Chapter Four

Another dead girl on a bed, but she looked nothing like Minako Aino in her final minutes.
Sweet, innocent Ami Mizuno.
In a bid to keep his head clear, Noboru began to compile a list of differences between the two crime scenes.
For one, Ami was dressed. She wore a blue-striped silk pyjama, reading glasses and a look of shock etched into her face. Her apartment was pristine, only a shattered tea cup next to her nightstand disrupted the order. The fireplace was glowing brightly, telling tales of a young woman living alone who had followed all her nightly rituals and had been interrupted by her murderer. Next to her dead body rested the book she had been reading. Sweet, innocent Ami Mizuno had read Harry Potter. They copy was well used, the spine glued back togethr. She must have devoured it religiously, and now it would never be read again. It was this detail that tore through the haze that had engulfed Mamoru like a blanket. He had expected all of Ami's books to look as if they came fresh from the printers. To see one that had obviously been read, tossed in a bag, and probably fallen into a bathtub at some point, made it all real. The haze disappeared, and the dead girl remained. Mamoru felt like screaming, but bit down on his bottom lip until he could taste blood instead.

"It's the same wound."
Words were hard to come by, so he just nodded and left the talking to his partner.
"I think we have a serial killer on our hands."
Shoving his trembling hands deep into his pockets, Mamoru tried to reconcile the image of the living Ami Mizuno with the girl lying on the pressed cotton sheets. It was impossible.
Noboru pressed on, his voice suddenly sharp. In the two days since the arrest, the two men had barely spoken. It was clear that Noboru felt betrayed because Mamoru had gone to the prosecutor behind his partner's back, and even more so when he went to their Chief Inspector to complain about it and he had told him in no uncertain terms that Mamoru had made it sound as if the decision had been made on both of their accounts.
"And since Hisaya Nigoshi is still in prison, I don't think he is our man, after all." He sought Mamoru's eyes.

It took Noboru a minute to realise his mistake. This wasn't the time for hurt pride or accusations; Mamoru had known Ami Mizuno, had even been friends with her when Usagi was still alive. Embarrassed, Noboru shuffled his large feet and damned himself to hell and back for his insensitivity. Noboru cast his eyes to the floor. "Sorry, mate."
But the damage was done, the apology not enough and Mamoru Chiba just walked out of the room without sparing his partner another glance to find a moment of quiet to grieve for the girl that had played the piano on his wedding day.

There were two reactions to opening your front door and finding yourself face to face with two police men.
There was either a nervous smile or immediate tears.

Mrs. Mizuno began to cry even before they had gotten the chance to introduce themselves.
Parents tended to do that, not because they were generally in fear for their children, but because they had a hell of a good intuition.
Ami Mizuno had been an only child, and much loved by her mother.

Mamoru saw the older woman breaking down in front of him, shattering the last shreds of his belief in humanity into a thousand little pieces. It reminded him horribly of the day he had to tell Usagi's parents that their daughter had died in a fire. Ikuko Tsukino had screamed and cried until her throat was raw and her eyes held no more tears. He was only here out of respect for Ami; it was normally Noboru's job to speak to the victim's family. Noboru had once said that he had never lost someone dear to him, so delivering bad news didn't affect him as much. It was easier to keep an emotional distance, he claimed with a shrug. More than once, Mamoru had wondered if this was actually the truth. There was a well hidden melancholy about Noboru, something you could only spot when the taller man deemed himself to be alone, unwatched and unsupervised. It occasionally lingered in his eyes, hovered on his lips, danced on his face. You needed to know it was there to spot it, but the last year had turned Mamoru into an excellent observer. If your wife died unexpectly, you either developed complete obliviousness to all of your surroundings, or you suddenly saw things in a different, albeit gloomier light.

As he held Mrs. Mizuno like a lost child, Mamoru looked at her walls and the countless pictures of the small, but undoubtedly happy family and wondered what Usagi would have had to say about her husband investigating the murder of not one, but two of her friends.

"Miss Meioh, do you know this girl?"
The picture had been taken at a charity function and showed Ami Mizuno in a peach coloured cocktail dress. The girl clutched a programme in her hands, as it were a lifeline. Ami had obviously not enjoyed the event very much, but still made an effort to smile for the camera. Her mother had raised her well.
"Hmm, can't say that I do. Why?"
"I'm the one with the badge, which means that I'm the one asking questions."
"In that case, Inspector Sanjoin, please do continue." The sarcasm was so strong that it seemed to drip from Setsuna Meioh's words right on the expensive carpet. As most decorative objects in the office, it was of a deep red colour.
Bitch, Noboru thought emphatically. That woman was so used to things going her way, it irritated the living daylight out of him. He briefly wondered how she and Aino had gotten along. Noboru remembered how Aino's mother had told him story after story about her daughter's impossible stubbornness.
"Are you sure you haven't seen her? Because she was at Minako Aino's funeral and according to my partner, so were you."
"You didn't ask whether I have seen her, you just asked me whether or not I know her. And I don't." The statement was followed by an ironic little smile, and for the first time Noboru wished that he could get away with beating suspects into a bloody pulp.
"She was friends with your boss."
"Minako's private life was of little importance to me." This time the forensic people had found nothing, not even a smidgen of skin. If Setsuna Meioh had been to Ami Mizuno's house, they couldn't prove it.
"What about this girl?"
Were Mamoru ever to find out that he was showing Usagi's picture around, he would throw a fit. There were few things Noboru had never told his partner, but the fact that he had always doubted that Usagi Chiba's death had been an accident was one of them. Usagi was clumsy, but not clumsy enough to accidentally burn her house to the ground while being in it. Now two friends of the young woman were dead, both killed in the middle of the night, around the same time the Chibas' house with Usagi in it had burnt down. Noboru was quite sure that Mamoru had not yet caught on to the almost identical times of death, and as of now, he had no intention of alerting him to it. There was a connection between the death of Usagi and that of her friends, Noboru felt it in his bones.

But there was also another reason why Noboru had opted to interrogate Setsuna Meioh on his own: he feared that Mamoru and Meioh would continue this strange flirtatious dance, and that was something Noboru wasn't interested in seeing. While he was happy to see that his friend displayed an interest into women again, he wished he would choose someone who was a little bit nicer. Someone who could make him happy, like Usagi had been able to. The woman sitting in front of him was not made for happiness, she was all business and no fun.

When Setsuna gingerly took the picture from his hands, Noboru suddenly felt himself growing cold. Her expression changed into one that was almost tender. On her sardonic face, it was scary. His heartbeat sped up as he waited for her answer.
"Yes, I know her. Her name is Bunny, she visited Minako quite often. She came to recordings, shootings, that sort of thing. I don't know how often she met Minako outside of work, but I dare say they spend a lot of time together. Sweet girl, I like her. Enormous appetite." Setsuna chuckled. "She hasn't been around for some time, I did wonder if she and Minako had a falling out. But then they always got on like a house on fire." Noboru felt the air leave his lungs, but either he covered his distress very well or Setsuna was oblivious. She smoothed her hair, looked at the photo one more time and then handed it back to him. "How is she?"

Present tense. Goosebumps prickled on Noboru's skin. He would have accused Setsuna Meioh of lying in an instant, but not on this matter. The manager had no idea that Usagi had been dead for well over a year. He forced himself to speak.
"When did you last see her?"
"I don't remember, must have been some time ago."
"Can you check?" The urgency in his voice caused her to drop her reluctance and she moved.

She got up, went to her desk, opened a small drawer and flicked through an old diary of hers. When she finally named a date, Noboru closed his eyes and prayed for the first time since his grandmother died.

At the same time, Mamoru went to visit Hisaya Nigoshi in his cell. The image of Ami's lifeless body took all the pleasure from seeing the photographer behind bars. Instead, he felt his temper rise.
"Who is your accomplice? Why Ami Mizuno? WHY?"

"I- wait, what? I don't have an accomplice, I'm innocent! I don't even know who Ami Mizuno is!"
"LIAR," roared Mamoru. His voice resonated in the narrow cell, bouncing of the walls in an echo of untamed rage.
"So someone else died? But see, I was in here, it couldn't have been me, I'm innocent! I swear!"

Mamoru changed the topic. He couldn't leave Nigoshi with time to think, he needed to outsmart him and trick him into showing his true colours. Noboru seemed to think that the younger man was as innocent as a schoolboy, but Mamoru didn't think so. He knew better.
"What reason would Aino have to seek your company? You followed her, you harassed her!" After a minute, Mamoru took a step closer to the prisoner. His voice turned low, dangerous. For a brief moment, Hisaya wished he would shout again.
"Did you fuck her? Did you blackmail her into being with you? I reckon those pictures you took proved to be some very good leverage against her. You're a piece of dirt, Nigoshi, and you know it."
And then there it was, right there in his eyes, precisely what Mamoru had been waiting for. The look of fear had left Hisaya's face and was replaced by one of cold fury. Mamoru had seen this look on many men, it was the look of a man who knew what murder felt like. Hisaya mimicked Mamoru's earlier movement and closed the distance between the two of them. They were almost nose to nose, and the cell's temperature seemed to rise.
"I never touched her, not in this lifetime and not in any other. Even if I had been interested, which, for the record, I'm not, I wouldn't have dared to touch her. I'm not suicidal." A bitter laugh escaped the blonde man and he fell silent. Mamoru missed the brief flicker of confusion in Hisaya's eyes, as if the words he had spoken had not made any sense. But the young man was quick on his feet and continued, brushing over his puzzlement in a heartbeat. "And whether I'm a piece of dirt or not is not up to you to judge because as far as these murders are concerned, I'm innocent. And now you better get out of here or you get my lawyer in."
"Are you threatening me?"
"We both know you're not supposed to question me unless there is a lawyer in this room and believe me, I won't hesitate for one second to file a complaint against you."
"I know a murderer when I see one."
Hisaya laughed. "Congratulations. Then all you need to do is find some solid proof and since I haven't killed Minako, that won't happen."
"We'll see about that."
Mamoru turned and left, hearing the doors slide shut behind him. He wished he could have slammed them.

When he got home that night, his answering machine blinked.
"Inspector Chiba, this is Setsuna Meioh. I wanted to tell you that I'm very sorry for your loss, I only heard about it today. I realise the circumstances are less than ideal, but there is no time like the present and if you are free, I would love to have dinner with you sometime. You know how to contact me."
Looking at the dark sky and the full moon, Mamoru hesitated for a minute before dialling.

There was nothing tender about their coming together. He had her undressed before they had even reached her bedroom, and she egged him on in that low, dark voice of hers. Setsuna's lipstick was all over his collar, and she made sure that his clothes joined hers on the floors not long after. Her olive skin glinted in the moonlight, and her brown eyes gleamed crimson. She was a thing of beauty, a thing of the night. She was just as wrong as she was beautiful, and Mamoru loved it. For the first time in ages, he felt free. He slid the condom on and threw her on the bed. She laughed and beckoned him to follow her, and when he did, her slender arms encircled him and pressed him deep inside. Time and time again, her long fingernails drew blood on his back, and Mamoru revelled in the pain until the sun rose.

End of Chapter Four.