Disclaimer - This is strictly fanfiction and I own no legal rights to the copyrighted characters within. Intended strictly as a tribute to the works of Monkey Punch, and a little bit to the works of Maurice LeBlanc.

A/N - Since I promised a Zenigata-centric chapter last time, I wanted to have this chapter ready for yesterday, or "Pops" Day. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite able to manage. Still, I hope everyone was able to say a special thank you to the tottsan in their lives.


Fumio Machii's nose wrinkled as he looked out the slit in his tinted limousine window at Inspector Zenigata.

Zenigata hadn't had a chance to wash his clothes or bathe since Lupin had dropped him into a trailer of manure. The back of his trench coat and most of the brim of his fedora were covered in black goo, and flies buzzed around him.

Still, the inspector was making every effort to stand at his full height, back straight, and stiff-upper lipped.

"I had him, Mr. Machii," he said. "I'll have him again soon."

"But you don't have him now," Machii said icily. "I followed your instructions to the letter. I sent my decoy in my place, along with all of my best men. I tried to blend in inconspicuously on a . . ." He delivered the next phrase with total disgust. "Public flight. And you're telling me after all those precautions, after you swore to me that you could predict his every step, Lupin still managed to avoid capture?"

Because he jumped out of a damn airplane! Zenigata thought. How was he supposed to plan for that? What kind of nut just abandons the plane mid-flight? What kind of nut does that make me?

It had been pure instinct. Lupin had acted, and Zenigata responded with the natural reaction. He'd nearly killed himself and Lupin both trying to arrest the little weasel in free fall.

That was reckless and stupid. His famous ancestor, Heiji, would have been smarter than that. He would have disabled Lupin before he could leap with a single toss of a well-aimed penny.

Out loud, Zenigata said nothing. He just hung his head and studied the tops of his filthy shoes in shame.

"I've done everything I can to cooperate in this man's capture, just as you asked," Machii said. "Now, I have important business to attend to. I expect to be notified as soon as this man is caught so that my property can be returned to me."

And the limousine drove off.


Lupin, meanwhile, had taken a nice long shower and switched out of his flight attendant disguise. He was reclining comfortably in his casual clothes in the expensive hotel room he'd checked into under one of his many aliases. He was cheerfully whistling as he poured himself a glass from the bottle of Don Paragon that room service had brought.

Jigen was less amused.

"This inspector," he said. "Zenigata. He was there at Machii's HQ the first time we tried to get our hands on that flash drive, and then on Machii's private flight the second time."

"That's some bad luck you guys have been having," Fujiko offered, reclining on the sofa, her head lolled over the arm rest with her eyes shut contentedly.

"Bad luck my foot," Jigen spat. "He was tipped off."

Fujiko opened her eyes and turned to Jigen at that, but Lupin jumped forward first.

"I didn't send him anything those times," he insisted. "Not since the shindig for Woodcut's daughter, I swear."

"Then how come he always seems to know just what we're gonna do before we do it?"

Lupin sat down and sighed.

"He's been following me around for a while now. Maybe he just figured it out himself. Maybe . . ." His eyes seemed to glaze over as he imagined what he would consider the worst-case scenario. "Maybe I'm just getting that predictable."

The answer didn't seem to satisfy Jigen, who chewed on his lip as he watched the rain come down outside the hotel window.

Lupin jumped to his feet again.

"We can worry about Machii's piece of the project later," he said. "I came to Boston to get my hands on Benjamina Carson's share of the research, and that's exactly what I'm going to do." He rubbed his hands together. "The good doctor's working the late shift at the hospital tonight. That makes right now the perfect opportunity to check out her house, take a little look around inside . . ."

"Have fun boys," Fujiko said, climbing off the couch and grabbing an umbrella.

"You're not coming?" Lupin asked, his disappointment obvious.

"Doesn't really sound like you need me. I'm going for a walk, to take a little look around the city."

When the door closed behind her, Lupin turned to Jigen.

"The doll's right, you know. You should be able to handle a simple breaking and entering just fine on your own." He adjusted the brim of his hat and headed out the door himself. "Been a while since I've set foot in this country. I'm gonna see if I can find some place I can get a decent drink."

"You two enjoy your sight-seeing!" Lupin shouted through the door. "Not like we came here with a specific goal in mind or anything!"

Who needs 'em? he thought. He'd done some of his best work alone, anyway. Another solo caper might actually be . . . pretty relaxing.


Dr. Benjamia Carson strolled through the parking lot of Han Jopkins Hospital, exhausted and ready for bed. Another stressful night of neurosurgery done, and all she could think of was going home.

She was stopped by a long black limousine in her path.

The tinted window rolled down, and she recognized Fumio Machii.

"Mr. Machii, I didn't expect to see you here tonight. I thought . . ."

"Get in, Dr. Carson. Please."

A limo door opened.

Dr. Carson reluctantly climbed in. The men inside looked her up and down with sneers. They were all dressed in black, except for one dressed in an ice cream colored suit and wide-brimmed hat and another looking incredibly out of place in a samurai's uniform. That man, at least, looked like he was about to offer her a friendly smile, though he seemed to think better of it in the end.

"We need to discuss the Asimov Project," Machii continued.

"Okay." Dr. Carson tried to keep her voice from trembling, but the men seated around her seemed to sense her fear like animals, and began chuckling at her discomfort. "I have the data back at my house, if you want to . . ."

"Relax, Doctor," Machii said, his sing-song cadence frighteningly pleasant. "Sit back. We're going to take you for a little drive."


Fujiko had walked several blocks, trying to act casual, not looking over her shoulder. But she couldn't shake the feeling she was being followed.

Finally, she stopped and pulled out her compact, as if to fix her makeup, looking at the little mirror there. Then she spotted him. Though he'd already caught up and was directly over her shoulder.

"Funny running into you, Fujiko."

It was the dumb one. The American lummox in his antiquated fedora.

Fujiko forced a smile and turned to face him.

"Found a place to get a decent drink yet?"

"You know, I was going to," Jigen said, "but then I thought about you going for your walk in the rain . . . and you know what happens when you go walking alone outside at night like this."

"Thanks," Fujiko said. "But when I said that before, it was just part of the con. I'm actually quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Still," Jigen insisted, "a lady like you should have a gentleman escort."

He reached for her elbow, but she quickly pulled away from him.

"All right. After you."

She waved a hand in front of her, but Jigen responded with a more dramatic wave of the arm.

"Ladies first. I insist."

Fujiko nodded and stepped ahead of him. She closed the umbrella that had been shielding her from the rain, looking around for witnesses as she did so. Then, with one smooth, swift motion, she spun around, swinging the umbrella as hard as she could at Jigen's head.

The umbrella landed with a sharp crack. Jigen straightened like a jack knife, then collapses face first into a large puddle.

Fujiko walked briskly across the street to the nearest payphone, dropped her coins in the slot, and then dialed.

"It's me."

"We had a deal, Fujiko!" The voice of her contact roared through the receiver, gravelly and at the top of its lungs.

"I'm doing exactly what you asked me to. I'm feeding you all of his movements."

"You've been holding back details. You told me he'd be on the plane, but you didn't tell me he'd be bailing before Massachusetts."

"I didn't know. Look. He doesn't tell me everything."

"You promised me you'd have him wrapped around your little finger."

"And I will. It's just . . . "

"Just what?"

"The plans he shares aren't very detailed. Either he's playing this really close to the vest, or . . ."

"Or?"

"Or he doesn't really plan. He's just making this all up as he goes along."

"You're telling me the world-famous Lupin III doesn't plan his heists? He just stumbles his way through them?"

"I'm not sure," Fujiko insisted, panic creeping into her voice. "But I know that this all some kind of game to him. He wants to be chased. I think he might even want you to catch him."

"Where is he now?"

"He said he was going to check out Benjamina Carson's house. That's all I know."

"Until I have him, you're not off the hook, Fujiko Mine. Don't you forget that!"

The phone call ended abruptly. Fujiko placed the receiver back on its hook, then opened her umbrella again and walked back towards the hotel, walking across Jigen's back to make it over the puddle he'd landed in without dirtying her shoes.


"The research is all back at my house," Dr. Carter said, losing her composure more and more as the sights around her looked less and less familiar.

"I know that," Machii said.

"Where are we going?"

"That's not important."

Dr. Carter clenched her fists, forced a neutral expression, and decided to tell Machii exactly what she had been planning on telling him.

"The research is yours, just as we agreed. It was your project to begin with. But I don't want any part of it."

Machii just arched an eyebrow in response.


The Tipton Hotel was slightly more luxurious than the one Lupin had checked into. But it was located too conveniently close to his target to make an appropriate hideout.

Still, Lupin strolled into the lobby as if he belonged there, then took the elevator to the third floor. Once there, he smiled disarmingly and casually borrowed a passing maid's keycard to let himself into an unoccupied room before tossing it back to her.

With the door closed and locked behind him, the lights still out, Lupin opened the window and looked out on Dr. Carson's house next door. She'd done all right for herself. Lupin planned on leaving everything inside as nice as he found it.

He reached into the small attaché case he'd brought inside the hotel and pulled out a crossbow. He fired the bolt into the nearest windowsill of Benjamina Carson's house, then tied the end of the grappling line trailing from it to the heater below his window.

He put on a pair of climbing gloves and then slowly, carefully, shimmied across the line.

Once on the other end, the window opened easily. Dr. Carson hadn't bothered to lock the windows of the top story of her house.

But once inside, Lupin realized leaving the house as nice as he found it wouldn't be a problem. The room had been ransacked. Drawers had been pulled from their chests and left scattered on the floor, scraps of paper and odds-and-ends strewn about them. Furniture lied in pieces. Curtains were pulled down. Pillows, blankets, and articles of clothing had been slashed and discarded.

And Lupin could hear the slamming and crashing of further rummaging below him.

He crept forward to investigate, only to feel cold steel clamp around his wrist.

A bright light nearly blinded him as a switch was thrown, and then Zenigata was standing next to him, his wrist clasped in the other bracelet of the handcuff.

"Got you now, Lupin!" Zenigata shouted.

In response, several thugs filed into the room, carrying semi-automatic weapons.

"I'm not sure now's the best time, Pops."

"Zenigata, Interpol." He flashed his badge. "This man is under arrest. Now, if you'll all put down your weapons . . ."

The man closest to him pointed his weapon at Zenigata's face.

Suddenly, Lupin and Zenigata were on the exact same wavelength. They wrapped the chain connecting their handcuffs around the gun, twisting it out of the man's hand, then launched their free hands into the thug's face.

Surging forward, they stooped down to trip one of the men with the chain, then raised their arms to clothesline the next man. Then they were being attacked from each side.

Lupin was fighting dirty, kicking and clawing with his free hand to knock the guns from his enemies' hands and incapacitate them.

Zenigata, on the other hand, was far more disciplined, grabbing men and throwing them.

Pops knows judo! Lupin thought, impressed.

And then the Inspector backhanded him with his cuffed hand.

"Hey! Cheap shot."

"Sorry," Zenigata mumbled sheepishly. "That was an accident."

He twirled Lupin around as he ran, and when the thief leaped into the air, he launched a kick into three more armed thugs.

The men around the room were starting to crawl back to their feet, reaching for their weapons.

"I have an idea!" Lupin shouted, running towards the window.

"What is it?"

"Just jump!"

Zenigata looked at the ground below, and the grappling line leading from the house to the hotel.

"No."

But he had no choice. When Lupin ran forward, Zenigata fell after him. They landed on opposite sides of the line, the handcuff chain draped over it, and ziplined down to the hotel . . .

Crashing face first into the wall.

Slowly, they each reached up for the windowsill, then climed up and through into the hotel room.

The men next door were firing their weapons through the window at the hotel.

Lupin sprinted out of the hotel room, dragging Zenigata along. They bounded down the stairs, then through the kitchen, once again tripping or clotheslining people as they went, only now on accident, with Zenigata muttering apologies as they went. Finally, they burst through the service exit, and then kept running until they had to stop for breath.

"Okay," Lupin panted. "I think we're safe. You can undo these cuffs now."

"Not this time. I'm taking you straight to the police department."

"I was hoping it wouldn't have to be this way."

And suddenly Lupin was out of the handcuffs and bounding over a low wall.

Zenigata looked all around, until he heard "Hey, Pops" and spotted Lupin sitting on a rooftop.

"Of course I can get out of those handcuffs," Lupin said. "I'm the world's greatest thief, and police handcuffs are Lock-picking 101. But think about this: I'm not the one who just tried to kill you. Those were Fumio Machii's men. He's the one you should be after. Face it. Right now, I'm the lesser of two evils. And . . . we actually could make a pretty good team."

"Never," Zenigata spat. "I don't work with petty crooks."

Then Lupin dropped from the roof, and seemed to just vanish.

A/N – To be continued . . .