Chapter Three

Mamoru pressed his forehead against the cool glass of his bedroom window. The nightmare still had a hold over him, and he felt bile rising in his throat. He just about made it to the toilet before he was violently sick.
Images of two women - one golden, one silver - had haunted him all night long. Both of them were dying on a battlefield, with their hearts missing. But it wasn't the blood or the gore, it was the loneliness that got to him. The loneliness and the heat. The two women had been alone amidst all those faceless people, and their light had slowly diminished until everything was dark around them. It was then that he had woken up, sweat on his skin and tears in his eyes.

Sleep had never been easy for him; until he had met Usagi, his nights were filled with memories of his parents dying in that horrific car crash only he had survived. And after Usagi, it was her demise that crept up on time and again.
Everyone had tried to assure him that she hadn't even noticed that the house was burning, she had died from carbon monoxide poisoning in her sleep before the flames ever got to her. Despite all the kind words, the doubts had remained with him, were his constant companion. Mamoru wished that he could believe his colleagues, but he had altered the truth for the sake of a victim's family so often that he knew how practised these lies were after a while. He couldn't even bury his wife, because when the house had burnt to the ground, it had taken all her remains with it. The firemen had never been able to tell where the fire had started, they reckoned Usagi forgot to blow a candle out before going to bed. What still irked Mamoru about this assumption was not the notion of his wife's absent-mindedness, but that Usagi wasn't all that fond of candles to begin with. She barely ever lit any, and preferred funny lamps she collected on flea markets instead. A fond smile crept up on his face as he remembered the atrocious Hello Kitty lamp she had brought home one day. Usagi had beamed as she put it on their nightstand, and her smile had lit up the room more than any electrical light ever could. God, how he missed her...

Mamoru returned to his bed despite knowing that he wouldn't fall asleep again. In this black night, he was just as alone as the two women from his dream.

A whisper caressed his ears, and Noboru woke up to find himself alone in his bedroom. Groaning, he got up and looked out of the window. The night was still dark, but he decided to stay awake anyway. The stars were too bright, and so was the moon. I should really get blinds one day, he thought as he dragged himself into his narrow kitchen. After turning the coffee machine on, Noboru sat down at his computer and began to read through the wikipedia entry on Minako Aino. It wasn't as if he had never read it before, but he needed something to occupy himself with. And the internet was always a good starting point. He began to click through several pages until he finally stumbled over something unexpected. Interesting.

Every once in a while he looked at the wooden clock he had hammered on his wall after a thoroughly frustrating trip to IKEA with an ex-girlfriend. He couldn't exactly remember whether it had been Naru or Saika, but what did it matter now? As soon as the small plastic hand moved to five, he picked up his phone and dialled. Mamoru answered on the first ring.
"Yes?"
"You awake?"
"Didn't sleep much."
"Me neither. Let's meet in the office in an hour."
"Okay."
They put the phone down simultaneously. After years of working together, they didn't need many words. When they had been partnered together, Mamoru was a rookie straight from the academy, but the bugger carried himself with the air of a natural leader, Noboru remembered fondly. Noboru himself had worked as a Inspector for three years already, and his old partner had just retired, which was a good thing because he would have strangled the old man otherwise. To say that they hadn't gotten along was the understatement of the century.
It wasn't long before Mamoru introduced him to his young wife; they had gotten married as soon as she finished high school and were now living together in a small house Mamoru had bought from the remains of his inheritance. They didn't have much money, but Noboru preferred a dinner at the Chibas to any chic restaurant in the city. He felt instantly at home with them and his partner seemed like a completely different man when his wife was around. Usagi made him happier, younger. With her death, everything had changed. Noboru couldn't explain it well, but Mamoru was a different man now. As if his heart had been ripped out, too...

Noboru shook his head and went to take a cold shower; sometimes it was all he could do to banish the dark thoughts that popped up his head as if they belonged. He had less than an hour to turn himself into the bubbly partner Mamoru needed him to be. One shower and three espressos later, he was almost there.

"I found him." Noboru was giddy with excitement, he was pacing up and down, not a small feat considering how tiny their office and how large Noboru was. His hair was a bit wilder than usual today, and Mamoru strongly suspected that this was due to how often Noboru ran his hands through it when he was thinking.
"The lover?" Mamoru sat a little straighter in his rickety chair. It creaked ominously.
"No, the photographer. His name is Hisaya Nigoshi, and he works for the country's main paparazzi agency. Young fellow, about 23. He used to follow Aino everywhere, got the best pictures, meaning all the ones she would have rather not seen in print and then all of a sudden, he stopped and refused to take on any further assignments that had even remotely to do with her. I called him before I drove here, and we will meet him in two hours for coffee. And he may even be able to identify our mystery man."
Mamoru shook his head at his partner's cheek. Calling a possible witness at five thirty in the morning? There was also something wrong with his partner's logic and he voiced his doubt without hesitation.
"Noboru, you're not making any sense. If he stopped taking pictures of Aino, then how can you be so sure that it's him?"
"Paps do their job for the money and money alone. Snapping upskirts of Aino was lucrative, so why should he stop unless he came to get to know her personally? And why do you think these paparazzi pics of her going down on mystery man never surfaced? They are worth more than your car, my car and both of our flats together. Also, when I rang him and asked him about those pictures, he immediately knew what I was talking about and all but confirmed that it was him who took them."

Taking a sip from his dirty mug (they still hadn't gotten round to cleaning the place), Mamoru read through a memo.
"The forensic people found several strands of hair in different places. Long black and short blonde. Couldn't say whose it was though. Not Aino's, that's for sure. Also a few fingerprints, but none in the database."
"Your fan has long black hair. And Aino's lover's hair is short and blonde. Curly though."
"My fan? You're exaggerating. But we will get her to submit a sample. Not that a positive result would carry much meaning, we already know that she was there at some point. She told us so herself."
"She might have been there to burn a hole into Aino's chest and then rip her heart out."
The coroner's report had been very precise: he was able to pinpoint the victim's death to three o'clock at night, give or take five minutes and she must have died the minute her beating heart was ripped from her body. The unconventional and haunting piece of information was that the murderer had not cut her open, but burnt a hole into her chest. Which also explained the missing blood: it had vaporised. The scorch marks did not leave room for any other interpretation and it scared both the Inspectors. Who did such a thing? Katsurou Hanzo had not been able to say what had been used as a weapon, but he assumed that it had been a laser. Nothing else could generate enough heat, but then with a laser, the wounds should have been clear cut and not as messy as they were. So the bottom line was that they didn't even know which sort of murder weapon to look for.

Thankfully, Aino's eyes had been closed, when they had found her.
Mamoru was certain that he couldn't stand to see the expression in them were they not. She had to have been in incredible pain, but why didn't she fight back? There was only one sensible answer: she had known her murderer and trusted him until it was too late. It also meant that her death had at least been a quick one. Deep down, he knew that Setsuna Meioh was a suspect, but he didn't want to believe it. She was the first woman he had really looked at since Usagi died, she couldn't have perpetrated a crime as atrocious as this one. It was obvious that she hadn't cared much for her employer, but that didn't make her a murderer. Lots of people hated their boss, Noboru himself wasn't overly fond of their Chief Inspector. He steeled himself and spoke up.
"You don't seriously think that Setsuna Meioh is our murderer. There is no motive, Aino was her main source of income."
Noboru shrugged and cast his partner a knowing look. It said quite clearly: You just want her to be innocent because she wants you. Fucker.
Frustrated, Mamoru opened another folder with newspaper cuttings and delved into the adventure that had been Minako Aino's life. Sometimes he really wished that Noboru couldn't read him this well.

They spotted him as soon as they entered the café. He was slouched in a corner booth, a red notebook beside him. His hair ( shoulder length golden curls, Mamoru noticed with a jolt) was a mess, and he had dark circles under his closed eyes. His skin looked as if he hadn't eaten in the days. The coffee in front of him was untouched.
When they stepped closer to the table, he looked up and Noboru noticed that the photographer's hands were trembling. He was a very nervous man, clearly afraid of something.

"Mr. Nigoshi, I'm Inspector Sanjoin, we spoke on the phone. This is my partner, Inspector Chiba. Can we take a seat?"
A weak nod invited them to the table, and a waitress appeared out of nowhere to take their orders. Mamoru ordered some much needed coffee, but food would have to wait until later; he and Noboru didn't eat as a rule while they were interviewing witnesses. Not that he was entirely sure that Hisaya Nigoshi was a witness, the trembling man in front of him might also be a suspect. One thing however was sure: he was not Aino's lover, his build was too slight to match the man in the picture.
The second the waitress had left, Hisaya blurted out: "It wasn't me. I swear, it wasn't me."
"I didn't think it was," Noboru said calmly. "Did you take these pictures?" He dropped the raunchy pile on the table and Hisaya reached out to touch them, but thought better of it and retracted his hands. The two Inspectors had been in a heated argument before they had left their office; Noboru was convinced that Hisaya was innocent, a valuable witness. Mamoru felt that it was far too early in the investigation to make any assumptions about people's innocence. Especially if they were complete strangers to you.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Erm, about three months ago. It was the last assignment I did on her."
"Why was it the last one? I understand that these sort of pictures are very valuable." Fearful green eyes implored Noboru to understand.
"She saw me, she saw me with my camera right there, but she didn't leave, she didn't stop. She called me a few days later to ask when I would release the pictures - God knows how she got my number - and I told her that I wouldn't. And ever since then, we struck up some sort of friendsh-, well no, not friendship, but an acquaintance. Meeting for coffee, that sort of thing."

The photographer reached for a pack of cigarettes and lit one. It didn't succeed in making him calmer, but at least it gave him something to occupy his hands with. Noboru fought the urge to reach out and touch the man's shoulder in a gesture of compassion. He seemed so young, so vulnerable. But he had come here as a Inspector, not as a private person, so he pressed on.
"Were you ever to her penthouse?" It was a loaded question: if Hisaya Nigoshi said no, and the blonde hair the forensic people found matched his DNA, he was done for. The photographer gulped.
"Several times." The Inspectors glanced at each other before Noboru continued the questioning. Mamoru leaned forward and observed. They were close.
"Can you identify this man?" Noboru pointed to the man in the pictures and the atmosphere tensed.
Hisaya nodded. "Yes, I can. His name is Kaitou Ace, Minako stopped seeing him a few weeks after she caught me photographing the two of them together."
"Was he upset?"
"Very much so, he was fucking raging. He went completely mental, came to her penthouse and hammered on the door for hours." Hisaya took a deep drag on his cigarette and stared at the wall behind Noboru's head. Several paintings adorned it, all of the cheap variety that you could buy in packs.
"Did Miss Aino tell you that?" His eyes snapped back to Noboru.
"Yes. She thought it was funny. She did have a bit of a cruel streak, as far as I can tell she didn't invest into relationships emotionally. It seemed that Ace didn't catch on until it was too late."
"Do you know where we can find him?" It was the first time that Mamoru had spoken, and Noboru frowned. He would have saved this question for much later, but his partner was growing impatient.
Hisaya shook his head.
"Look, I'm sorry, but I have no idea where he lives. I don't even know what he's doing for a living, and I don't think Minako knew that, either. From what she told me, they didn't talk much."
Distaste flashed in Mamoru's features. He had much preferred Ami's reluctance when it came to talking about Aino's love life. Some things deserved to be protected, but Hisaya Nigoshi seemed more than ready to spill the beans, which didn't come as a surprise given his profession. Something in his eyes told Mamoru that the photographer enjoyed this sort of gossip; he relished it.

They left the café in silence and didn't speak until they reached their car. Noboru took the driver's seat.
"If you ask me, he's our man," Mamoru said as soon as they slammed their respective doors shut.
Staring straight ahead, Noboru started the engine and manoeuvred their car out of the parking space. He didn't answer, but bit down on his bottom lip instead. He always did that when he was succumbing to a state of aggravation, but Mamoru felt that they were in a critical phase in their investigation, so they didn't have the time to wait until Noboru got over his bitch mood.
"He admitted that he had been to the penthouse, he was the reason why she and her boyfriend broke up and he looks like a haunted man. And why should have a popstar befriended a paparazzi? He made it sound like it was her that wanted to keep in touch, not him. Doesn't make any sense. He's guilty. And what's up with that flashy notebook he carries around with him? Did you notice how nervous he got when I looked at it?"
"Mamoru, I'm driving."
"We've been partners for five years, it would be news to me that you couldn't drive and listen at the same time."
"Shut up, there's ice on the road."
"We have our man."
"You only want him to be our man because you want Setsuna Meioh to be innocent. Turn on the heater, it's fucking freezing in here."
"Why do I care if Meioh is guilty?"
"Don't play dumb with me."
"Forget Meioh. Hisaya Nigoshi is Aino's murderer. Why do you care so much about that man? It's not like you to get this involved."
Noboru ignored the question and focused on the traffic, letting the conversation die then and there on the iced roads leading to the still deserted city centre.

Hisaya Nigoshi hadn't had much luck in the past weeks, his days as a golden boy were obviously over. The doorman of Minako Aino's building had testified that he had seen him leave the building in the night of the murder at about 3.30 am. Mamoru had been jubilant and went in for an endless and hard interrogation that left the photographer in tears. However, he stuck to the story that he had only entered the penthouse after Aino had already been dead. He claimed to have been too afraid to call the police. When Mamoru asked him why he hadn't told them that when they had met in the café, Hisaya had given him a look of such contempt that it cut through most of Mamoru's defences.
"Because you had it in for me the minute you walked through that door."
Even Mamoru had to admit that this was true.

The prosecutor issued a detention order, and the bars closed behind Hisaya.
Noboru smashed every single coffee mug in their office when he heard the news, unwilling to believe the younger man's guilt. He couldn't explain why he cared so much, but he did.

The Inspectors were sitting in their office in what could only be described as sullen silence, one trying to find further evidence for Nigoshi's guilt, the other one desperately looking for proof on the man's innocence. It was Hisaya's third day in prison and some subtle enquiring had led Noboru to believe that the young man would not last the week. He was simply too pretty.
Their phone began to ring (they had put it on the floor to have more room on their adjoining desks for paperwork) and Noboru gave it a kick that propelled it into Mamoru's direction.
"You're behaving like a child."
"Fuck you."
After shooting his colleague a dark look, Mamoru picked the receiver up.
"Inspector Chiba."
When Noboru heard the sound of a pen scratching on paper, he looked up. Mamoru was writing down an address, and slammed the receiver down.
"There is another one."
Both men jumped up, grabbing their coats as they went. They arrived at the crime scene fifteen minutes later, and only after he walked through the doors, did Mamoru notice whose house he had just entered.

End of Chapter Three.