Chapter 41: Endless Meetings
Endless Meetings
In Fuyuki-City, detectives Osaki Koyo and Yomaura Taya were hard at work investigating a possible murder. A dead body had been found near the Ryuudou-temple, something that had shocked the city's inhabitants, and the police had promptly put their best people on the case.
Osaki and Yomaura had accepted the job and were now working to shed light on the situation, to identify the victim and to hopefully find suspects, as well as motives, means, and opportunities.
As the victim's body was already well on its way to becoming nothing but a skeleton however, identifying them had been a challenge, to say nothing of determining how they had been killed.
They had ultimately succeeded in the identification quite quickly though, through dental records they'd happened to have in their system.
Carlton Paris was not a criminal, but several years ago, an overzealous officer who had happened upon the scene of a mugging had arrested everyone in the vicinity who looked suspicious, including Paris, who, as someone born in the Caribbean, had a dark complexion and was thus extra suspect, at least according to that particular officer.
He had been released quickly, and the arresting officer had been punished, but Paris' dental records had still been entered into the system, which now helped in identifying his body. As regrettable as that incident had been, it did have some use now.
According to the background check, Carlton Paris worked as a part-time cleaner at one of the companies located in the harbour. He was by all accounts a hard worker, who kept himself to himself and had never been involved in any incidents, save for the one where he had been unlawfully arrested.
Interviewing the teenagers who had found the body had yielded no new information, though Osaki and Yomaura had been unpleasantly surprised to learn that Matou Sakura was one of them. She was associated with Emiya after all, who was better known at the station as Rakurai, the elusive vigilante.
She had claimed not to be involved with the murder, and the detectives had chosen to believe her, as they couldn't find any reason for Matou or Emiya to want Paris dead.
As such, they needed to look for other avenues, and as part of that, they were going to search and investigate Paris' house.
The address was found easily enough, a warrant to search the place was obtained in less than a day, and now, Osaki found himself behind the wheel of his car, on his way to Carlton's house with his partner sitting next to him in the passenger seat.
"So that's the preliminary conclusion that the pathologists have made?" Yomaura spoke into her phone, biting her lip in thought. "But do they think it is correct? And there were no other injuries? No mysterious substances in his body? There were? Alright, thank you."
She ended the call, and then turned towards Osaki once she'd put away her phone.
"According to the pathologists, Carlton was strangled to death, most likely with a cord or a thin piece of rope." She told him. "They haven't found much more yet, but they are confident that Paris was drugged while he was killed, most likely with Tenzine."
"Tenzine?" Osaki asked, quickly going over the list of drugs he'd had to memorize during police-school. "Isn't that an anti-depressant?"
"It is, though an overdose can easily change it into a very potent sleeping agent." Yomaura replied. "It is likely that he was strangled while unconscious or at the very least dazed from it."
"Is Tenzine difficult to obtain?"
"You certainly can't buy it without a prescription, if that is what you mean. Its use is regulated quite heavily, and according to Paris' doctor, he was not using Tenzine, or any other drug for that matter."
"So it was administered to him by someone else, likely involuntarily."
"I'd say that is the most probable option."
"In other words, the killer is someone who knows how to get their hands on Tenzine. Interesting."
"It should certainly narrow down the pool of suspects." Yomaura agreed, before she pointed to the right of the car. "Senpai, we have arrived. That's Paris' house over there."
"House?! You mean manor!"
Osaki had already been surprised when he had found himself driving into Fuyuki-City's richest neighbourhood on the way to Paris' address, but the sight of what was supposed to be the man's house truly baffled him.
Instead of a halfway decent apartment in a cheap flat, where Osaki had always imagined cleaners to live, Paris apparently owned a rather opulent manor, three times as big as Osaki's own house. It was old and stately, surrounded by a massive garden on all sides, but had clearly been redecorated and refurbished several times in recent years, giving its outside a more modern appearance.
This was the home of a rich man, and Osaki couldn't help but wonder how a part-time cleaner could possibly afford to live in it.
He parked the car in front of the gate, and after they'd gone through said gate, walked across the garden to the house, and let themselves in, Osaki only became more confused and suspicious, as the manor was even more lavishly decorated on the inside than on the outside.
Numerous artworks, about half of them Japanese and the other half Caribbean in origin, littered the walls and floors, including but not limited to paintings, vases, ancient weapons, and statues. A great number of bookshelves were spread around the place, holding hundreds of books on an immense variety of subjects. Expensive furniture was standing around everywhere in sight, most of it still looking pristine, as if it had never been used.
It only confirmed what Osaki had said before. This was the home of a very wealthy man.
"So, Senpai." Yomaura began after a few minutes of looking around. "Do you think we may have missed something in Paris' background check?"
"I'd say that's pretty likely at this point, yeah." If cleaners earned enough to live in a place like this, Osaki had chosen the wrong job. "Clearly, he had access to a lot of money that he certainly didn't earn by cleaning part-time."
"Could he have inherited it? Or won the lottery perhaps?"
"If that were so, it would have shown up in his background check. The fact that we have no idea where the money came from makes it more likely to be illegal earnings than something like inheritance or the lottery."
"Drugs?" Yomaura proposed. "He could have been trading in medicines that are prescription-only, like Tenzine, before being killed by a rival using the very thing he was dealing in."
"It's possible." Osaki allowed, pursing his lips.
"But you don't believe it?"
"Look around you, Yomaura. If Paris was involved with the illegal drug trade, he clearly made a lot of money from it, and generally, drug-dealers don't get this rich without ending up on a watch-list of some kind. If he really was a major player in the underworld, he wouldn't have such a clean background. He would have a warning next to his name in the system at the very least."
"I suppose that is true." His partner acknowledged. "Could he have been a hitman then? Someone who kills other people for money?"
"The profession of hitman has been exaggerated by Hollywood. You can't earn a lot of money doing it, as every single major criminal has dozens of underlings who would only be glad to kill their boss' enemy for a hundred dollars or less. No, this fortune did not come from being a hitman either."
"What about fraud?"
"Now that is far more likely. If done well, fraud is lucrative, easy, and can be hidden very well from prying eyes." Osaki nodded sharply, getting up from where he had been rummaging through a drawer. "Yomaura, see if you can find Paris' bedroom. If there's anything incriminating in this house, it will be hidden in there."
"You got it, Senpai." Yomaura nodded eagerly. "I'll be looking for bank statements, odd emails, lots of money, and strangely-high quality vaults."
"Good luck. I'll be looking around a bit more in the drawing room and the dining room."
"Good luck to you as well then."
Once Yomaura had left, Osaki focused on his own search again, calmly going over every part of the rooms with a fine tooth comb, looking for anything suspicious.
He didn't find anything though. There was absolutely nothing suspicious about Paris' house as far as he could see. Everything was neat and tidy, with not a stain anywhere. The artworks were pristine, the books had clearly never been touched, if the kitchen had seen any use, it would have been only once in a blue moon, and the carpets looked as if no one had ever walked on them.
In short, the house was immaculate.
Which set off all kinds of alarm bells in Osaki's head.
Houses with people living in them weren't supposed to be immaculate. They were supposed to be messy, stained, and disorganised. Even the greatest neat freak couldn't get their house to be this spotless.
Something was going on here. Someone, likely Paris, had gone to great lengths to remove every trace of personality from the ground floor of his manor, and Osaki wondered why.
"Senpai!"
Hearing his partner's call, Osaki left the ground floor behind for the moment to go and see what she wanted, ascending the stairs to the first floor of the manor.
"Senpai!"
Again following the sound of his partner's voice, Osaki eventually arrived in a large bedroom, which held a king-sized bed with crumpled sheets, an opulent desk cluttered with paperwork, shelves full of books that had been read often, and even a small kitchen covered in stains and small spots of damage.
In other words, it looked like someone had actually lived here.
"I think we can say that Paris almost exclusively lived on the first floor." Yomaura repeated what Osaki had realised seconds before, standing next to the desk as she rummaged through the paperwork. "Though I have no idea why."
"He must have had a different purpose for the ground floor." Osaki answered, walking around the room once, before pulling one of the most worn books out of its shelf. "Perhaps it was only to receive guests and not to- Oh?"
"Senpai?" Yomaura looked up from the paperwork when Osaki made an involuntary noise of surprise after he'd opened the book on a random page. "What's wrong?"
"This book." Osaki replied, holding it to the side so his partner could see it as well. "Someone has been writing in it."
"Oh, I see." Yomaura peered at the small notes that had been made in the page's margin. "It's English, but it says… 'Ice-breaker'? 'Interesting fact for pillow talk'? 'Feminists will like this fact'?"
"It seems like Paris was mining this book." Osaki mused, flipping the page a few times, finding that the whole book was full of such notes. "He was mining it for subjects to talk about with women."
"Sounds like he was a dedicated ladies' man." Yomaura grinned, pulling a book of her own out of the shelves. "It's the same for this one. He really was working hard to improve his pick-up game."
"Interesting to know, and it means we can add heartbroken ladies and jealous husbands to our list of suspects, but it still doesn't explain how Paris had enough money to afford a place like this."
"Perhaps he was charging the women money in exchange for spending time with him." Yomaura joked, before her smile fell. "Hold on…"
For a few seconds, both detectives were silent, Yomaura's words playing in their minds, before Osaki spoke up again.
"You mean he was a gigolo?"
"Ah, well, I mean, it's not impossible, is it?" His redheaded partner spluttered, a blush coming to her cheeks at the mention of that word. "If picking up women was his job, then it makes sense he was working so hard on his seduction skills, and that he didn't want other people, or the government, to know about it."
"It's certainly not impossible." Osaki agreed, the dots connecting rapidly in his mind. "In fact, it almost seems likely at this point."
No wonder that the ground floor was so devoid of personality. If Paris was taking different women home every other day, then he needed it to be as inoffensive as possible, to not contain anything that would make a client feel uncomfortable.
"Does a gigolo really earn enough to live in a manor though?" Yomaura asked sceptically. "I have arrested pimps before, and from what I know, prostitutes certainly don't earn much."
"I don't know. I never really looked into the profession of gigolo, so their earnings are a bit of a mystery to me. I suppose it depends on their clients."
"Speaking of clients, we'll have to track down Paris', don't we?" Yomaura asked, pulling a face. "That's going to be unpleasant, I can already tell."
"His clients may very well be involved in his death, so yes, we'll have to track them down and question them." Osaki replied, before he sighed. "And that is indeed going to be unpleasant."
There was no way that Paris' clients were going to come forward by themselves. Using a gigolo's services wasn't exactly looked upon favourably in Japanese society after all. Even the merest whisper of a rumour that you had visited one could be enough to destroy a woman's reputation, and to have it become known that the police questioned you about such a visit would forever make you an outcast. People would simply refuse to associate with you, out of fear of being contaminated by your 'evil vibes'.
It was weird and extremely unfair, but that was how it was, and good police-officers and detectives always took great care to be as discreet as they could be. One wrong move could wreck someone's life after all, even if they were innocent.
Though that was assuming they'd ever find the clients in the first place, which was by no means a sure thing.
"Perhaps we could look for a diary or agenda that has the names of his clients written in it?" Yomaura suggested.
"It's worth a shot, though I doubt we'll be so lucky."
After a few minutes of searching however, Osaki was forced to eat his words, as they did indeed find an agenda which kept meticulous record of every appointment Paris had made with his clients over the past year.
It also contained a few less-than-pleasant surprises for the two detectives however.
"Senpai, isn't that woman here, on Thursday afternoon, a very prominent judge?"
"She certainly is. I have spoken with her several times in court."
"And isn't this woman a member of the city-council?"
"Correct."
"And this one is a rich heiress, if I'm not mistaken."
"You're not mistaken."
"Good gracious…"
It went on like that for a while. Carlton Paris had 'entertained' a lot of women in his career, and several of them were rather big names in Fuyuki-City. Big enough that the reveal that they had visited a gigolo would have far-reaching consequences, for those women, for the city at large, and for Osaki's and Yomaura's careers.
In other words, they would have to be very cautious about their next steps.
After going over the agenda, the detectives further searched the room, but they couldn't find anything else of note. As far as Osaki could see, no one had been inside the room for over a month.
"I think that's everything, Senpai." Yomaura eventually said as she closed the last closet she'd looked through. "This is normally the part where I would suggest we call the forensic department, but considering the information in here and what it may do to our investigation and to prominent members of society…"
She did not have to explain further. Osaki wished he could say otherwise, but even after the law enforcement agency had been cleaned thoroughly in the wake of Rakurai's last outing, there were still many people working in all its departments that he didn't trust as far as he could throw them. It wasn't at all unthinkable one of them would sell the information about Paris being a gigolo to the media, and that would greatly complicate the investigation.
As said before, Japan was incredibly reputation-focused, so if it came out the police was investigating a gigolo's murder, no one would want to speak to them again, out of fear of being suspected of hiring Paris' services, if not murdering him to cover it up.
Even worse though was the possibility that an unscrupulous officer may stumble upon the contact details of one of Paris' more known clients, and would then use that information for immoral purposes.
Blackmail came to mind, or selling the information on again.
"Take the agenda." Osaki eventually said, and Yomaura obeyed, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket. "We have to remove any and all information that indicates Paris is a gigolo before we call forensics."
"We cannot take all the books though, nor can we erase Paris' notes in them." His partner protested, and Osaki clacked his tongue in annoyance, not having thought of that.
"…Leave them. We'll play it off as him being a lady's man. Also, he could afford to live in this house because his family in the Caribbean is rich."
"Very well, Senpai."
Paris didn't have any family, but since he was born in the Caribbean and Yomaura was the only one who'd done a background check on him, no one else knew that.
With the agenda removed and the mystery of Paris' money no longer an issue, no one should be able to figure out that the man had been a gigolo.
"Will we inform the superiors of the truth?" Yomaura asked once they'd finished their search for incriminating details and were back in Osaki's car. "Personally, I'd rather not, not yet at least."
"Oh, why?"
"Because they might order us to put a stop to the investigation." Yomaura didn't hesitate for a second to say this. "Paris was a foreigner, which makes most of our bosses reluctant to spend money and manpower on him to begin with, but if they find out that he was also a gigolo, they will shut the case at once."
"You are right, of course." Osaki sighed, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel, the cold rubber soothing against his aching head. "Fine, we won't tell them about that little fact yet. Not until we have caught the perpetrator and the final report needs to be submitted, and there's nothing the superiors can do anymore."
It was entirely against regulation, but they had gone against regulation so often over the past year that Osaki didn't even care anymore. After the absolute mess that Rakurai's case had become, it was difficult for him to stick to protocol as much as he'd once had. Justice came first now, and regulations second.
Of course, he would still obey the law, that went without saying, but it wasn't said anywhere that they had to report any information they found to their superiors at once. It was commonplace and generally considered the right protocol, but it wasn't required. You could also do it later, like, at the very end.
Loopholes like those really ought to have been closed years ago, but they hadn't, and Yomaura and Osaki now gratefully made use of them.
"Shirou!" Illya cried happily once the redhead appeared in the Vault, running at him for a big hug. "You're back!"
"I am indeed." He laughed, catching her in his arms and twirling her around, as big brothers were supposed to do with their little sisters. "Good to see you again, Illya. You as well, Sella, and Leysritt of course. Are you all alright?"
"I'm perfectly alright now that you're back!" Illya beamed at him.
"Everything went fine in your absence, Lord Emiya." Sella calmly gave her report, bowing slightly from the waist. "No one has been hurt, nothing has been destroyed, and we haven't lacked anything we may have needed."
"I'm fine." Leysritt said shortly, apparently not in the mood to talk.
"I am glad to hear it." Shirou smiled, before turning back to Illya, setting her down on the ground again. "I finally got done with that purge I told you about. Sorry it took so long, but it really was a lot of work."
"Done?" Illya cocked her head to the side, frowning in confusion. "You mean you're on a break?"
"No, I mean I am done."
"As in, your part is done, and others have now taken over?"
"The purge is over, Illya."
"But weren't you going to take on an entire department?"
"Three, actually. Archaeology, Mineralogy, and Botany."
"But you only started this morning."
"Yes, I did."
"Then how can you already be done?!" Illya's expression became more incredulous with every answer Shirou gave her, and now, her confusion was total. "It should have taken you weeks at least!"
"Under normal circumstances perhaps, but I was cheating." Shirou grinned confidently, before quickly summarising the events of the purge and how he and Lady Barthomeloi had completed it in a single day by being awesome and overpowered.
Or at least, that was how Illya put it once he'd finished.
"I have the coolest big brother ever!" She cheered, jumping at him for another big hug, which he happily reciprocated. "All other little sisters can go take a hike; I've won this competition!"
"Competition?" Had she participated in something without him knowing it? "I don't know of any competition."
"There's a competition between all the little sisters of the world about who has the coolest and awesomest big brother of them all." Illya explained, sounding completely confident, as if she had the first idea of what being a little sister entailed. "That's you, by the way. That's why I have won."
"I am not sure that's how things work…" Shirou began slowly with an attempt to refute Illya's words, but she looked so happy and content with herself that he lost the willpower to continue. Instead, he just nodded in agreement.
Sella had no such problems though.
"What utter nonsense." She scolded Illya without a second of hesitation, marching right up to Shirou and plucking the little Homunculus out of his arms. "Please don't bother Lord Emiya with such drivel, lady Illyasviel. You are very well aware you know nothing about being a little sister. I would appreciate it if you didn't fabricate competitions merely to pretend you do."
"Sella! Don't be mean!" Illya whined as Sella pulled her away from Shirou, helplessly flailing in her big sister's arms. "Please let me enjoy having a big brother, please!"
When she put it that way, even Sella paused for a moment, but she quickly recomposed herself and placed her mistress on the ground, a fair distance away from Shirou.
"Instead of bothering Lord Emiya with needless banter about non-existent competitions, perhaps you should show him the fruits of your labour." She suggested, and Illya immediately stopped pouting. "I am sure he will be pleased by your efforts."
"Oh? You have something to show me, Illya?" Shirou asked kindly, sure that whatever it was, if Sella approved or at least condoned it, it couldn't be that bad.
"I do!" Illya jumped forward to grab his hand, pulling him along with her as she gave him a thousand-watt smile. "So I was going over the treasures in your Vault this morning, and then I found something that looked really expensive, and I thought to myself, 'maybe it would be fun if I gathered all the expensive stuff I could find, so I can feel really rich', and then I did that, gather all the expensive stuff I mean."
Suddenly, she paused, both in walking and in speaking, and turned towards him, pressing the tips of her index fingers together. "Is that alright?"
"Of course." Shirou said, patting her on the head, feeling happy that she'd been enjoying herself so much. "I told you that you could do anything you wanted as long as you kept to the rules, and from what you told me, you didn't break any of them."
"Yay!" Illya cheered again, before she resumed pulling him along. "Over there, on the table!"
Shirou quickly spotted the table she was talking about, and then also saw the pile of treasures that had been placed on top of it.
Illya had already said that she had gathered the most valuable objects she could find, and she had done good work, as the things she had found were indeed extremely valuable, every single one of them.
"And?" His little sister asked eagerly once they stood next to the table. "Was I right? Are they valuable?"
"They are indeed extremely valuable." Shirou grinned, before picking up one of the goblets. "This goblet for instance, while already worth a lot because it's made of gold and gems, is worth even more because any water that you drink from it has healing properties."
"Wow! Really?" Illya asked, bringing her face very close to the goblet.
"Yes, I believe it was someone's attempt at copying the Holy Grail." Shirou told her, using his Sight and Tracing to obtain that information, before immediately explaining further when Illya's expression darkened. "I don't mean the monstrosity from Fuyuki. I mean the cup that Jesus Christ drank from during the Last Supper, which is said to hold the power to heal all maladies, even age and death."
"Can this cup do that?" Illya's expression brightened up again, thankfully, and Shirou almost felt bad about having to disappoint her.
"No, it wasn't a very successful attempt. This cup can heal almost all wounds, most diseases, and all curses that are below Divine in level, but it is far from perfect."
"Darn." Illya pouted again, though she quickly shook it off. "It's still valuable though, right?"
"Oh yes, I could sell this for millions of pounds, I imagine." Shirou said, though that was mostly a guess. He had no idea what Magical objects were worth, as he'd never sold or bought one before. "Though I might be wrong."
"And the others?"
"The same. These are all worth quite a lot, if you ask me." Shirou said, picking up and studying a silver spear that would always remain sharp no matter what happened to it, a mirror that showed people as they truly were, completely disregarding illusions or disguises, rings that would make the wearer invisible, necklaces with Protection Charms, and much more. "Why? Do you want me to sell them?"
"Oh no! There's no need for that." Illya shook her head, smiling brightly at him. "I just wanted to feel rich, and if you say that these things are indeed valuable, then that is enough for me."
She looked positively adorable at that moment, with the bright smile and clear eyes, and Shirou couldn't suppress a fond smile, only just resisting the urge to reach out and pat her head.
"Maybe we could place them on display and show them off to other Magi. They'll be sure to get super jealous." Illya then muttered, the earnest smile replaced by a cruel, mocking one, and the image of adorability immediately broke. "To see their faces distort grotesquely in envy would be most wonderful indeed."
"Ah." Shirou sweatdropped as he looked at his not-so-adorable-anymore sister, and he spotted Sella shaking her head in dismay in the background. "If that would make you happy, I'm sure I can figure something out to make that happen."
"Thank you!" The happy-go-lucky version Illya reappeared immediately, yet it could not fully recapture the adorability that she'd possessed before. The illusion had been forever shattered.
"But before I forget, now that the purge is over, we can soon return home." Shirou said after a few moments of silence, forcibly changing the subject. "It shouldn't take longer than a week, maybe two, and then you can leave the Vault."
"I will wait as long as is necessary." Illya declared solemnly.
"And with some luck, that's only a week or two more." Shirou grinned, before looking at Sella. "You might find my house a little small though, especially for six people. I will have to see if I can enlarge it somehow."
"Would it not endanger the secrecy of the Moonlit World if you were to increase the size of your residence with Magecraft?" Sella asked sceptically. "Or do you plan to use common building-methods?"
"I am going to use Magecraft to increase the size of my house, but only on the inside." Shirou replied. "Just like with my suitcase. That way, we'll have enough space, but no one will notice anything amiss from the outside."
"Of course. My deepest apologies for doubting you, Lord Emiya." Sella bowed again, much deeper than before, and Shirou realised too late he had probably increased her awe of him even more. "Sorcerers truly are impressive."
Shirou pursed his lips at being called a Sorcerer yet again. He'd harboured some hope that Sella would let that go at some point, and that he could convince her that he wasn't a Sorcerer, but it seemed that point was still far away.
Which was very ironic, considering he truly was not a Sorcerer. But then again, him being a Sorcerer was probably more believable than him being a god from another dimension. Sometimes, truth was stranger than fiction.
"So cool!" At least Illya was happy, as her eyes had started glowing the moment he mentioned making something bigger on the inside than on the outside. "We could have a palace inside a normal house!"
"I will do my very best." Shirou promised her. He didn't really see the need for a palace himself, but if Illya wanted one, he'd give it his all to build one. He would have to discuss it with Sakura and Ayako first of course, but he didn't think they'd have a problem with it. "But to get back to what we were discussing before, will you be alright in here for the next two weeks or so?"
"Sure." Illya grinned, looking back at Sella and Leysritt for verification, before turning towards Shirou again when the maids both nodded. "We found a lot of books, boardgames, and other stuff, so we will be fine."
"Are you really sure?"
"Yes, big brother." Illya sighed in exasperation, before she beamed at him once more. "Oh my, is this what having an overprotective big brother feels like?! It's wonderful!"
"I… am glad you think that way."
"What about you though, Shirou? What will you be doing while we are in here?"
"Nothing much honestly. I just have to wrap up a few matters related to the purge and say goodbye to everyone in the Clocktower, and then I can leave." Shirou replied, though he was aware wrapping up those matters might not be so easy as he was making it out to be. "I'll have to think of some farewell-gifts as well."
"Farewell-gifts?"