V: The Chief
V: The Chief
The police headquarters hadn't changed much over the years. The smell of stale coffee and old cigarettes still hung heavily in the air. I made my way, unescorted, to Chief Yagami's office.
His face had grown a few more wrinkles and his hair was sprinkled with a bit more white, but beneath those few superficial changes he was still the same man I knew and respected. He'd always reminded me of the chaplains that had returned from the War-someone that had seen enough to be broken and remolded into something sharp, patient, and strong.
To my surprise, Light was also in the room. I had already guessed that the chief was Light's father (it wasn't hard to figure out, since I'd been told a surname and occupation) but I hadn't known that Light ever became involved in any of his father's cases-beyond going behind his father's back and contracting a private investigator, of course.
The chief stood, nodded to me. "Hello, L." He motioned to the boy. "My son, Light."
We shook hands, as if meeting for the first time. I quirked an eyebrow. He shook his head imperceptibly. For someone I'd known for less than a day, we communicated surprisingly well. "Nice to meet you," I mumbled. He gave me some sort of mindless awe-filled compliment about my history as a detective. I got the distinct impression he was teasing me, although there was nothing but sincerity in his coffee-colored eyes.
Light left (or, more accurately, was dismissed), leaving me alone with the chief. We sat down. I removed my hat, placing it in my lap. I couldn't help but wish Watari were there instead.
"How did he die?" I asked, mentally wincing at how broken my voice sounded.
"It was his morning medication that did it, we think. He died within minutes of taking it." The chief was always to-the-point. It made things a little easier.
"Do you suspect foul play?"
He shook his head. "Most likely, it was an error made by the nurse who prepared his medication. They try to be careful, but occasionally their hand slips or they miscount. Accidents happen." He spread his hands, palms out, like he was a priest at the end of a sermon.
"An accident. Just like Ukita?" I reached into my jacket pocket and casually slid the letter and envelope onto his desk. He only needed to glance at the letter to know what it was. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, damn. Not another one." After a moment's hesitation, he strode to a filing cabinet and pulled out a file. "Officer Ukita fell off his roof when he was cleaning his gutters. He was talking to his neighbor at the time. There were two other eye witnesses. The letters from Kira weren't found until two days after we started our investigation-it's quite possible that someone planted the letters after his death." He handed me the file-it was the report on Ukita's death. Glancing through it, I could see that it backed what he had said.
"Possible," I parroted quietly.
I must have touched a nerve. "We can either believe that someone has the supernatural power to kill someone in front of witnesses in a seamless accident, or we can believe that someone is playing a tasteless joke so he can pretend to be powerful. Which do you think is the better explanation?"
I gave him back the file, set my hat on my head, and pulled the brim down low. "Let me know what you find out about Otaharada's death."
His eyes softened. He pressed his fingertips together under his chin. 'Now let us pray for the misguided detectives, amen.'
"L, I know this isn't the way you wanted it to end, but it's over. All of the asylum staff have had thorough background checks. None of the guests were anywhere near Otaharada or his medicine. We'll still do our investigation, but...L, he's dead now. The BB Serial Killer is gone. You can finally put all this behind you. It's over."
He took a deep breath. I could tell he had been preparing for this. His words had sounded a little too rehearsed; they flowed with the unnatural perfection of a fine-tuned machine. "I would like you to rejoin the police force as an outside consultant. You would get the same pay and benefits given-"
I cut him off. "I'm sorry, Chief. I'm already on a case."
I walked out of the room before he could say anything else. He was wrong, of course. The BB Serial Killer case would never be over, not as long as I was alive.
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