Chapter XXVIII: Open and Shut

I was jolted awake several hours later to loud, crashing noises and voices. I jumped off the couch and walked over to the door on back wall. I pressed my ear to the door. I could hear Mello's voice shouting, but I couldn't make out anything of what he was saying. I heard Caroline stir from behind me.

"What's going on?" she said.

"I don't know."

I pressed the talk button on the intercom and spoke in to the microphone.

"Mello?" I said. "Roger? Is everything okay?"

I waited a few moments, but I didn't hear a response. I decided to investigate for myself. The doors into the back of the house were locked and equipped with alarms, so I walked to the front door and stepped out. The front lawn was quiet. I could hear shouting around back. I ran around to the side, through a path lined with trees, and into a garden. It was filled with ivy-covered trees and a menagerie of flowers. The entire thing was surrounded by a huge hedge forming a barrier. And the center, was a fountain in the shape of a globe, with water flowing from the top. I ducked into some rosebushes that were growing against the back wall of the house. I peered out over the top.

I saw Mello walk out into my view, brandishing a handgun. I looked out near the back wall of the hedge. I saw the silhouette of a person, beginning to vanish away. The person began to fire, and Mello immediately returned fire. He took cover behind a tree, only a hundred or so feet away from me. The fire fight continued mercilessly. I heard a rush of air and the heat of a bullet flying almost directly above my head. I decided it was time to go back inside, I was unarmed and vulnerable out here. I crept away around the corner and started running back down the path lined with trees. I turned the corner around to the front of the house and ran up to the front door.

As I walked in, Caroline got her feet in anxiety.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Mello's having a shoot out with somebody," I said. "I don't know who."

"I heard bangs and stuff," she said. "I'm really worried. Is he hurt? Why would someone shoot at him?"

"I don't know," I said.

And then, I noticed it. All of the doors now had green lights lit on them. I walked over to the one on the back wall. I placed my hand on the handle and applied pressure. My heart fluttered when the door gave way and opened slightly.

"What are you doing?" Caroline whispered.

"I'll be right back," I whispered back. "Stay here."

I slowly and quietly entered the dim corridor, and shut the door quietly behind me. I crept down the hallway, quiet as the grave. My heart was pounding. I didn't know what Mello would do if he caught me, but I didn't imagine it to be anything good. But I needed to know what was going on. As I got closer to the end, I found one door that was slightly ajar. I peered through the sliver of an entryway, trying to see if anyone was inside. I couldn't see anybody, but I was unable to see the corners. It was a gamble, but I decided to risk it. I pushed the door open softly.

I was alone. The room was small, most of the space taken up by bookshelves. In the corner was a desk with a computer. On the desk was also a newspaper clipping. I picked it up. It was an obituary page. The paper had been folded to display precisely one in particular:

Mei-Yu Chang-Blackthrone passed away this last Saturday of pneumonia. The wife of famed entrepreneur David James Blackthorne, she'd had a long battle with Alzheimer's, and suffered a tragedy with the death of her son and beloved social worker, Mitchell Adam Blackthorne (who was widely believed to be murdered by Kira after he was indicted on charges for sexual misconduct with a minor. Official confirmation has yet to be released) She is survived by her husband and daughter, Morgan Anne Blackthorne. She was 64 years old.

Near the computer monitor, I saw a framed photo. I picked it up and looked at it. The picture was of a woman, who appeared to be in her mid to late twenties. She was pale and had a number of freckles on her face, and her hair was jet-black, curly, and cropped short to her chin. In the photo, she was wearing what looked like a very fashionable top. She was smiling; it was definitely a candid shot. I put the picture down, and then I saw a piece of paper that had been sitting under it. It was old and worn. I picked it up and unfolded it.

Morgan,

I miss you. Things are not going well, but I may come by to visit if I can. I'm sorry I haven't been able to call you. I never say this enough, but I do love you, and my bed is so much emptier without you in it. Sorry, I'm not very skilled in emoting.

Stay safe.

Yours,

L. Lawliet

L Lawliet? The same L who had been our mentor, our idol, the person we were groomed to become? Had L been involved the same Morgan Blackthorne mentioned in the obituary? What did Mello and Near have to do with her? It seemed that now, all the answers rested with this Morgan. I turned my attentions to the computer. I opened the main hard drive folder and ran a search for "kira". And I found it. A huge document file. The Kira case file. I attempted to open it. It asked for a password. I entered the name "Watari" and it worked. I was rather shocked that Mello had picked such a stupid password, but I was thankful that he made my job easier by doing so.

The file was enormous, and I knew I didn't have time to read it here. I pushed print and watched as a stream of papers spilled out of the printer under the desk. I gathered them quickly. But just as soon as I had finished stacking them in order, I heard a door down the hall open and shut. And then I heard footsteps. I realized, then and there, I had lingered there far too long. I scrambled, putting the printed case file under the desk. I hurried to close the window I had been using to view and print the case file. I put the computer's desktop back exactly as it had been. My heart was pounding in my ears as I heard footsteps get closer. I rolled swiftly under the desk and out of sight, covering my mouth with my hand to mask the sound of my breathing.

I saw leather boots enter the room. He stopped for a moment. I heard the sound of a voice on a cell phone.

"No, Noëlle is okay," he said. "She's a little frightened, but completely unharmed."

The voice spoke again. "I know love," he said. "Are you coming home tomorrow? We need to talk about our...unexpected guests. You are? Good, because I miss you. How was the funeral?" I heard a few moments of sound come from the phone.

"I'm sure it's difficult, and your situation makes it especially hard, I think."

Then it hit me. Morgan Blackthorne was Mello's wife. And yet I had found that letter to her from L, talking about love and such...did Mello know? He would have to, the letter was lying out in plain sight...

"I'll talk to you in the morning. I love you," he said. "Okay. Bye."

Then, he suddenly turned his attentions over to the computer.

"What the fuck is this shit?" he said. "Fuck! That fucking bloodsucker!" I heard a button click.

"Watari," he said. "Whoever that was managed to access the case file and print it. So we can safely assume that they don't know about the notebook. Well, they know now. Make sure the notebook is secured at all times. We can't risk it falling into the wrong hands."

What notebook? I felt slightly relieved that he didn't know it was me, but I was still scared as hell. All he would have to do is walk out into the front room and see that I was not there, and then realize I had been snooping. I saw him turn and walk out of the room quickly. I waited until I heard him enter another room and shut the door. I scrambled up and ran as quietly as I could, clutching the file, back to the front room. I tried to open the door. My stomach sank. The door was locked again. I turned around and then my heart just about flipped over.

There, attached to the ceiling, was the glint of a surveillance camera. I dropped to my knees and started breathing heavily. It was recorded that I had been back here and that I had stolen the file. I thought at first about putting the file back, maybe try to show them I hadn't read it. But I knew that they would see me take it in the first place, and they would know the only reason I was giving it back was because I knew I was caught. I thought about running away, but I had no vehicle, let alone a place to go. I had exhausted all of my safe havens. I knew the only way I could get away with this, assuming I could even get out, was to destroy the surveillance equipment. Because there was no disturbance, nobody trying to find me and stop me, the cameras must have been recording, not streaming live.

I tucked the file under my arm and continued down the hallway some, taking great care in being quiet while passing the room Mello was in. I peeked into one room. It was only a study, no computers. I looked in the one across the hall, just a closet. I moved back up one on the same side. I looked inside, I saw a computer monitor. On the screen, was a feed of the camera I had just seen. I looked around and found a pot of old, cold coffee. I hastily unplugged the computer, and pulled the case out from under the desk. I opened the chassis of the computer and exposed the electronics inside. I grabbed the coffee pot and dumped its contents into the inside of the computer. I then quickly put the case back on and pushed it back under the desk. I placed the pot back on the coffee maker.

I looked back out into the hall way, looking for a way out. I walked across the hall and peered into the room; it was a bathroom. The window had been broken out. This must have been where the intruder had entered the house. The window was high up and narrow. I knew I would need the full dexterity of my hands and arms. I set the file down, and looked around for something to bind the papers. I remembered that Mello had long hair and probably wore it in a ponytail sometimes. I looked on the counter and found what I was looking for. I found a black hair-tie. I then rolled the papers into a cylinder and tied them with the hair-tie.

I climbed onto the toilet and looked through the window. It was a long way down, and I would land on some thorny rosebushes. I took the papers, and dropped them down first. They landed on the ground next to the bushes. I then began to slide myself through the window. I slid head first, trying to avoid cutting myself on the broken glass. I pulled my upper body torso out. As I was sliding my legs through I realized I should have gone feet first. I began to tumble wildly to the ground.

I landed awkwardly in the bush. Pain exploded in my head, back and right knee. My hands and arms were scraped badly. I lay there for a moment, in pain, but also in a bit of relief. I had gotten out of the hallway. All I had to do now was go around to the front of the house. I got up slowly, brushing myself off. I picked up the file and started walking back around to the front of the house. I walked up to the front door and peered through the glass. Caroline saw me and stood up. I opened the door softly and closed it behind me.

"What happened?" she said. "How did you get hurt?"

"I had to climb out of a bathroom window," I said. "But Caroline...I found something. Something huge."

I unbundled the papers and began to look through them. The information was just too incredible to believe. A notebook that kills people, gods of death wielding them, and one that fell into the hands of a deranged young man. The file revealed that Kira – Raito Yagami- had officially taken over the case as "L" after the real L had been killed. I found out that L had been killed by a death god, or shinigami, after a plan that had been hatched by Raito had come full circle. And then it mentioned Near and his group, the SPK, coming into the picture, along with Mello...and Morgan. It said very little of her except for some records of an arrest as an accomplice to Mello along with a number of fruitless interrogations.

It also mentioned her at the end of the file, with a transcript of things said during a final meeting which ended in the arrest of Raito Yagami, and ultimately his death by the hands of his own shinigami. And finally I got to see photos of the entire Japanese task force, the SPK, Morgan's mugshot, and Raito Yagami. And then the resemblance struck me.

"Is that..." I started. "Is that Thrace?"

"Sure looks like him," Caroline said. "Not surprising that two creeps would look alike."

"Oh wait," I said. "There's a couple more pages here."

I found a couple of pages in the very back. They appeared to be telephone transcripts between Morgan and Near. As I read them, I felt confusion, and then anger boil up. Certain names were blacked out in the transcript, but I could infer what was being discussed.

N: I think it's real cute how you call him -. In that sweet little soft voice of yours. I'd love to hear you say my name like that. And then, you would bite your soft little lip and stare innocently at your feet, right? And your pretty curly hair would fall over your face, so delicately.

Blackthorne: Jackass.

N: I love it when you call me that. It really turns me on.

And then further down the page...

Blackthorne: Thanks for this. You're still and incredible jackass, though.

N: And you're an ungrateful bitch. But I love you.

Blackthorne: You're a dirty little git.

N: I love it when you talk British to me. It turns me on almost as much as "jackass."

But there was one towards the top that infuriated me the most.

N: Morgan, are you alone?

Blackthorne: Not really. Are you going to come after me?

N: No, the only reason you got away is because I made it so.

Blackthorne: Look, I got to go. Thanks for busting me out, but...

N: Okay, Okay. I just want to let you know, I'm coming to Japan tomorrow. Come to room 157 at the Teito Hotel at eleven forty-seven PM. It will be just me, promise.

Why was Near meeting her in a hotel? Did he have some sort of relationship with her? The only word that came into my mind at that point was "slut." That's the only thing I could think of her. She had her hands in all the cookie jars. And from the looks of things, she was acting as L alongside Mello.

She didn't deserve that. She wasn't raised to be one of us. Mello, Near and I were exceptional. We were born for it. She was just an ordinary woman with a loose interpretation of commitment and a silver spoon in her mouth. She was usurper. If anyone was going to act as L alongside Mello, it was going to be me. She was just his ostentatious housewife.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked me. I was visibly upset by what I just read.

"I'm fine," I said.

"I take it you're not a fan of this Morgan woman, then?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Don't do anything rash," she warned. "Bide your time. Wait for the right moment. And then bring her down. Destroy her."

"I'll put that crow in her place," I said through clenched teeth.

Dawn began to filter through the windows around the front door. I continued to reread the file again and again. I had to make sure what I was reading was real. But it all made sense somehow. How else was Kira able to kill so many all at once? But more questions were bubbling through my head.

"Caroline," I said. "Have you noticed who Mello looks like?"

"Nathaniel?" she said. "Yeah. I did notice. Maybe it's a coinky-dink?"

"I no longer believe in coincidences. Everything is connected somehow. And he mentioned a genetic experiment involving Near, but nothing of that nature was in the case file."

"Maybe it happened after the fact. It seems that even after Kira's arrest there's still more to be found."

"I can't risk another adventure," I said. "I already destroyed their surveillance equipment. And printing the Kira case file left a track on the computer. Without another diversion, it'll be impossible to gather more information. The only way to not leave a trace is to destroy the information computer as well, but that would erase all of it except for what we have. Or at least anything that's close to being readily available. And then, when they find it destroyed, that's going to look really suspicious."

"I have an idea," Caroline said.

"What?"

"Well, we know the crow plays dirty. Maybe the best way to cipher information from Mello is to play to his passions."

"I hardly see that working," I said. "I'm not exactly experienced. I'm nineteen and a virgin. But wait. Maybe that could work to my favor. It would make me more trustworthy in terms of a romantic partner, definitely more so than the crow. Because her history is printed all over these pages. The only yarn I have to spin is a tragic young love story."

"About how you're oh so sad," Caroline smiled.

"Perhaps it's not a bad idea," I said. "Definitely worth considering."

I heard footsteps walking towards us.

"Shit!" I said. "Here, hide it under the couch."

We stuffed the file under the couch. Caroline threw herself under the blankets. And I rushed over to the other side of the room and flung myself onto the cushions and under the blanket. Just as soon as I landed, Roger opened the door.

"Good morning ladies," he said. "I hope you'll pardon the disturbance last night. We had a minor situation. But all is well."

Roger walked over to the door on the right side of the room. I watched him hold a key card to a shiny portion on the intercom. A green light lit up.

"If you ladies would please follow me, I'll have you fed and watered."

Roger opened the door. Caroline and I tumbled out of bed and shuffled over to the door and made our way through it. Inside was a small, but nice dining area. The table and chairs appeared to be fine antiques, made of a warm, bright colored wood and covered in subtle, elaborate carvings. On the table was a plate of what appeared to be french toast. Another had scrambled eggs, and another had bacon. The smell of the bacon wafted into my nose and ignited a burning hunger.

I sat down in one chair and Caroline sat next to me. Roger began backing out of the door.

"I will be back in a few minutes after you have finished eating. Then, I will take you to the grave, as promised."

Roger disappeared out of the door and shut it behind him. Caroline and I ate in silence. We had both been starving, eating only junk food snacks out of convenience stores the day before. The food was well-made. It was apparent that Roger, Mello and Morgan had cooks in their employ. Not long after we finished, Roger re-entered the room.

"Are you prepared to go out to the garden?" he asked.

I nodded. She did as well. We got up from our chairs and followed Roger out of the door. We exited the house out of the front door. We began walking around the side of the house, the same path I had taken last night. I tried to look up in wonder as though I had never seen before. It did look nicer in the daylight. The leaves were beginning to turn to autumn colors. Leaves that had already fallen crunched lightly beneath our feet. As we turned the corner, the garden came into view. The globe fountain shined marvelously in the daylight.

We walked farther into the garden, along a stone pathway that cut through the floral menagerie. In the very back, against the hedge wall, was a large, grey, marble grave stone. At the bottom a small torch burned. The base was surrounded by flowers of all colors.

His true name was written on the grave stone.

Nate River

Underneath the name was the carving of a chess piece. It was beautifully appropriate. I stared at the grave for several moments. This was the visual confirmation. He had not survived. He was gone. I reached my hand out to touch the stone. My fingers made brief contact with the cool surface.

But then something collided with the back of my head. I vaguely remember falling, just the slightest sensation of touching the ground. My sight went black, and I could just barely hear the tiniest echo to the start of a scream before the world went dead.