Chapter Text
The best place in the entire hospital to get a hot drink for less than 500 yen was a vending machine on the detectives' floor, although the machine had a tendency to not drop the cup in place before starting to pour.
Said machine was doing that again, in fact, forcing Kaito to hastily flick the paper cup down, hissing as he scalded his fingers on the pouring hot chocolate. Stupid machine. But at least he wasn't spending ten times as much in the chain coffee store down in the cafeteria. He was here too often to afford that.
Gold.
Heavens know why. Must we come stare at our unconscious bodies on even a weekly basis, much less more? It's most disconcerting.
Green.
And ain't really helpin' us figure out how to fix this, either.
Kaito leaned his head against the machine and grumbled something under his breath. It was more disconcerting to be with the detectives, reading a book aloud or talking with another visitor, and suddenly have them commenting. If they'd just shut up while he was here, he could reassure himself that they were alive and real, and he wasn't insane--
At least, not schizophrenic. Insane for being Kid, he could handle. Insane for having voices in his head, not so mu--
Gunshots. One, two, and Kaito found himself running... towards the screams starting to go up, towards the detectives' rooms...
Green.
Dammit, Kudo! Karma!
Blue.
NOT my fault!
Kaito skidded around the last corner before their room, spotting hospital staff starting to cluster around a body...
... a woman's body, blood starting to spread out from under her back, lying half-in a doorway that Kaito knew all too well...
Blue.
Safe -- gunman's gone
Not that Kaito needed that hasty deduction; nobody would be near the open doorway if an armed lunatic was still in the detectives' room.
Which was when he noticed that some of the hospital staff weren't just near the door, but rushing into the detectives' room.
There'd been two shots.
A tendril of sickly chill coiled around Kaito’s stomach, even as he darted past an orderly, past the body, slipping into the detectives’ room with barely a glance from the disordered staff. The two beds nearest the door were untouched, Conan and Heiji’s comatose bodies oblivious to the lone doctor by Hakuba’s bed.
Blood oozed from between the doctor’s fingers on the side of Hakuba’s head, an inadequate scrap of sterile gauze barely stopping the flow. A flurry of voices spoke over each other in Kaito’s head.
My head appears to be intact, at least enough so to warrant first aid rather than last rites, Hakuba remarked shakily. If you would be so kind as to inquire as to the extent of my injuries--
WHY AREN’T WE CHASIN’ THIS GUY? Hattori bellowed.
Kudo snapped out orders. Declare the room and hallway a crime scene. Get the staff to back off – that much blood this fast, the nurse is dead, shot through the heart. Call the police, and make sure nobody steps on or picks up a single thing in here. And don’t you touch the gun either! I can’t see if the safety’s on or not.
“Doc…?” Kaito asked. The exchange had taken a split second, and for once Kaito was in no mood to argue with any of the three.
“The kid’s fine,” the doctor replied, an iron veneer of control in his voice. His gaze stayed far away from the door. “Bullet grazed him… I’ll put a few stitches in and wrap it.”
Kaito nodded sharply. “You stay in here. Don’t touch anything.” Against this order, he bent and grabbed a handful of latex gloves from a box under Conan’s nightstand. “I’m on the case.”
Thank goodness for acting skills. It was no trouble at all for Kaito to meld his memories of the trio’s individual styles of taking charge, and get a tone and attitude that would get the growing crowd of gawking and hysterical patients to shut up and obey.
“You, you, and you,” he ordered, pointing at two visitors and a patient trying to peer past the staff. “Back off. I’m taking control of this crime scene. Has anybody called the police yet?” A security guard raised a hand. “Okay. You, stay here and keep guard. Nobody touches the body, nobody goes into or out of this room without a scheduled medical reason – changing I.V.s and the like. You,” Kaito pointed to the second guard, “come with me. Since the murd—“
The second guard interrupted, frowning. “Who are you to be giving these orders?”
“Kuroba Kaito, detective.” Good gods, him, Kaitou Kid, playing detective for real instead of impersonating it! “And as I was saying, since I didn’t pass the murderer running here from the vending machine, he ran the other way. We’re checking the stairwell for evidence, then we’ll come back and start taking witness statements from that end of the hall, past here, and to the elevators.” He repeated the order about entering and leaving the room, then added that nobody was to be allowed within five feet of the body. “In fact, everybody get into your room. If you’re visiting, go visit and stay there. We’ll be by to get statements, and the police will do the same later if I haven’t caught the bastard by then.”
The crowd shuffled uneasily, glancing at each other, then headed back into their rooms, a few dragging children behind them. Doors closed, one by one, until the hall was empty of everyone except Kaito, the two guards, and the body in its widening pool of blood.
Footprints! Kudo and Hattori blurted as one.
The blood was smeared oddly, already being covered by the pooling blood. The killer had just barely brushed the edge of the blood as he escaped; the prints leading away from the body were the partial outline of a single shoe, spaced nearly two meters apart. Kaito set his own foot next to one, careful not to touch.
"Small foot," he murmured. A good size smaller than his own, and his shoe size wasn't that large. It helped when he impersonated a woman.
The next print was smeared, a far smaller drag mark leading into a room where Kaito had spotted a child being led.
The print after that was thinner, the trail already running out.
Kaito followed the traces into the stairwell and peered down the shaft. A pile of clothes lay scattered near the bottom, some hanging over railings: a bulky baseball jacket, a cap that didn't match, and a scraggly blond wig still half in the hat. The guard held out his hand for a pair of latex gloves without being asked, and they headed downstairs.
At the bottom, Kaito found a pair of sneakers under the jacket, handing them off to the guard.
23 cm, Kudo read, noting the edging of blood. So our killer's temporarily sockfooted.
Kaito knelt and tugged the wig and cap flatter, peering inside. “No hairpins.”
Guy doesn’t know how to wear a wig, Kudo said, echoed a half-beat off by Hattori. Kaito relayed as much to the guard.
Baseball fan tryin’ ta throw ya off track, too, Hattori added. Non-fan woulda grabbed matchin’ teams ‘coz they were on the same rack. An’ these ain’t new. Fresh-washed, but not straight outta the store.
Kudo's attention sharpened. Kaito, do you see? There's a dark hair caught in the mesh-- no, don't try to take it out. Send the guard to get a camera from the gift shop, or the maternity ward if the shop's run out, and tweezers -- they should have some in the emergency room.
The thief passed that along, adding a bag to the order: he would need something to carry the evidence in. The security guard charged up to the ground floor, leaving Kaito alone in the bottom of the stairwell.
Kaito let the wig drop back onto the pile and tugged the latex gloves off, rubbing his face with his hand. “I don’t know who the hell you ticked off, Hakuba, but we’re going to catch him,” Kaito murmured.
Thank you, Hakuba began, voice faint. However, I offer the opinion that, since this attempt on my life failed, the culprit will be compelled to return to the scene of the crime, Kaito felt the blood drain from his face, even as Hakuba finished, to rectify their error.
"Oh my god," Kaito whispered. Stupid! Why hadn't he thought of that before charging off down here?
Kaito! Kudo yelled, strongly enough that Kaito almost felt his eye color change. We've got the doctor and the security guard there. The guy's an amateur -- he missed Hakuba -- so he'll have to regroup and think of something else now. We've got the time to gather evidence and witness statements, now stay calm and DO IT.
Right. Poker Face. Impersonate the unflappable detectives on the prowl. Just another heist he didn't send the note for, the target being the killer's identity.
Kaito stood slowly, taking a deep, calming breath, and grinned. "Detective Kid is on the case."
The silence in his head echoed with horror at the thought.