Naomi, Raye... and a special guest.

[americanagent]

[It's been years since Naomi last saw this particular penitentiary. Or any penitentiary for that matter. Prisons had become a thing of her past when she had retired from the FBI. Still, there is something familiar in the air that never quite leaves her system - the old way of seeing things, and the old way of thinking. She feels more at home now, walking toward the barbed wire fencing, than she has in years of shopping along the LA streets, carrying bags of groceries, and winter clothes, or summer clothes.]

[She's still thinking as she walks - one step, and she's thinking of London, two and she's thinking of the areas surrounding it - especially Essex. Three, and she's thinking of poisons, delivery systems...]

[And she's counting her steps as she walks, waiting for Raye to ask her again if she's sure she wants to do this, and remind her that she's no longer an agent, and that England is outside their reach anyway. But there's a thought in her head, lodged hard, and she can't shake it lose. So she holds her packet of photographs under her arm and she walks on.]

Comments

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[Beyond stays perfectly still for a moment, apparently not reacting - mentally he runs through the list of acquaintances, associates, anyone he can think of who might have cause to come and see him.]

[He comes up empty. A surprise, then. How exciting.]

Oh, don't worry. I'm sure there will be a perfectly good explanation, if you want to wait to find out what it is.

[His eyes flicker away from Paul's face just for a second, but quickly settle back on him, unblinking as always.]

But Paul, there is something you might want to know before they get here. I don't think you'll want to hear it with anyone else around.

[catchthemgone.livejournal.com]

[Paul makes a frustrated noise, and kicks at the floor.]

What. What?

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

It's just that you're going to die soon.

[lifts his head a little but keeps it pressed against the door, which causes his hair to fall into his eyes]

In the interest of dramatic suspense I won't tell you when exactly, but I would put it at a matter of months, at least.

You might want to tell your family.

[catchthemgone.livejournal.com]

[turns to face the cell again, eyes wide]

That's... what the hell are you talking about? You don't know when I'm going to--

[stops and turns when the door at the end of the hall opens]

[mutters under his breath]

Fuck you. Freak.

[...and heads over to the door to great the guest. Whoever the hell that is.]

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[turns his head as he follows Paul and then Paul's footsteps once he's out of sight. He doesn't raise his voice any louder when he finally responds.]

I did not have to tell you.

[And he listens quietly for the sound of the door opening.]

[catchthemgone.livejournal.com]

[Paul exchanges a few muttered words with a female voice. After a while, he says something that sounds like, "Alone?" and something that sounds like "Christ."]

[And then his voice goes silent, replaced by footsteps drawing closer to the cell.]

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[The instant he hears the visitor's voice, those light feminine footsteps accompanying Paul's, the gears in his head begin to spin. It had to be a woman, but who? A reporter maybe? Her words were unclear, but he was certain he'd heard that voice before, only where...?]

[Beyond lowers his head once more, deliberately obscuring his vision. It had been years since he'd spoken to anyone who wasn't a guard or an inmate, so going back from there, it had to be someone he recognized, if only faintly. Could he still remember?]

[He rubs his knuckles against the side of his face, over the scarring there, and stops. Before he was brought in... no, even before that--]

[...was it actually... But why?]

[A puzzle. Good. At least today wouldn't be boring.]

[americanagent]

[Naomi feels a chill in the air as she walks down the corridor between one steel reinforced door and the cell that is her destination. She rubs her arms, looking for warmth, or maybe just to calm her nerves.]

[And she is nervous, in a way - it's strange. She had worked beside this man for days, never feeling threatened. But of course, that was before she knew what he was capable of, and who he was. Now... well, now is different.]

[And also the same. She had never liked him, even when she thought he was just a strange young man with extremely unhealthy eating habits. She had always felt there was something wrong with him - a strange sense that stuck to her skin and lodged in her mind when she spoke to him, even then.]

[But she had had a job to do - a case to investigate. And that is the same as now.]

[She raises her head, determination surging through her as she draws nearer. Still, when she sees him, for a moment, she can't speak.]

[He's even paler than she remembered. Or... half of him is. The other half is a twisted mess of melted skin and scar tissue - a gruesome reminder of his failed plan. It must trouble him, she thinks, and take some satisfaction in it, too.]

[After a moment, she steps closer to the bars.]

You don't look very good.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[...so it was her. Beyond lifts his head up to meet her gaze directly, and it occurs to him that there should probably be a surge of emotion here - hatred, resentment, maybe a smattering of well-timed maniacal laughter - but instead, all he can think is how ridiculous it was that she was the cause of his unfortunate situation.]

[She didn't look much different, either. Still wary, yet determined... he notices some kind of package under her arm, which probably meant she was here for business of some sort.]

[He drops one hand away from the bars and chews at his torn fingernail, not letting his gaze falter.]

Still uncommonly perceptive.

Naomi Misora. It's good of you to come and see me. I don't get many visitors.

[americanagent]

I can't imagine you do. You weren't very good company even before I knew you were a serial killer.

[Naomi watches him closely, though all he's really doing is watching her back. Aside from the chewing. His stare is so steady it's almost unnerving.]

[Maybe it actually is unnerving.]

And it's Penbar now.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[nods very slightly]

Naomi Penbar. At least one of us has been keeping busy.

I saw your ring, but I did not want to be presumptuous.

[He lifts one bare foot and scratches the back of his other heel with his toes, still looking at her steadily, without blinking, and wonders what's in the package. She couldn't possibly have come all the way here just to insult him. That would be a very odd thing to do.]

[So.]

I believe the proper question is: to what do I owe the pleasure?

[americanagent]

I...

[holds up the envelope]

I need your help.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

...Help?

[For the first time, Beyond's eyes drop away from Naomi herself to the envelope in her hand. His help. Was that some kind of a joke? Or did she really need him... well, no reason not to play along and find out.]

[He looks back up to her face, eyes wide.]

I see. Another case, is it? I didn't think you would want to work with me again, Naomi. I'm flattered.

[americanagent]

[lowers her head slightly, and then raises it again, meeting his gaze]

Yes, a case. But no one else sees what I see. You are the only one...

[she pauses, and shakes her head. No. If her instincts had been right... if she had guessed properly what motivated him... if she was correct about who that young man had been, the one she met when the case had ended...]

[If all of these things are true, then appealing to his vanity was not the way to secure his cooperation.]

No. There is one other person who could help me. But there is no way to contact him.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[He doesn't miss the small pause in her appeal, that quick reversal of direction. And she didn't seem to be lying, either, which must mean that...]

[He knew who she meant. There could only be one person even remotely comparable. How she knew to lead him there didn't seem to matter at this point. She knew, and she was right - there was no way of contacting him, short of drawing him out of hiding, which of course she couldn't do - and so she'd come here, to him.]

[Beyond's hands grip the bars suddenly with enough force to rattle the door, and for the first time in a very long while, he laughs unexpectedly.]

[It sounds dry, like cracking bones and sand.]

You're a very clever girl, Naomi. You did the right thing. All right, I can help you, if that's what you want.

And here - I will not even charge you for it.

[americanagent]

[Naomi nods, watching him for a moment before she opens her envelope,]

[She isn't under the illusion that she managed to fool him. No, he would have noticed her change of direction - but it probably didn't matter. If he was trying to be L, or beat L, or whatever it was that he was trying to do, even now... it wouldn't make a difference whether he sensed her manipulation. He wouldn't be able to resist. And anyway, it was true regardless of her reason for saying it aloud.]

It began in London.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[tips his head and brings his hand back up to his lips, chewing on a different nail this time]

That's strange. London is not within your jurisdiction.

[...but it was within his. In the back of his mind Beyond runs over what she'd just told him, implying that this case, whatever it was, was puzzling enough to not be obvious to most people - no one else sees what I see.]

[That was actually kind of funny, when he thought about it. He could definitely relate.]

[The point being that if this was a case only she could see, one that she could only expect help on from Beyond himself, it would very likely be one that would raise flags for L as well. No doubt he'd already gotten wind of it by now, if she had - London was very close to "home".]

[Why that would interest her, he couldn't say, but her motivation didn't interest him anyway.]

[americanagent]

[pauses for a moment]

I have no jurisdiction. I've retired. But since no one else sees it, I have no choice.

[she pulls a photo from the envelope.]

In the past nine days, there have been 48 deaths in the London area and surroundings. All of the dead have been criminals of various levels of notoriety. It began with... seemingly random criminals, everything from purse-snatchers to multiple murderers. But in the past few days, the rate has increased, and the type of criminal has become somewhat refined. They've become increasingly dangerous. Increasingly notorious. Gang leaders, serial killers, multiple rapists.

[She takes out a photograph and holds it up]

This was the first to die. He was a local petty gang-leader.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[he looks at the photograph carefully, but he doesn't recognize the face in it, nor can he determine anything from it. The man is definitely dead; his lifespan is spent.]

[Which itself proved nothing.]

[But... killing criminals? He could think of a number of reasons why someone would want to do that. An inside job, an outside one. It didn't really make a difference to him. But there was something more interesting there... 48 deaths was a staggeringly large number for such a short period of time.]

[Assuming it was murder at all. That was her only reason for being here - she needed validation for her theories, and who better to get it from than another killer, one she knew personally?]

I see. An interesting place to start. If there is someone behind this, they're obviously very determined.

[His eyes flick up to Naomi once again, scanning over her face.]

But isn't there something very important that you've neglected to tell me?

[americanagent]

[Naomi presses her lips together. This is the part she dislikes. In part because it usually ends with people saying that she is thinking too much, or reading too much into it. Even Raye thought she was imagining things. But she couldn't be. 48 was too many, criminals too specific, and the location too precise.]

Some of them have been killed in public, with witnesses. No one touched them. There is never evidence of a struggle. And...

[If anyone could see the patterns she sees, it would be him. Or L. But L is not an option, now.]

...the cause of death for each of the 48 has been identical. Natural causes.

[She turns her head up.]

Heart attacks. One died on live television during his trial.

[She shows another photograph.]

Peter Godfrey.

[Naomi watches him for a long moment, her gaze steady.]

Beyond. Rue. Everyone I come to with this information tells me it must be a coincidence, but it can't be! There have been too many, and the targeting too precise. And it's escalating. It began with two in a day, but most recently there have been as many as nine. At this rate, we'll reach a point where a dozen or more are dead every day, and still they say it is a coincidence!

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[Beyond stays silently watching her face, now looking quite determined, and keeps his fingers to his lips although he's long since ceased biting on his nails.]

[Forty-eight dead criminals in nine days, courtesy of forty-eight identical heart attacks, and all centered around the London area. Objectively speaking, it couldn't possibly be a coincidence. It was almost an instinctive feeling that told him so; Naomi had to be right about that.]

[What's more, if that was true, if it really was murder, it would definitely be a case that L would want to keep track of. He was likely looking into it as they spoke. Nine days was more than enough time for it to come to his attention, even if he wouldn't move on it yet.]

[And yet... was it actually possible to kill someone that way? He tried to remember. There were a number of ways to induce cardiac arrest, but they would require immediate contact, or traces of evidence at the very least. Presumably nothing obvious was left behind, which meant that whatever it was wasn't obvious... or not there at all.]

[He hadn't experimented with that method of death before. It seemed so low-key, it never even crossed his mind. But even so, he wasn't sure if he could have done it like this. It didn't quite sit right.]

[Beyond lowers his head slightly, not noticing, or caring, that his hair fell into his eyes and slightly obscured his vision of the newest photograph (definitely dead) or Naomi (alive, but desperate). Even so, he keeps his eyes locked on to her.]

Naomi Penbar. I do see what you mean. The odds of it being coincidence are not very high at all.

[americanagent]

[Naomi is a little irritated at how much of a relief that is. Really, she shouldn't be going on the word of this crazy person. But for some reason (not for some reason. for every reason.) she trusts that he'll be honest, and as helpful as he can, on this case. Because L would. Because whatever there is between the two of them - and she doesn't know, or care to know - he can't turn his back on something like this.]

[She takes a deep breath and nods.]

I've... gathered photographs of every one of the victims, as well as their crimes.

[She slides the photos back into the envelope and holds them out to him]

I've also included ten people I think may be at high risk. Crime lords, killers... people who are notorious at roughly the level that these deaths are working at now, and a level or two above.

If you can find a pattern...

[She shakes her head.]

I've gotten this far. But there doesn't seem to be any connections to be made.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[He narrows his eyes at the envelope for a few seconds before accepting it carefully, almost gingerly - and nearly dropping it at first, but he quickly compensates by pinching the edge as tightly as he can, which causes the envelope to shake slightly.]

[For a split second he gives Naomi a reproachful look, but quickly turns his attention back to the matter at hand as he opens the envelope and slips out a few of the photographs. The top one was a dead man, but the ones behind it appear to still be alive when he looks through them.]

[It was an odd thing, but he didn't need to look at a living person to know how much life they had left in them. A photo or film worked just as well. Looking at these potential victims, none of them seemed to be dying within the next year or so. Her predictions weren't correct, or at least not immediately so.]

[Using only two fingers, Beyond holds one of the photos up in front of him with his other hand, completely obscuring Naomi's face. It almost looked like she suddenly had the head of a grizzled Irishman.]

True patterns are often very difficult to find.

Naomi. What made you choose these men as potential victims? Just their notoriety?

[americanagent]

[For a moment, she falters, trying to read his face. It's difficult, considering that half his face is a mess of scar tissue. He looks... unimpressed, which means there may be something wrong with her logic. Or it could mean he's just being obnoxious. He's always been an annoying person.]

[Naomi takes a deep breath.]

Their notoriety. Their crimes. Multiple homicides. The third one raped and murdered five teenage girls. The fifth is involved in drug dealing, but is believed to be responsible for multiple deaths in the past few months as a result of territory disputes. All in London or the surrounding areas. And...

[pauses for a moment. This was the most difficult part of her theory - the part she was least sure of. But...]

They've been covered in the media recently! I haven't confirmed that all of them have been covered, but several of them I had noticed, because the cases were so disturbing. And then within a day or two, they were gone.

[She steels her gaze, and looks at him.]

These are the worst of the recent offenders covered by the British media.

[backupcorrupted.livejournal.com]

[It was a little amusing the way she still asserted herself in the face of uncertainty. It would be impossible to explain to her his reasons for doubting her theory, even if it is sound... perfect, even, if not for the tiny fact that these men were not meant to die in the coming weeks. Even if their deaths were attempted, it couldn't possibly succeed.]

[Fate was an annoying thing when dealing with criminal investigations.]

I see. If there is a killer getting his information from the media they are either very stupid or very clever.

[He replaces the photo he's holding with another one, bringing it back up to the same position in front of Naomi - she was a young Spaniard now, which was only slightly more flattering. After a moment, he lowers the photograph slightly and looks at Naomi directly.]

If you truly believe this is a murder case, Naomi Penbar, I would like you to ask a question... no, two questions.

How are these murders being committed, and why is this method being used?