THE SPECTER OF SUTŌKĀ
Chapter 2: "Under The Microscope"
A Sailor Moon fanfic
By Bill K.
Superintendent General Natsuna Sakurada looked up from her computer when she heard the knock on her office door. She was about to acknowledge the knock, but a head popped through the open door first. It was a woman, youngish-looking, with short black hair and sunglasses incongruous for the indoors. Sakurada recognized the woman instantly, as she could only be one person.
"You busy?" the disguised Minako Aino asked.
"V-Chan," Sakurada smiled. "Have a seat. I can finish those crime statistics later. How are you?"
The woman, stylish in her designer jacket and skirt, flamboyant for her job and yet at home as Sakurada's image, rose from her desk. She ushered Minako into a seat.
"So is it true that you're about to sign to do a new film?" Sakurada asked in her capacity not as head of police in Tokyo, but as head of the Sailor V fan club as well as the Minako Aino fan club.
"Looks promising," Minako replied distantly. Sakurada picked up on it immediately.
"Problems at home?" she asked. "Senshi problems, maybe? Nobody's harassing you, are they?"
"Hmm?" Minako asked suddenly, her head snapping up. She relaxed quickly. "No. I just . . .I assume you heard about Itsuki Enomoto?"
"The actress that was stabbed to death?" Sakurada replied, her police instincts kicking in. "Did you know her?"
"Professionally. We were two vets of the media wars."
"Oh, yes. You two appeared together in that high school comedy you did on television. And wasn't she in 'Revenge of the Blind Ninja', too?"
"Haven't thought of that one in a while," grinned Minako. She sobered quickly. "Yeah, Itsuki and I went back." She turned to Sakurada. "Any idea why that guy killed her? I just can't understand it."
"He'd been stalking her," Sakurada replied conclusively. Minako reacted with shock. "We had five different complaints from Enomoto-San. He'd gone to court each time and served two sentences for counts of trespassing and menacing. They'd just released him two weeks ago."
"Why?" demanded Minako.
"He'd served his time. There wasn't anything we could do. Maybe Queen Serenity can hold someone without charges past their sentence because he might be a threat, but we can't. And I don't have the personnel to put a surveillance team on him round-the-clock."
"So you were worried that he'd try something? Did he try to kill her before?"
"No record of it," Sakurada informed her. "But cases like this have been known to escalate. Apparently that's what happened. During interrogation, Kusakabe admitted that his objective was," and she glanced at a report on her computer, "'to send her to the afterlife and then join her so they would be together forever'."
"That's nuts!" gasped Minako. "Why was this guy running loose?"
"Psychiatric evaluation came back with a diagnosis of obsessive-compulsive, but non-violent," Sakurada read. "He hadn't done anything more than break into her house once or flood her mail with rambling love letters, so the courts quashed a commitment order."
"And now she's dead," Minako replied bitterly. "Guess they got that one wrong."
"We do our best, V-Chan," offered Sakurada. "Sometimes people slip through the cracks."
"I know, Nat-San," Minako mumbled. "But she's still dead. All because she made the mistake of doing a public appearance to plug a movie she didn't even like. Makes you wonder what she did to set him off. I mean that could happen to any of us in the biz."
Sakurada's eyes narrowed. "Has it ever happened to you?"
"Outside of my 'other career'?" Minako quipped. "Well sure, I get R-rated fan letters all the time. Have since 'Bloodbath at Bikini Beach'. You'd be shocked at how many guys think the way to a girl's heart is bragging about what they'd do to you in . . ." She glanced at her friend. "You don't think . . .?"
"Do you still have those letters?"
"Not the paper copies. I tossed them. Artemis might still have the e-mails. I get those, too. Or he could get his paws on them very easily. Why?"
"If you'll forward them to me, I'll have them checked out," Sakurada told her. "See if any red flags come up."
"Oh, come on, Nat-San! I'm a Senshi!"
"Know your enemy, V-Chan," Sakurada replied. "Know your enemy."
"Mail's here," Haruka announced as she entered the room. Having just completed her morning run, the blonde was dressed in a baby blue tank top, black bicycle shorts with a yellow stripe up the side and New Balance running shoes. She leafed through the handful of letters as she entered. Her skin still gleamed with perspiration.
"Anything interesting?" Michiru asked absently as she sat curled up on the sofa, sketching on a pad.
"Not unless you want to win a cruise around the Pacific Rim," Haruka replied. She tossed the letters on a table. "Remember when we used to get fan mail?"
"Do you miss it?"
"Sometimes," Haruka admitted. "I can't help feeling that ever since I retired from the Pro Circuit, that people are slowly forgetting about me."
"Well, nobody wants to be forgotten," Michiru murmured. "But that isn't why you did it, was it?"
"You know better." Haruka sat down on the back of the sofa.
"You miss the speed," Michiru said as she sketched.
"I do. The helicopter business is a nice income, but it's not the same."
"Haruka, you're forty-six," Michiru cautioned, looking up at her and putting her hand on her mate's. "You're too old to race cars."
"Professionally," Haruka corrected her. "Besides, look at me. I'm just as healthy and vigorous as I was at twenty-five. I could still do it."
Michiru looked at her with a hard, uncompromising gaze.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to try a comeback," she sighed. "I know how much it worries you."
"If it means that much to you, maybe you could rent a local track and do a few laps in the Reventon," Michiru suggested.
"Can't do that. It would hurt the resale value," Haruka scoffed.
"Since when has that," Michiru began. Then her eyes widened with fury. "You're not planning . . .!"
"Have you seen the new McLaren 750S?" gasped Haruka with a little boy's enthusiasm.
"How much?" Michiru demanded, her eyes narrow.
"Thirty-two," mumbled Haruka.
"Million?"
Haruka nodded.
"No," Michiru replied in a tone that demanded obedience.
Haruka sighed with frustration.
"Haruka, we can't afford it," Michiru added with some conciliation. "Especially now that you're retired from racing."
She could see Haruka wanted to press the matter, but didn't out of respect for her feelings. The romantic side of her brain began warring with the practical side.
"Are there any more - - reasonably priced models that would satisfy this urge?" the woman asked.
"Well, the Lotus Emira is only seven million," Haruka scowled. "It sounds like it handles about as well at the McLaren. And it's the last one with a gasoline engine, so the collector's resale value is bound to go up. If I can get a good price on the Reventon . . ."
"See what they quote you," Michiru sighed. "If we don't have to put down more than a million or two, we might swing it. I guess that means I'm going to have to accept that book signing after all. The personal appearance fee will be a big help."
"Thanks," Haruka bent in and kissed her. "I've got a couple of appearance offers, too, so I guess I'll be taking them. Can't have you paying all the bills."
"You don't like being a kept woman?" smirked the green-haired artist.
"Depends on who's keeping me," her mate replied, rubbing noses with her.
When the guards passed Minako Aino through the gate, they noticed how preoccupied she was. Usually the jaunty woman was quick with a smile and a quip. Not today. She was so lost in thought that she hardly acknowledged their greeting, making the guards wonder if trouble was brewing.
However, Minako was only half way through the front lobby of the palace when she encountered a force that she had to acknowledge.
"Oh, Mina-Chan!" whimpered Serenity, coming up from nowhere and enveloping the blonde in a bear hug. Overcoming her initial astonishment, Minako let the warm, soothing aura of Serenity wash over her. It made her feel a little better.
"Have you been waiting in the lobby all morning for me?" Minako asked.
"No," Serenity replied blankly.
"Then how did you know I was here?"
She shrugged. "I just knew."
"Honestly, you're getting as spooky as Rei anymore. After nine years, I'd think I'd be used to it."
"I'm sorry," squeaked the Queen. "And I'm sorry about what happened to your friend. It's just horrible!"
"Yeah," sighed Minako.
"Do the police know why it happened?"
"The guy was stalking her," Minako relayed as the pair ascended the steps to the second level of the palace. "I guess he was obsessed with her or something."
"Maybe I should speak to him," Serenity offered.
Minako was silent, usual for her. Serenity looked on with concern.
"I guess it's something I've never had to deal with before - - except maybe for Ace - - and look how that turned out. That's sort of the dark side of being famous that nobody talks about. Somebody with two cards short of a deck fixates on you for no other reason than he sees you in a movie or listens to your CDs and all of a sudden you're a target."
"I can imagine," sympathized Serenity.
"You can probably do more than imagine," Minako declared. "Somebody did take a shot at you nine years ago." Minako considered for a moment. "I never worried because I could always become Sailor Venus and kick the snot out of any stalker who got ideas. But Itsuki didn't have that option."
"And you kind of feel guilty?" Serenity posed.
"No," Minako replied. "Well, yeah, maybe. A little. I can't help thinking if I'd known, I could have done something."
"I have those thoughts every time I hear about something like this happening," Serenity told her. "I've had them since I was fourteen and Luna plopped that locket down on my bed."
"Yeah," Minako nodded. "It's all the fault of those nosy cats."
"NO, MINA-CHAN!" gasped Serenity.
"Ah, I'm just joking.," grinned Minako. "It's just - - something like this happens and you feel so frustrated. You wonder if you're actually doing some good in the world."
"I wonder that all the time."
"So how do you cope with it?"
"Ice cream."
Minako turned and gaped at her.
"You'd be amazed at the healing power of a pint of strawberry ice cream," smirked Serenity. The corners of Minako's mouth slowly began to turn up.
"Well, you're the Queen. You know best," chuckled Minako.
"I've got a mini-freezer in my office," Serenity whispered. "Don't tell Luna."
"Got any chocolate?" Minako perked up.
"Let's go find out," Serenity said. The pair scurried to her office.
Ami walked into the hall leading to the residence section of this floor. It had been a long morning. Ami intended to grab a quick lunch and then get back to work in her office. Then she ran into Makoto and realized that there wouldn't be anything quick about lunch.
Ah, well: at least the company will be good for her.
"Were you headed for lunch, Makoto?" Ami asked.
"Hmm? Oh, Ames. I didn't notice you," Makoto said. Instantly Ami studied her friend to try to deduce what was distracting her.
"Clearly it isn't the cuisine in the cafeteria," Ami replied. She sniffed the air. "Isn't that the perfume Minako uses?"
"Yeah, Blondie was just here. She was really preoccupied with something."
'Hmm," Ami murmured and considered the facts for a moment. "I wonder if it's connected to the death of her friend?"
"Who died?"
"A fellow actress named Itsuki Enomoto," Ami related. "She was stabbed to death at a personal appearance yesterday. Minako was a colleague from years back."
"Oh, wow. I hadn't even heard," Makoto mumbled. "They get the guy who did it?"
"Yes, he was held by several civilians until the police could arrive."
"Maybe Superintendent Sakurada called her in," Makoto speculated. "I hope it wasn't to identify the body. Why do you suppose he did it?"
"Speculation is useless without more facts," Ami shook her head. "I would be interested in viewing the autopsy." She got a weird look from Makoto. "For purely clinical reasons."
"Suppose Serenity knows?"
"Perhaps we should find out," Ami nodded. Then her stomach growled audibly. "Um, after lunch."
"Yeah, we don't want you fainting from hunger," grinned Makoto. "If it's all right, I'll join you."
"Only if you promise not to critique the food," smirked Ami, peering up at Makoto over her glasses.
"Don't suppose I could talk you into something that isn't 'efficient and nutritious', huh?" Makoto grinned back.
"I'm open to negotiation," Ami replied.
In the quarters he shared with Minako, Artemis looked at her funny, wondering what was behind the sudden request she'd made of him.
"Well, yeah," he replied. "I've got all of your e-mail archived. You know how producers will promise one thing and conveniently forget about it later."
"Don't I know it," huffed Minako. She sobered. "Think you can send all of the R-rated ones over to Superintendent Sakurada? I've got her address, don't I?"
"Shouldn't be a problem. Why?"
"Nat-San wants to check out the senders - - see if any of them come up on the 'loose and loony' list."
"Where do you come up with these names," Artemis sighed. "Is this about Enomoto-San getting murdered?"
"Yeah," Minako replied, sitting on the back of the sofa. "I was talking about it with her. You know that guy was stalking her? Broke into her home once!"
"Worried?"
"Me? I live in a palace with a full staff of security guards! Besides, I'm Sailor Venus! I handled all sorts of threats. I can handle some psycho with a knife." She noticed the white cat staring dubiously at her. "OK, if someone is out there gunning for me, it would be nice to know. Besides, Nat-San thinks it's a good idea and she's usually right about these things."
Artemis nodded and walked over to the PC that handled Minako's e-mail accounts. She had three: one for personal communications with family and friends, one for business with studios, her agent and the firm handling personal and Senshi licensing, and a third for her fan page. The third account had all of the messages Sakurada was looking for. A few keystrokes later, the messages were assembled into a file and the file addressed to Sakurada.
While he was doing that, Minako was thinking. Itsuki had been at a personal appearance, a publicity function of her up-coming film. The publicity department had set up tables for her and several other actors in the film. They were meeting with fans and people attracted to them because they were famous, signing autographs or posing for "selfies" with the public.
One of the people in line was Ren Kusakabe. According to reports, Itsuki recognized him immediately. She started to get up, but Kusakabe grabbed the lapel of her blouse. Suddenly he had a knife in his hand. He'd stabbed her four times before bystanders wrestled him away. Itsuki was dead before she hit the floor.
Minako brooded over the mental picture of what happened. If she had been in that situation, would she have been able to transform in time? Would she have been able to ward off the knife with the simple karate moves she'd learned for a movie role? As much as it galled her to admit, she wasn't Makoto's equal at self-defense. Could she have handled it?
And more importantly, what was going to happen to Ren Kusakabe?
"File's sent," Artemis announced. Looking over at Minako, he saw the woman donning her black wig and glasses. "Where are you going?"
"Out," Minako grunted. Artemis wanted to ask more, but she was out the door before he could.
Continued in Chapter 3