Taro walked the three blocks over to the plumbing supply store, remembering the questions Sherlock Holmes often asked himself; Was this a coincidence? Or were subtle forces at work? Taro laughed. It was probably some combination.

As Taro strolled past the new communications building - it was an older building, but it sure looked new - he noticed the flashing lights blinking behind darkly tinted glass. The place had been converted into sort of a computer center. He looked up to the sky, toward the top of the twelve story building, and squinted at the bright sky surrounding the silhouette of a large satellite dish.

How nice things would have been if this business hadn't relocated here. All those powerful radio waves screwing up the electronics of those high tech milling machines. In a way, his uncle's loss was a gain for Taro, because it provided him with a place to work; to pursue his art; to paint a beauty...

Taro took a deep breath and sighed. Coincidence. There was just too much coincidence. He was now past the communications building and coming up on his turn a block further up the street. When he made the left, he wasn't too surprised to see a police cruiser parked in front of the plumbing supply shop with it's blue and red lights spinning.

He approached the front door. Yellow police tape had been pushed to the side and the door was open. Taro stuck his head into the opening. The place looked like a hurricane had hit it. Busted up tables and knocked over shelving, torn cardboard boxes and random piles of garbage and paper. In the center of the store stood a policeman with his hands on his hips. It was the same policeman Taro had just been speaking to at the front door of his warehouse home.

The policeman spotted him. "Come on in." He waved for Taro to enter. "I wanted to check this place out." He put out his hands, waving them over the debris. "As you can see, the place has been stripped clean. Anything worth taking has been taken."

"So this is where that plumber worked? The one that killed himself?"

"Yes. This was his business." The policeman stepped over some junk and moved behind the collapsed counter.

"Would you mind if I looked around a little?" Taro asked.

"Technically you're trespassing. But you obviously wouldn't be the first. Besides, there's nothing here. Let me know if you find anything."

"You're looking for the source of the pipe?" Taro walked to the back room.

"Yes. I was hoping to find an incriminating surface from which I could lift your friend's fingerprint."

Taro was about to remind the policeman that Lito Kamata was not his friend, but reconsidered. It was no doubt just the policeman's way of being funny.

When he walked into the back room, he saw it immediately. "Right there." Taro pointed up above the back bathroom. "That's where Lito got his pipe."

The policeman walked back and looked up. Sure enough, there were sections missing from the plumbing that fed hot and cold water to the bathroom. "It's not what you'd expect," the policeman said. "Thieves stealing the actual working plumbing from a plumbing supply place."

"I bet the water heater is gone, too," Taro said. "The same thing happened to my uncle when his tenants moved out. Those scavengers took everything that wasn't bolted down - and most of what was bolted down."

The policeman looked up at the painted ceiling. "I may be able to get a usable print from up there."

Suddenly the policeman's radio came to life. The female dispatcher spoke. "All officers in the vicinity of 40th and Main. We've had a report of an assault. Code 43 dash 44. All units in the area please respond."

"40th and Main! Damn. That's my warehouse! What's going on? What's a 43 dash 44?"

The policeman held the radio to his mouth. "Unit 298 responding. I'm en route. ETA two minutes." Then he turned to Taro. "There's been an assault. A stabbing. Come with me."

Taro followed the policeman and jumped into the passenger side of the cruiser. With lights flashing and the sirens blaring they made it to Taro's warehouse in less than a minute. A small crowd was forming outside the partially open front door, the door that Lito had recently vandalized. As Taro and the policeman approached, they saw Lito, laying on the ground, his hand pressed up to his gut. He was lying in a large pool of blood.

The policeman spoke into his radio. "Unit 298 at the scene. We need an ambulance asap."

"Already on the way," the competent female voice on the other end of the radio responded.

Another police car pulled up minutes before the ambulance did. The paramedics immediately stabilized the bleeding man and placed him on a stretcher. They were racing off to the emergency room less than five minute after arriving.

When they lifted Lito, Taro immediately spotted something familiar in the pool of blood. It was his steak knife.

"Please back up everyone," the second policeman, actually a policewoman, said. "The excitement has passed. Please don't contaminate the crime scene."

"Did anyone see anything?" Taro's policeman asked the crowd.

One of the bystanders, who looked a lot like one of Lito's fellow druggies, spoke first. "The guy that lives here did this," he said. "Lito had a beef with him cause he kicked him out of his home."

The policewoman nodded and turned toward the policeman. "There may be something to that. The guy that lives here has been calling frequently about getting harassed by the vic. Maybe the victim finally pushed him over the edge."

The first policeman chuckled. "Under normal circumstances I'd agree with you. That's the logical choice." Then he pointed at Taro. "But the guy's been with me for the last half hour."

The policewoman shook her head and smiled. "Can't have a better alibi than that." She turned to Taro. "Still, would you mind answering some questions for me?" Taro spent several minutes answering the policewoman's questions. Yes, he lived alone. No, he had no idea who did this. And so on.

The crime scene investigative unit came by about an hour later. They took Taro's fingerprints and fingerprinted the surrounding area. Since the door had been partially open, they also went inside the building but found no blood or any sign of a struggle.

The upstairs area seemed to be untouched, but they checked it out to be thorough. "This is amazing," one of the CSI's said as he walked around the studio. His eye had caught Taro's most recent painting. "Is this for sale?"

Taro shook his head. This was so crazy. Lito Kamata the druggy had been stabbed and was near death. The first person to see his painting of Ryoko, dressed as a prisoner, was the police. And they asked if Taro's amazing painting was for sale! It was nuts.

"Thanks for the compliment, but it's not for sale yet," Taro replied. "Thanks for asking."

"The way you captured this model's eyes. It's amazing." The man gave Taro a card and asked him to let him know when his next show would be. Since there was no evidence that Lito had been here, they left Taro alone in his home.

Taro ran over to the cabinet and retrieved the red tape from it. After sitting down at his table for a few minutes, turning the red tape box over in his hands, he slammed the box down on the table and ran downstairs.

The first policeman was still there, taking a bystander's information and statements. When he was finished, Taro walked up to him.

"How is Lito?"

"I'm told he took a pretty good puncture wound to the abdomen and he lost a lot of blood. But he's going to survive."

"What should I do about the blood?" Lito pointed down at the red puddle drying on the sidewalk.

"Officially I'm required to tell you that this is a biohazard and you need to get a licensed person to clean it up."

"Unofficially?"

"The rain will wash it away eventually. A good firm broom, some strong soap and water will do the trick. Throw away your broom when you're done."

"Any idea who did it?"

"No. Except for you, we have no suspects. We called your uncle, who confirmed everything you told my partner. Your alibi is obviously very solid. So you're off the hook."

"Thank you, sir." Taro turned and walked into the warehouse. He locked the door once again the same way he had before; with a two by four and some rope. But he had a feeling locking up wouldn't be necessary anymore.

The red stain on the sidewalk served as a powerful warning. Nobody would be bothering Taro Shinjyo for a long time.