Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Once again Hannah Palindromes Rock has inspired me

What if Kaito, or rather Kid, had gone to Inspector Nakamori with his case?

Evidence

"Nakamori-keibu."

The police inspector jerked violently, lunging to his feet and spinning around with a speed that would have been the envy of anyone unfamiliar with a certain magician thief. Instinctively a hand groped for his rarely used service revolver only to remember he had placed it in the safe. Then, the older man froze, hands dropping to his side as he recognized the voice.

"Kid!" Ginzo hissed as he willed his heartbeat to calm. "What the ^ $%&#*$*%! Are you doing here?!" Anger was not an unfamiliar emotion when confronted with the kaitou, but this was different. This was his home, not some museum. He examined the figure with sharp eyes, as ever attempting to find a new clue to the enigma that was his long time prey. Kid had exchanged his usual outfit for something more stealthy, hat pulled low over his face to obscure his features. Dark eyes widened with shock as his unwelcome visitor bowed, true regret in every line of the thief's body.

"I apologize for my intrusion Inspector. But I need your opinion on something"

Nakamori opened his mouth to demand why the hell he would ever freely offer the thief advice only to freeze mid-word.

"As an officer of the law."

The Inspector blinked hard once, than twice, his gaze drawn to the neat line of small plastic totes stacked at Kid's feet. His brow furrowed. This whole encounter was odd to say the least, but this was Kid. He would know the other anywhere (with the ease of long habit he ignored the many, many times he had failed to recognize the kaitou). Cautiously the older man took a step forward; Kid taking one back to match him as the pair slowly traded places.

Ten minutes later Nakamori was almost sorry he had opened the boxes. In fact he felt more than a little sick. The files read like the worst of the cases he had encountered throughout his career, only these were not isolated incidents. No, they were all the work of the same group of people, and it had been happening with no one the wiser for years. Perhaps even decades.

The thief's notes were meticulous. Transcripts of recordings, bits of video, even a collection of physical evidence, all of which had been professionally bagged and labeled. It was all here. Resolutely, Ginzo turned another page only to pale, the blood draining from his face. It couldn't be, but it was.

"Homora?" the inspector whispered. The man in that photograph had briefly been a member of the taskforce before a hidden camera had caught him stealing from the police lockup. The goods had been reacquired from the disgraced officer's home. The evidence had been so overwhelming that the trial had been a mere formality and everyone knew it, yet to this day Homora still denied he had . . ."

"It was you," Nakamori stated, looking up to meet the thief's shadowed gaze. Homora really hadn't done it.

Kid shrugged unapologetically. "He is guilty of worse things." The thief's ever present smirk was nowhere to be seen, his voice as cold as the artic planes. "And I certainly wasn't going to leave him in a position where he could shot you in the back." And yes, he meant that literally.

The magician almost hesitated, before speaking again. "What do you think keibu? Is it enough for a conviction?" Please, Kaito prayed to himself. Please let it be enough.

"More than enough," Ginzo said grimly closing the file. He would look through the rest later. He still had questions though. It was not unusual for Kid to bring criminals far worse than he to the attention of the police, but this was different. This was not something the thief had just stumbled across. Those boxes represented years of work. Dark eyes strayed to a collection of bullets, dangerous work. He stood, looking his long-time adversary in the eyes, or as close as he could manage. "Why?"

Kid didn't even pretend not to understand. Gloved hands clenched, granting the officer a rare glimpse beneath his poker face, though his voice remained perfectly calm. "They stole something from me," he answered in his usual smooth voice. "Something not even I can take back."

Inspector Ginzo Nakamori may not have been one of the bright stars of the Force, but he was no fool either. He could decipher that statement well enough. It put the eight year hiatus in a whole new light, even if he doubted he would ever have the whole picture. "Why me?" he asked instead.

"I trust you," came the simple, but shocking answer. "And I have decided I can no longer wait for Snake and his ilk to slip up." The assassin was a slippery as the animal from which he took his name. Besides, even for a murderous psychopath, his Father's killer had been acting off lately. Kaito was a little worried the other was going to do something extreme, and that was something he could not allow.

The thief bowed again; smoke billowing out of his sleeves to obscure the room. "Thank you keibu," the soft words came from everywhere and nowhere. "I leave this in your hands," though he would be watching. That was guaranteed.

When the inspector could see again, Kid was gone, only a list of trustworthy officers left behind. Ginzo's gaze was dark as he picked it up. First, he would send Aoko to visit his late wife's relatives in the country, and after that, it seemed he had a lot of work to do.

FoGFoGFoGFoG

Hope you enjoyed and please review

I have an idea for a new Kuroba 'Verse one-shot too. I just need time to write it.

Something that is unfortunately in short supply right now.