Chapter 3

Naomi Misora sat in her spacious penthouse apartment on the large white leather sofa, clutching her phone to her ear. L's metallic voice gave her instructions while she took notes on a small piece of paper. She had written down an address and some directions, and was waiting for further information.

"The place I want you to go is a small side street which isn't frequented by many people - all previous incidents have occurred in similar places, away from the eyes of passers-by," L was saying.

Naomi was slowly growing accustomed to hearing the metallic ring in her ears whenever he spoke, though it still made her feel slightly weird, like she was talking to a machine.

"When you arrive there, I want you to take a good look around, and take note of anything suspicious you see - observe closely any people you may encounter, and the scene itself. It is important that we work thoroughly on this case."

Yeah, yeah, she thought, slightly annoyed - it was the same drill as on any of her cases as an agent - look carefully and don't miss anything. Observe from the shadows and do not, whatever you do, make yourself noticeable by your actions. Act natural, and blend in with your surroundings.

Why was L telling her this? Of course she knew all of these things - she was with the FBI, after all.

And, as if he had read her mind, he said: "I would appreciate it if you took this seriously. It is not a case anyone can handle, and it is crucial that you go unnoticed. This part of Tokyo is not like your average big city - things work differently here, and the police have little to no chance of controlling the crime rates in this sector. Do not, unless it is absolutely necessary, reveal to anyone that you are on the side of the law and, but this goes without saying, the fact that you are working for me. It is essential for us to remain unnoticed for as long as we possibly can. For this purpose I have created a fake identity for you, which you will use in all situations. You are no longer Naomi Misora; your name is Shoko Maki, you are a reporter for a small local paper and are interested in the killings."

Naomi frowned, but she could see how this was going to work; think fast, stay out of the radar, and play it off if things don't work out. Simple enough, and similar to other missions she had had.

"If possible, I want you to leave immediately," L was saying, "I hear the police has scheduled their own investigation for today, and it would be best if you arrived before them lest they... destroy potential evidence. I want you to look deeper than a regular police officer or agent would, and to do that, the scene needs to be untouched by others. There is a cab waiting outside to take you to the close vicinity of the location, and you will walk the rest of the way to remain inconspicuous."

She nodded, then reminded herself that he couldn't see her - or could he? She found she wouldn't even be surprised if he had cameras set up everywhere.

Making a mental note to check the bathroom thoroughly before using it, she said: "I understand. Is there... any general information you can give me concerning this... 'slasher', or whatever it is that people have been calling him?"

She though L almost sounded a little smug when he replied: "Of course. There have been nine incidents so far, the most current one last night, actually."

Her eyes widened. "I should have been here sooner...! What happened to the victims?!"

L was silent for a moment, as if waiting for a further interruption, but when none came, he continued: "The so-called 'slasher' does not kill his victims; he attacks them with a blade of some sort and wounds them. The victims in the incidents so far seem to have been chosen at random, but the 'slasher' always struck at night, and preferably, as I mentioned before, in deserted alleyways and small side streets."

He paused for a second, and she let herself process what she had heard.

The cases she was dealing with weren't even killings...? For some reason she found herself almost disappointed. She had to admit she had been expecting something a little more... grand and intricate, since L had gone to the trouble to take on this case himself and to find an agent to look into this for him. Something like... well, murder, of course.

Again L seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Please do not take this case lightly. It is of utmost importance that we solve it."

She hesitated, wanting to argue, to ask why he thought this was so important, but restrained herself. If she went to the scene, she might find out for herself.

The cab driver dropped her off about five blocks away from the side street she was supposed to investigate, and notified her that he was going to wait for her there until she had finished her business. Of course L would have arranged this. She wasn't even really surprised anymore.

Looking down the road, she could not, for the moment, see any police cars or fenced off areas, which made her sigh softly in relief. It was so much easier to sneak into a place that was not highly guarded and restricted to the public.

As she walked briskly down the street on the opposite side of her actual destination, she took in as much as possible of her surroundings. The sidewalk was well packed with people, and on closer inspection she saw that many of them were relatively young, and pretty diverse. Her first impression of the city being colorful was reinforced by what she saw now - shops and boutiques with neon signs and advertisements in the windows, a small square with a fountain and benches and small green bushes lining the entrances to stores, and small roads branching off in all directions.

It was into one of these roads - one of the darker, more unfriendly ones nonetheless - that L was sending her, and she made her way there by weaving through a small group of yellow-clad youths.

They struck her as such, even though she saw, upon closer examination, that each one of them was only wearing one or two yellow items.

Thinking that it had probably jumped out at her because yellow was an unusual color to see people wearing, she brushed her surprise aside for the moment and concentrated on reaching her destination.

The alley she walked into narrowed slightly, only to widen again at a crossroads with another side street. She turned left, the way L had described earlier, and found herself instinctively ducking her head a little and pulling her jacket closer to her body. Of course as an agent she had been to some shady places, but somehow she still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched sometimes.

Thankfully the so-called scene of the crime was right in front of her now. Apparently the 'slasher' had attacked three young girls in front of one of the houses here, where they had been standing together. Another girl who had been with them at the time had not been harmed, strangely enough. The three victims had been taken to hospital, and according to L they were still there, but his priority had been that she examine the scene first before talking to any of them.

Naomi slowed her steps and focused her eyes on the ground, taking in the surroundings.

It didn't take her long to realize that the police had probably already been here - because the scene had already been rid of any traces of the crime. She could see where the ground had been freshly cleaned, it suspiciously lacked any kind of dirt or litter that was normal for a side street - no scattered leaves that had somehow found their way here from the plants in the larger squares, no cigarette buds, no small pebbles or just plain dirt or rubble - even though Naomi had seen all of these things on the ground on her way to the scene.

In addition to that, the side of the house she had now stopped in front of had been freshly repainted; it stood out from the rest of the houses in the area with its fresh coat of grayish-white color.

She stepped closer, examining the small electricity cabinet attached to the wall. When she knelt down to look at its underside, she saw exactly what she had been expecting: A residue of dark red, dried and crumbling, but definitely blood.

This was the right place. She kept her eyes to the ground as she walked to the side of the building, to where it met the next one and the road was dirty again. Here, too, upon closer examination, were small splashes of dried blood - small enough to pass as insignificant, but they were there.

So she was too late - probably half a day too late to meet the people who had cleaned up the mess, and therefore much too late to run into any police officer. Too late to find significant evidence.

She pulled out her phone as she walked to the other side of the house, checking to see if maybe she had missed something. She pushed a few buttons, then held it to her ear.

It rang once, then the line went dead.

Rolling her eyes, she lowered her phone - and less than a second later it began ringing. For some reason, L preferred to make calls than to be called.

"Naomi Misora," the metallic voice said. "This is sooner than I expected. Did you find something?"

She raised her eyebrows. So there were places where L couldn't see her...? Well, it did make sense. After all, he had said he needed her in order to solve this case - if he already knew everything she wouldn't be here.

"No. The scene's already been cleaned up, the house repainted. Seems like the authorities in this part of town are pretty thorough," she said.

L hesitated for a moment.

"I see. They are trying to prevent panic by covering the incidents up. That means they have no real leads."

She bent over, examining the ground between the gray house and the one on its right, waiting.

"Of course it also means that we need to be faster," L continued. "If the area has been completely cleaned, the police conducted their investigation immediately after the incident occurred, instead of waiting for daylight to make their search easier. Which, in turn, could mean they missed something."

Naomi was about to argue that there was nothing left at the scene when something caught her eye. There was a dent in the curb on the far side of the house to the left, far enough away that it might be unrelated to the incident, and something silver glinted up at her from there.

"Miss Misora?"

She ignored him for the moment and bent down to pick the object up. Straightening herself, she held it into the fading light of the afternoon sun, which barely reached her in the dark alley.

"I think they did miss something," she said, flipping closed and pocketing the object: A small, pink-handled knife.

The informant Izaya Orihara stood with his back to his office, looking out of the large window behind his desk into the city below. He held a phone to his ear, and a grin framed his face, as usual.

"Thank you for telling me this," he was saying, "you're proving to be very useful."

He hung up the call and turned back to his computer, dropping down into his chair.

"An outsider, huh? Well then, let's see what we can find out about this woman."

He pushed a button on the phone and the picture of a black-haired woman in a dark leather jacket filled the screen.

"Where did you come from...? And why are you so interested in our town...?"

A/N:

Hi.

Don't murder me please. I've kept everyone waiting for so long...! I have no satisfying excuse, either. No crisis, no sudden deaths, no psychological illness - sorry about that. All I can say is: I am now done with school and I've moved, and that took up some time - but I'm back, and I shoud be able to "stay back". To write more. To update more frequently.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story so far - if you guys are still here, this is for you.