a corpse? He flushed, adding, "She has a tendency to break into giggles. So she has to play dead for a bit before she's ready to perform in front of an audience."

"That would – just about – cover the time problem," Heiji said as he slid the ropes around Akemi-san's shoulders free, just as Superintendent Shiratori stepped in and gestured at the situation for an skinny older man in the ship's uniform, balding, with sparse reddish brown hair shaved close to his skull. He moved stiffly and his left hand was replaced by a prosthesis. I forced my eyes not to stare at the device. It was plastic and metal, with a pair of metal 'fingers' that must have allowed him to pick things up.

"As you see," Shiratori-san said quietly, "I think you will find there is reason to call you, after all."

The ship's doctor hurried forward while Heiji sat back, picking up the harness and carrying it over to clear area. I followed him and Shiratori-san joined us. "You may have saved that young lady's life," Shiratori-san said quietly. "Congratulations."

"Never mind that. Look at this." Heiji pointed at the harness, obviously expecting me to see something.

I shook my head. I could barely figure out how it was supposed to work, much less what had gone wrong and I said as much, adding, "About the only thing I can see is that it's a 32 strand braid." I'd taken a kumihino class recently and the pattern was one I recognized as one of the most common, making the braid look like twisted strands of rope instead of intertwined.

Heiji sighed at my stupidity and continued, "This large loop goes around the waist and these 2 smaller loops around the shoulders. The rope connected to the weights is actually part of the loop going around the waist, and it's knotted around the rope connecting the two shoulder straps."

I was about object that it wasn't anything of the sort when the Superintendent nodded. "Or rather, it was supposed to be, right?" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a digital camera. "I believe it might be a good idea to take photos of the evidence, then. Just in case this is something more than an accident."

Heiji smiled, that tight angry smile he gets when he thinks someone's trying to get away with murder. "After that, a third loop, the so-called noose, goes around the neck." He pointed to the loop in question, adjusting its position so that the place I'd cut met and Shiratori-san snapped a few shots. "It's connected to the main rope, but it wouldn't be pulled on if everything was okay. But as you'd noted, Superintendent, what ought to have been a knot is actually simply a loop and the victim's entire weight was being put on the main rope. Now, she's not incredibly heavy, but this segment has been frayed somehow and within a few minutes of her getting into the set up it must have snapped, leaving only the loop around the neck to keep her from falling."

The explanation puzzled me a bit and I leaned forward to look at where the noose was attached to the main rope. I would have thought Akemi's weight would have been enough to pull the noose off of the rope. "Oh, I see," I said, touching the slip knot where the noose was connected. Below it on the main rope was another knot that would keep the noose from sliding off. More, there was a second slip knot that helped form the loop that had gone around Akemi's neck. If nothing pulled on it, that knot would have stayed where it was, but when the main rope had broken, the loop had been pulled tight. "What a horrible thing. Do you think it was an accident?"

"Accident or murder, it isn't your business." The voice was Uncle Heizo's and he was glowering at Heiji from the doorway with a sour expression. "I should have known I'd find you in the thick of things, boy."

***

HEIJI:
I looked up. "Dad," I said coolly. This was one of our biggest disagreements. Dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps, and that meant not making a scene by interfering in what he considered exclusive police business. Behind him, Mom was watching us with that expression she gets when she's trying not to say something, her old friend beside her with an odd look on her face. I ignored that in favor of asking, "Would you prefer I'd left her hanging?"

A sour look crossed Dad's face and he seemed about to snap at me. Before he could, Shiratori spoke up. "Sir, he did save the girl's life."

"It isn't that that I object to, young man," Dad grumbled, stepping into the room. "He's interfering with evidence. Right here and now." He pointed at the rope. "What if he's destroyed something important, just by his fiddling?"

"Nylon rope doesn't hold useable fingerprints, Dad, and you know it. We didn't cut any of the knots and all I did was show the Superintendent how the setup was supposed to work and how it failed." I brushed my knees off as I stood up. "Are you going to take the case and toss me out on my ear? You're senior here, after all."

Dad shot me an odd look, but shook his head. "I have every confidence that Superintendent Shiratori can handle matters." He bowed in Shiratori's direction and the Tokyo officer's expression was torn between gratification and worry. "Shiratori-kun, I would suggest you send my fool of a son out at the earliest opportunity. He'll only be underfoot every step of the way, otherwise."

"Now dear, remember that this is a vacation. Why don't we leave our boy and Kazuha to their fun and find something to do elsewhere," Mom scolded softly. I had a feeling Dad was in for another of her patented lectures once she got rid of Shiratori's mother. Family rules were that they never argued in public, nor in front of me, but if she really thought I didn't know what was going on, she was stupider than I thought she could possibly be. Still, for Mom, appearances were everything.

Dad's lips compressed and I might have felt sorry for him, if he didn't add, "And if you do let him in on this case – such as it is – make sure he doesn't fall overboard or something."

As Dad was led away by my Mom's hand tight around his wrist, I glared after him. Gee, thanks, Dad. Just had to get that dig in. One time I fall overboard and he has never let me live it down. I hated being reminded of the incident. There's only one moment in my life more terrifying than the fear of those great propellers chopping me to pieces, and the realization that if no one showed up they might as well have. No, that was the moment when I was certain Kazuha was going to die because of my stupidity. I rubbed surreptitiously at the tiny scar on my hand.

Shiratori glanced at me, forcing me to push aside those thoughts. "Er"

"He won't be mad if you let me in on it. Dad just likes to be difficult," I told the Superintendent. "But I'll understand if you'd rather not."

Shaking his head, Shiratori answered, "No. I remember you did an exemplary job with that one case in Tokyo. Besides, at the moment it isn't clear if this is murder or an accident." Glancing at where the doctor was checking the victim's breathing, he added, "Rather, attempted murder or accident."

"It's difficult to be sure," I agreed. Beside me, Franky panted happily – his pleasure at our saving the girl so palpable I would have expected everyone in the room to feel it. "The rope could simply have frayed. Though a fray would surely be obvious." My instincts were screaming murder, but there wasn't nearly enough evidence. I started to look around, examining the weights, while the Superintendent began questioning the crewman and the doctor had some men carry the victim to the medical bay.

I listened to the stammering explanation of what was supposed to happen while I knelt beside the weight machine. The young man's part wasn't a large one. His only duty was to play the part of a crewman and announce the 'death'. The rest of the plot was secret, even from him. I wonder if there's anything in her room. It'd help to know what's supposed to be part of the story.

Kazuha squatted beside me, looking a bit bored. "You wanna go with mom and dad?" I asked her and she shook her head. "Okay, whatever. Suit yourself."

Picking up the piece of wood that had supposedly propped the weights for the so-called suicide attempt, I shook my head. It was going to be interesting, working out which clues belonged to the real case and which to the imaginary. Certainly if this whole thing had been real I would have been certain it was an attempted murder. She weighs about 150 lbs. The weights are about 400 lbs. If she'd really tried to commit suicide by this method the speed with which the weights fell would have snapped her neck, not left her slowly strangling.

"Have you found anything?" Kazuha asked.

***

KAZUHA:
Heiji blinked at me, eyebrows raised and expression a bit startled. I repeated the question, adding, "Well, Mr. Great Detective of the West? Why don't you wow me with your deductions?" I glanced over at Superintendent Shiratori, who was still busily questioning the crewman. It was certain he wasn't going to be paying Heiji much mind for a bit. I might have liked the Superintendent better now, despite first impressions, but I had my doubts about his willingness to listen to a seventeen year old boy. And Heiji likes to have someone to play off of. We're not in Osaka, where the police know him – and Shinichi Junior's not around to bounce ideas off of.

After a moment, Heiji pointed to the tip of the wood in his hand. "This wasn't used the way it apparently had been. The amount of weight required to hang a woman Akemi's size would be enough to press onto the ends. There's no mark of such pressure."

I squatted beside him. "Well, wouldn't it be stupid of her to use that kind of trick anyway? I mean, for the sake of the show she had to make it look good, but she certainly didn't have to go through the full set of motions."

Heiji's brows pulled together in a frown. "I didn't say she had to, you fool," he told me in an aggravated tone. "If you don't want to know what I'm doing, don't ask!"

Way to go, Kazuha. He's already on edge over his father's comments. There were times when I sort of wished taping my mouth shut was a reasonable option. "I'm sorry," I said, penitently. "I didn't mean it that way."

Now Heiji really looked startled and a bit non-plussed, as if he wasn't sure he was pleased I'd capitulated. Still, he continued, "The point is, if she was really committing suicide this method wouldn't require a stool or anything to stand on. On the other hand, since she couldn't have used this method for setting up the trick, she'd have to have one. So where is it?"

I looked around the room. There were stools, all right, but none of them were anywhere near and all were standing upright. "Maybe whomever was assisting her in setting up moved it back once she was up?"

"Which begs the question, who was assisting her?" Heiji glanced over at Shiratori-san, who nodded, overhearing our conversation. "This guy?" Heiji pointed at the crewman the Superintendent was questioning.

Again Shiratori-san nodded. "Mr. Toshini is Miss Akemi's assistant," he confirmed, "And her younger brother."

"I I swear everything was right" the young man interrupted, protesting, and I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him.

Heiji picked up the rope, examining it more closely. "Did you check the harness?" he asked quietly, eyeing Mr. Toshini.

Shaking his head, Mr. Toshini gasped, "No. Akemi wouldn't let anyone handle her ropes but herself. They were stored in her room in the ship's quarters and she was the only one with a key."

The ship's doctor coughed. "Er Well, that's not entirely true, young man. Your sister's room could have been gotten into with the master key." He finished putting his instruments away and stood up, brushing his knees off with his good hand. "Though the Captain usually keeps those locked up in his quarters. It's far more likely the harness just failed." He sounded like a man trying to convince himself, as much as everyone else.

"Really?" Heiji murmured, looking closely at where the rope had broken. He held it out to the Superintendent. "Ya think?"

I looked at the rope. "I don't see anything" I started to say, then a faint acrid odor – like melted plastic – reached my nostrils. I looked closer. The outside of the rope was frayed as you'd expect if the rope had just broken, but inside a number of the nylon strands looked almost "Melted."

***

HEIJI:
I looked around Dr. Makashino's office curiously, while its owner finished tucking Miss Toshini in. "It's going to be a bit before she's ready to talk," Dr. Makashino said finally. "I'm sorry, Superintendent, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"No, I quite understand. However" Shiratori glanced worriedly at the bed where the girl lay, a towel folded on her forehead. The marks around her throat were beginning to fade, but they still looked raw and angry. "If someone tried to kill her then they may try again. Is there someone who could stay with her?"

"I could," Kazuha piped up and I bit back a protest. I didn't know why, but I didn't like the idea. Don't be silly, I told myself. Kazuha's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Turning away, I glanced at the doctor's desk, noting a dismantled old radio sitting on it, with various repair tools, as well as a handsome portrait of a young woman done in sepia tone on a wood panel.

"My hobby, if you have to know," Dr. Makashino said, following my gaze. He gave me a sour smile. "It can get a bit boring in here, so I fiddle with fixing electronics." He glanced sourly at his prosthetic hand. "It takes a bit of doing, but I like to challenge myself. Like that coffee maker over there," he gestured to the corner of the room, where an old Mr. Coffee unit sat, the beaker half full.

I nodded, not mentioning that it hadn't been just the radio I'd noticed, but the equipment he'd been using for the repair, namely the soldering iron. I fingered the handle, feeling the heat. But that's meaningless, I thought. He could have been using it recently for its intended purpose. I put the information into its mental slot and asked, "Nice portrait. Who's the young lady?"

"My late wife," the Doctor answered, no smile in his eyes and in a tone that forbade sympathy. "The Captain's gift to me on our fifth anniversary. His own work."

"It's neat," Kazuha said, looking over my shoulder. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"A Western craft. Wood-burning, I believe it's called. He's very good, isn't he?" There was an odd, cold, note in his tone. The phone rang then and he picked it up. "Yes?" After a second he glared and slammed the thing down.

"Problem?"

"It's been acting up. All the official phones have been. Answer and the only thing you hear is something like an engine running. Sometimes a voice." The Doctor shrugged it away. "Never mind. If you don't need me for anything else, I'm going to bed. It's been a long night."

I nodded and took Kazuha by the elbow, "Come over here," I told her. "Gotta talk to you."

Kazuha blinked at me. "What is it?" she asked as she followed me to a quiet corner while Makashino gathered some things together.

"I'm not too sure about your staying with the girl. If you insist on it, though, I want you to be careful." A strange look crossed Kazuha's face and I continued. "If this is a murder then whomever wanted her dead may not hesitate to stop with her." I looked into Kazuha's eyes, willing her to understand what I was saying. I was torn. I couldn't let her be hurt, but at the same time I couldn't deny her the right to take her own risks. "You don't know who to trust. You'll be alone"

"Actually," the Superintendent said quietly, as he put the phone down that he'd used to call someone, "My mother has offered to stay with the young lady as well. She'll be here in a few minutes."

I must have looked startled, because Shiratori continued, "Mother may not look it, but she's a former kendo champion. That's how she knew your mother, in fact."

"" was all I could say. Mom had told me the name of her kendo teacher, but I hadn't linked Amano Miki with Shiratori Amiko.

Kazuha hesitated. "It's nice of her, but I hate to put her to such bother. I'm sure I can take care of things."

"Idiot," I growled at her. "Take help when it's offered, you silly girl."

"Like you do?" Kazuha began to launch into one of her favorite attacks – namely my tendency to get myself into trouble – but was interrupted by the door slamming open and a man in a gold braid infested uniform stomping in. A thick mustache covered most of his upper lip, drooping down over the lower and he had the look of a man careful with his appearance, though I did note a small black speck – like some ash or the like – on his pants leg as he stalked in and glared around at us. Captain Yamamori, and not happy. Not happy at all.

"Just what in the nine hells is going on here?"

***

KAZUHA:
While I shook Heiji's hand off my arm, Dr. Makashino took the Captain aside and spoke quietly and urgently to him. "This gentleman is Superintendent Shiratori," he said, glancing in Shiratori-san's direction. "Akemi-san was injured in an accident Captain. The young man here rescued her. The girl is his young lady."

I think both Heiji and I got identical looks of consternation on our faces. We certainly started stammering protests at the same time. Fortunately for our dignity, however, the Captain was too busy getting upset about the accident to pay us any attention.

"What do you mean an accident? I thought you told me the set up was fool-proof?" The Captain's anger was turning his face an intriguing shade of red. "Damn it, I told you, I want no more trouble aboard this ship!"

"Sir? What do you mean, more trouble?" Shiratori-san asked quietly, stepping up to the others.

The Captain glared at him, then noted the wallet the Superintendent was holding out with his identification. "Oh. Police," he said in a grudging tone. "You people caused me enough headaches last time." He shoved some things out of the way on the doctor's desk and perched on it as he continued, "About 13 years ago we lost a crewman overboard. One of the passengers was a policeman who spent the rest of the voyage trying to find evidence that the man was murdered."

Heiji had an odd look on his face and he swallowed, hard. "Overboard?" he repeated. I wondered if he was remembering the time he'd been the one in that position.

A sharp look followed Heiji's question. "You are?"

"Hattori Heiji," Heiji answered, straightening in that way he gets when he's in a temper. "Sir."

The Captain frowned. "Hattori Heiji. You're that 'Great Detective of the West', right?"

"Yes, sir!" Heiji answered and I groaned inwardly. Captain Yamamori was definitely off on the wrong foot with him.

The Captain's next words ensured that Heiji wasn't going to like him. "Well, Hattori-chan. This is an adult matter. You may get to run around poking your nose where it doesn't belong elsewhere, but you have no position of authority aboard this ship"

The Superintendent coughed. "Actually, I asked Hattori-kun to assist me," he said quietly. "And his father, Chief Inspector Hattori, has agreed that I may follow my judgment on the matter."

I had to admire the way Shiratori-san weaseled his way around the fact that Uncle Heizo wasn't keen on his son's involvement with murder cases. Heiji had a peculiarly innocent look on his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and cocked his head at the Captain with an expectant look.

With a sigh, the Captain threw up his hands. "Very well. I can see I'm not going to be in control here." He gave me a quick sharp look. "What about the girl? Is she going to help solve this so-called case as well?"

Shiratori-san shook his head. "The young lady and my Mother have offered to sit with Akemi-san until she's recovered. Just in case she has information. And, of course, you'll be posting a guard at the door and the Doctor will be here."

Captain Yamamori frowned. "I will, eh? I suppose it's reasonable enough." He headed for the door. "Just keep things quiet. I won't have my passengers disturbed without good cause."

***

HEIJI:
"The first thing I'd like to do is to look at Akemi-san's room," I noted to the Superintendent. "If that's all right with you?" I was deliberately being on my best behavior. Shiratori had worked with me all of once and I didn't have the reputation with him that I did with my father's men. Nor the fact that I am my father's son. I'd be fooling myself if I believed that my first few cases would have been possible if I wasn't the Chief Inspector's bright-eyed boy.

"That was what I'd intended to do anyway. I've asked Toshini-san to meet us there." Shiratori headed down a passage that was quite a bit narrower and less fancy than those I'd seen before. After a bit, we came to a series of plain metal doors where the young actor was standing and waiting for us. "Ahhh. Here we are."

"I got the key from Akemi's pocket," Toshini told us. "I waited for you before unlocking the door, though. Just in case."

Shiratori nodded, "Good," he agreed and allowed me to examine the lock. "It doesn't look forced to me."

"No obvious sign of having been picked, either," I answered. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't. And this kind of lock is easy to force open if you have the know-how."

Toshini looked at the two of us with a confused and worried look. "But who would want to hurt my sister? To kill her? We're just actors."

Shrugging, I stepped aside to let Toshini open the lock, then waited for Shiratori to precede me. As the Superintendent stepped in, looking around the room with a faint frown, I followed suit. The room was small, too small for the three of us. Toshini waited outside, watching from the doorway with an expression that I was beginning to think was perpetually worried and unhappy. It was also still strangely familiar and I tried to think where I'd seen him before. I usually notice faces, and I'd swear he wasn't up in the dining room or one of the pursers I'd seen going about their business during the few hours that we'd been on board.

Don't worry at it, Hattori. It'll come when it's ready. I turned and looked at Franky, who was sitting happily on the bed. Wish you could point at the clues, annoyance, I thought at it, but he just panted with an insufferably smug air. I suppose he had a right to be smug – he'd helped save a life after all – but it would have been nice if he were capable of being more helpful in the rest of the case. That didn't seem to be his area of expertise, however. My own personal death-detector.

"Not much here," Shiratori noted, looking over the make-up carefully stored in a case beside the basin sitting on a small dresser – the only piece of furniture aside from the bed. "Where's her suitcase?"

"Beneath the bed, sir," Toshini pointed and I knelt, lifting the blanket off the cot. A largish black suitcase lay there, partially ajar and I pulled out a handkerchief so I could nudge it out from under without adding to the evidence with my own fingerprints.

Shiratori knelt across from me. "You know," he murmured, "Unless I find proof that this was a murder attempt, I'm not going to be able to call for an investigation team."

"Meaning that the evidence may get completely wiped out before it can even be taken." I nodded. "Doesn't mean we shouldn't take care with what we have."

"True. It also means that if we find something important we'll need to store it somewhere safe until the team can get to it. And take photos, obviously." He snapped a shot of the suitcase, then nodded for me to open it.

Inside the case was a notebook and a photo album. I picked up the latter, using the handkerchief to open it and glance through the pictures. Most were new, shots of Akemi-san and her brother in various small dramas. Kitimaru and Hosakawa Garacia from a stage version of Makai Tensho The twins from White Devil Woman A scientist in a music video I flicked through the pictures, scanning them for any obvious clues, then paused at a black and white family portrait; An older man who I recognized as the 'professor' from the drama, but dressed much more casually; A middle-aged woman with a marked resemblance to Akemi-san; A young man who looked like Toshini, wearing a similar white uniform; A girl, maybe six or seven years old, plump and pretty, holding a squirming toddler in her lap. Parents and their three children, perhaps.

"The older man in your group is your father?" I asked Toshini.

"Grandfather," Toshini said. "Oh God. I should go tell them what happened."

"Not yet," Shiratori stopped him. "I'd like to talk to the whole group without their knowing what happened. Just wait until we're done in here, then we'll get the others."

I frowned at the photo, feeling a slow chill rising. "Who are these people?" I asked, quietly, pointing.

"Grandmother," Toshini indicated the older woman. "She died last year after a long illness. That's our father our Mother left us when I was born and that's Akemi and I."

I continued gazing at the picture, especially at the man Toshini had identified as his father. I knew that face and not just because he resembled his son. The main difference in their features was a ten year age difference and hair color – Toshini's father didn't dye his hair after all – and it was that last which helped me realize why Toshini looked so familiar.

His father was the ghost I'd seen on deck.

To Be Continued...

Author's Comments:

Kumihino: The braid I mention is a real one, though I've yet to learn how to do it.

The Toshini's previous parts can be found in "Samurai Reincarnation" and "Bride with White Hair".