— Chapter 14: Tuesday, January 13th, Morning —

The morning was interminable. "End-of-the-day tomorrow… Wednesday at the latest…" Those words repeated on a loop inside Makoto's head. She just needed to make it through this work day, and then, hopefully, Tae would get back to her with something she could use to advance at least one of her cases. The captain hadn't agreed to reopen Kento Abe's case, but he wasn't stopping her from investigating it either. His final edict seemed to be that as long as it didn't get in the way of her ability to work fresh cases, he would look the other way on those others. And he didn't come right out and say so, but she suspected that he would agree to reclassify the Abe case if the facts ultimately pointed in a different direction. For Makoto, that was a good thing. The right thing.

But for Sato, it must have stung. He'd been avoiding eye contact with her ever since they left the PC's office yesterday. The captain's failure to unequivocally stick up for him meant that he had lost face, and he would certainly be blaming that uncomfortable feeling on Makoto and her meddling.

She felt bad about how it had turned out, but even in hindsight, she wasn't sure she'd have done anything differently than how she did it. She might have told Sato about it sooner, privately, just so he didn't have to learn about it under the scrutiny of his boss. That course of action would've carried other potential downsides, though, and now that it had already all come out, it was pointless to speculate on whether or not that would've really been the wiser move. What was done, was done.

So they played at being partners.

The death yesterday had been very by-the-book: A masseuse at a massage parlor had been killed by one of her clients. It was the very same massage parlor in Shinjuku that Makoto had busted last year for operating as a brothel, so the manager had installed secret cameras in the massage rooms to ensure that all of his employees were, in fact, providing the requisite massages prior to engaging in coitus, as per the Anti-Prostitution law. In this situation, the masseuse had provided the massage, as so dictated, but then had the gall to refuse to follow up as the client had been expecting. Upset by this affront, the client had punched her in the head, apparently with enough force to kill her. Manslaughter, caught on tape.

Makoto had spent the morning conducting phone interviews with the perpetrator's acquaintances to get a better picture of his state of mind, and Sato had been writing up the first draft of the report. She wasn't positive, but she suspected that Sato was doing exactly what he'd have been doing anyway, pre-partnership. In this situation, she didn't necessarily disagree that there was already enough evidence to jump straight to the conclusion, but she wanted to participate in a way that wouldn't interfere with what he was doing, so she decided to proceed with the probably-unnecessary interviews anyway. The manager at the massage parlor had already contacted the woman's family—the victim's sister also worked there—so at least Makoto and Sato wouldn't need to argue over who had to give the bad news.

She just needed to get through the day.

— — —

Three days in a row, and no Tae at the hospital. Emiko had been a ball of stress ever since Sunday, and if she couldn't sort it out on her own soon, she would have to tell someone about her suspicions. Just from talking to her on the phone yesterday, even Ryuji could tell something was off with her. She'd toyed with the idea of showing him the surveillance photo, to see if maybe he thought it could be Tae in that picture, but that would mean admitting she'd stolen police evidence. She wasn't ready to go there yet.

Tae had said she might be in today. Emiko resolved that, if she hadn't seen Tae by the end of the day today, she would tell Makoto what she was worrying over.

— — —

For Ren, today was a work day, but not in the way that would move his real agenda forward. On Tuesdays, Ren had his Blades class to oversee—that was a responsibility he couldn't fulfill from his desk. The weekly progress reports that Mifune-sensei expected from him had to be based on evidence, after all, and that meant he still had to actually teach a little.

On top of that, his Behavioral Science professor was insisting that, until his final paper was actually submitted, he would be expecting Ren to show up to the discussion groups. His professor was already agreeing to let him "get away with depriving his peers of a thought partner for the remainder of the term," so at least until he'd submitted his own polished essay, his professor was demanding that he show up in person. He'd be allowed to miss lectures, but not the discussions—at least not all the discussions.

He'd spent so much of last week rolling out of bed and going straight to his desk that it was weird to be in real pants this early in the day. When he had complained that morning, Morgana gleefully pointed out that it hadn't taken him long to get used to living like a bum.

— — — Tuesday, January 13th, Afternoon — — —

She'd made it. The most awkward, uncomfortable, tense day of her career was finally over. Much to her chagrin, however, it hadn't ended with a phone call from Tae Takemi letting her know how her tests had turned out. Though her massage parlor case had been opened and closed in less than 24 hours, her other investigations remained on ice.

As far as Saki Kobayashi and Rika Abe were concerned, Makoto was "still investigating".

So when she called it a day so much earlier than normal—what had become normal for her, at least—it was odd to find herself the first one home. Sae was still at work.

She checked her phone, and saw that Ren had passed the texting baton off to her with a series of messages in response to hers:

Uh oh, what made *your* day fucked up?
If it was anything like mine, we should really talk on the phone
Sending disjointed batches of texts every 8 hours is no way to hold a meaningful conversation
I'm glad Tae was able to help you, at least

Makoto smiled. Talking on the phone sounded nice. She shot out her reply:
I should be available the rest of the evening if you want to give me a call

She wasn't going to hold her breath waiting for a reply though. She took her phone into the bathroom with her. She could at least treat herself to a bubble bath while she waited for Ren's life to align with her own.

— — —

Tae never made it to the hospital. The medical examiner who had done Kento Abe's autopsy hadn't made it into the office today either, but that didn't mean Tae had been idle in her efforts to address Makoto's investigation or advance her own "personal errand". She'd been hard at work in the lab all day, running tests and checking paperwork.

Holding Makoto's business card in her hands, she got out her phone, and tapped in the number for Makoto's direct line. It went to voicemail.

Shit, oh well, thought Tae, as she prepared to leave a message. She waited for the beep.

"Hi Makoto, this is Tae Takemi. I'm calling from the lab at the medical examiner's. I'm pissed that I missed you—I think I may have uncovered some pretty big stuff. If you could meet me here at the medical examiner's office tomorrow at around nine, I think that would be best. I'd rather show you than tell you. If that doesn't work, just call me here, at the office, and let me know. Poor Emiko may need a new mentor…"

With a sigh, Tae tapped the hang up button on her phone and opened her contacts. Finding the next number she needed, she tapped the call button. She cursed to herself as this call, too, went to voicemail.

"Hi Misako, it's Tae. I'm just calling because I've discovered something that I think deserves your attention. I've spent the last three days in the lab, running tests and looking over lab reports, and what I've found really concerns me. I'd meant to talk to you first, but since we haven't been able to connect, I think I'll just have to take my concerns straight to the police. If you could give me a call back as soon as you can, that would be great. Thanks, Bye."

Tae gathered up all the paperwork she'd been poring over for the last several hours and stuffed it in her bag to take home—she knew she wasn't supposed to remove files without entering it into the logbook, but she'd be back with them before anyone would notice. She was the last one out of the medical examiner's office, so she needed to punch in the security code to reactivate the alarm. Pressing the buttons, she couldn't help notice the shiver in her fingers as the adrenaline coursed through them.

— — —

Emiko knew that no texts she sent from the train would make it to their intended recipients before she was practically back at her dorm anyway, so instead of frantically swyping out texts, she instead spent the entire ride drafting messages in her head. Unfortunately, even by the time she was closing the door to her dorm room swiftly behind her, Emiko hadn't come up with a draft that she liked better than any other.

But there was no more putting it off. If there was any chance that Emiko's suspicions were accurate, she needed to tell Makoto. A man's life could be hanging in the balance. She needed to try to quash those fears that she was wrong. What she was about to say might upset her best friend, but upsetting her was a small risk when weighed against the bigger concern of what could happen if she was right. She unlocked her phone and prepared to open her texts.

Apparently, unlocking her phone had been necessary for it to wake itself up enough to reconnect to the network, because as soon as she did, her post-subway salvo of notifications finally arrived. Her heart caught in her throat as she noticed some fresh texts from Tae.

Good evening, my little intern
I'm sorry I missed you again today
I wasn't really ready to talk about it until now, but there's been something very much on my mind for several days now
It's your fault, really, but I mean that in a good way
Last spring, I lost someone very dear to me, and it's been bothering me ever since. Ever since his death, i've been trying, and failing, to put it behind me
Then, when you and i were first getting to know one another, you said something that made it so much worse
I had made the comment, 'you can't help someone once they're dead' or something like that, and you had said 'but you can help them tell their story'
After that, it was like i could hear his voice again, begging me to help him tell his story
And i think i finally can
So i wanted to say 'thank you', my little intern
And i'm sorry
Because i think you're going to have a lot more days of shadowing dr nagatomi ahead of you…? 😬

Emiko read and reread the series of texts, trying to wrap her head around their full and complete meaning. What exactly was she saying? And what was with that emoji? It seemed at odds with the gravity of the content of those messages. What the hell was she planning on doing?

There was nothing for it. It was time to come clean with Makoto.

— — —

As though psychological stress were an oily film that could be removed with liquid soap and vigorous scrubbing, Makoto had seen terrific success in her efforts to feel more relaxed. The air was thick with water vapor and the savory smell of incense. She only had two immediate problems. One: The water was starting to get cold. The other: The fact that her phone, perched precariously on the edge of the bathtub, still hadn't rung.

Ren…

She knew he was busy. This was his last term at the Academy. Besides all the normal things he had to do as part of his education, it being the last term meant that he would need to file for graduation, get ready to move out of the house, prepare his resumé, and a million other things. The fact that Ren had stayed behind when it had been her turn to prepare for graduation meant that a lot of those "moving on" type things were things she'd never had to worry about. She'd had to file for graduation and prepare her resumé, but that was about it.

In spite of all the excuses she knew he had, she was desperate to talk to him. She'd felt a lot of eyes on her body these past few days, and she wanted them to be his. Feeling her nipples harden, whether from the unbidden thoughts or the tepid bath water, she shivered. Leaning forward, she took hold of the hot water knob and set to work increasing the temperature of the bath water. Not one to waste a good opportunity, especially not when it was so sorely needed, she lay back in the water and scooted her ass forward. Putting her feet up on the edge of the tub, she brought her pussy into the stream of water and let it run over her folds. Practically melting under the steady thrumming pressure, she exhaled deeply, letting her body sink further into the warming water as her lungs deflated.

Her hips were just beginning to buck from her impending orgasm when her phone finally rang. She cursed Ren's timing, but was glad for the interruption nonetheless. Pushing herself away from the running faucet, she reached for her phone and put it on speaker. "Hi Ren," she said, in a voice more sultry than she'd intended.

"Makoto? Is this a bad time?"

At the sound of the female voice on the other end of the line, Makoto nearly had a heart attack. She shot into a sitting position, splashing water onto the floor and threatening to send her phone into the drink. "Emi?" she asked, trying to regain her composure. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, hi… Sorry, were you expecting Ren to call? Are… Are you in the bath? Should I… call back?"

Turning off the water and pulling the plug on the tub, Makoto hastily stood up. "No! Hi Emi, it's fine… Yes, I was expecting Ren, but, uh, no, I'm not in the bath! Just give me a second to put down what I was doing…" Without waiting for an answer, she took her phone off speaker and reached for a towel. Emiko had already heard the running water and the telltale sound of bathroom echo, but she went ahead and pretended she didn't know Makoto was naked and wet, expecting a call from Ren. She was too desperate to have this conversation to run away now.

After less than a minute of hurriedly drying off, Makoto was wrapped up and headed for her room, pinching her cell phone between her head and her shoulder, plastering it with wet hair as she struggled to get her towel secured. As she stepped hurriedly down the hall to her bedroom, she saw Sae, home from work and eyeing her curiously from her usual spot on the couch. Makoto ignored her and retreated into her room.

She put her phone back on speaker as she hunted around for pajamas to put on. "Sorry Emi, I can talk now… What is it?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't warn you I was going to call first, I just…" Emiko trailed off, and Makoto could hear her sigh. "I just… really need to talk to you."

Makoto paused just briefly in what she was doing, giving her focus to the tone of Emiko's voice. Her panic at having been caught mid-masturbation evaporated, replaced by heavy concern. She pulled her pajama top quickly over her head, then switched immediately into friend-mode. "Emiko… What's the matter?"

"I'm fine," she said, recognizing the apprehension in her friend's voice. "Before you go worrying over me, let me just say that. I'm fine. I just… have something I need to tell you, and I'm really nervous about what it means, and how you might respond to it once I tell you."

"What is it?"

Emiko paused to take a shaky breath. "I think… I think I know who your mystery woman is…"

Makoto took a huge breath, and her wariness fell away, replaced by a feeling of sudden and intense victory. "Oh, Emiko!" she cried. "Really? Who?"

Emiko was hesitant. Tentative. She had to swallow hard to get the words out. "I think… I think it might be Tae. Doctor Takemi. I think it might be her."

Makoto's shoulders sank. "What?" Deeply incredulous, it took her a moment to recover her wits enough to respond. "No…"

"I'm sorry," said Emiko, "I know you must think this is nuts, but I'm almost positive it's her…"

"Wha… What on earth makes you think that?" asked Makoto, shaking her head slowly.

"I've had my suspicions since Sunday. I saw your pictures… You know, the ones of Kosuke Kobayashi and the mystery woman walking out of the bar together? That's Tae…"

Makoto immediately stood up, took her phone off speaker once again, and headed to the living room, to her laptop bag leaning up against the couch where Sae was watching TV. As she swept through the living room in her pajamas, phone to her ear, her sister couldn't help asking her if she was alright. Makoto waved her off and marched right back to her room. By the time she had returned to her bed, her file folder was in her hand and she was sifting through the pictures.

Pulling the closeup of the woman front and center, Makoto studied the picture with renewed scrutiny. "I… I don't see it, Emi…"

"I know, she doesn't look quite right, but I think it's her in a wig. Look at the one where she's getting her keys… Do you see the lanyard?"

Makoto nodded. "Yeah, I see it…"

"That alternating white-on-black, black-on-white skull pattern? That's Tae's lanyard! I know because I've been carrying her keys with me since Saturday! That's a really unique lanyard… And it even shows her I.D. badge hanging there too."

Makoto made an incredulous noise. "You couldn't possibly make out what's on that I.D. card… That could be anyone's…"

"Well, the lanyard is the important part…" insisted Emiko. "The woman in the photo looks enough like Tae that I think she could be that 'Doctor Legs' you mentioned!"

"Emi…" began Makoto, still shaking her head in disbelief. "But… That's not her face…"

"I think she just has a weird expression, that's all… That's why it looks so unfamiliar…"

Makoto's mind raced. She didn't know Tae all that well, but Ren did, and he was an excellent judge of character. "But, Emi… There's no way Tae is a killer… She's been helping me, even. With this case, I mean."

Emiko's blood froze. "What do you mean? How has she been helping? I got some very weird texts from her this evening… I didn't respond, but they almost came across like a confession, or a suicide note or something… What did you tell her about your cases?"

"Yesterday, when I went to see the medical examiner, she was there. I told her…" Makoto tried to think. "I told her what you told me about the blood pool, and the volume… That you thought he might have died before the train…"

"Did you tell her the same woman had come up in both cases? That you had doubts about Kento's suicide?"

Makoto tried to remember. "I… I think so… I think I told her I was worried that the suspect in Kosuke's disappearance had been at the train station the night Kento died."

Emiko sighed, and made a noise like she might be about to cry. "Mako… These texts… I think… I think she has Kosuke…"

Makoto wasn't unsympathetic, and she wasn't angry, but this line of questioning was getting to her, and in spite of the tears she could hear threatening to come in her friend's voice, she couldn't keep the frustration from her tone. "Okay, read me the texts you have that make you think that."

Emiko sniffled audibly, and pulled her phone away from her ear. "Okay, I put you on speaker so I could pull up my texts… I'm alone though, so you don't have to worry about what you say… Just a second…" There was a quiet moment while Emiko switched apps from phone to text. She took a deep breath, then began reading: "Okay, this is it… 'Good evening, my little intern… I'm sorry I missed you again today… I wasn't really ready to talk about it until now, but there's been something very much on my mind for several days now… It's your fault, really'…" Emiko paused to take a shaky breath. "'But I mean that in a good way… Last spring, I lost someone very dear to me, and it's been bothering me ever since… Ever since his death, I've been trying, and failing, to put it behind me… Then, when you and I were first getting to know one another, you said something that made it so much… worse'…" Emiko was fully panicking now, and was struggling to read.

"Emi? Are you gonna be okay? Is there more?" asked Makoto.

"Yeah, there's… more…" she said, between choking breaths, trying to keep from breaking into tears. "Sorry, I'm… trying to get… through it…"

"Take your time," said Makoto patiently.

After another moment of Emiko trying to get control of herself, she continued. "'I had made the comment' —this is her again, now— 'I had made the comment, "You can't help someone once they're dead," or something like that, and you had said, "But you can help them tell their story"... After that, it was like I could hear his voice again, begging me to… help him tell his story… And finally… I think I can…'" Emiko took another rest to catch her breath. "'So I wanted to say, "Thank you," my little intern, and I'm sorry… Because I think… you're going to have… a lot more… days of sha-hadowing Doctor N-Nagatomi a-head of you'…" Barely able to complete the last sentence, Emiko finally broke down sobbing as she concluded reading the texts.

Makoto was silent, processing all that she'd heard. "So…" she began tentatively, "what do you think she meant by 'help him tell his story'?"

"I don't… know!" she cried, battling her spasming diaphragm. "It just all sounds so… ominous! And then she says I'm gonna be stuck with Nagatomi! …Is she saying she's gonna kill herself!?"

Makoto cocked her head, considering. "Try not to get carried away… That's one interpretation. She could've meant something completely different…"

"If she's sending this now because she's caught wind of the fact that the police are onto her, she might be planning something… drastic!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, Emi…" said Makoto, trying to prevent Emiko from falling any deeper into her panic and despair. "Tae told me she knows who did Kento's autopsy. That M.E. wasn't in the office yesterday, but Tae said they had a good relationship and she would be able to get answers to my questions without it causing problems. She said she was there doing work on something else anyway—presumably on another body, but I didn't pry—and she would run her tests on both subjects. She said if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day today, that we would connect tomorrow and she'd tell me what she found out. So, before you go losing your head about what all of this means, can you keep it together until tomorrow?"

"What if something bad happens before tomorrow?!" asked Emiko, still in a state.

Makoto took a breath. "Do you know her address? I could pay her a visit…"

Emiko shook her head, not that Makoto could see. "No, I don't…"

"Okay, well…" she tried to think what else she could do. "I'll show the picture to Ren. Would that make you feel better? They were pretty close back in high school, and he just saw her recently. If he says it's not her, it's not her."

Emiko shuddered some more, thinking it over. "Yeah… If he said it wasn't her… that would make me feel better…"

"Okay, then I'm gonna call him right now, okay? Are you gonna be okay until I can get back to you with what he says?"

"I think so, yeah…"

"Okay good, 'cause I've had a helluva time getting him on the phone these days… We keep missing each other…" There was that frustrated tone again.

"Okay, just… let me know as soon as you know, okay?" Emiko was audibly less agitated just for knowing that Makoto was going to do something.

"Alright, I'm gonna hang up now. Go… drink some tea, or something. Or maybe take a bath…"

"There are no bathtubs in the dorms…" said Emiko, wistfully.

"Tea, then. Good night, Emiko. I'll text you with his verdict."

"Okay. Thank you, Mako-chan. I appreciate it."

"I appreciate you too. I know it can't have been easy for you to tell me all of this. It's going to be okay, though."

"Okay… Thanks…"

"Okay, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. Bye, Mako-chan."

"Bye, Emi." Finally, Makoto hung up the phone. Not without considerable irritation, she found the app she was looking for. She cursed under her breath, "One of these days, I'm gonna spring for a fucking iPhone…" Tapping the call button, she tried to get Ren on video chat.

A moment later, his face appeared on her screen, looking perplexed. "Oh my god, am I not being butt dialed? It's nice to see your face, but don't you fucking hate Google Meet?"

"Yes, of course I hate fucking Google Meet, but this is an emergency…" she said, not trying to be funny, in spite of the thick, wry humor of it all.

"It must be…" said Ren, getting up from his desk to go recline on his bed. "So what's up? I tried calling you about fifteen minutes ago, but you didn't pick up."

"Sorry, I must have been in the middle of furiously getting out of the bathtub. Emiko called me too, and I've been on the phone with her ever since."

"Aw, dammit… You couldn't have Google Meeted me from the tub?"

In spite of the seriousness of the occasion, Makoto cracked a modest smile. "Not now," she said. "I need to show you something."

"Okay, lay it on me."

Makoto switched her phone's camera out of selfie mode and aimed it at her Nightlife CCTV photos. "I want you to tell me if you recognize this woman." She did her best to hold her phone steady as Ren examined the photo.

He took a few seconds to look at what she was showing him. "Handheld video of a grainy photo is not the easiest thing to make out," he said, finally.

Grunting, Makoto quickly turned the whole phone around to aim it at herself so he could see her looking frustrated. "I'm not supposed to text or email police evidence to outside entities, so you get fucking Google Meet, okay? Look, I just need you to tell me if this is Tae or not." She aimed her phone back at the photos lying on her bed.

"Tae?" he said, utterly surprised. "Oh, hell no… I can't see her that well, but there's no way…"

"Emiko is convinced this is her."

"What? Nuh-uh… The hair's wrong, the outfit's wrong… Tae would never carry a purse like that… That smile shows entirely too many teeth… There's just no way."

"I even showed this picture to Sojiro today, and he said he couldn't recognize her. He would know Tae Takemi if he saw her, right? Even if she was wearing a wig?"

"I'm sure he would—she's still a regular at Leblanc. It's not her, I'm positive."

Makoto threw up her hand in consternation. "Well, apparently the mystery woman and Tae keep their keys on identical lanyards, so Emiko is losing her shit."

"Oh damn, that's your mystery woman from your missing husband case?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Well, I can honestly tell you that Tae Takemi had many opportunities to take advantage of me when I was drugged out in her office, and I'm nearly almost positive she never did."

Makoto switched her phone back to selfie mode so she could see the look she was giving him. "'Nearly almost positive', huh?"

"Yes, nearly almost. So, I can say with ninety-nine point nine percent certainty that Tae is not a sexual predator."

"I feel so reassured, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Makoto sighed with finality and laid back in her bed, pushing the photos out of the way. "My god," she said. "I'd have had a much different evening if you'd called me just five minutes earlier."

"Is it too late to pretend that I did?" he asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid it is. I have to text Emiko with your verdict on the mystery woman's identity."

"Won't that just take a second?"

She sighed. "I'm just way too wound up right now," she said. "Half an hour ago, I wanted nothing more than to touch myself while listening to you talk, but if I did that now, it would taint the experience. Sorry."

"Oof… Well, I might touch myself after I get off this call then. That's not an image I can easily put out of my mind…"

"You're allowed," she said. Staring at one another through their shitty Google Meet windows, they exchanged regretful sighs. "I should really go," she said. "But I know you'd said you had a fucked up day yesterday, and I've been wanting to help you process whatever it was."

"It's alright," he said, "don't worry about it. You have enough on your plate right now, and I've had a day to work it through already. I'll catch you up another time."

She smiled at him. "I appreciate that, honey."

He smiled back. "I love you, my queen."

"I love you too," she said. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Of course. Bye, Makoto."

"Bye." They paused just a touch longer to study one another's faces, before finally ending the call. She set her phone down on her chest and cried out in frustration, "Uugghhh!" Grabbing the pillow from next to her head, she held it over her face.

Sae's voice meandered in from down the hall. "Everything okaaay?"

"Ye-esss!" Makoto called back, lifting the pillow so she'd be heard more easily. "I just—hate my life, that's all!"

Sae's head popped in from just outside the doorway. "Want a glass of wine?" she asked, a sly smile playing at her lips.

Makoto gave a resigned sigh. "Let me just send this text, and I'll be right out."

— — —

Back at her home, a tidy two-bedroom house nestled into a cozy residential area in Yongen-Jaya, Tae slipped her heels off just inside the front door. The drive home had helped to calm her nerves somewhat, but she still felt on edge. Dropping her oversized purse onto the couch, her first stop now that she was inside was the kitchen—to the fridge for a glass of white wine. She filled her glass, leaving the bottle on the counter as she took her first sip. The sip turned into more of a glug, and Tae was left with less than half of what she'd started with. After refilling her glass to the top, she put the bottle back in the fridge and headed into her home office, plucking her purse back off the couch along the way.

Sitting down at her desk, she pulled the autopsy reports out of her bag and studied them one more time while she let her desktop computer boot up. On a legal pad at her desk, between sips of wine, she jotted some vital statistics. Once her computer had fully loaded, she double-clicked the MedTrack icon on her desktop and input her credentials. From the database's home screen, she clicked "Advanced Search" and began typing the parameters of her inquiry. "I think I might be crazy, Mamoru…" she whispered.

Just then, a knock at her front door made her jump with a start. "To be continued, Mamo-kun," she said, activating her computer's screen saver and slipping her reports back into her oversized purse. Wine glass in hand, Tae got up and headed to the front.

Through the glass in the door, Tae could easily make out the face of her visitor, and opened the door with a smile. "Misako, hi! Wow, I wasn't expecting you, come on in!"

"Hello, Tae, how are you?" said Misako, stepping inside. Tae closed the door behind her.

"Not bad. I take it you got my message. Would you like a glass of wine? I was drinking alone, but I'd gladly take company." She stepped into the kitchen to once again top off her glass.

"No thank you. I drove here, and I'm far too much of a lightweight to start drinking. I just came to check in. Your message got me… sort of worried about you."

"I'm sorry about that. I'm glad you're here though—I can't put this out of my mind, so I'm glad to have you here to process it with. Wanna have a seat?" Tae motioned to the sofa in the middle of the living room.

Tae and Misako took seats next to one another on the sofa. Tae crossed her legs and took a sip of her wine. Misako sat straight up, holding her purse in her lap, watching Tae, giving her space to start the conversation. "You've been out of the office for three days, Misako. Is everything okay with you?"

Misako shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine—it's family stuff. My mom isn't doing well, so I've taken the last few days to be with her. I think she's going to be okay, but I might have to move her out of the home she's in."

"That must be difficult, I'm sorry to hear that," said Tae.

"It is what it is," said Misako. "Right now, it's you that has me more preoccupied. In your message, you mentioned going to the police?"

"Yeah," said Tae, looking dour. She paused, breathing a great sigh. "Do you remember Mamoru?"

"Mamoru…" said Misako, repeating the name back. "Remind me?"

"He was my friend who died last spring, remember? He hanged himself—for no reason that anyone could discern." Tae mouth drew itself into a deep frown.

"Oh! Mamoru, that's right…" said Misako, recalling old memories. "I'm sorry, I didn't remember his name."

"That's okay. Anyway, I've been… really stuck… over what happened to him. We didn't see one another often, but I followed him on Facebook. I didn't really notice that he'd stopped posting stuff, but once I heard that he'd died, I realized it had been weeks since his last post. His posts had been so happy… That he would kill himself, then, at that time, when everything in his life seemed finally to be going how he wanted it to… It's just been eating at me, ever since."

"I'm sorry, Tae," said Misako, laying a reassuring hand on Tae's knee. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

"It's alright," said Tae. "Thank you. And I so appreciate that you volunteered to do his autopsy. It gave me such a sense of confidence that it was you performing the work. I was certainly in no fit state to do it myself…"

"I was happy I could do that for you." Misako gave Tae's knee a kind and gentle squeeze. "But what does any of this have to do with your phone call?"

Tae leaned back against the cushions, rolling the stem of her wine glass between her thumb and index finger. She took a long sip. "So, I was looking at his autopsy report recently…"

"Uh huh," said Misako, leaning forward attentively.

"I just… I felt like he still had a story to tell, so I was looking over the report, and your notes, and all the other ancillary evidence that was collected at the time…"

"Yes?"

"And… I don't think he killed himself." Tae looked Misako right in the eyes. Tae's eyes weren't sad, or angry, or one of any host of negative emotions. Her eyes shone clearly, like they could finally see. As though the clouds that had been obscuring them had parted at last.

"What do you mean?" asked Misako. "I performed his autopsy myself. They found him with a noose around his neck. He died from hypoxia…"

"Yes, you're right, he did. I ran and reran almost all the same tests you did—whatever I still could from the specimens you'd retained. I wasn't looking for a mistake you'd made, I just needed to know—to see it with my own eyes—so I ran it all again. Enough of his specimens were still within the retention window, so almost everything could be redone. He died from hypoxia, that much is certainly true…"

"So? From your message, you made it sound like you were going to turn me in to the police." Misako leaned into Tae, nudging her playfully.

Tae laughed, careful not to spill any of her wine. "I'm sorry about that—I didn't realize that's how it might come across. My mind wasn't going there."

"Reassuring," said Misako, smiling broadly, "but I'm still intensely curious how this story gets us to you calling the cops."

"I'm getting there, I promise," said Tae, chuckling. "So, I had to dig into the MedTrack database to find more information, but eventually, I looked at the photos that Chie took."

"The autopsy photos?" said Misako, cocking her head. "What was noteworthy about those?"

"He had a hematoma on his foot." Tae uncrossed her legs and sat up, leaning forward on her elbows rather than reclining into the cushions as she had been.

Misako continued looking inquisitive, considering Tae's remark. "A hematoma? That's oddly specific… You're sure it wasn't a bruise?"

"I considered that, but it was missing the telltale signs of a bruise, and it was right on top of the medial marginal vein." Tae took a long pull on her wine glass, nearly emptying it.

"Okay. So?"

"So that got me thinking," she said, becoming animated. "Could he have been injected with something? So I started looking for the presence of common injectables: vancomycin, morphine, heroin, dopamine, IVIG… you name it. Nothing. Then I thought, 'What's something you inject that can cause hypoxia?'"

"Okay…" said Misako, looking pensive. "And what did you come up with?"

Tae leaned forward some more and looked straight at Misako. "Propofol," she said. "God damn propofol. He's been dead too long for us to have hung onto the blood bags and his urine, but we still had red-tops, purple-tops, and his hair… I ran a gas chromatography test using a solid-phase extraction, and I found it. I god damn found it. Propofol glucuronide, in every fucking sample—I ran it three times, with each of the different specimens, just to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me."

"Holy shit," said Misako. "You're kidding me. You actually found that…?"

"Preparing the samples was a bitch, but I was determined." Tae tried to take another sip from her glass, but found it empty. She set the glass on the table in front of her before turning back to her friend. "Misako… The extractions from his hair showed he'd been exposed to propofol for weeks before his death."

"Weeks?" said Misako, surprised. "So… What are you inferring from that?"

Tae set her jaw and stared hard at her friend and colleague. "I think… he was killed. I think someone was feeding propofol into him, and he ended up dead from propofol-induced hypoxia. Then they staged a hanging so it would appear he'd died by his own hand."

Misako shook her head disbelievingly. "I don't know, Tae… The weeks' worth of propofol you detected could just have been a sign of propofol diversion. Misuse of propofol isn't that uncommon. He could've—"

"—You're right," Tae interrupted, "It's not uncommon for doctors and nurses and other people with ready access to propofol to become propofol abusers—but it is uncommon for lay people to develop propofol dependency. It just isn't that easy to procure."

"I don't suppose his fiancé was a nurse, then," suggested Misako.

"Ha, no, she wasn't." Tae got a faraway look in her eyes then. "God, she was devastated when they finally found him…"

"Okay, I'm following you," said Misako. "So, is this what you wanted to tell the police? He died over eight months ago, Tae. What do you want the police to do with this information now?"

"Well, there's more," said Tae, lifting her empty wine glass and putting it back down again, disappointed. "There's another one."

Misako got very still. "What do you mean, 'another one'?" she asked levelly.

"Kento Abe," said Tae, with a dramatic flick of her wrist, tipsy from the alcohol. "The New Year's Day suicide who chopped his own head off with a train…"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a miracle I even found it," she said. "I only tested for it because I was already doing all the work to set up the gas chromatograph for Mamoru. Abe was more recent, so I had all his blood samples, and urine too… Every specimen, every time… Propofol."

Misako was stunned. She made an incredulous noise high in her throat, and searched for the words to express what she wanted to say. "But… Why? Why were you even testing his stuff?"

"This is kind of an amazing coincidence, but my old friend's girlfriend—different old friend, of course—his girlfriend is a detective at the TMPD. She came to the office yesterday—looking for you, actually, but you weren't there, so I cut in—she comes in and she says, 'This guy died and no one believes it's suicide!' I mean, she didn't exactly say that, but I'm paraphrasing… And I'm like, 'I dunno, he cut his own head off with a train…' but then she's like, 'But no! Look at this blood pool!' and she shows me the pictures from the scene… I couldn't make heads or tails of the pictures, but I said I'd ask you when you got back—I don't really think that's necessary anymore… Anyway, I said I'd try to help her sort out whether or not it was really suicide. Once I found the propofol, I…" Tae started to trail off, catching her breath. The emotional rollercoaster she'd been on, coupled with the alcohol, had taken its toll on her poise. "I didn't think it was suicide anymore after that. He had about a month's worth in 'im, too…" Tae slurred. As she became more animated over her findings, it was getting harder and harder for her to cover for her increasing tipsiness.

"So… two deaths, both by propofol…" said Misako in wonderment.

"And maybe more coming," said Tae, giving Misako a poke in the leg with her index finger. "I dunno who, but Makoto said she thought Abe's killer might be the same person who kidnapped some guy that's missing…"

"Makoto?" Misako gave Tae a curious look.

"Makoto Niijima, sorry… She's my friend's girlfriend who's a cop now… She's looking for the guy that's missing…"

"I see…" said Misako. "This is all very interesting. Have you taken these theories to the police yet?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Nuh-uh," said Tae. "I'm gonna see Makoto tomorrow. But I wanted you to know, because I think there might be even more… If someone would do this to two people, or three people, they could do it to a whole bunch. This could be the next serial killer… I wanted you to know so you could make your team aware of it, and maybe alert them… have them start adding propofol detection to their battery of standard assays for a while… I thought I might even… spend most of my time on this for a while, if that's okay with you. Go back and look at other old, suspicious suicides…"

"Mmmm," hummed Misako. "I might just do that." Misako smiled, a faraway look in her eyes as she considered everything Tae had laid out for her. She chuckled a laugh. "You know, you're quite incredible, Tae Takemi."

Tae smiled sadly. "I'm not incredible… I did it for Mamoru. I want him to see that I heard him, and I'm here to speak for him… Because… he can't anymore…" Tae's lower lip quivered, and the tears that had been hiding just below the surface for a while finally came out, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Misako turned to Tae and held out an arm, inviting her to come in for a hug, which Tae happily accepted.

Tae cried into the crook of her friend's neck, letting out all the pent-up emotion that she'd been keeping inside for the last week—the last eight months, really. Misako held her securely against her neck.

"Oh, Misako, thank you so much for coming over," said Tae, her face buried in Misako's hair. "I can't tell you how much I—"

The word caught in Tae's throat as she felt a stabbing pain in her neck. She couldn't see, and Misako held her so she couldn't move. One of Tae's arms was pinned between their bodies, but the other reached back to try to claw at whatever was sticking out of her neck. She felt Misako's hand holding something in place there: a syringe.

"Hold still, friend," said Misako, cooing in Tae's ear. "Soon, all the pain will be gone. I promise, it won't hurt. You might even find that it feels good. Just relax, and let me hold you."

Tae's ineffectual squirming slowed, and Misako could feel the full weight of her beginning to fall into her lap. The arm that had been clawing at the syringe fell and dangled limply from her shoulder, dusting the floor at the foot of the sofa. Once she could tell that Tae was fully unconscious, Misako removed the syringe and guided Tae's body back into the couch cushions. Pulling a nitrile glove from her purse, Misako put it on and subsequently returned to her purse to retrieve a small vial of liquid. Using it, she reloaded her syringe and set it on the coffee table in front of her.

Holding her by the wrist, Misako checked Tae's pulse. Tae's heart still beat in her chest, but the rate was plummeting. It wouldn't be long. "Be right back, honey." She planted a kiss on Tae's wrist and got up from the sofa, taking her purse with her. Careful not to leave any fingerprints on the doorknob, Misako opened the door and stepped outside.

Her car was parked just behind Tae's, in a narrow driveway tucked next to the house, out of sight of any neighbors. Reaching into her purse, Misako pressed a button on a key fob to unlock her car. She opened the trunk and pulled out a collapsible wheelchair, setting it up next to the car. She engaged its brakes and opened the back driver's side door of her car. Inside, looking for all the world like he was just enjoying a good nap, was Kosuke Kobayashi.

"Hello, my love. It's time." Reaching into the car, Misako secured Kosuke's wrist over her shoulder and heaved him out of the car and into the wheelchair. From there, she brought him into the house, where Tae lay exactly as Misako had left her.

Misako closed the front door behind her and carefully wheeled Kosuke over to the sofa, where she proceeded to move his lifeless body into the space she had occupied just moments earlier. Though he was already dead, just to make sure that the vial found at the scene was the same one they would find containing traces of his blood, she emptied her syringe into the antecubital vein of his left arm. She then loaded the syringe one final time before wiping off any lingering fingerprints of her own. Misako pressed the syringe into Tae's hand to add a reasonable amount of fresh print evidence, and then inserted it into Tae's arm, depleting its contents. For good measure, she left the syringe hanging awkwardly out of the vein, as though Tae had passed out even as she was administering the dose.

"Now just for a few finishing touches." Standing up straight, she looked down at her two friends to inspect her work. "You two look perfect," she said with a smile. "Now, if I could just find some paper…"

The glow of Tae's computer from an otherwise dark bedroom signaled the presence of a home office. Spying a legal pad under the incandescence of the computer screen, she tore the first page off and returned to the living room where the light was better. Using a pen from a cup on the kitchen counter, she planned to draft a suicide note.

Setting the paper on the counter, she realized that the sheet was not unused—Tae had jotted some notes on it already. There was still plenty of space, however, so Misako simply tore off the top part of the page where the notes had been written. She crumpled that part up and threw it away into the kitchen garbage. Then, she set about writing the letter she had already drafted in her head.

When she was finished, Misako returned the pen to its cup and set the letter on the table in front of the two faux lovers. Misako took one more check of Tae's vitals just to make sure her work there was finished.

It was. Tae Takemi was dead.