Chapter 3: In Which We Wake

"--brutally slaughtered eleven men in his break-- --amato Asylum-- --believed to be wounded by police-- --rrently unarmed-- --repeat-- --fitting this descript-- --six-fee-- --"

There was a long burst of static there, but father and son had heard the description of their passenger the first time.

In the rearview mirror, the fugitive slept on, unawares.

"--billionaire recluse offering-- --ousand on any information-- --ive hundred thousand-- --bring in-- --chopath-- --killed his-- --nephew--"

Father and son stared at each other.

Acuity of awareness overcame Tsuzuki's prior suggestion that they ignore their olfactory senses. They could both smell the blood again. His? Or his victims?

"-- of Tsuzuki Asato--"

Tatsumi had just begun to calculate the distance to their precinct station, insidiously speeding up the car, when half a million dollars suddenly yanked open the door and jumped out.

Tatsumi brought the car to a screeching halt. And Hisoka – with an impulse born part from desire for the fiscal solution to all their medical bills, part indignation that they had unwittingly aided a criminally insane murderer, and part disbelief that that bedraggled specimen could do him or anyone much harm unless they lay down and let him – leaped out after the runaway.

Note:

Mine thanks to reviewers. Apologies for brevity. One thinks, and thus writes, in fragments…