The contents of the Roche file did not raise any alarms. Which made things even more suspicious.
Peter Roche, by all accounts, was an ordinary man with an ordinary family. He had attained his job at Markenverwand straight out of university, with a degree in marketing, and had steadily climbed his way through the ranks with no suspicious promotions or signs of corruption. Like most men his age, he had participated in the Ostanian military machine during the war, but he had spent most of his time in administrative positions with few opportunities to meet important officials. Some of his current work involved creating propaganda pieces for Ostanian political parties, but he himself didn't seem to express interest in politics. He had never been arrested or put on the SSS radar for any 'unsavory' actions or vocalized opinions. He had no relatives that had government or SSS connections either, coming from a family of butchers; both of his parents were fully retired, and his older brother had taken over the family business. His finances were clean.
His name showed up on paperwork regarding Anya's adoption from a small children's house in southern Ostania, but there was no paper trail indicating how she ended up at the run-down orphanage Twilight had found her. That was the only 'suspicious' thing attached to the man specifically but, given the sketchiness of the place, Twilight could understand a citizen like Peter not wanting to sully his reputation by being caught abandoning an innocent child there. Franky noted that, to the people who knew the Roches, the story was that they had tried fostering a child but that it simply hadn't worked out.
His wife was Brigitte Roche, née Weber, an elementary school teacher, and had almost as clean a history as her husband. She came from a family of bankers and had no degree, finding herself working as a secretary at Markenverwand once graduating from secondary school. She met Peter there and they married a year after that. She left her secretary position a year after that to become a stay-at-home mother to their biological son, Bruno, but applied for teaching positions after he was old enough to be more self-sufficient. She had an acquaintance whose daughter was part of the National Union Party's youth branch, but their contact was minimal.
The fire at their 43 Sheiling Street address took place almost exactly a year previous, on March 20th. Just as Franky deduced, the incident had many signs of a targeted arson. Aside from the foreign accelerant that was designed to spread flames quickly and produce a toxic smoke, the family's apartment on the 5th floor was the only targeted residence within the building and the phone in the sitting room had been dismantled; if Mr. Roche hadn't recently installed a secondary fixed phone line in the master bedroom, the family would have had no way to call emergency services. Of course, the apparent assassination attempt failed – fire services arrived within fifteen minutes of the call being sent out and nobody in the Roche family suffered more than a scare.
Different underground investigators had been hired to keep a casual eye on the family afterwards, but the surveillance stopped after three months.
It didn't make sense!
There was no reason that a normal set of upstanding Ostanian citizens would be targeted in such a brazen manner unless there was something darker hidden under their roof! Franky was fallible, sure, he was an expert at digging up whatever lay beneath the surface when it mattered. His major stumble had occurred when investigating the culprits of the fire, which was proof enough that someone in the household had ties to them. Loid highly doubted that the 5-year-old Anya or 10-year-old Bruno could have attracted such attention, but both parents seemed as clean as one could be in this day and age.
They must have missed a possible avenue of investigation…
Just one small thread…
"Loid!"
The man in question blinked back to awareness, as he felt Yor's fingers graze the back of his hand.
Oh, that's right. He was on a date. Yor was watching him.
Loid mentally berated himself. Sure, he'd gotten the idea to take Yor out at the beginning of the week, before this new mystery had come to light, but it was quite rude of him to have his mind wander and completely neglect his partner while she was standing right by his side.
He had to admit that going on dates with Yor was becoming less of a mission checklist item and more of a reason to relax in her company, which was definitely a good thing. He knew how to fake enjoyment of an activity for the sake of the mission, but it was always easier when he didn't have to do so. And it kept Yor happy, all the same.
But here he was, ignoring her attention in favor of a work side project.
The slight breeze tickled his jaw. He'd been staring, unfocused, into the light of a streetlamp, halting their steady pace around the perimeter of the open space of the park near their home.
"Sorry."
But Yor didn't look annoyed at his lapse in concentration, merely curious.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Anya."
It was as close to the truth as she was going to get.
Yor smiled softly, "Oh? Don't worry, I don't think she's mad at you. She just needs some space."
Loid raised his eyebrow in question and Yor chuckled.
"I noticed that she's been…avoiding you. And when I asked her about it, she said that she doesn't like when you're annoyed with her."
Loid frowned, "I'm not annoyed with her…"
"Well, maybe you should assure her of that, since that's what she thinks happened when you spoke to her."
"Oh."
'Anya thinks I'm annoyed with her. Anya could tell that I was trying to get information from her. And she is fully aware that I know she is not giving me everything...'
Yor looked at the ground and began fidgeting, "I-I'd hate to tell you what to do with your own daughter, but I think…I think maybe you should be a bit softer with her. I assumed you spoke to her about h-her mother, which could still be a hard topic for the both of you…"
"I'd asked her about her nightmare on Sunday," Loid scratched the back of his neck, "If it was related."
"Was it?"
"Partially…" In a manner of speaking.
Yor was quiet for a moment, before she asked, "Was Anya there, when she…died?"
Loid looked at her. She was wringing her fingers again, but she had raised her head to look him in the eye. In their eight months together, she had never directly asked about the 'death' of her supposed predecessor. Of course, there had been nobody and, although Loid had a cover story written down to the smallest detail, he was hit with the urge to give her a sliver of honesty.
He was getting that urge more often these days.
"No. She wasn't," he looked over to see her watching him, so he feigned a slightly shaky breath, "Her mother was ill and in the hospital. We were all tired and miserable and I wanted to distract Anya from all that, so I tried to take her to get something to eat. We didn't get back to the room in time. She died alone."
He didn't expect his voice to break on that last word, but it did, and he was immediately thrown back to his childhood. That day…
"AIR RAID! Get to the shelter!"
"Hey kid, get back here!"
"Mom! Mom! MOM!"
"I…regret not being there," Loid said, looking away, "She shouldn't have had to die alone."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Yor said quietly, "What was her name, if you don't mind my asking?"
Loid didn't know what his mother's first name was. He had been too young to know her as anything other than 'Mom'.
"Ilse."
"That's beautiful."
Long, shining hair. A sing-song voice that made him feel safe.
"She was."
Yor reached out and grabbed his hand, "Thank you for telling me."
There was nobody around to keep up appearances for. Her hand was warm.
She squeezed his once, quickly, and then kept holding it.
Loid let her.
XXX
"Papa! Papa, look, I did well this time!"
Loid blinked down at the papers being thrust in his face, having just returned from work. He was surprised that Anya was talking to him again, after three and a half days of freezing him out. As he took off his hat and overcoat, Anya bounced impatiently. Yor got up from the sofa where she had been reading, already out of her work clothes.
"Evening, Loid," she greeted, "Anya's been talking about the results of her last pieces of homework since she got home. She was really excited for you to see them."
"Oh?"
Loid took the papers from Anya and looked at the marks:
Classical Language: 55%
Mathematics: 30%
History: 35%
Well…it could be worse. Her grades had been a frustrating mix of 'steadily improving' for some of them and 'frustratingly stagnant' for others. In terms of improvement, he supposed he should be happy that she was now consistently getting double digit scores in mathematics, given that it was her worst subject at the beginning of the school year. Literature was still a struggle for her, for some reason that evaded Loid's understanding, given that she seemed to love reading (or maybe that was just comics?). Classical language was still her best subject. Overall, her spelling was getting better, but her handwriting was still supremely unintelligible. Loid could only guess at how long it took for her teachers to decipher what she was trying to say, let alone mark the content…
Loid looked down at Anya. Her cheeks seemed puffed in frustration, completely at odds with her excitement a minute earlier.
"Did Anya do good, Papa?" Her usual question came out softer than usual, like she feared his answer.
Loid arranged his expression into one that would be seen as more reassuring and handed her work back to her, "Yes, you did, Anya."
"Papa's lying," she pouted.
Loid blinked, "I'm not! I'm happy to see that your mathematics score is getting better."
Anya sighed, relief clear on her face, "So Anya's helping!"
'Huh?'
"I mean," she added, "Papa wants me to be good, so I'm helping!"
Yor giggled, tearing Loid's attention away from the confusing girl, "Do you think you can keep being good and let your father out of the entryway now?"
"Okay!" Anya said, "Anya wants to help Mama make dinner!"
As the girl maneuvered around Yor's legs and Bond to get into the kitchen, she shot Loid a look that he assumed was supposed to be meaningful. He had no idea what she was trying to tell him.
Yor watched her go, then smiled back at Loid, "I guess she's had enough space for now."
"I guess so."
Yor looked at his wan smile, "You look tired. Maybe you should rest a bit after dinner."
"I'd love to," Loid said, "But I'm actually not staying for dinner, sorry. I'm going to freshen up and then I'm meeting my friend for dinner and drinks."
"Friend?" Yor tilted her head for a second before realization crept in, "Oh, from Saturday? Why don't you invite him here. I don't mind making extra servings."
'Bad idea!'
"I don't think—"
"Uwaaa," Anya's cry came from around the corner, and she poked her head out, "Papa's leaving again?"
"Only for a few hours…"
'I have to change quickly. It would leave a bad first impression to keep Mr. Roche waiting for even a second.'
If anything, Anya's eyes grew wider, "No Papa! You can't go!"
"Huh? Why not."
Anya seemed to struggle to come up with an answer, but she eventually blurted, "Anya wants all of us to have dinner together!"
Loid looked between her and Yor. Loid didn't understand where this sudden distress was coming from. Maybe he should stay, if Anya wanted him to be around so badly; refusing her now would probably put her back in a bad mood, which is the last thing he wanted now that she was talking to him again. But it would be a mistake to stand up Mr. Roche when he was so close to getting some answers…
"Mama, tell Papa to stay!"
Yor merely looked amused, "Your papa can't just cancel. I'm sure he really wants to see his friend after so many years apart, right? We can have dinner together tomorrow night."
Anya grabbed onto Bond and looked into the dog's eyes, "But Anya was good!" she muttered.
'Oh. I think I get it.'
"Don't worry Anya, this isn't about you," Loid said, crouching to her level and patting her head, "I'm still happy you did a good job, I promise. It's just dinner with an old friend. I'll be back."
Anya shook her head, "But…but…Anya's feeling sick and really needs Papa to stay."
Loid raised an eyebrow, "You seemed perfectly fine a few minutes ago," he placed the back of his hand on her forehead, "And you don't have a fever."
"Anya will be sick after eating Mama's food!"
"Hey!" Yor grumbled from above them.
"Now Anya, that's very rude to say," Loid scolded, "Yor hasn't made anything sickening in weeks."
And thank goodness for that!
"Hey!" Yor said again but, thankfully, there was no hurt in her voice.
Loid sighed, "Is there a reason why you want me to stay home so badly?"
Anya looked like she was about to cry, "That man…he'll—"
Anya looked up at Yor pleadingly before grabbing at Bond again. She gave Loid that significant look again. He still didn't know what it meant.
Loid stood and looked at the clock. He had twenty minutes before Mr. Roche expected him.
His girls were watching him. One with fear, one with concern.
"Yor, um, I do have to go, so…"
"Don't worry," she said, before turning her attention to Anya, "If you really missed Loid, you can try to stay up; maybe your father can be back in time to put you to bed. How about that?" She reached down to ruffle Anya's hair as well, "You wanted me to help me make dinner, right? How about we make a special batch for him to have when he gets back, if he's still hungry."
As she led the girl back into the kitchen, Yor shot Loid a look that clearly said 'You'd better be hungry' and Loid felt his face grow warm.
'Cute.'
That was another one for the 'Unnecessary Thoughts' box.
XXX
"Mr. Roche."
"Peter, please, Dr. Forger. It's a pleasure to meet you again!"
The restaurant Loid had chosen for their evening, Venge, was a moderately casual hole-in-the-wall type establishment, offering a good variety of good food and good drinks without needing to get dressed up. It was all purposeful, to set the atmosphere as easygoing enough for Mr. Roche to let his guard down. He had also chosen a place that was in Mittle, on Mr. Roche's old territory, closer to his place of work than his current home, so he wouldn't have the time to be able to mentally reset like Loid had. That would, again, ensure that Mr. Roche's mind would be more eager to shake off the pressures of the day and bring its walls down where Loid could best exploit it.
Was it an unnecessary strategy? Perhaps. Mr. Roche was an ordinary man who didn't seem paranoid; Loid didn't need such subtle psychological manipulation to get what he wanted out of him. Mr. Roche hadn't complained when Loid had selected the restaurant and had even made a few menu recommendations.
But Loid needed any advantage he could take, especially since this involved STRIX.
As he shook the shorter man's hand and sat down across from him, Loid felt at ease. Things were under control.
Until Peter Roche pulled a small, wrapped box out of his briefcase and placed it on the table, pushing it towards Loid.
"Did you do anything for Anya's sixth birthday? It was last week, right?"
And Loid felt the ground fall out from beneath him.
Yeah, it occurred to me that we still don't know Anya's birthday, canonically. I imagine, for simplicity, Loid would have made it the day he adopted her, but the Roche's might have picked a different day.
Of course, Anya doesn't want Loid meeting up with Peter since she KNOWS he'll have questions for her when he returns, haha. And she really thought that showing Loid how she was improving in school (i.e. doing her part in the mission) would satisfy him enough to drop the mystery. But we know Loid is a professional. Information is everything, and he's not going to ignore any leads.
Regarding Anya's grades, the manga does say that classical language is her best language, but we don't know much about her other classes. I just head-canon that the subjects she's improving in are the ones where it is easier for her to mind-read black and white 'correct' answers from her classmates (like math), and not do as well in subjects where answers on tests can be more up to interpretation (like Literature).