Beyond Birthday remembered how he had attacked Naomi Misora three days before, on August 16th, in the alley downtown.
Of course, he had known when she would die—had seen how much life remained. Naomi Misora’s life. It was not that time, on August 16th, but much, much later.
Which meant...
If he attacked her with intent to kill, he would absolutely fail. He knew that he would. Ensuring his path of escape was far more critical. Naomi Misora was nothing but L’s servant, and if she died there would be dozens of replacements—from the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA—even the Secret Service. So he had only been testing her. Seeing if Naomi Misora was capable of being L’s substitute.
“Hmmm... mmmm... hmmm... Huh huh huh huh... no, hee hee hee? I could go with ho ho ho ho, but that’s a little too jolly… anyway. Oh, Naomi Misora, you are pretty good. A shame to waste someone like you in the FBI.”
She had passed the test, so far.
Today she would visit the scene of the third murder, and she would most likely find the message Beyond Birthday had left for her. Then she would try to prevent the fourth murder, the victim Beyond Birthday had selected.
That was good.
Only then would the competition begin. Only then would the real game start. The competition between L and B.
L and B’s puzzle.
“If L’s a genius then B’s an extreme genius. If L’s a freak, then B’s an extreme freak. Now it’s time to get ready. There are things I must do before B can surpass L. Henh henh henh henh.”
This thought was the only thing that made him laugh without needing to think about it. And those that know will recognize the laugh of the shinigami.
Still grinning to himself, he faced the mirror, brushed his hair, and began applying his makeup. The reflection of himself in the mirror. Himself. As always, he could not see his own time of death. No more than he could see the death of the world.
So, August 19th.
Naomi Misora was in the west side of the city, in the townhouse where the third victim, Backyard Bottomslash, had lived. She had shared the place with a good friend of hers, but she had been killed while her friend had been out of town on business. Like the second victim’s mother, the roommate had moved back in with her parents after the murder.
Backyard Bottomslash’s bedroom was on the second floor. There was a thumb turn latch just below the knob. And two holes on the walls where the Wara Ningyo had been. One on the far wall, directly opposite the door, and the other on the left hand wall. The floor was covered in a frankly bizarre number of stuffed animals for a twenty-eight-year-old, and the entire room was ornately decorated. There were stuffed animals piled against each wall. In order: two, five, nine, and twelve. Twenty-eight in all. While the room had been cleaned, it still smelled faintly of blood, which destroyed the effect of the decor.
“Where is Ryuzaki?”
She glanced down at the silver wristwatch on her left hand, and saw that it was already two thirty in the afternoon.
They were supposed to meet at two.
Misora had been here since early that morning, checking the place out in advance. She had searched the entire house, not just this room, but five hours later she had completely run out of things to do and was rather bored. And she had failed to uncover anything of interest, which had left her feeling frustrated. She bit her lip, annoyed that she had been unable to figure anything out without Ryuzaki around.
Then the phone in her bag rang. She answered quickly, assuming it was L, but it was her boyfriend and coworker, Raye Penber.
“Hello? Raye?”
No comments:
Post a Comment