Author's comments:
It took about a month for this part to materialize because I was having trouble tying loose ends together and putting all the elements from both manga together so if you find that there may be some leads I discuss here that don't seem to get anywhere in later chapters... ah well, such is the effect of being utterly scatterbrained.
Lots of thanks to those who commented on the first part:
fatalis-stille: I agree about the grammar (always been a strong point in my writing), not so much with the spelling. Heh. (spellcheck? What spellcheck?)
Lady Guena: Yeah, I saw that part in the anime and Ginji's all well now! Luck run out on Ban and Ginji...? Doesn't that always happen to them when it comes to money?

Chapter 2: Rising secrets

"Ooh, Ban-chan! Look there! There, see? You see?"

Ban did not turn his head from his view of the passing suburban scenery through the heavily tinted window. He wasn't particularly interested in looking at boring, snow-covered houses lining boring, snow-covered streets, and that was probably what Ginji was pointing at anyway. Ginji had been excited over every trivial sight he saw since they arrived in the Kansai International Airport—no, before they even got on the plane.

Merryweather Hargreaves and Oscar Gabriel were most cooperative clients, reserving them business class seats in JAL for a trivial hour-long plane ride to the Kansai airport, then arranging for them to be chauffeured in an elegant Mercedes Benz all the way up to the mansion in Nara. Ban would have preferred simply driving the 360 to Osaka and he would have done so if he hadn't seen the mounds of snow that he would have had to drive through. As it were, though, the transportation Merryweather had provided was not only sufficient but also luxurious. The minute Ban had gotten into the Benz, he'd stretched his legs and slouched back into the fine leather upholstery, chewing absently on the filter of his cigarette. The spacious back seat of the car was something he could really get used to, especially at night when he and Ginji camped out in their little car.

Their first stop was in Osaka. Merryweather had called them up before they left Tokyo to tell them that she had discovered the tickets to the piano recital Riff and Cain were supposed to have attended. It was a short drive; no one apparently wanted to be out in the frigid December morning.

Ginji shivered outside as Ban went forward to the ticket box to argue with the security personnel. Even though the short electric shower Paul had grudgingly conceded to him had refreshed him and gotten rid of his fever, he was still cold, and the coats he and Ban bought with the advance Merry had given weren't nearly enough to block out the frigid air, and the morning itself was so bleak, and even with the warm but funny-looking red-striped scarf, he was still cold and Ban was taking entirely too long to get them in.

At length, though, Ban trudged through the snow with a disgruntled look on his face. Ginji looked up hopefully.

"We wait out here," Ban muttered darkly, clearly in no mood for chatter, which probably meant he was also cold, and he was eyeing Ginji's scarf in a decidedly evil way. "The entire hall is rented out by some weird rich idiot for a dance concert and the moron at the gate doesn't know a damn thing."

"Okay," Ginji replied hunching miserably and pulling his scarf closer when Ban's leather-gloved hand twitched.

At least the guard at the gate was quick; less than a minute later, a tall, thin Caucasian man with long white hair emerged from the gate, tipping his head slightly to greet them.

"Good morning, sirs." He spoke with a funny accent in his Japanese, and he smiled at them politely and held out his hand which Ban shook irately. Ginji stared in open-mouthed wonder, thinking the stranger was speaking another language entirely. "I'm Dr. Jezebel Disraeli, and I'm sorry, but the hall is closed to the public until the dance troupe's opening day."

Ban returned the greeting with a slight bow, which Ginji mimicked. "We're just here to make inquiries about the concerts scheduled in the hall for the month."

Dr. Disraeli smiled amicably. "The schedule for future concerts is posted at the gate, sir, as I'm sure you've seen."

Ban shook his head. "No, we're here to inquire about a piano recital held in December 13, just last week."

The talk was brief, Dr. Disraeli was nice and he spoke very politely, though Ginji got this weird feeling about him that he only ever felt in the presence of another person of whom he'd rather not be reminded. Ban got exasperated with the doctor's accent and switched to English and they conversed shortly in that, Ginji hovering just behind them and not understanding a word.

In the end, Ban discovered that Disraeli was a private donor in the hall's construction and he was the one who rented out the place for the dance group's rehearsals. Disraeli also told them that the piano recital Ban spoke of had been cancelled the day before the performance; the pianist got stuck in the Okinawa airport because of a blizzard, and all of the patrons and others who bought tickets had been notified the same night the pianist called to cancel. Disraeli had smiled cheerfully and shook his head politely when Ban suggested he might be mistaken and there might have been people who had not been called in time.

When they returned to the Benz and Ginji was feeling warm enough to remove the ridiculous scarf, Ban related Disraeli's words, adding a softly muttered curse when he finished talking.

Ginji stared up at Ban with wide eyes. "He gives me the creeps, Ban-chan."

Ban, who was looking out the window distractedly, glowered when Ginji spoke. "What?"

"That guy, the doctor. He makes me feel… I dunno. Weird."

Ban cursed again and reached into his coat for his pack. "That's 'cause he's lying."

"What do you mean?"

"The concert was cancelled for that night like he said, but not everyone's been notified about the cancellation."

"Eh? How did you know that? Did he say it? I couldn't understand; you were speaking some weird other language."

Ban sighed, exasperated. "It's English, Ginji. If you listen well enough to yourself, you'd realize you speak a smattering of it too. And no, Disraeli didn't say anything, but the guard I spoke to said he remembered there were people who still arrived that night, and quite a good number of them. Probably, this Cain and Riff were among those people."

"Oh," said Ginji articulately.

The rest of the ride from the concert hall to the Hargreaves mansion in Nara took the better part of the day. Ban spent most of the ride sleeping and dreaming of expansive leg room for the 360, while Ginji, forgetting entirely about the weird man in the theater hall, continued to ooh and aah at the passing scenery, his excited chatter trailing off only when he realized that Ban had fallen asleep. Then Ginji smiled one of those fond, distant smiles as he looked at Ban, and lapsed into silence. He stared out the window of the car almost until they pulled up in the elevated driveway of an enormous Edwardian mansion.

Ban stirred out of his slumber in the absence of the engine hum of the car. The chauffeur alighted and rounded the vehicle to open the door for the two.

If he was sleepy as he clambered out of the Benz's backseat, Ban sure wasn't any longer after seeing the sheer magnificence of the palatial white building that was the home of their client, the same building that would house both him and Ginji for the duration of the retrieval. The mansion was large, covering all of nearly an acre of land. The grand doorway that he faced as he alighted was adorned with fluted columns. The stained glass windows reflected the dying sunlight on the windows of the car, creating a fanciful display of colored lights that reflected and refracted every which way until it shone on the rose-colored tiles of the steps that led up to the double doors in front.

Ban stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide behind his glasses as he took in the magnificence. Even in the days that he lived in the cultured wealth of his grandmother's house in Germany had he ever seen such opulence. The mansion was a masterpiece of English architecture and its magnificence was a testament to the occupants wealth.

And yet, in spite of the grandness of the mansion, the thick silence that hung over the winter air suggested a faint note of sadness as the wind whistled past. Ban narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Something with this mansion was not what it seemed and his suspicions only deepened as he recalled the names of the people who lived in this place.

He was jolted out of his reverie with Ginji's elbow jostling his back as the excited blond practically bounced on the seat in the car in his eagerness to get out.

"Ban-chan, hurry up! I can't see what the mansion's like—"

Ginji's words died on his lips as Ban moved to let his partner stand beside him and Ginji gaped in open-mouthed wonder at the mansion.

"Wow, Ban-chan, whoever lives here must be really really rich." Ginji's voice was hushed, Ban noted, to match the thick silence that drooped over the mansion. "But… I get a really creepy feeling from this place, like that doctor at the theater... It's the same feeling." Ginji shuddered and pulled closer the thick hunter green sweater he wore over his usual clothes. "It's like when I see—"

Ginji stopped talking when the double doors of the front entrance opened and Merryweather bounded out, rainbow lights from the stained glass dancing on her pretty, yellow day dress. Her eyes shone when she saw Ginji and she ran down the tiled steps to greet him.

"Ginji! You're here just like Oscar said!" She clapped at Ginji's smiling greeting.

Ban covered his snort with a cough as he looked at Ginji and Merryweather chatting each other up like they were long-time friends already and not people who had just met each other the previous day. The way they looked together, Ginji with his dark green sweater and that ridiculous red scarf, and Merryweather with her yellow dress looked like someone's funny version of a Christmas tree. Ban had decided long ago that cuteness was not really all that bad, but waking up to it after a day-long ride put his head in such a state of misery that he almost missed the officious-sounding cough that interrupted the two.

Oscar came out of the house glaring irately at an oblivious Ginji before he turned to address Ban. "Good, you're here before nightfall. I called up the theater before you arrived and it was closed for the week because of preparations for a private concert. Some rich bastard had rented the whole place out for a dance troupe's rehearsals."

"So we've heard," Ban muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as Oscar and Merry led them both into the mansion.

The interior of the mansion was not nearly as opulent as it was outside, though if the heavy red velvet drapes and the plush red carpeting were any indication, it wasn't for the owner's lack of money. It was also considerably darker: all the curtains were drawn and the warm light from the light sconces that lined the hallway seemed to emphasize the shadows more than banish them.

Merryweather led them into the parlor where Ban noted that not even the yellow light from the dangling crystal chandelier could make the room bright and cheerful. It had to be warmer outside, with the snow falling, than it was inside, in spite of the crackling fire in the library edition fireplace. The fire made the cold gloom and the unease of the mansion seem more acute.

Ginji had apparently noticed this too, and he glanced his apprehension at Ban who merely shook his head once and sank into the silk upholstered couch in the center of the room.

"So Ms. Hargreaves, how do you propose for us to go about this retrieval if you can't say anything that might give us a clue as to where to find your servant?" Ban said. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he supposed sitting in front of the mistress of the house wasn't the wisest place to light up.

Ginji nodded. "Haven't you tried hiring informers first to find out where Riff-san might be?"

Merryweather's previously cheerful expression turned cold and she lowered her eyes. "Oniisama wouldn't let me." She sounded upset, and once again, she had taken to mutilating her yellow silk gloves to alleviate her nervousness. "He said we couldn't have too many people poking into the matter, which was why we haven't called the police. Oniisama thinks the controversies he left in England might come back to haunt him if authorities knew."

Ban stomped Ginji's tactless "What controversies?" before it got out and Merry would think they were prying too. "But that still begs the question: how are we going to look for Riff if we don't know where to start looking, especially with the theater closed?"

Merry continued to fidget, her eyes fixed on her skittering hands. "I… don't know. I'm sorry."

Ban said nothing but he watched with detached interest the way Merry's hands twisted on her lap, the slight twitch on her left cheek, as if she was meaning to tell them something but didn't know if she should. Ginji smiled and took those nervous little hands into his own and smiled earnestly at Merryweather.

"Don't worry, Miss Merryweather! We'll find him." Merry looked up from her hands, enveloped in Ginji's gloved ones, and into Ginji's glowing brown eyes, and Ban knew she was a goner.

"Well," she said softly, hesitating, and glancing up momentarily at Oscar as if seeking his approval even as she spoke, "maybe… maybe you could search his study. I don't know what's in there, but Oniisama never returned there after Riff disappeared."

Ginji smiled again that winning guileless smile of his, before returning Merry's cold hands to her lap and straightening up beside Ban. "We'll get on it right away. We're the Get Backers, with 100% success rate."

Ban suppressed the smile that threatened to blossom on his lips as he followed suit, tipping his head politely to Merry before following Ginji, and Oscar, who had also gotten up, presumably to lead them to the study.

They left the parlor through a side exit that led to a narrow, poorly lit hallway lined with ancient-looking oil paintings of nameless English gentility. Ban only looked at them with passing interest; there was nothing remarkable about the long-dead nobles in the paintings, until the three of them came upon a frameless one at the end of the hallway, right next to the ebony-black door.

Oscar stopped, his hand already on the knob, when he realized both young men had stopped to linger by the frameless painting. It was the only one without a frame, and the canvas was a lot smaller than the other paintings. The painting was shoddily done, made by a skilled hand but abandoned halfway, as evidenced by the smudged pencil lines around the subject's mouth and eyes, and the absence of a background. It hung on the wall far removed from the other paintings. The subject was a dark-haired woman with the most curious expression: a calm, placid mouth, poised almost as if to smile, and wide green eyes with large pupils, dilated as if in shock or fear.

Ban stood staring at the portrait for a long moment, until Ginji grabbed his arm.

"Ban-chan, let's go." Ginji's voice did not tremble, but Ban knew when his partner was truly unsettled, and Ginji was using that voice on him now as he tugged Ban away from the painting.

Ban lingered for a few moments more, searching the portrait for a signature. There was none, but a small inscription in fluid cursive was penciled at the bottom: "To my mother, Augusta C. Hargreaves. On her death anniversary."

"Ban-chan," Ginji called again.

Oscar had also turned to watch them and he smiled unpleasantly when he saw what Ban and Ginji were looking at. "He looks nothing like her." His voice sounded odd. "I heard she died cursing him for looking like his father."

Ginji frowned at Oscar, and backtracked through the paintings they passed. "You mean this guy?" Ginji pointed at wood-framed portrait with the nameplate "Alexis Hargreaves" carved at the bottom. "Say, Ban-chan, don't you think this guy looks familiar?"

Ban glanced back at the portrait of a handsome man in his thirties looking out at Ginji with cold eyes. "No."

Ginji shrugged, glancing back again at the portrait a last time before hurrying to Ban's side as Oscar opened the door to the study. "Could've sworn we've seen him before… Say," he turned to Oscar brightly, "how do you know all those stuff? I didn't hear Merry say you're part of the family."

Oscar gave a smug sniff and turned the knob. "I'm Merry's fiancé, in case you didn't know."

Ginji poked Ban's arm. "Isn't he too old for her?"

"It's an arranged marriage, common practice among nobility in England," Ban supplied. "He is probably waiting for her to grow up." He shrugged. "Anyway, we'd better get started."

The entrance they took to the study was another side door not connected to the main hall. There were books stacked by the doorway and Ban and Ginji had to be careful to step over the piles or walk around them. The study looked more like a small library to Ban as he looked at the shelves filled to overflowing with dusty books. There were books piled on the long tables arranged in an L-shape in the middle of the room, books stacked on the floor. There were pages scattered on the table as well, some pinned on the leather blotter, others loose sheaves left haphazardly on the table and the two armchairs by the shelves. Ban stared at all the books he wished he had for himself with undisguised envy before turning to Oscar, who was still standing at the threshold of the study. Ginji was already buzzing about excitedly at the colorful pictures on some of the books left open on the table.

"Aren't you coming in too?"

Oscar shook his head, even though his face was decidedly noncommittal. "No. Better Cain sees you, not me, or I'll probably ruin my chances with Merry. If he wanders in, you can say you're friends from the country club spending the winter break here instead of Hokkaido. You can probably improvise on that."

Ban decided there was nothing country club-like in the drab winter clothes he and Ginji wore, but if this Cain was really as distraught as Merry and Oscar painted him to be, Ban could probably lie his way out of the situation.

"Oi, Ginji, you get that? No Get Backers speech from here on."

"Mmm, friends—country club—Hokkaido," said Ginji flipping pages of random books as he went around the table. "Ban-chan! Look at this! I never knew there were people who dressed in leaves even in stories!"

Ban wandered over. Ginji had found a story book and was cheerfully leafing through the pages of an old, unabridged print of Rudyard Kipling's the Jungle Book when Ban whacked him on the head. "Idiot, there's no time for that!" This said even as his fingers twitched to snatch the book from Ginji's hand to devour it himself.

Ginji grinned sheepishly and set the book down before mimicking Ban's looking through the scattered mess. "Sorry, Ban-chan."

Ban walked around the tables and sat in one of the arm chairs. One end of the table held an assortment of papers, pens and old photographs, where he found the still of the woman whose painting he had been studying and he stared at it momentarily before setting it down and rummaging through the other papers on the table. There was something disturbing about her eyes, the captured mixture of fear and shock in them, in spite of the utter calmness of her set mouth. The woman in the photograph wore a hospital gown under the heavy white blanket.

Ban found a few more papers near the pictures and he leafed through several untouched shipping records and financial reports. The Hargreaves were actually in good standing with their export business.

Ginji wandered to the adjacent bookshelf fingering some leather bounds. "Ban-chan," he called pulling out a book. "Isn't it strange we are allowed to look into the count's room?"

"This is his 'study', not his…" Ban started to say but abruptly stopped realizing what Ginji was driving at. Why indeed, should complete strangers like them be easily allowed to paw into the count's personal things when not even Oscar apparently wanted to? Merryweather must want them to find something else for her other than Riff, and it was probably something her brother was keeping from her.

"Ban-chan," Ginji called again.

Ban looked up to see him holding another book.

"The count really has a lot of books about plants," Ginji said putting back the book into the shelf. "He must be a plant doctor or something. All of these are about plants. I bet even this big black one is about pla—it's stuck! Ban-chan, help me with this." He was pulling at the spine of a black leather bound book from the top shelf.

"Oy! Oy! I'll kill you if you break anything," Ban warned getting up from his seat and stalking over to Ginji. He tried pulling the book with him but it simply wouldn't budge. It was probably stuck with the other books in the shelf.

"It's stuck!" Ginji complained.

Confounded Ban turned to lean on the bookcase tapping his fingers on his chin thoughtfully. He was about to reach into his pocket to light a cigarette but stopped to face the row of books. Ginji was eyeing him from the window seat nearby. He traces the black book's spine and gave it a little nudge.

The book sunk halfway to the paneling of the bookshelf, and with an eerie scraping sound the whole shelf moved to open like a door.

"Just as I thought," Ban announced moving out of the shelf's way as it swung slowly to reveal a door way for a room behind it. "English noblemen are so predictable."

"Wow, a secret room!" Ginji said excitedly, coming up behind Ban. "Let's see what's inside." He was already halfway in when footsteps echoed in the main hall. His cry was swallowed by the welling darkness of the room as he caught himself out of balance.

Ban pushed Ginji into the unknown room and pulled back the black book in the shelf.

"Who are you?" a cold voice called in fluid English from the open doorway.

Ban gazed at a disheveled young man standing by the door whose icy, green-gold eyes swept over him contemptuously, and for a while, he remembered the horrified look in the eyes of the woman in the portrait.

"I asked, 'who are you' and what are you doing in my study?"

TBC.