Disclaimer: I don't own Ghost Hunt or Death Note.

The Whitechapel Case

Fox-Trot-9

Part 1: The Hypothesis 5

Day 1—Jacob Meiler apologized for Andrew Todd's actions and checked on Bert and Lin to see if they were seriously hurt. Bert told him he was fine; as for Lin—let's just say he wasn't the kind of person that would complain about most things, although he walked with his legs farther apart than usual for obvious reasons. Lin sat painfully on the office chair, while Bert and Noll offered to help organize the old man's office. Boxes were moved, files were sorted and placed in the proper filing cabinets, casebooks were stacked, only leaving the clippings the way they were on the walls. That done, Jacob thanked the men, telling them to split for the pad before it got too late. They acknowledged and went on their way.

The drive home was a silent one. It was only 6:40 in the evening, but anyone can tell they were tired. The trio took the same route they used coming into London's Chancery Square, turning on Shamus Drive and taking Langley into the Woodside Ward of Croydon, before stopping at Newberry Road where the old Davis House stood. They got out, rang the bell and were admitted into the house.

"You all look tired," said Martin. "Mind telling me what happened while you were out?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Bert. "Just another day at the office."

"Any good leads?"

"Not yet."

"What about that legal pad? You have that on you?"

"Ah, shoot! It's still at Jacob's."

"That's all right; he can bring it back tomorrow." Martin closed the door, then noticed Lin's awkward gait. "Lin, did you get yourself hurt?"

"I'm fine; I just... slipped and fell," he said.

"Watch your step, next time. Some of the sidewalks are still a bit slippery this time of year." Then he turned to Bert, saying, "Do you want to join us for dinner?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure; I'll join."

With that, the trio took their places at the table, while Martin and Luella were preparing dinner in the kitchen. Of course, Lin took a bit longer to bend down into his seat; Noll and Bert could see the discomfort on his face as he did so. Then, silence. At least, as much silence as you could afford when you're trying to hold your breath; Bert was trying to do just that—hold his laughter back with one breath. The detective practically sniggered with his mouth shut; even Noll had a kind of sick smirk on his face. In any investigation, it was always good to let in a little humor once in a while. It takes the edge off of a tense situation. That is, unless you're the object of all that laughter.

"It's not funny," said Lin.

Bert's grin grew by leaps and bounds, threatening to erupt into a heap of laughter. "I know it isn't, but it's... It's so f-f-freaking funny! I'm sorry, man!" he said, finally letting it all out. He was leaning over with his face contorted into a maniacal Jack Nicholson-kind of grimace.

"I said it's not funny! Do you have any idea how painful this is?"

"Nope, and I don't want to know," and he sniggered away.

Then Noll cut in. "Lin, I thought you knew how to handle yourself in a situation like that."

Lin fought the urge to kick both of them in the balls beneath the table. "Can we please move onto a different subject?"

"All right," continued Noll. "Why did you let your guard down?"

Bert sniggered some more, while the kid kept smirking. Clearly, Noll would not let this go; the kid had a sick sense of humor. Lin would be damned if the rest of the SPR team knew what happened to him. He almost tried to stand, but the pain in his balls prevented him. So he sat there weighing two evils in his mind: get even (in that case, kick Noll in the balls and enjoy the vengeance) but risk getting fired; or simply take it like a man and suffer for just a little longer. He wisely chose the latter and endured fifteen more minutes of this torture before dinner was served.

With dinner served, they all ate and talked, Bert doing most of the talking. He informed Martin and Luella of the incident at the Mappleworth Pub, as well as the one in the MIT building at Scotland Yard, making sure to skip over the violent parts, especially Lin's tussle with Andrew and its painful results. No need to rub it into Lin's skin; he was already pissed as it is. But the subject was still enough for an animated discussion, give or take a few awkward moments, that took off the edge of the investigation, at least for now. By degrees, the pain between Lin's legs had eased enough for him relax a bit.

As for Noll, while he was eating, he was also thinking. Noll had many unanswered questions in his mind. He had a few questions about the case he knew he had to answer without his father's help, because, quite frankly, he didn't know if his father could help. Sure, Martin did have over twenty years of insight into the dark, twisted events that resulted in a haunting, but that was a hobby of his whenever he wasn't teaching law at Trinity College; and though he had the logical reasoning to explain the unexplainable, be it a haunting or otherwise, this particular case was different.

They were dealing with two killers. The cut marks on the body of Angela Benton told Noll that her anonymous killer must be a living person who had a knife, that her killer was not of supernatural origin. But how does that explain the apparent lack of evidence linking this person to the crime besides the handiwork of his knife? Could this person really be a butcher? Either his father's profile of a butcher must be wrong, or that profile must be changed to somehow include the know-how to rid a crime scene of evidence. So what kind of person would fit that profile? Who would that be? So far, Noll drew a blank.

As for the other killer, the so-called doctor, he could only guess; this killer had no identifiable method of killing, which broadened the choices to three possibilities: either this person really knew how to play trickster and hide his murder method, assuming this person was alive; or this person was a negative supernatural entity; or this person was a psychic. These premises were only guesses, which he must verify. But how do you verify anything within a city district as big as Whitechapel, filled with more variables to account for than you could shake a stick at? He didn't know, but he'd have to find out, one way or another. But his gut feeling told him it was the last premise, the psychic, though he didn't know why. Who ever heard of a psychic, living or dead, who had the power to kill just by thinking about it? Noll didn't know, and the little, timid boy deep inside him didn't want to know, and that scared him.

"Noll, are you all right?" said Luella, looking at her with concern on her face. "You've been staring off into space for almost half an hour."

"I'm just thinking, that's all. About the case, I mean."

"Try not to think about it while you're eating," said Martin. "It will spoil your appetite."

"I know, but I just can't help it."

Martin looked at his son. He had never known Noll to get perturbed by anything, let alone show his concern in front of those around him.

Then Luella whispered into Martin's ear, "He's worried about me."

That was obvious. Martin said, "Noll, I know this whole thing is very...hard for you to take. I know this is personal for you. But you must not let your emotions cloud your judgment. Try not to let your concern for our safety hinder you, for it might compromise your own safety. Do you understand?"

"I do," he said.

"Good," and with that, the five of them continued eating, this time in silence.

The mention of the case killed the pleasantries of an evening dinner, but Noll couldn't help it. It felt too personal to him for some reason; it cut too close to the bone. In his prior investigations, Noll was always professional, almost indifferent towards the consequences it held for the parties involved, only concerned with the truth, whatever it may be, no matter who it might hurt. He always did an investigation at arm's length, because that was the rule. Never let a case breathe in your face.

After dinner, Bert said his thanks and split for the pad in his house somewhere. He knew tomorrow was going to be one hell of a screamer, with the commissioner doing much of the screaming over all the cops who quit the investigation. As for Lin, he excused himself and got up (still feeling the pain between his legs, but he managed it better than before), and got ready to hit the sack. This first day on the case had already roughed him up. Martin gathered the dishes and placed them in the washing machine, while his wife took one long glance at Noll as he walked into the private study, worrying about him like every mother should. She followed him into the study to talk to him.

"Noll, would you like some tea?" said Luella.

"Yes, please."

She went into the kitchen and came back with the tea, placing it in front of him on the coffee table. Noll didn't take it, though. She sat beside her son on the sofa, taking his hands in hers; his hands were sweating. She looked up from his hands and saw sweat beading on his forehead, a sure sign that something was wrong.

"Noll, what's wrong? I've never seen you like this before."

"Nothing's wrong; I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I said I'm fine."

She doubted him but ignored it for now. "Please don't be angry at your father for not telling you everything; he didn't want you to worry about him or me while you were away, that's all."

Noll faced her, trying to see if she was lying; he didn't see that she was. He then picked up the cup from the table, but it shook in his trembling hands. That's when the sheer weight of Noll's fear dropped on him like a pile of bricks, so he placed it back on the table and leaned back on the sofa, taking in deep deliberate breaths.

He said, "I know he meant well by not telling me, but... I-I'm... I'm just..."

"There's no shame in being afraid, Noll." It was Martin standing at the door of the study; he'd been watching him for a few minutes, and he knew something got to him. Something bad, though he didn't know what. "Everyone has the right to be scared, even you."

"I know but... After losing Gene, I just... What if—?"

"Don't equate his passing with the possibility of mine, or your mother's. Just know that we are here for you; no matter what happens, we're here for you—Lin is here for you. You'll never be alone." Noll nodded yes. He understood that much. "Well, it's best we get some sleep. You going to stay in here for long?"

"Not too long. I just need to be by myself for a bit."

Both parents looked at each other, then nodded and left him there sitting on the sofa, left him to brood over many things just so he could get them off his chest. Indeed, he had a lot to think about. Noll was a thinking man who had many unanswered questions. It's been said that the sages of this world that seemed to have all the answers were really skeptics who asked the most questions, usually the kind of questions no one else could answer but themselves. For Noll, of all the questions he had, there was one that baffled even his sharp intellect. It came about when Noll talked to Mai at his office at the SPR building in the remaining days before he left for England. It was sunny outside, so sunlight spilled into the room that looked more like a deserted beach patio than an office. Noll was packing his belongings into a few briefcases on the desk.

Mai was standing in front of his desk, looking at him with her arms akimbo; he hadn't answered her question downstairs, and in all honesty, it was starting to annoy her. "I don't understand how you do it, Naru."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"I'm being serious, here. How can you not cry over Gene's death? He's your brother! Don't you have any remorse at all?"

"Why should I?" Silence; Mai didn't respond. "Death is the only certainty in this world, and a century from now none of us will be around to cry about it. There's no use for crying over anything that's bound to happen."

"This isn't like crying over spilled milk, and you know it." Noll didn't say anything; Mai sighed. "God, Naru, stop denying yourself and just let it out. Be human for once, just once."

Noll looked at her. "You're very persistent, I see."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Naru, I'm not joking!" No answer; he just kept packing. "Fine! Be that way, you narcissistic bastard!"

Well, that caught him off guard. Noll didn't think she would have the nerve to use fowl language on him. Then again, she was full of surprises. Just a few months ago, he found out that she had latent ESP. He looked at her with the sun shining on her features, at her the arms over her chest and the pout on her face that told him she was getting pissed off. No surprise there; she got pissed off at him before.

"Mai, I appreciate your concern for me," he said, still packing; the girl brightened at that. "But I don't need other people's concerns weighing me down, right now." And that put her out.

Mai thought of kicking him in the shins, or better yet in the balls, so he would cry over his brother's death whether Noll wanted to or not, but she wisely thought it over. She wasn't even sure if Noll would cry for that, let alone for his brother; he was pretty stoic. Then she noticed something, something she should have noticed when she entered the SPR building. Nobody else was around. Not John, not Ayako, not Monk, not Lin, and (thank her lucky stars) not Masako. She was alone with her one and only, and now was her chance to get him. She blushed at such a remote but beautiful possibility.

She gathered all the courage she could muster and walked as close as she dared toward him, catching his attention. "Naru, when will you come back to Japan?"

"I'm not sure I will come back."

Silence.

"Then," she said, placing her hand on Noll's, "why not take me with you?"

Noll looked at her; she was finding deeper shades of red by the second. "You know I can't take you."

"But I... God, Naru, can't you see I'm professing my freaking love to you!"

Noll gave her a halfway-decent smile, then said, "Are you sure about that? Tell me, Mai: Who do you really love?" He leaned in dangerously close to Mai, staring right into her eyes. "Is it me, or is it Gene?"

That took the wind out of her sails, and now she was adrift in a sea of bleeding hearts. That's when she finally realized why the Noll in her dreams always smiled, while the real Noll rarely did; the one in her dreams was really Gene, whom she had not seen in her dreams since she last saw him in that forest. And the fact that he was dead, and his brother seemed indifferent to it, bore down on her like a ton of bricks. She let go of Noll's hand and shut her eyes to stop the tears from coming out without success; it wasn't the big loud cry of accidentally cutting yourself, but the small silent cry of getting shot down by the one you loved or thought you loved, and crashing and burning on the decent. Mai's blind love for Noll was a double-edged sword that left her bleeding.

When the tears stopped and she opened her eyes, she still found Noll looking at her. "Mai, whether you want to or not, you will see Gene again."

"And when will that be? A hundred years from now?"

He smirked. "Two-hundred."

Noll shot her down again; he found the sick pleasure of messing with her head to be one of the things he truly liked about Mai. Her innocence, and thus her ignorance, knew no bounds. He smirked mischievously at that fact, as he sipped at his tea on the sofa. There was just one thing that baffled him: Why did he say to her 'you will see Gene again'? It just popped into his head, and he said it without a moment's thought, which definitely wasn't like him. What was he thinking when those words came out of him? Was he possessed? No, that can't be. Noll remembered the whole scene like he had directed it with his camera rolling. Did he really say those words? Yes, he did—he remembered them as clear as day. But if he did...if he somehow meant those words to comfort her, that would mean Noll...loved her, and that was definitely not like him. Sure, he cared about her, even liked her, but liking and loving were two different things.

He reviewed the scene in his mind over and over again and still couldn't figure it out. So he gave it up. Yes, believe it or not, he quit trying to figure out that mystery. Noll, the famous Oliver Davis, the reclusive Shibuya Kazuya, also known as Naru the Narcissist thanks to a certain someone, admitted defeat. Not that anybody else could figure out love, either; in fact, most couldn't, and those that claimed to have figured it out were themselves fallen victim to the perils of Cupid's bitter sting. Love was not Noll's forte, ghosts were. Just how messed up did you have to be to fall in love? He didn't want to know.

Noll sat there on the sofa, considering that subject till it went stale. Then he got up with the empty cup in hand, went to the kitchen and placed the cup in the dishwasher. He saw the refrigerator, which still had the little magnets on it, the ones shaped like all the capital letters of the English alphabet neatly lined up vertically along the left side of the door.

He remembered those magnets, too, way back in the mythic days of his childhood. He remembered how he and Eugene used to have a contest with each other about who could figure out which word each was thinking first. Lin was also there, but they often ignored him; five-year-olds always did. In this contest, Noll usually read his brother's mind a bit faster before he read his, beating him by just a few seconds, but he never bragged about it. There was an exception, though. One time, Eugene read his mind faster than he could read his, and that was the start of three months of almost non-stop bickering, which ended in a fight that Lin had to break up. Noll had a headache that time and couldn't concentrate, so by default he thought he still had Eugene beat. But they were brothers; Noll couldn't resent him for long. Such fond memories. Well, so much for memories.

He opened the refrigerator door to see if there was anything good to snack on, and felt an unusually cold draft spill into the floor. He got goose bumps, but he ignored it and looked inside. Yes, there it was; it was an unopened box of Lucky Charms (his mother probably got it during her errand), but he decided to save that for breakfast.

He closed the door and saw it.

Some of the letter magnets have moved. The letters spelled:

OLIVER.

Noll looked at the letters in front of him. Now he knew why it got so cold; a spirit was in the house. Unlike most people, he wasn't scared; he wasn't even perplexed. He just remained calm. If anything, he was...curious. He knew this could not have been his own psychokinetic powers at work. Someone was trying to get his attention, but who?

"Who are you?"

He stood back a little but kept his eyes glued onto the refrigerator door, expecting the letters to move. At first, nothing. No movement. But after a minute or two they moved, as if whoever moved them wanted to answer; new letters moved from the vertical column along the door, turning this way and that way, some returning to the column of letters, some circling while others stayed where they were. The letters now spelled:

UGINE.

"Ujine? That doesn't make sense. What are you trying to say?"

As if on command, two more letters left the column of letters to join the rest. Now they spelled:

YOUGINE.

The look of curiosity disappeared from his face. "Eugene!... Why are you here? How come you haven't passed on, yet?" He waited for a reply. And waited. And waited... One minute... Then two... Then five. Still nothing. "Gene, why are you still in limbo? You know you shouldn't be there." Silence. "Talk to me." Nothing; Eugene was gone.

(To be continued...)

A/N: Believe it or not, but that's the end of the first day on the case. I know it's a lot for one day. I also felt that this story needed some humor and fluff to lighten the mood a bit. Please don't kill me if Naru, Lin or Mai seem a bit OOC. I tried my best. And I never read the novels; I just used my imagination, so if the flashback seems out of tune, please be nice. Romance isn't really my gig. Let me know what you think. So please review. I'm dying to know what you guys think.