Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.
Summary: L is almost 17, investigating a serial murder case near Toronto University. Undercover as a student prodigy, L will have to find a balance between education, investigation, and (ye gods) a social life. Rated T for language/nudity/gore.
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Our authorities as far as I know, and I only know the lowest grades, don't go out looking for guilt among the public; it's the guilt that draws them out
– excerpt from The Trial, Franz Kafka
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The Worst Feeling Ever
Chapter 7: Sneaker Wave
Pallid morning light peeked from between clouds. The bare floor was cool beneath his feet as he paced.
"Yes, hence my concern. Since they were both dropped simultaneously, it means the culprit is likely not working alone. It is an important clue. Unfortunately – hm?"
"You haven't seen them yet, I take it?"
"No, I have not. I would have informed you of such a development first."
"Alright then. I'll go over the back-up images for last night in the area you've specified. Once I've got an image, I'll send the encrypted file your way."
"Thank you." L terminated the call, confident that Watari would find what he needed quickly. Two body parts dropped at the same time – it breaks the pattern, L thought, and what's more, if the order of the parts is significant, we will need to determine where the parts fall in the sequence. Hopefully there will be a slight time difference to distinguish them.
Rubbing his face with one hand, L tried to decide which crime scene to visit first. He knew he needed to see both, but he couldn't make his presence obvious at either location since that would raise suspicion – he'd already been present shortly after the blood drop and couldn't afford to draw more attention to himself. L yawned, stretching his back until it popped and then bending to hide his phone in its usual spot. Staying up all night was typical for him, but he felt tired for reasons he could not quite grasp. He'd seen the severed hand tumble from a tree just before the first light of dawn, with no person anywhere in sight, and the oddness of it had shaken the exhaustion from him for awhile, but now it was back. L supposed that he just needed more coffee and some food to more fully revive him. At the thought, his eyes flew wide.
"Cake!" Unconcerned that he was shouting in an otherwise empty room, L felt stricken that he had actually forgotten something – and not just anything, but the prospect of receiving a home-baked cake from Gellie. He still didn't have her phone number, to his dismay, and he wondered when his memory retention had become so disastrous. Quickly going over the status of every aspect of the case as things stood now, L determined that he would have enough time to get to Gellie's place and even swing by both crime scenes before his first class started if he left immediately.
L powered down his computer and launched himself at the door, keys jingling in his pocket, his newfound energy somehow going unnoticed in his rush.
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Rubbing the crusty bits from his eyes, he remained innocent of his situation for a few more seconds, sunlight slanting across an unfamiliar bedspread. Then he remembered.
"Oh, bloody hell." Aleister swung his head, squinting as he took in the room: two beds, one TV, a pair of almost-but-not-quite-closed curtains, and apparently only one occupant: himself. Spying a scrawled note on the tiny table wedged between the two beds, he reached for it, snagging the remote as well. Adjusting his position from propped up to sitting up, Aleister read the note.
Dear Ally-oop –
Went out for some snacks. Back before you read this probably.
The Beeb
Aleister rolled his eyes, crumpling the note and lobbing it back onto the table. He must have planned this, he thought. He did sleep most of the way once I took over the driving, so staying up all night or getting up early would have been no hardship for him. Trying not to contemplate what Beyond might procure as "snacks," Aleister flicked on the TV and selected a network channel.
". . . and police have confirmed that these latest discoveries are considered to be included in the ongoing Missing Parts case. No word yet on any suspects, but according to police sources, they are interviewing several persons of interest. In other news, native son Mike Myers is returning to –"
Aleister clicked over to a national news channel. Can't believe we missed the Toronto International Film Festival by a whole week, he thought sullenly.
"Back to our top story, two additional body parts have been found in the Toronto Missing Parts case. Police have yet to confirm which parts were found, but this brings the count up to sixteen as of this morning. As you heard when we broke this story, the Chief of Police admitted that the drop-off of two different parts in two different locations at the same time is a, quote, 'new and disturbing trend.' Stay tuned for a panel discussion of this case with several experts in the fields of psychology, forensics, and law enforcement, coming up within the hour. And after the break, we'll tell you about the plight of a bear that seems to have lost its way –"
Brow furrowing, Aleister switched to another network.
". . . and that's why you should never put a baby in the toilet! Tom?"
Expression now a grimace, Aleister clicked away from the morning show to another news network.
". . . sunny for a few more days at least, so enjoy it while you can! Back to you, Maureen."
"Thanks, Jim. In international news, we –" The newswoman stopped, a tiny crease splitting her brow as she appeared to focus on something off-camera. "I'm . . . I'm being told we have an urgent broadcast. It's – we're switching to it now."
The screen went black for a moment and was then invaded by an image of a white dove carrying the scales of justice. Aleister groaned, the hand holding the remote falling limply at his side.
"Greetings and salutations to you all once more. Rather than trouble the Chief of Police, I thought I'd get my announcement more directly to the people of Toronto, and indeed, the world. This, of course, is Eraldo Coil. I imagine you're all abuzz with the news of the two latest discoveries of body parts in Toronto. However, I've been expecting such a development, and what's more, it really changes nothing – except for the fact that this tells me the murderer is getting impatient. Our petty little butcher is so eager to give us his precious puzzle pieces that he's forgetting to keep the big picture a mystery. You also made a truly egregious error on thirteen, little butcher, so thank you for that. And seeing as we're so chummy now, I don't mind telling you something in return: despite your efforts to disguise this, several of the body parts you've left have shown evidence of having been frozen. The leg was the worst of these, with a clear freezer burn mark – how you managed to overlook that, I've no idea. Yet some of the parts were quite fresh. As I'm sure you know, in any murder case, the time of death is as important as the cause. All of these clues – the ones you meant to leave, and the ones you didn't – are filling out your puzzle far sooner than you'd planned. We are closing in on you. Consequently, I implore you: don't give us any more clues. Really. We have enough now, so just keep the rest of your messy little puzzle pieces in the freezer. We'll come to collect them, and you, soon enough. Thank you once again to the police for their invaluable assistance and to the people of Toronto for their patience. Adieu!"
The dove image faded to black, breaking into snow before the news studio popped back into view. Aleister turned the TV off. "Fucking tosser."
" . . . henh, henh, henh!"
Aleister jumped. Frowning, he bounced on the bed until it creaked. "Get out from there, you bastard!"
"Ow! Hey, quit bouncing." Beyond scrabbled out from under Aleister's bed, making crinkling noises as he emerged, glaring.
"And just how long were you planning on staying hidden?"
"Just long enough." Beyond gave Aleister a rakish grin from his position on all fours between the beds. "Here." He reached down and tossed something upward.
Aleister caught the package. "Billot Logs?" He regarded the cylindrical pink cakes encased in plastic with distaste. "So you had time for your errand after all, did you?"
"Of course I did. I told you in the note I'd be back before you read it." Beyond squatted on the carpet, munching away on a Big Turk, chocolate smearing his fingers.
"Well, at least it saves me the trouble of having to go find you." Aleister placed the packaged snack on his lap, undecided as to whether he intended to attempt to eat it. "What did you think of the edict from Monsieur Pomposite'?"
"Henh, henh." Chewing muffled Beyond's voice. "He's bluffing. I bet the killer knows it, too. He should have tried a different tactic this time – pretended to suck up to him, maybe. It would have been just as transparent as his pathetic empty threats, but it might have made the killer second-guess himself a little."
"Hm. I'm not sure I agree, though I'll gladly concede that the threats were tiresome and pointless. Odds are he'll induce the murderer to take more lives as a consequence, and while I can only hope that was not his intention . . . we do know what we're dealing with here." Aleister rolled his eyes. "Something Coil said bothered me . . ."
"Just one thing?" Beyond cocked an eyebrow.
"Well, all of it was awful, but . . . he mentioned the clues: 'the ones you meant to leave, and the ones you didn't.' He really didn't make it clear whether he meant that there were clues found that the murderer didn't intend to leave, or that the absence of certain clues was a clue itself."
"I doubt Coil thought it through that much – he probably meant the clues the killer left unintentionally. And he could easily be wrong or bluffing about that too."
"I agree that that is the more likely scenario in terms of what Coil meant to say, but that just makes me wonder if the other explanation is therefore more apt." Aleister traced his jaw with a knuckle.
"You mean you think Coil might have accidentally said something smart?" Beyond snickered. "Or do you think Coil intentionally left it vague to send a message to the killer?"
"Well . . . we've no evidence that L hasn't fed Coil any ideas, directly or indirectly."
"Ha! L wouldn't help Coil. He hates that guy." Beyond finished his candy bar and reached for a bag of ketchup chips.
"Acute dislike would not prevent L from using Coil to send his own message, if he thought it would gain results."
"Yeah, yeah. I see what you're saying. It's just . . . none of this feels like L's style. I think Coil announcing first threw L off his game. Hell, he was so pissy about it, he didn't even bother to announce after that. I wish I could have seen his face . . ."
"We've no idea what his reaction was." Aleister felt his cheeks warming. "I've no doubt he was less than pleased, but he certainly would have had other reasons –"
"Oh please!" Beyond threw a discarded wrapper at Aleister's head, chewing with his mouth open. "Whatever 'reasons' L had were inventions – pretty lies to protect his ego. And we know his reaction was bad just based on what Roger said on the phone to –"
"That isn't proof of anything, and you know it."
"Chill out, Ally-oop – I would have done exactly what L did, just to spite Coil. You know that guy's floundering on his own. His last few 'successes' resulted from competing with L for clues and stealing his ideas. He's forgotten how to solve things on his own, if he ever knew. I'd keep my mouth shut and let Coil fail, just like L's doing. And then," Beyond linked his thumbs together and flapped his hands, "I'd swoop in and solve the case, rubbing it in that dumb fuck's face for all the world to see!"
"I'm not convinced that matches L's 'master plan.' Regardless," Aleister dropped the droll tone and leveled a stern look at Beyond, "we've got to get going on our own plan before he tracks us down."
"L won't come looking for us." Beyond crunched through the last of his chips.
"Don't be so sure. He undoubtedly knows we're here or en route at least –"
"Oh, undoubtedly." Beyond mocked. "He won't look for us because he doesn't care. He'll expect 'Watari' to handle it for him, to sweep us back under the rug of the orphanage. As long as we stay ahead of the old guy, we can pretty much do what we want."
Aleister looked at his hands, still toying with the wrapper of the snack cakes in his lap. He hated arguing with Beyond – it never seemed to get them anywhere, and even when Beyond was wrong, he'd never admit it. Worse, Beyond was often right, and Aleister felt his resolve slip a little more each time Beyond beat him to the truth of a matter. "Is the variety of snacks you acquired limited to candy, cakes, and whatever those malodorous crunchy bits were?"
"Henh, henh – I also scored a bag of pork rinds, but if you thought the chips were 'malodorous,' I doubt you'll like those." Beyond reached under the bed with both arms, dragging out a pile of packages and poking through them with a finger. "You haven't even tried the jelly rolls I gave you – I figured you'd like those better than these." He held up a bag imprinted with the name "Beaver Droppings."
"Charming."
"They're just some kind of maple candy. Anyway, I figure if you just line up your pink cakes end-to-end, you'd want to put them in your mouth. Just imagine that they're Mr. Wonderful's –"
Aleister's foot shot out and caught Beyond in the mouth. "Shut it."
Beyond, now leaning against the other bed, rubbed his jaw, staring up at Aleister, his dark eyes dancing. For once, he was quiet. Aleister was the only real friend Beyond had, and they both knew it. Though debate was a staple of their relationship, they rarely fought with intent to harm. Aleister almost never resorted to physical violence – he'd only ever hit Beyond with any force on the first day they'd met – but he didn't believe for a second that Beyond was at all threatened. If it came down to it, Beyond would certainly win any physical conflict: he was bigger, and stronger, and he'd shown his zeal for inflicting pain when facing off with certain others at Wammy House. Must be something in my tone that's got him staring, Aleister thought, his glare unbroken.
Throwing aside the covers, Aleister brought both his legs around, disrupting Beyond's pile of snacks with his feet as he walked past. "I'm showering. Do what you want."
Aleister shut the bathroom door with some force, locking it, not that that would keep Beyond out if he truly wanted in. He hoped that the warm water would soothe him enough to help him more gracefully endure Beyond's inevitable taunting. Because if he couldn't endure, if they couldn't work together, then they had made a very long trip for nothing.
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The single spot of red on the wood floor had been more disquieting than the absence of occupants or the remains of the cake mashed into a corner. L wished that he had had more time to examine the rowhouse before the police had arrived, but much more than that, he wished that he had visited Gellie yesterday as he had promised.
L crouched near the front door, hands cuffed behind his back as a uniformed officer eyed him from across the room. The walkie-talkie at the man's hip crackled, transmitting a voice: "We're clear. Heading back."
Footsteps came from two directions as one man descended the stairs and another re-entered via the back door. L watched them emerge into the room, doing his best to absorb every detail.
"Anything?" asked the officer who had been waiting in the front room.
Officer Maulty ignored the man entirely and walked straight to L. "I knew you were suspicious the first time I saw you. Now why the hell are you here?"
"It is as I told you. Gellie made a cake for me as a thank you for finding her cat, and I came by to pick it up from her. When I found her door unlocked, I entered to discover a mess in the kitchen and no one at home. As I reached for the phone to call the police, you arrived. Do you believe that Gellie is in danger?"
"I ask the questions, smart guy," Maulty growled.
"Is the detective inbound?" The police officer who'd gone upstairs leveled a reproachful look at Maulty.
"Not yet. We don't know if any of this is connected anyway."
"If it is, it could break the case." The officer behind Maulty spoke again, echoing L's thoughts.
"We'll call him when we're ready. There's no rush – you're not going anywhere, right buddy?" Maulty's eyes glittered as he looked down at L.
"I have not done anything wrong. I am concerned for my friend, and I'm certainly not leaving while I am handcuffed."
"Good plan." Maulty bent, staring back into L's eyes. "Here's a question: why did you kill the fucking cat?"
L's eyes widened. "Someone killed Lucy?"
"Yeah. It's in the backyard. There's barely enough room for two flower pots and a lawn chair back there, so it's hard to miss. Were you trying to make some kind of statement?"
L allowed a crease to bisect his brow. "I did not harm Gellie's cat either. It does beg the question, though . . ."
"What question is that?"
"The one you asked, of course: Why kill the cat? Or more to the point, why kill it and leave it here? It only draws attention to the scene. Without that and the mess in the kitchen, Gellie's disappearance could otherwise be written off as non-suspicious, causing a delay in the search for her. Whoever did this staged the area intentionally, either as a diversion or, as you suggest, to make a statement. But it is unclear what the statement would be, based on –"
"Stop pretending you know nothing about this!" Maulty interrupted, straightening up and glaring. "We caught you red-handed! Just admit what you did, and we'll go easier on you."
"Don't be absurd." L's eyelids dropped to half-mast, the joy of theorizing gone. "I have already told you the truth. Also, I could not have abducted Gellie and still been here for you to find. You are placing what you wish to believe above the evidence of this case."
The other two officers raised their eyebrows, and Maulty advanced on L, grabbing his collar and pulling him up. "You little prick. You know way too much about this not to be involved. You were there at the blood drop and now you're here? No way that's a coincidence. I'm gonna find out what you did, and I'm gonna nail you to the fucking wall." Maulty let go of L's pale blue shirt and turned away. "Call him."
The officer who had searched upstairs nodded and spoke into his walkie-talkie. "This is Harnett on-site at a b&e with suspicious circumstances, possible connection to MPK. We're gonna need an evidence recovery team ASAP, and get Detective Devall over here."
"Got it, Harnett," the walkie-talkie crackled back. "You there with Maulty?"
"Yeah, and Drummond," Harnett responded. "Plus one suspect in custody."
"Understood. A team's on its way." The crackling came to a stop.
As uncomfortable as L was with his current circumstances, he reasoned that he was now in a position to learn more about the internal processes the police were following pursuant to the Butcher murders. The more I understand about what they're doing, L thought, the better able I will be to discern what they may have missed. Silently waiting for their inevitable departure, L scanned the room once more, taking care not to move his eyes too much.
An abduction didn't fit the Butcher's MO, but thus far, only the results of the murderer's deeds had come to light – it was possible that he abducted all of his victims this way and this was merely the first time they'd found the connection. One difference was key: not that L himself was connected to Gellie – no one could know that – but the cat. It is possible that the Butcher knew that the cat had picked up evidence of his crimes, L thought, remembering the finger bone. But killing the cat would be pointless, since the killer would not have found the bone here . . .
L went cold. I endangered her, he thought. I endangered Gellie by bringing her cat back to her. I should have let it go immediately and had Watari process the evidence without ever involving her. Striving to keep his face blank under Maulty's watchful eye, L felt the guilt wash over him and found himself wishing for anger instead. He no longer had room in his head to regret the cake he would never taste.
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You do not do, you do not do anymore, black shoe, but I have never lived inside of you. The game's the thing, and everything is the game – intermission is well behind us now, yet the well is not nearly dry. But the hound, the hound, he does astound, and may his foolishness abound! He thinks I'm making a puzzle intact, when I am about to play Scrabble, in fact. It is all starting to feel too easy – I can barely muster the verve to serve.
I see the paw of the pawn is snapped in the trap. How long before the puppy comes poking? The sweetest fake was his mistake, and such a gift he gave me in return. Her guileless eyes, never seeing to see, never seeming to be, each step a new misfortune, an echo of my hidden prize. Seems a pity to waste the part – a scrap of meat could draw his hunger, and all puppies need to feed . . .
No amount of truth can save the lies we rely on, but I must try. Too much is at stake not to ease this ache, and the game within the game must bear fresh fruit or we will all grow hungry.
As I slip, again, the barb wire snare, I will set my board for all the illiterati to see. I know what it is that men are most afraid of, and I will take that new step, utter that new word, and they will not dare to steal my playthings.
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Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. [UPDATED: Apparently ffnet has taken to swallowing my linebreaks between sections, so hopefully the new obnoxious ones I put in has fixed that – otherwise, the continuity's messed up, grr.] I wanted to post this sooner, but a bunch of Real Life™ stuff came up. I've now got a wedding and a funeral to go to soon (please, no romcom jokes), so my next update may be a teence delayed too. Once I get back into the swing of things, I should be able to complete chapters more regularly. Here's hoping, anyway.
Some darker turns coming in this. Don't you just want to slap the shit out of Coil? ^_^ I know I do, but that's part of the fun writing him.
Just FYI, although the exact ages are never spelled out in Another Note, for the purposes of my fic(s), Aleister is about 8 months younger than L, and Beyond is about 10 months younger than Aleister.
Thanks for reading!