Feel You Near
folder
Death Note › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,232
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Death Note › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
2,232
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Nearest You'll Get
5. The Nearest You'll Get
At breakneck speed, it took Mello almost six hours to get to Edinburgh, and he cursed himself for having forgot that, in spite of his ability to map the shortest route possible in his head, distances here, while not as enormous as the in the US, still were considerable. It would have been faster to charter a small plane, but that would have been more conspicuous too, and he needed that like he needed Bubonic plague.
He set up base in a youth hostel, connected his two laptops, and hacked into the city's police server. He found nothing about Hall himself, but there was something about Hall's daughter, Susie. No case, no arrest, not even questioning, just two anonymous tips, both of which hadn't been followed up upon. One was on record as accusing her of drinking on the job, the other of neglecting a child in her care and not noticing when it fell of a swing and got a concussion.
There was nothing more in the police files, so Mello went for the library's newspaper archives, and Susie Hall's tax records at city hall. He found out that Hall's daughter had worked, and still worked, as a preschool teacher. There was a lot in the newspapers about the serial molester, but no mention of the name River, and no mention of Hall or his daughter. But Mello discovered that Susie Hall had not paid taxes during the months of August, September, and October of 1994, because she had had no income. Whether she'd been fired, suspended, or quit, he couldn't find.
What he did find in the tax records were files on Near's relatives. As he expected, there wasn't a whole clan of them. There was his grandmother, his mother who had him when she was forty-three, and his mother's two younger brothers. Near's grandmother, Nelly, had died when he was five and was already at Wammy's, Near's mum, Wanda, had lived of welfare until her death in 1995, the youngest brother, Wilbert, had died before Near was born, two years after he had started paying taxes, aged twenty-one. And the other one, Walter... there was no record of him after 1991. No income, no taxes of course, no welfare payments, no unemployment benefits, nothing. All called River, so Near's mum hadn't been married.
Mello tried to imagine Near's family. An old woman with one dead child, two likely good-for-nothing living ones, and a grandchild born probably just when his mother started thinking she would no longer need birth control.
He sat back thinking, and ate some chocolate. Susie Hall... the anonymous tips would have had something to do with her having no income for three months. Drinking, neglect, doing a job where she was responsible for children too small to complain themselves... she wouldn't have lasted a day at Wammy's, Mello thought, but that was not the problem. She was a woman and didn't fit the profile, and she was not related to Near. But her father had suppressed information on the case.
He would have to ask around, but people remembered him, his face now especially, so there was no way he could do it on the sly. Mello looked at the clock. It was 1 AM, time to go clubbing. He found one of the dingier clubs in town, close to the last address of Near's mother and grandmother, and incidentally, not all that far removed from where Hall and his family used to live. He looked around purposefully for people in their forties, too old to hang around in clubs yet stubbornly trying to hold on to their youth, and oiled enough to talk to strangers about everything. If he bought them drinks, they'd keep talking and would forget all about it the next day.
That night he didn't find anyone who could tell him anything he could use, and he left at four AM. He went straight to the Sheraton, guessing Near would go stick to L's style of working comfortably. He was good at identifying anyone likely to be part of Near's entourage, but at this hour, there was almost no one around. Stopping in the middle of the lobby, he looked around, and spotted a short, balding man in a black suit, hurrying to the elevator. Mello followed, got in just before the door closed, unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a bite, while the short man eyed him suspiciously. He got out on the fourth floor with him, and found that Near had the whole floor to himself.
He headed to the end of the corridor, where he was most likely to find Near, but was stopped by a young police man in uniform.
"Excuse me, sir, you can't come in here."
Mello stopped walking, but continued eating.
"I'm sorry, but you will have to leave," the police man said.
A plain clothes officer peeked out of an open door and asked, "Trouble, Rogers?"
"No sir, a civilian--"
The officer looked down on his file and said, "Let him pass."
"Oh...right," said Rogers.
There was no one in the last part of the corridor, and the doors were closed. One suite to the left, one suite to the right. Near's room at Wammy's had been on the left. Mello tried the door, it was open, so he let himself in. Inside it was dark, but the computers were on. He peered inside the smaller bedroom, where Temple was asleep, still in his clothes, but without his jacket, tie, and shoes. In the largest room, Near was asleep too, curled up into a ball, one hand in his hair, the other holding his three favourite fingerpuppets. Mello grinned, and decided to let him sleep. He would catch up himself during the day.
He went back into the main room and sat down before the computers. He wouldn't try to access them, not just because it was unfair, but because it would take him four hours, at least, to even come close to hacking any information Near had encoded.
The communications channel however, was open, and he got someone video-messaging from the US. Mello turned to the screen, and saw Rester. Rester seemed surprised to see him, cleared his throat, and said, "How are you?"
"I am absolutely wonderful," Mello said, and grinned provocatively at Rester.
Unable to hide his annoyance, Rester said, "How is Near?"
"Near is sleeping. Thought you'd catch him off guard at this hour, did you?"
Rester tried unsuccessfully to hide his annoyance, and said, "He's--"
"He's fine. But the case is a bit more serious than inappropriate touching, Rester. He's not happy." Mello narrowed his eyes, knowing Rester could see he wasn't terribly happy either. In his mind, Mello had nicknamed Rester 'Mr Bad Touch'.
"I'm sorry--to hear that."
Mello nodded. He didn't hate Rester, on the bad-touch scale, Rester was small fries compared to what they were dealing with. Rester was positively cuddly, if Mello had died, he thought, Rester would have made a more than decent teddy bear to cling to for Near.
---
Tbc
At breakneck speed, it took Mello almost six hours to get to Edinburgh, and he cursed himself for having forgot that, in spite of his ability to map the shortest route possible in his head, distances here, while not as enormous as the in the US, still were considerable. It would have been faster to charter a small plane, but that would have been more conspicuous too, and he needed that like he needed Bubonic plague.
He set up base in a youth hostel, connected his two laptops, and hacked into the city's police server. He found nothing about Hall himself, but there was something about Hall's daughter, Susie. No case, no arrest, not even questioning, just two anonymous tips, both of which hadn't been followed up upon. One was on record as accusing her of drinking on the job, the other of neglecting a child in her care and not noticing when it fell of a swing and got a concussion.
There was nothing more in the police files, so Mello went for the library's newspaper archives, and Susie Hall's tax records at city hall. He found out that Hall's daughter had worked, and still worked, as a preschool teacher. There was a lot in the newspapers about the serial molester, but no mention of the name River, and no mention of Hall or his daughter. But Mello discovered that Susie Hall had not paid taxes during the months of August, September, and October of 1994, because she had had no income. Whether she'd been fired, suspended, or quit, he couldn't find.
What he did find in the tax records were files on Near's relatives. As he expected, there wasn't a whole clan of them. There was his grandmother, his mother who had him when she was forty-three, and his mother's two younger brothers. Near's grandmother, Nelly, had died when he was five and was already at Wammy's, Near's mum, Wanda, had lived of welfare until her death in 1995, the youngest brother, Wilbert, had died before Near was born, two years after he had started paying taxes, aged twenty-one. And the other one, Walter... there was no record of him after 1991. No income, no taxes of course, no welfare payments, no unemployment benefits, nothing. All called River, so Near's mum hadn't been married.
Mello tried to imagine Near's family. An old woman with one dead child, two likely good-for-nothing living ones, and a grandchild born probably just when his mother started thinking she would no longer need birth control.
He sat back thinking, and ate some chocolate. Susie Hall... the anonymous tips would have had something to do with her having no income for three months. Drinking, neglect, doing a job where she was responsible for children too small to complain themselves... she wouldn't have lasted a day at Wammy's, Mello thought, but that was not the problem. She was a woman and didn't fit the profile, and she was not related to Near. But her father had suppressed information on the case.
He would have to ask around, but people remembered him, his face now especially, so there was no way he could do it on the sly. Mello looked at the clock. It was 1 AM, time to go clubbing. He found one of the dingier clubs in town, close to the last address of Near's mother and grandmother, and incidentally, not all that far removed from where Hall and his family used to live. He looked around purposefully for people in their forties, too old to hang around in clubs yet stubbornly trying to hold on to their youth, and oiled enough to talk to strangers about everything. If he bought them drinks, they'd keep talking and would forget all about it the next day.
That night he didn't find anyone who could tell him anything he could use, and he left at four AM. He went straight to the Sheraton, guessing Near would go stick to L's style of working comfortably. He was good at identifying anyone likely to be part of Near's entourage, but at this hour, there was almost no one around. Stopping in the middle of the lobby, he looked around, and spotted a short, balding man in a black suit, hurrying to the elevator. Mello followed, got in just before the door closed, unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a bite, while the short man eyed him suspiciously. He got out on the fourth floor with him, and found that Near had the whole floor to himself.
He headed to the end of the corridor, where he was most likely to find Near, but was stopped by a young police man in uniform.
"Excuse me, sir, you can't come in here."
Mello stopped walking, but continued eating.
"I'm sorry, but you will have to leave," the police man said.
A plain clothes officer peeked out of an open door and asked, "Trouble, Rogers?"
"No sir, a civilian--"
The officer looked down on his file and said, "Let him pass."
"Oh...right," said Rogers.
There was no one in the last part of the corridor, and the doors were closed. One suite to the left, one suite to the right. Near's room at Wammy's had been on the left. Mello tried the door, it was open, so he let himself in. Inside it was dark, but the computers were on. He peered inside the smaller bedroom, where Temple was asleep, still in his clothes, but without his jacket, tie, and shoes. In the largest room, Near was asleep too, curled up into a ball, one hand in his hair, the other holding his three favourite fingerpuppets. Mello grinned, and decided to let him sleep. He would catch up himself during the day.
He went back into the main room and sat down before the computers. He wouldn't try to access them, not just because it was unfair, but because it would take him four hours, at least, to even come close to hacking any information Near had encoded.
The communications channel however, was open, and he got someone video-messaging from the US. Mello turned to the screen, and saw Rester. Rester seemed surprised to see him, cleared his throat, and said, "How are you?"
"I am absolutely wonderful," Mello said, and grinned provocatively at Rester.
Unable to hide his annoyance, Rester said, "How is Near?"
"Near is sleeping. Thought you'd catch him off guard at this hour, did you?"
Rester tried unsuccessfully to hide his annoyance, and said, "He's--"
"He's fine. But the case is a bit more serious than inappropriate touching, Rester. He's not happy." Mello narrowed his eyes, knowing Rester could see he wasn't terribly happy either. In his mind, Mello had nicknamed Rester 'Mr Bad Touch'.
"I'm sorry--to hear that."
Mello nodded. He didn't hate Rester, on the bad-touch scale, Rester was small fries compared to what they were dealing with. Rester was positively cuddly, if Mello had died, he thought, Rester would have made a more than decent teddy bear to cling to for Near.
---
Tbc