Taking Over

Actually, Matt was far too angry, far too distraught to think to contact the Japanese task force right away. The saucer had gone to the wall right after the cup and then he’d turned back to the computers, shaking. He took a deep breath.

He had to jump through a few people to get one of the few who knew his background. He was granted to leave.

“We’d like to send someone with you though, M.”

You fucking whore.

“You still suspect me of being Kira, eh?” Careful what you say. Calm down.

“It is merely a precaution, M. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“All right. Can I pick who, or would you rather?”

“We’d prefer Rester…”

“I want Gevanni.”

There was a pause. “All right.”

He didn’t bother with a goodbye. He slammed the phone down and turned to Gevanni. “Book us a non-stop flight. I want to be in London as soon as possible and make arrangements to get us to Winchester.”

Then he left them.

He sat on his bed in his room, put his elbows on his knees and shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes.

L is dead. Watari is dead. I could have saved Near and Mello. I could have. If I’d gone to Roger something might have been done. I could have saved them. But I didn’t. They’re both dead because of me. And now…now Roger. Because I told him to lie. I believe Kira is in the Japanese police. Young man comes from the police…though he didn’t say what country…it was probably them…Roger dies of a heart attack. Kira went to England in search of information about me because…somehow…somehow…but fucking how? How would he know for certain that Mello was dead just from a photograph? No files are kept on any of us. It would not have been noted anywhere and there would be no way he could get it anyway. Oh, God. Roger, I’m…sorry…

He looked out the window, not really seeing it. He really was alone now, even though he had his team…he was still alone.

This must be how L felt every day.

We were raised with such ambition. Be detectives or whatever. Be like the great L. But they didn’t tell us what it would really be like. They told us about justice and stuff. They didn’t talk about the isolation. Loneliness. The constant paranoia…

They told us not to care. They told us to be prepared. So we were. Or we thought we were but we were kids…none of us really were…none of us…

We thought we were so worldly. They didn’t tell us what it would be like once we left…how people would almost…shun us, because of our intelligence…abilities…everything. They didn’t tell us how we’d get shut out, even if it wasn’t out of any cruel intent. People could get intimidated. People think we are arrogant. People hate us…for being what we are…

And all that…that’s the real world that we thought we knew so much about…

For being geniuses we sure are stupid.

He stayed alone like that for a time, playing over things in his head and then got up. “I suppose I ought to take Rustam up on his offer.”

So he went back.

“We have a flight tomorrow morning at eight. I’ve already booked a hotel in Winchester and rented out a vehicle to meet us,” Gevanni told him.

Matt nodded. “Forgive my outburst. Gevanni, come with me, since I must be supervised.” He rolled his eyes. “I need to go get something.”

None of them asked what.

Rustam looked up when he entered again. At first, he smiled cheerfully, and then he saw the look on his face, solemn, expressionless, except for the eyes.

“I came to take you up on your offer, Rustam.”

“Who is the young man?”

“It’s fine. He’s one of my guys. Gevanni. Where’s your village idiot?”

“On break.”

“Good.”

Gevanni perked at the sound of his own name but then sat down in a chair.

”You do not look well, Jon.”

“I have to go to a funeral. So, black if you could.”

“…I apologize.”

“Don’t.”

“Yes, Jon.”

And from then it was all business. Matt was fitted for a new suit. When Rustam’s assistant came back, Matt glanced at Gevanni, who was just watching.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

The assistant looked up. “Peter.”

“I take it you do know how to do this, right?” He nodded down.

“Yes.” The man wrinkled his nose.

“Then fit him for a suit too.” He nodded back at Gevanni, who sat up a little.

“I have a suit—“

“I know you do. Humour me.” He glared over at Peter. “Make it good. Black. I don’t care about the money part.”

Gevanni looked at him oddly but he got up. He’d never been fitted for a suit in his life. So he just kind of stood awkwardly on the little platform while Peter took measurements. He looked over at Matt, noting how thin and pale he was.

He’s not sleeping again. This guy…must have been someone important. He just completely exploded. It’s like he’s…hard…but fragile at the same time. He looked back into the mirror. I wonder if it makes him feel better if he feels like he’s doing something nice. Geez, he seems so unstable sometimes. But he’s brilliant. I wonder what that’s like. Gevanni furrowed his eyebrows a little. He’s still a kid though.

It seemed like hours before they were finished and the items were put in boxes with tissue paper to better survive the plane ride.


Light arrived back in Japan and went back to the task force immediately.

No word. He blinked. “No word?”

“There’s been nothing from M…should there have been?” Aizawa asked.

“Could it be possible that they kept him in custody longer?” His father asked.

Light didn’t dare contact the United States. If M had his name, he’d be working to get him by now. He’d have to be even more careful until he found out whether or not M had his name.

We keep going back and forth. I get something from him and then he gets something from me. With L…and with M…this is a one-on-one battle. Who will come out on top? But I’m at the advantage. He doesn’t know about the Eyes, shinigami and I have both Death Notes. I will win. He’s not as in control of himself as L was. He’s the one inferior to L. Not me. I beat Rem, L, and Watari. I can take him out.

Aizawa watched the back of Light’s head and then at Soichiro. It must have been hardest for him, his son under suspicion, once again.

But if what M says is true…no. Light can’t be Kira. The thirteen-day rule proves that. L had his suspicions. It’s a lie.

Matt put the suit on in the hotel, smoothed his hair a little and put a different pair of glasses on (he had three). These ones were just black-rimmed and simple. He pulled a black cap down, half-hiding his face.

Gevanni was in another room, adjusting the silver cufflinks and straightening his tie. When he went out he paused a moment. It was still strange seeing Matt in formal attire. The rest of the time, he wore those casual, sometimes ragged, clothes of his.

He wasn’t exactly sure why Matt had wanted him to go instead of Hal or Rester. He had not shown a particular preference among the three of them but it still seemed strange. Maybe he just stood out the least?

He drove them to the cemetery. He had a feeling Matt had skipped the viewing on purpose. They passed a great structure along the way, to which Matt suddenly straightened and looked out. Gevanni just got to read the plate on the stone.

Wammy’s House.

He looked down. Matt had clenched a hand into his pant leg.

“Did you want to stop?”

“No,” Matt said immediately to the window. “No…keep going…” Near, Mello, Watari, L, and Roger.

As planned, they’d arrived late, so spectators and most of the students and professors were gone.

He looked down for a moment when the vehicle stopped, took a breath and got out of the car. Gevanni followed him.

Maybe he would not have wanted to look this way in front of Hal because she’s a woman and he was afraid Rester would think he was weak. I’m the closest to him in age. Maybe that’s why?

There were four people there.

“Matt,” said a brunette woman. She was middle-aged, lines on her face.

Matt nodded. “Beatrix.” He looked at the others. “Trent. Kobel. Lynne.”

He got nods from them.

“L,” said Trent. He was a Canadian with unruly blond hair.

Matt looked at him and shook his head. “No.” He left it at that. So did everyone else.

“Who is that?” Kobel was short man, his skin a cocoa brown.

“One of the people who work for me. Gevanni.” He told them about his technical supervision.

“Bloody idiots.” Lynne rolled her eyes. She was younger, a few years older then Matt and probably French.

Gevanni felt a little uneasy in the company of these people. A sort of underground society.

Matt looked down at the casket. Trent opened it for him and he knelt down. You urged me on…I’m sorry, Roger. He just looked at him, silent, for a few minutes and then stood up, tipping his hat a little.

Matt stood, fists clenched, and watched them put Roger in the ground.

Gevanni watched too, very, very quietly, not looking at the other four people. I wonder if they all went through Wammy’s House too? Do the alumn go looking for other students like Matt or something?

When it was done, the six of them stood there for a moment. Matt smiled a little and took a quarter from his pocket and flipped it on the dirt. “Ha…passage for the ferry-man.”

Kobel, Trent, and Lynne left (though she had glanced Gevanni over and for a split second, he’d met her gaze and then immediately looked away).

Matt and Beatrix stood side-by-side for a moment.

“I remember—“

“Please don’t,” Matt interrupted.

“We could help, you know.”

“No. Stay here and help at Wammy’s House.”

She nodded. She was quiet for a long moment. “Are you going to stay for a moment?”

He nodded and she, with a kiss on the cheek and ruffling his cap, left. He felt numb to that.

He walked away from Roger’s grave to Watari’s and L’s.

Gevanni followed two steps behind. “What is this place?”

“This is a cemetery for those associated with Wammy’s House. Any professors, students, or caretakers may be buried here unless they have left instructions not to do so.”

Gevanni looked down.

Quillish Wammy. There was a great statue of an angel over it, folding hands as if in prayer.

Matt looked at it for a moment before moving on.

He went a little slower now, letting Matt have a few more steps, just hanging in the background, though he could see the name.

L. Lawliett.

Could it be…?

“No one knew his first name. He was probably the only one who did.”

Gevanni stared at the back of Matt’s head, watched him remove his cap. The boy mumbled something, removing his glasses.

He felt a stab of pity. “I’ll go back to the car.”

Matt waited until he was gone to kneel. “I’m sorry, L…I’m not doing you much justice at all…” He patted the stone and went on.

Two gravestones next to each other. Nate River and Miheal Keehl.

He dropped on both knees, bowing his head, clenching his hands, letting his cap fall on the ground. When he looked up again, he swallowed hard. “Maybe neither of you would have let this happen, maybe it couldn’t be controlled…but it’s done now and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Somewhere, way down inside, a tiny little boy wanted to cry, but Matt couldn’t cry anymore. He just stared at the stones for a long, long time.

He touched the dates engraved in the stone. Too soon. Too soon. He took a deep breath. “All right. This is how things are. I am L’s heir now. I will find out who Kira is and kill him. I won’t come back until that day. I swear to God.”

When he returned to New York he didn’t bother to change clothes; he hadn’t at all, actually. He kicked off the shoes, loosened the tie, put the cap down on the desk and tapped in for Cassandra and Matthias, glancing at Rester. “Anything from L?”

“No. Nothing.”

Matt glared. “Good.” And then the ragged-looking woman and the sophisticated older man appeared. “What do you have?”

Matthias adjusted a monocle. “Takimura follows no routine except at his office. He walks around at times—“

“Does he ever go to wherever it is that L hangs out?”

“If he did I had no knowledge of it.”

“What’s he drink?”

Matthias looked at him. “You were serious about that?”

“Yes.”

“Coffee, from a machine, which he takes back to his office.”

He looked to the left. “What about the rest of the time?”

Cassandra stretched a little. “Guy has two kids, a wife, big house. I bugged his house.”

“Does he keep to himself in the house?”

“Depends on his mood.”

“At work?”

Matthias nodded. “He stays in his office. He leaves to get his coffee, sometimes to get a meal but mostly he stays in his office.”

“What time does he leave his house and how long does it take him to get to his office?”

“He leaves every morning at six and, far as I know, arrives at work between six-thirty and seven, depending on traffic. Everyone else gets there around eight or so.”

“That include security?”

“Yeah, he swipes a card to in.”

“Have either of you accessed the cameras to the entrances?”

“That was easy,” the older man told him. “I can access them from my computer.”

“Can you turn them on and off or con it with fake footage?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” He looked at Rester. “Sit down and pay attention, all of you.” He set his briefcase next to him, opened it and took out the small black case he’d gotten from Diante. He opened it and took out two little bottles. “This,” he said, opening one of the bottles and dumping some of the contents into his hand, “is Flunitrazepam. It’s more commonly called Rohypnol. You probably all know what this does.”

“It’s a sedative that depresses the central nervous system. Illegal in the United States,” Hal provided.”

“Yeah…produces a relaxed affect…can cause disorientation…loss of inhibitions sometimes.” Cassandra put in.

“And the nicest side-affect?”

“When someone takes it…when they come out of it…they can’t remember what they did.”

“Exactly.” He looked at the young woman and the older man. “I’m sending Rester to Japan. He’ll meet one of you and the three of you hook up and get this guy as soon as you can—whether it be before work or after but get him at his office. He’ll have this with him. Drug him up and get all the information you can out of him.”

“But he’ll be sleepy and disoriented.”

“I know. Don’t be dainty with him, he’ll give up the information easier and I want him to come out of it disoriented. Eventually word will trickle to L.”

“Won’t he suspect us?”

“Of course he will. But, with this, we don’t have to kidnap him. He wakes up, feels funny—L calls us. And that’s what I want. I want him to call me. He’ll have to if he suspects us but I’ll be able to shrug and say, ‘Sorry, I’m under house arrest.’ He’ll probably be able to guess that something happened to him though—which makes Takimura a liability. That means,” and here he looked at Rester, “that once you get what you can, you need to get out of Japan as soon as possible. It’d be better if you were here when L contacts me. If he believes that Gevanni and Hal are watching me, then it may be all right but it’d more secure if you were here. He may ask me to leave so he can talk to you all. If he does, that’s fine. You’re all kind of suspicious of me anyway, you don’t really trust me, do you? Better for him to think that then to assume you’re all loyal. Less chance of any of you dying that way.”

“But why do you need him to contact you?”

“So that I can call out one of his people.”

“He’ll just suspect you more.”

“But I’m under house arrest, all of you are here and all your reports say I’m here and I’m not allowed to contact anyone outside--and technically I don't know I'm under supervision. He has no proof and if he were dumb enough to go whining to the president about it and I check out completely—it’ll look like he’s just trying to pin me, like he’s got a grudge.”

Cassandra chuckled. “So basically you’re doing this to irritate him. Give him a nudge.”

“Yeah. Basically. And get the names of whoever worked under L. That’s the most important part and to see if we can find out who they set up as the new L.” He smiled a little. “Rester’s flight leaves in three hours. Matthias, I want you in your hotel room for when he arrives. Got all that?”

“Yep.”

Matthias nodded.

Matt disconnected from them and turned to Rester, taking out an envelope. He handed the case over. “Sorry for the short notice. Here are your tickets. Get to the airport. And by the way, if either of those two do anything funny, kill them both—we can’t have any loose ends.”

Rester’s look was serious, but he nodded. Something has changed. It’s very subtle…but something…

“Gevanni, when you’re done informing them of my funeral attendance, type up Rester’s report for him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir.” He looked at Hal. “Go call the bastards and tell them I’m back and everything and that you got me down here instead of going right to them so you could confer with Gevanni and check out my actions.”

She nodded and left.

That left him with Gevanni. They were quiet until he finished typing the reports and then turned to Matt. “So…now what do we do?”

Matt looked up at the screens and rubbed his temples. He looked back and laughed a little. “Now we wait. Go get some rest.”

“What about you? Jetlag and it’s been a long—”

Matt took off his suit jacket. “I’m gonna get some coffee and get my cigarettes.”

Gevanni nodded silently and left.

Matt did indeed go and get coffee. He even got out his cigarettes. He had just set one down on his ashtray and put his chin in his hand, watching the screens. News programs from all over the world, cameras in the building, and thinking about what he’d say if, for some reason in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, someone came looking for Rester. He doubted anyone would but it would be good to have a reason…he’d…think…

His chin slipped down his arm to the desk for a moment.

…and he fell asleep, anyway.

Hal returned about twenty minutes later. She paused, noting Gevanni’s absence and walked over to Matt. She, very carefully, removed his glasses and put his cigarette out.

She sat down in one of the chairs to keep an eye out on the screens, even if she couldn’t seem to take them all in like he could. “Get some rest,” she muttered, even if no one could hear her, “…all we can do now is wait.” Be careful, Rester.