Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Red Initials
I woke up in a cold sweat that night. I had the prior night too. In fact, ever since coming back to London I had regularly been experiencing these night terrors.
My name is Doppo Kunikida. I studied mathematics at a prestigious school, among various other things, and later went on to teach maths at that very school. However, that didn’t last long as I got bored and frustrated of it quite quickly. Now I envy the peace and quiet that mundane life had brought me. I enlisted as an assistant medic in her Majesty’s Armed Forces and was soon deployed to Afghanistan with a close friend who had studied medicine. I spent a little over 3 years there and witnessed countless deaths, including that of my friend. What I witnessed in my time there has haunted me ever since and I fear it will continue to do so indefinitely. Now I’ve moved back to London in search of a tranquil place to live out the rest of my days. I was injured near the shoulder (shot in fact) and ever since my leg’s been acting up. I struggle to walk properly and often find myself relying on a cane.
In order to achieve that peaceful life I so yearn for, I decided to find myself a job. At first I thought I could put my medical expertise to good use in a practice, however that proved difficult seeing as I didn’t have a proper medical degree, merely my experience in the field. Then I arrived at a simple solution. I could go back to teaching mathematics. So I ventured to visit the campus again. It had certainly changed a significant amount in the past few years, especially considering I had last visited no more than 4 years ago. As I wandered aimlessly around the campus, lost in my thoughts, I heard a faint noise. Suddenly I snapped out of my trance to find my old colleague, Mr. Santoka Taneda, was sitting on a bench and waving at me. I walked over, slower than I’d like for my leg was tired after walking around all day.
“Doppo kun, nice to see you again,” he greeted me with a kind smile. Mr. Taneda was much older than me and had actually already been teaching when I was a student here, but eventually we became colleagues. He was friendly and agreeable, yet extremely intelligent. He seemed to have a knack for handpicking the brightest and most dedicated students. When I was studying here he simply taught literature, but when I started working as a teacher he had become the head of admissions. We’d often share a beer at some pub or restaurant after work or on days off.
“I didn’t expect you’d be back from Afghanistan so soon. Don’t tell me you got shot or something,” he continued. I stared blankly and replied, “In fact I did.”
“…oh.” He replied, averting his gaze so as not to continue the awkward exchange. Did I miss a joke here? “Well I’m sorry to hear that, but it is nice to see you again. How’s London treating you?”
To be honest I had missed London. I grew up in the countryside, near Oxfordshire, but I never liked the silence there. London was much more to my liking. The busy streets, while crowded and disorderly, provided a sort of comfort.
“It’s been alright, I suppose. To be honest I doubt I’ll be here for long. Paying for a decent flat on an army pension is hardly feasible, and I’ve got no family or relatives so to speak of, so finding a flatmate would be near impossible. Perhaps I’ll move back to the countryside or-”
I was cut off by Mr. Taneda’s chuckle. ‘Had I said something strange?’ I wondered.
“Excuse my sudden outburst, but you see, you’re the second person to tell me that today.” He stood from the bench and motioned for me to follow. Someone else had approached him about needing a flatmate? Either was incredibly fortunate or I’d been brought back to London for a reason.
“Someone else...Ah excuse me,” I said, “May I inquire as to where it is we’re going?” I had been so lost in thought I hadn’t even realized we had begun to walk back towards the entrance of the campus.
“Well to meet your new flatmate of course. I sincerely believe you two will get along just swimmingly. Perhaps it was fate you meet.”
‘Just swimmingly’? Honestly, who says that anymore?
***
After a while of walking and some idle small talk, we arrived at a small building, right next to Scotland Yard. ‘Whoever this is, they must be somewhat high profile to be found at a place like this’ I thought to myself as Mr. Taneda and I made our way through the long hallways of the building. From the demeanour of the people inside and the awful smell I concluded this must have been a research facility or hospital perhaps. If I had to guess, that smell was likely coming from the mortuary, which to my dismay, appeared to be our destination.
“Here we are,” said Mr. Taneda, abruptly stopping in front of a dark red door. He knocked twice and said, “Hello, Osamu san? I’m coming in,” before harshly swinging the door open.
“Honestly, can’t people see I’m working here? Jeez…”
That snarky remark came from a man standing in the middle of the room with a female nurse behind him. He was average height with messy brown hair, a light blue shirt with thin stripes on it, covered by a dark vest and tan overcoat. In his hand he was holding a solid black riding crop and the nurse behind him was rapidly noting something in a small notebook. It was somewhat reminiscent of my own, barring the leather binding on it. Mine was green and had a large label on the cover. In front of the two people was a long mortuary table with a lifeless body on it. The body was mostly covered with a stained cloth, but what I could see of it looked like it had been through hell. I almost felt bad for the corpse. The man placed the riding crop on the table and approached me with interest.
“Sorry Osamu san,” replied Mr. Taneda, “I wasn’t aware you were in the middle of an experiment. I brought a friend, Doppo kun.”
“I prefer Kunikida. It’s a pleasure to meet you...uhm…”
“Dazai. Dazai Osamu. Tell me,” Dazai got uncomfortably close to my face and said, “ Afghanistan or Iran?”
“Excuse me?” I exclaimed. This remark came as a shock. Had Mr. Taneda told him about me already? No, that’s preposterous and in fact impossible. I had only mentioned I was looking for a flatmate to Mr. Taneda this afternoon and had walked all the way over here with him immediately after. There would have been no time to send a text or call him, and even if Mr. Taneda had called him, I would have surely noticed and asked about it. So how did he know I was abroad?
“I asked you, Afghanistan or Iran. Which one?” Dazai continued, still uncomfortably close to me. I backed up a bit and replied,
“Afghanistan, but...How did you know?” He stepped closer yet again, which made me slightly uncomfortable.
“Simple really. I came to Mr. Taneda this morning complaining about how no one would ever find me a suitable flatmate and therefore I would soon get run out of my comfy little flat, and low and behold he shows up a few hours later with a ‘friend’ who’s posture is that of a soldier and who’s unnatural tan ‘round his wrist and neck shows he’d recently been in an area with harsh sunlight. He’s obviously experienced in medical fields since he was unfazed by the display in front of him, yet didn’t practice medicine as he still flinched at the smell from the corpse. Someone who despite having no real injury in his lower area, developed a psychosomatic limp, likely due to extreme stress and some traumatic experience. You insist it’s a real limp, yet despite having walked all the way over here you didn’t ask for a chair when you came in. So a soldier, who is looking for a flatmate since his army pension doesn’t cover the cost of living in London, who was in an active warzone with harsh sunlight and only dismissed recently because of his mental condition, Afghanistan or Iran.”
I was in awe. This man could tell so much about me after having only met me a couple seconds ago.
“I know you must-”
“That was incredible,” I cut him off.
“Huh?” He seemed slightly disrupted by my reaction, but instantly regained his composure and reveled in the compliment.
“Why thank you Doppo kun!!”
“It’s Kuni-”
“You hear that Taneda san?? At least someone here appreciates my intellect. Oh I do think you'll prove to be an excellent flatmate indeed.” It seemed he was going to launch into another lengthy monolog, but he was promptly interrupted by a knock on the door. It swung open and in the doorway stood another nurse, this one much younger than Dazai or the nurse next him. He seemed no older than 18 and had ominous black hair that faded into white at the ends. His eyes were void of all emotion and he had a stack of papers tucked under his left arm.
“Dazai sama. You’re wanted in room 364. Please promptly finish up and make your way over-”
The kid was stopped by a violent coughing fit. Dazai and the nurse seemed unfazed by this display and the kid exited as soon as he was done.
“Well, that’s my cue,” chirped Dazai. He scribbled something on a scrap of paper and handed it to me as he went out the door. “The address. 221B Baker Street. Let’s meet there at 12 o’ clock tomorrow and scope the place out. I look forward to it, new flatmate.”
He giggled to himself and left. I held the paper in my hand and stared at it for a couple seconds. Then up at the wall. I turned to Mr. Taneda. He simply shrugged.
What a lunatic.
***
221B…
I looked up to find a two story brick house. Next to it was a restaurant and to the other side a couple of residences. This was the place Dazai had mentioned and looking at my stopwatch it was exactly 12:00, no sooner, no later. I glanced around impatiently. Personally, I deeply value schedules and pride myself on never being late. I’m fact, I keep a very detailed schedule not only for my day to day but for any occasion that might arise, all in my notebook. However, looking around, it was evident that the man from yesterday was nowhere to be seen. I should have known to start with. That greasy hair and unkempt appearance were clear indicators of an irresponsible, lowly, no good-
CRASH
My upsetting spiral on all the undesirable things about that man was cut short by a loud sound coming from inside the brick house. It was followed by shouting and more loud noises. I ventured to press my ear against the door in order to see if I could make out what was going on, though, in hindsight, that’s certainly an invasion of privacy. The shouting didn’t cease so I lifted my head back and pondered, ‘should I go in to check if everything’s alright’? I tested the door knob and to my surprise it was unlocked. This was definitely an invasion of privacy, but if someone was in danger…
I flung the door open and was met with a disastrous sight. A fork flew right past my face and hit the stone walkway behind me. There was a steep stairway and a small landing in front of the door with a coat and hat rack to the side and a lovely green chair (with countless forks and knives sticking out of it) to my other side. Behind the chair was the man from yesterday, cowering in fear of the girl on the landing of the stairs. She had long red hair tied back in two massive braids and a simple dress with a multitude of patches and sewing marks on it. In one hand she was carrying a drawer that had been ripped out of its corresponding armoire and in the other hand she gripped a fork, ready to launch it at me.
I froze in fear as I tried to comprehend the situation, but felt a slight tug at my pants. I looked over and saw Dazai motioning for me to join him behind the couch, but I’d honestly rather get hit by the silverware that had been scattered across the room than do that. The girl gasped and hurriedly made her way down the stairs and towards me.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” As she went down the stairs she picked up silverware and placed it back in the drawer.
“It’s quite alright,” I managed. If I weren’t so desperate for a place I might have just left that very instant.
“No, I sincerely apologise. Osamu san, or well, this man,” she pointed to the green chair with a spoon she was holding, “drives me nuts. It’s entirely his fault.”
“How the hell is it my fault you almost lodged a fork in his eye? Also it’s Dazai san, not Osamu...” muttered Dazai, still pouting behind the chair. The girl threw the chair aside and held Dazai up by the collar, though it was somewhat ineffective seeing as she was significantly shorter than him.
“Watch your tone, I’m your landlord and you’re 3 months overdue in rent. You’re lucky I haven’t thrown your scrawny ass to the streets yet,” she threatened. Wait, she was the landlord?! This small girl. She could easily still have been in school.
“Um..Excuse me miss..”
“Lucy,” She said, “Lucy Maud Montgomerry. Nice to meetcha.” She offered me a hand, but it was still holding a handful of silverware, so I simply grabbed onto the silverware to shake her hand.
“Miss Montgomery, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Kunikida Doppo and I was supposed to be Dazai kun’s flatmate, but seeing the situation I’ll gladly leave you two to your business.”
“Wait- Doppo kun!!” Dazai called out as I turned to leave. I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked back.
“Mr. Kunikida,” started Lucy, “While I admit Osamu san is a certified dolt, he usually has good… ish intentions. The flats here are nice and relatively cheap, and they’re all I have to live off of, so please consider staying. I’ll even throw in some spare silverware if you’d like!”
It took all I had in me not to shudder. I took a moment to think. While it’s true I didn’t have many other living options, did I really want to share a flat with this nut job? I suppose I had encountered a serious problem.
“Then why don’t I stay one month,” I replied after a bit, “and see if I like it here. If I don’t then I’ll leave. If I do choose to stay however…” I turned to Dazai who was now seated in the green chair adjusting the bandages wrapped around his arm, “then we’ll be flatmates I suppose.”
Feeling satisfied with my conclusion I set my coat on the coat rack and removed my coat.
“Marvellous,” Lucy chimed in, “What of the 3 months rent then?”
That sentence hit me like a bag of rocks. I had almost forgotten this dimwit was in 3 months worth of debt... at least 3 months worth of debt . Who knew how much more he owed if he was not even able to pay his rent. I sighed and begrudgingly responded.
“I- I’ll settle his debts...on the condition that he refrains from getting into debt again.” I shot a look at the idiot on the chair. He was grinning widely. His stupid grin made me want to commit an act of violence the likes of which I’d certainly be incarcerated for. Yet, for some reason I couldn’t seem to forget the wonder I felt seeing him read everything about me in mere seconds yesterday. I had been thinking about him all night. …. it. I had been thinking about it all night .
Upon hearing this statement Dazai shot up from the chair and made his way up the stairs.
“Thank you Doppo kun, for your benevolence, I promise I won’t disappoint!!”
“It’s Kunikida k-”
“Now let me show you our flat. It’s rather charming if I do say so myself.”
He says “our” flat as if he hasn’t been living there already for god knows how long…
***
The room was a complete and utter mess. There were clothes thrown all over the place,
pieces of wallpaper were falling off the walls, test tubes and beakers laid out all around the dining table. I checked the refrigerator to see if Dazai had groceries. I expected it to be mostly empty but instead it was filled with bags of eyeballs, fingers, other random body parts, and a single loaf of bread taken over by mould.
“How do you live like this?” I ventured to ask, genuinely astonished at the poor condition of the flat. Dazai simply shrugged and said he ‘Never really thought about it’. There were two bedrooms. One was Dazai’s and looked like a landfill. The other was completely untouched and likely the only neat thing in the whole flat. I let out a deep exhale and made my way back to the living room.
“So, what do you think?” asked Dazai in a cheerful manner. I was appalled that he even had the gall to ask that and was about to reply with a furious rant about the state of the flat, but was beaten by the sound of the doorbell.
“Osamu!! It’s the Detective Inspector!! He says he has a case for you!!” came Lucy’s voice from downstairs.
“Send him up!!” replied Dazai. ‘Detective Inspector’ I thought to myself. I realised that while Dazai seemed to know a great deal about me, I knew virtually nothing about him, and now I was to move in with him. Perhaps he was a cop or detective. That would explain being at the mortuary, keeping body parts in one’s fridge, and having a casual visit from a Detective Inspector. Or worse yet, could he be some sort of criminal!?
“Heya Dazai san,” said a voice as the door opened. “It’s been a while eh?” In the doorway stood a relatively short man. In reality he looked almost like a kid, but something about his voice gave me the impression he most certainly wasn’t. He wore a brown cap and belstaff millford style coat. His hair protruded from all sides under the cap. He had a white dress shirt under the coat and brown shorts that matched the rest of his clothes as well as sporting some worn dress shoes. He looked like what anyone would imagine when someone says ‘detective’, aside from the messy hair.
“Got yourself a flatmate, I see,” he continued, pointing at me while making his way to sit on a stained couch on the other end of the room.
“Yes, indeed,” replied Dazai. I supposed he must have told his boss about me. “Ranpo kun, this is Doppo kun. He’s just returned from-”
“Afghanistan, I know. Also it seems he prefers you not call him Doppo. Either way, I have a case for you.”
How was it that everyone seemed to know so much about me lately?
Dazai pulled me over to sit on the chairs opposite the couch Ranpo was on. When we were all settled, Ranpo continued.
“The station received an interesting report of a suspicious death and while I’d love to go investigate it myself, I have prior arrangements. I’m helping some old friends in Paris track down a thief who stole several priceless vases and paintings from many different museums. It’s not the most interesting case but it unfortunately does require my physical presence so I trust you’ll handle this case for me.” Ranpo tilted his head and offered a grin,
“Of course Ranpo kun,” responded Dazai, prompting Ranpo to stand up and head towards the door.
“Excellent, that’s what I like to hear! I’ll text you the address. Poe is already waiting there with a brief and anything else you may need. Oh and feel free to bring your friend along, he seems useful.”
With that he slammed the door shut, leaving Dazai and I alone in the two chairs. There was an awkward silence. I didn’t dare speak for fear that he might rope me into cleaning the flat for him while he was out, or worse, pay for his cab fare to the station. Finally, Dazai broke the silence.
“Well then, we better head over. Ranpo just sent me the address,” he waved his phone in my face in an attempt to show me the text he’d received.
“We?” I challenged. “Who said I’d be joining you?”
“I did. You’re somewhat intelligent, I’m sure you could provide at least some worthwhile insite.” I’m not sure why but this comment, him assuming I was simply going to follow him around blindly, infuriated me so much. Up until now I had simply tolerated it, seeing as I’d been so impressed by his talents, but this was the final straw.
“Pardon my bluntness, but I will not be joining you.” I spoke carefully, trying with excruciating care not to shout at him. I must maintain my composure and be the adult in the situation.
“Huh, why not?”
Why not? WHY BLOODY NOT?!
“Sir, I’ve only been acquainted with you for a day and a half. No, not even. I’ve known you for a total of 2 hours and I’m already taking on a great burden paying off your debts, all just to be stuck as your flat mate for the next month out of my sheer idiotic belief that it is unfair of me to judge people by my first impression of them. I will admit your pompous display yesterday piqued my interest and left me with a feeling I’d never experienced before, however that feeling alone will not overshadow my pride enough to allow you the chance of making a fool out of me. Whether you wish to go investigate some crime is none of my business and you shall find me still in this chair when you return. Good. Day.”
In hindsight I’m not especially proud of my impolite outburst, but this man is so infuriating, so absurd, so…egotistical.
There was a moment of quiet. I didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of checking to see his reaction, but after several agonising seconds of staring ahead at the wall in complete and utter silence I gave in. I shifted my gaze slightly so I could just make out the chair next to me in my peripheral vision. He was doing the same as me. Simply sitting with his hands pressed against each other and lifted up to chin, while staring dead ahead at the wall, quite intently I might add. Then he turned to me and spoke.
“You were a doctor’s assistant in the war, weren’t you Kunikida Kun?”
He had clearly understood the severity of my previous statements as he no longer spoke in a cheerful and frankly quite annoying tone, but rather a more muted manner of speech. It was incredibly hard to describe this tone of voice.
“Yes, I was,” I responded. In truth, I was a bit taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude.
“So you’ve witnessed many atrocities I take it?”
“Enough for a lifetime…No, more than enough…”
He paused at this, then swiftly stood up from his chair and offered me his hand.
“Care to see more?”
I looked at the hand, outstretched towards me. So many thoughts raced through my head, none of them coherent enough to actually provide any useful information. Before I could comprehend the meaning behind any of my thoughts I placed my hand in his and pulled myself up.
“Oh god yes.”
***
It was about a 30 minute walk over to the address provided to us by Ranpo. We walked half of the way in silence but eventually Dazai started complaining that he was hungry and my naivety led me to ask him what he wanted to eat when we got back. This sent him on an absurd rant on the flavour of different types of crabs which I shared no interest in.
When we arrived we were met by a tall man with a strange sense of fashion. He had relatively long hair and dark hair that trailed down the back of his neck and covered his eyes. It could easily have been neatly managed in a ponytail, as I do. He wore a strange vest and even sported some high heeled boots.
“Good afternoon, Poe kun!!” Dazai greeted the man with a firm pat on the back. That would have been perfectly natural in any other case but this man seemed to shiver violently with each landing of Dazai’s hand on his back. “I trust Ranpo mentioned we’d be coming by.”
“Y-yes, indeed he did. I had to pull some strings to get you two in there. It’s not like you leave the best impression on people Dazai san. Oh, wait. One moment.” Poe dug around his vest’s inside pocket and pulled out a manilla folder. He handed it to Dazai and continued.
“This contains the autopsy report and any relevant details. The victim appears to be a man in his early twenties with dark hair and fair skin. As of now we do not have a positive identification of his identity, however from my simple deductions I believe he is somewhat wealthy. The cause of death seems to be a single stab wound to the abdomen and he’s been dead for no longer than 24 hours.”
As Poe spoke Dazai reviewed the document, making sure to tilt it towards me slightly so I could read along with him. Poe had just barely finished talking when Dazai blurted out.
“The autopsy says there were traces of some unidentified compound found on the body. Why hasn’t it been identified?”
“I-”
Before Poe could respond Dazai sauntered past him and into the house, lifting up the yellow tape to allow me through. I nodded to Poe and thanked him before scurrying after Dazai. The main areas of the house were clean and orderly yet empty somehow, it even gave a feeling of abandonment. What a dreadful situation…I truly hate abandoned buildings. The murder had apparently taken place in a bedroom. Dazai continued to the room without a second thought and upon spotting the body immediately bent over it. This room, in contrast with the others, was an absolute mess. In the leftmost corner was a massive wardrobe against which lay the corpse. As mentioned in the autopsy, he had a single stab wound to the abdomen, but no knife protruding from the wound. Dazai was bent over him, lost in his deductions. I wandered over, taking care not to step on anything that might be considered evidence. I squatted next to Dazai and he shifted his gaze towards me.
“It was a sedative.”
“Pardon-” As per usual, Dazai cut me off.
“The real cause of death. He overdosed on a sedative. Though I doubt it was self administered. If it were he’d likely still be holding the bottle of sedatives, but said bottle is nowhere to be found and before you try and express a semblance of a thought I guarantee if you check the whole of the room- No, the whole of the house, I guarantee you won’t find it. The stab wound was a red herring that serves two purposes. One; to confuse the impossibly incompetent Scotland Yard. Two; this.”
Dazai shifted to the side and revealed two initials written in red substance, directly above and to the right of the victim’s head. It read “R.R” in large scratchy letters.
“Is that-”
“Yes,” Dazai countered, “It’s blood. You can test the blood and I’m certain it will be this unfortunate individual’s. Now for the rest of the room!” Dazai eagerly shot up and moved back to survey the whole room. In the 10 seconds it took me to prop up my cane and lift myself back up Dazai was already on the other side of the room waiting for me eagerly.
“There are two aspects of interest in this case. Firstly, the initials on the wardrobe and the ring.”
“What ring?” I mentioned, but before I could finish Dazai had crouched next to the wardrobe and squeezed his hand under. He removed his hand and held a small golden band up to the light.
“This one,” he gave me a shit eating grin and offered me the ring so I too could inspect it. I do not appreciate his patronising attitude.
“If you check the inside of the band you’ll notice engraved on it are the same initials ‘R.R’ so the question now is, who is R.R? Well that’s fairly obvious given the context. Care to take a guess?”
I took a minute to observe the ring. It was likely this was a trap to make me look like a fool and play to Dazai’s ego, but I had come up with an answer I was fairly confident with.
“Well the ring is small, definitely smaller than the victim’s finger, so it must be either the culprit’s or it belongs to the owner of the house. Likely a woman or child.” Dazai gave me a nod and for a moment I had a spark of hope.
“Well done, very well done!! However, you missed almost everything important relating to that ring,”
Damn you Dazai.
“Your observation that the ring was far too small to fit on any man’s finger is true, however the footsteps near the backdoor and entrance are clearly much larger. Gauging from the size of the sole being somewhere near a size 11 or even 11.5 I’d say he’s anywhere between 170 and 180 centimetres. However, the length of his stride is abnormally short and inconsistent. Along with that people tend to direct their vision right about eye level, but if we observe the initials on the wardrobe once more, you’ll find it is significantly lower than it would be if what I mentioned previously were true. Therefore either the culprit has a disability of some kind or they contorted their body a great deal in order to write those initials at that height.”
“What makes you say the culprit wrote the initials? They were written in the victim’s blood,” I responded.
“What a stupid and obvious question. I expected better from you Do- um, I mean Kunikida kun. The initials are written so any onlooker can read them, if the victim had written them they would be flipped so as to match his field of vision. Furthermore, he would have had to twist his arm in a rather painful way to be able to reach the spot where the initials were written, so it’s quite obvious that the initials were written by the culprit. Now, moving on,” I was still taking a moment to understand what he had said prior and Dazai was already up and about again, continuing to the next piece of evidence.
“There are drops of blood leading to this door and on it’s handle a quite messy bloody smear. Now there's no clear definition of a hand or hand print so the culprit must have been wearing gloves, which begs the question. If this was so methodically planned out, why was the crime scene such a mess and why were there so many easy to cover clues left behind?”
I pondered the question Dazai had presented, but before I could get too far Poe walked in.
“Excuse me, Dazai san. Your time is just about up, if you could please-”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware. We’ll be taking the back exit.” Dazai motioned to the door with the blood smear on the handle. He pulled a napkin from his back pocket and carefully twisted the doorknob, then held it open for me to follow. “Good day Poe kun!! Send my regards to Ranpo!!”
“So why exactly are we going out through the back?” I asked, walking slightly behind Dazai. He stopped in his tracks and viewed the pathway. It was overgrown with foliage, but the stone pathway was still clearly visible. Dazai bent down and dug his hand into one of the bushes, then produced from it a pair of dirty brown shoes.
“This.” The shoes were clearly a man’s and they appeared to be dress shoes, though the amount of dirt and grime on them defeated the purpose of ‘dress shoes’ as a whole. “These were the shoes the culprit used to leave those footprints inside the house, however these are not the culprit’s actual shoes. They’re much too big for the culprit, so in order to dispose of them easily and aid in their escape, for I fear it would be rather hard to run in shoes that are not your size, the culprit simply chucked them into these bushes. No one would think to look there. Well, no one but me of course. Now how do I know these are not the culprit’s actual shoes? That’s tediously simple really, take a look at this.”
He guided me to a grassy patch right next to the path that blended into the neighbour’s path. Clearly visible within the mud were a couple small footprints.
“These footprints are the whole key to this case, for you see, our culprit was not in fact a tall man with a large foot as initially thought. Our true culprit is a much shorter woman, taking the guise of this man in order to hide her own identity, and perhaps even frame him in her stead. This would explain the irregular height of the bloody initials and certainly makes sense with that tiny ring I found. Now the question is, why?”
“Incredible!!” I exclaimed, without meaning to.
“Really? Do you think so? I mean it’s just basic observation and deduction,” Dazai replied. Clearly he was not used to praise over his ability.
“Yes, you took the seemingly random facts of the case and connected them in a clear and understandable way. Now your attitude could use some work but-”
“Thank you Doppo kun.”
I simply nodded and replied, “Sure.”
***
By the time we got home it was around 4:00. We spent the majority of the afternoon sitting in silence. Dazai was absorbed in the case and kept talking to himself as if addressing me. I doubt he noticed when I left the room to help Miss Montgomery acquire a box of expired biscuits that had been left on a shelf far too high for her to reach. It was around 9:30, right as I was preparing to turn in, that we received a phone call.
Dazai shot up from the chair, to the other end of the room, and snatched his cellphone from the mantle. He pressed it eagerly to his ear, grinning all the while. I couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the line but it was a rather short conversation in which Dazai kept replying “Perfect” after every few seconds. When he was finished he shoved the phone into his pants pocket and grabbed his tan coat. He was halfway out the door before he turned back and asked me, “Are you coming?”
Though I had plenty to say to him about automatically assuming I would continue following everywhere he went on a random whim as I did today, I simply nodded and grabbed my own coat. In truth I had been just as anxious to receive new information on the case as Dazai.
***
We arrived at the mortuary a little after 9:50 (there was a lot of traffic). It was the same one from the day before and when we entered the room Dazai had been told in his phone call I recognized the nurse that greeted us. It was the same nurse with short black and white hair that had cut Dazai and I’s introduction short. He was holding a grey file and clipboard in the same hand. His face was cold and almost scary, but as soon as he noticed Dazai it seemed to light up (ever so slightly).
“Dazai sama, I have the post mortem report you asked for,” He offered us a seat. As I sat down I noticed the conspicuous pile covered by a sheet on the table across the room. Presumably that was the body from the house. “I did the toxicology tests as you recommended and you were right. There was a considerable amount of a certain brand of sedative in his stomach. Now the sedative alone is not particularly dangerous, but in the quantity found in this man’s stomach it is certainly lethal and in fact likely the real cause of death.”
He spoke in a harsh and concise manner, the total opposite of Dazai’s playful and self-indulgent monologues.
“Aku, Aku, slow down. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t facilitate some kind of introduction first,” Dazai grinned all the while, but the nurse didn’t seem to be affected in the slightest. “Kunikida kun, this is my apprentice, well sort of apprentice, Akutagawa Ryunosuke. He’s studying to become a doctor himself so I said I’d get him an internship at the lab I volunteered at. A few months later and bam! The kid’s got himself a full time job here.”
Dazai precariously leaned in and whispered in my ear, “He seems to think I’m some kind of legend or something, so I just let it slide,” before turning back to Akutagawa.
He continued: “Aku, this is Kunikida Doppo. He’s my flatmate and official secretary!!”
“WAIT A MINUTE!! LIKE HELL I AM!!”
The kid interrupted in a completely serious tone, “It is truly an honour to meet the man worthy of being not only Dazai sama’s flatmate, but his secretary too, I hope we ge-”
“I AM NOT HIS SECRETARY!!!”
After taking a minute to calm down and explain to Akutagawa that we were simply acquaintances and how I was helping Dazai with the case (for some reason unbeknownst to even me), we all turned our attention back to the autopsy.
“Would you like to investigate the body, Dazai sama?” Akutagawa asked, already lifting up the sheet.
“Actually, I think I have most of what I need just from that toxicology report. If you don’t mind,” Dazai slipped the grey file under his arm and stood to leave, “we’ll be taking our leave.”
Akutagawa set the sheet back down, sparing me from the horrible stench lingering beneath. As we made our way to the exit, Dazai spun around and abruptly said, “By the way… What was the name of the sedative you found in this man’s stomach?”
“Pentobarbital.”
“Thank you,” he sang, and slipped out the door.
As soon as we got outside the building, Dazai’s stomach made a loud noise and he offered to take me to dinner in return for my generosity paying off his 3 months of debts. It was already about 10:15 and I didn’t have the energy to look for a restaurant myself, much less cook something, so I hesitantly agreed. It was a surprisingly quaint family restaurant, which was totally the opposite of the type of restaurant I’d imagine Dazai in. We sat down at a table in the corner and waited. My leg still ached from the amount of walking we had done today so I was more focused on that than my dinner partner and didn’t even realise that he had pulled out the case file and started talking about it. I quickly tried to react and keep up with what he was saying.
“So from what we know our culprit is someone small, likely a female or female presenting person. They’re also clever, very clever, seeing as they set up fake clues to try and divert our attention and even attempted a fake cause of death to delay our investigation. Now that begs the question, why? Why go through all this trouble to kill our victim and then frame someone else. I believe that ring and those initials R.R. are at the centre of all of this but…”
Despite how interesting the case was and how exhilarating it had been to watch Dazai expertly explain the twists and turns of it all, I was growing very weary. Perhaps it was the sudden overexertion of my leg or the mental strain of trying to keep up with all of Dazai’s revelations regarding the case, but every minute we sat there waiting for our meal it became harder and harder to keep my eyes open.
“Kunikida kun?”
My eyes snapped back open instantly. Without noticing I had drifted to sleep in the middle of our conversation. I was so embarrassed. I was preparing to explain that it wasn’t usual for me to fall asleep while others were talking and that I didn’t mean to offend him with it, but I was promptly cut off by Dazai’s obnoxiously loud laughter.
“Tell you what Kunikida, why don’t we put the case to rest for today huh?”
I felt a tinge of guilt for literally falling asleep while Dazai was talking , but his casual remark and nonchalant demeanour put my worries to rest.
“What do you suggest we talk about instead then?” I offered.
Dazai rested his head in the crook between his thumb and pointer finger while he thought, then just abruptly as before exclaimed, “I know! Why don’t we talk about love then?”
It caught me totally off guard. I’ll admit I’m easily flustered, but the suddenness of his remark made all the blood on my body shoot up directly to my cheeks.
“Excuse me!?”
“Yeah, love!! You know I’m somewhat popular with the ladies myself~” He teased before once again erupting into laughter. This time some people sitting near us started looking, which didn’t help make my face any less red.
“Why that Dazai? It’s such a narrow topic, I mean what is there even to talk about really?” I tried desperately to divert the topic.
“Oh loads of things,” Dazai continued. He seemed insistent to pursue this topic after the reaction he’d gained from me. “Say Kunikida, do you have a girlfriend?”
I took a moment to choose my words carefully so as not to say anything out of place.
“No. Nor do I care to elaborate on it. ‘Girlfriends’ aren’t really my area of expertise.” I tried to diffuse the situation and move on to a more suitable topic.
“Oh so you’re gay!”
I stared at him blankly for a couple seconds, processing what he just said and everything that had led up to it. What could I even say to that? He started to talk again.
There was total, awkward, anguishing silence.
“Hey, Kunikida kun, if that made you uncomfortable I’m really sorry, I was just trying to lighte-”
“It’s alright,” What else could I say? “Yes. I am in fact inclined towards men romantically. I’d have liked to bring it up on my own terms, but seeing as the opportunity to clear things up once and for all has presented itself already…”
“That’s fine. Personally I like either. Girl, Boy, Both, Neither, however someone chooses to identify, it doesn’t matter to me. Also you can just say gay, it’s easier.”
Even with the stress of the current situation and my exhaustion from the day’s activities, somehow I managed a smile. In fact I started to laugh a little. I’m not sure what it is about him, but something about Dazai just made everything so fun. It was hard to believe we had only met a day ago, seeing as we were already talking like old friends. Sure, he was irresponsible, messy, eccentric, probably a tad sociopathic, and almost entirely broke, but today was the most fun I had had in my entire life. Though it did take a bit to admit that. The comfortable silence was broken by a waiter finally coming to take our order.
***
The food was great and we spent the rest of the time talking about ourselves mostly. Dazai didn’t seem to want to open up too much, so I didn’t pry, but I did learn that Ranpo had been his mentor and had apparently “saved his life”, though I’m not sure if he meant literally or metaphorically. He had apparently met Lucy, the landlord, during a case. It was believed her mother had murdered her father for some unknown reason, then run away to avoid charges. Lucy, having been left behind in the midst of all this chaos, took advantage of the fact that she and her mother shared a name and started renting out the rooms of her complex as flats. Dazai was assisting Ranpo on the case and it’s one of the few cases Ranpo never solved. Every time Dazai brings it up Ranpo simply says “it’ll solve itself when the time comes” which means nothing to Dazai. As for Lucy, she still believes that her mother is simply awaiting trial despite it having been more than 5 years since the case. Dazai decided to keep an eye on her, though he denies any of this and says it’s just a coincidence.
We passed by my hotel room on the way home. I packed up my few possessions and checked out. By the time we got home it was well past 12:00 am so we said brief goodbyes and each went to our rooms. The bed was surprisingly soft and as soon as I sat upon it all the exhaustion hit me like a wave and I decided I’d organise my things in the morning.
As I closed my eyes and slowly lulled myself to sleep, I couldn’t help but think about Dazai. He’s so smart and proactive. Why is it then that he insists so heavily on not revealing anything about himself. He’s so infuriating.
***
“PENTOBARBITAL!!”
I awoke to a deafening shout and as I shot up in bed to grab my glasses, I found myself face to face with that insufferable idiot Dazai.
“ARGHHH!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON MY BED!!”
I kicked and pushed to force Dazai off the bed and he lept off, completely unfazed. What a wonderful alarm clock I’ve found myself. I snatched my glasses off the bedside table and adjusted them on my nose. Then, turning back to Dazai, who now stood in the middle of my room, trenchcoat and all, and motioned for him to continue.
“PENTOBARBITAL!!”
“Yes, I heard you the first time, what about it?”
At this point he was just pushing his luck to see what he could get away with after our “heartfelt” conversations at dinner yesterday.
“It was so obvious this whole time!! How could I possibly have missed it?”
“Missed what?”
I was seriously losing what tiny fragment of patience I still had that kept me from strangling him right here and now.
“Pentobarbital is a sedative, yes, buuuuuuuuut. But, but, but, but, but! It’s most commonly, in fact almost exclusively used, as an animal sedative. So then how would our culprit get their hands on some of it, much less enough to kill a grown adult man? AND, more importantly, why use pentobarbital? Why not another drug? Come, quickly, get dressed! We’ve a full day ahead of us and there’s no use to sitting around in bed any longer, come along!!”
I was so dazed I only really understood half of his mini monologue, but from what I could understand this was a game changer, a break in the case. I quickly shooed Dazai out of my room and got dressed, tucked my phone and notebook into my vest’s pocket, and prepared to go out. When I entered the living room I saw Dazai next to the phone scribbling away on a notepad. Before I could open my mouth to announce that I was ready Dazai interjected (without looking up from his notepad, mind you).
“You’re ready? Perfect!! I just got word from Poe at Scotland Yard. They’ve IDed the victim and you’ll never guess the name.”
He put the notepad aside and eagerly ran towards the hallway door.
“His name is Richard Ridgeson!! That may just be our R.R. Oh boy, it must be Christmas!!”
He threw his trenchcoat back on and pulled me by the hand, bounding down the stairs to the bottom landing.
“Lucy, don’t bother with breakfast today, the game is afoot!!”