Watari Pt 1: L\'s Heirs

Most people had snatched a couple of hours sleep, or even just a lie down, around the dawn. It was now nearly 11am and Mello\'s head was pounding, as he listened to his dedication being played on City Sounds FM. He had worked through. He was now listening to what was, effectively, the signing of his death warrant. He sipped from his glass of water and tried not to think of Matt slowly dehydrating. He barked out, "Have you double-checked that Wammy\'s House is being watched from every angle?"



"It\'s covered, Mello." Salvo hadn\'t moved from his seat all night, except to check on Chrissie after she had gone to lie down. "A fly couldn\'t shit on the roof without someone catching it."



"Right." Mello span round in his seat, watching every monitor in quick succession. Everyone was back now, though Near and Chrissie were missing. The fifth Wammy\'s House generation had all been placed in hotels across London. Small groups in each one, supervised by their teachers. The couple were interviewing each of them in turn to see if they knew anything to help the investigation. It was bittersweet, Mello mused, that the fact that he was sitting here, supervising in this place, meant that he was currently L. He had expected it to feel better. There had been no major break-throughs for hours. He sighed. "Thank you all for the work that you\'re doing. I just wanted you to know I appreciate it."



People cast startled looks in his direction. One or two seemed to visibly glow. Linda glowered, "We\'re saving our own arses too."



"I appreciate that as well." Mello smiled and returned to his station.



Two hours later, all they had progressed was a better geological mapping of the chalky bedrocks of England. There was an edge of desperation and frustration around the room, so that the sudden transformation of all of the screens struck like a thunderbolt. Watari was calling. Century dashed to summon Near and Chrissie, while Mello answered the call. "It was on a disc pushed under the door of my hotel room." Roger told them, clearly in shock. "Another image and an audio file."



"Fifth generation or staff." Deontic murmered. "It has to be."



Lamond rose from her seat to wrap her arms around Mello\'s shoulders from behind. He shrugged her off him. "I\'m just concerned that this picture..."



"Well don\'t be." Mello snapped. But the image was arranging itself into focus and the sight felt like a punch in the solar plexus. It was Matt again, clearly still alive, standing against the wall with his forearms crossed over his chest and his hands encircling his neck. It was difficult to read his expression behind the red hair and the goggles, but the wall behind him spoke eloquently enough. He had carved a garden into the chalk. "Spomeni se, milostiva djevice Marijo, kako se nije nikad


ulo da si ikoga zapustila koji se k tebi u zaa
titu utekao..." He began, before realising that it was the Memorae that he was speaking and tears came instead. He stood and walked out into the corridor, away from their eyes, thinking about a three year old child, trapped in an oil tanker, in Spain. He dashed at his eyes, trying to regain composure, able to hear through the open door the audio file being played.



It was Matt\'s voice again, terrified and pleading. "Don\'t show Mello! I didn\'t think you\'d be back!" There was the scratching clunk of a clumsy edit. Matt again, sounding defeated. "It\'s a garden. It\'s what I do. Please don\'t show Mello, he\'ll think I\'m cracking up again. Please?" Another editing sound. Then defiance. "Well, fuck you then, show him. I\'m past caring. Just give me time to write \'Mello, don\'t you come here, volim te.\'" Another edit. Matt crying, "Honestly, don\'t show him. It\'ll break his heart." The next edit appeared to start mid-sentence. "... my childhood. Please, please, I\'m begging you not to show him." The next edit appeared cleaner and Matt\'s voice was stronger. Almost mockingly so. "Song got played on the radio, you arsehole. He has to go unarmed and alone, Mello that is, to a heath in Wareham Forest at dusk. Earl\'s Tree, surrounded by railings, he\'ll find handcuffs on them. Only when he\'s got himself all tied up and no-one else is around, will I be released. Let no-one else be there."



"Sheol."



"Yes, sheol. It was deliberate."



"Is Mello alright?"



Mello swallowed hard and stepped back over the threshold, nearly colliding with Hal. "I\'m ok. I\'m going, Near." He stared at the pyjama-clad teenager. "Simple as that."



Near was ignoring him, standing in the centre of the room, staring at the picture. "Garden?"



They all frowned at him, exchanging glances. Deontic pointed. "A tree, grass, some flowers. Matt saying \'it\'s a garden, it\'s what I do.\'" She turned to ask the question that they all wanted to know. "What\'s the garden all about, Mello?"



Near turned away, looking puzzled and uncharacteristically uncertain. He started to walk back down the corridor to the interview room. Mello called after him, "Near, what did you think you saw?"



He paused. "Urnfield numerals. I see now it\'s grass."



Mello stared back at the marks on the chalk wall. "My mind\'s gone. What would it read in Urnfield, Near?"



The boy returned. "If the flowers are stops, which they have to be, because Urnfield in that form only goes up to 29, then left to right: 24, 7, 18, 20, 4, 28..." He reeled off the rest of the numerals effortlessly. "But I find it hard to believe that Matt knows Urnfield. It\'s probably grass."



Salvo pointed to the left-hand side of the image. "Is that supposed to be a pomegranate? On the tree, I mean? Because if so, we\'re back to Hades. Persephone had to stay in Hades for six months of the year, because she ate five pomegranate seeds." He turned to inspect both Near and Mello\'s expressions before turning to Linda. "Draw this in better detail. Let\'s see what he\'s trying to tell us this time."



Near brightened. "It\'s Urnfield." His gaze slid to the floor, but he smiled. "Matt is manipulative." He returned to the interview room and Chrissie followed. No-one stopped him this time. All eyes turned to their monitors, or pads, or sketchbooks, and they worked on the numbers and on the legend of Persephone. Mello stared at the images. It occurred to him that they were the only photographs in existence of Matt. Two grotesque scenes with his redhead in so much danger that it hurt to look at them. The addition of Persephone made Sheol mean Hades, that Pagan thing, not the \'De Profundis\' of his own Catholicism. Matt was sending codes that Near would read, not Mello. He wrote in advanced mathematics and devil-worship; and his tears and terror still rang in Mello\'s ears.



Mello bowed his head and sucked his chocolate, trying to gather the energy not to dissolve. Even when this was over, he\'d messed. He, Mihael Keehl, had compromised their safety by practically announcing the location of their home address, in that little meeting that morning. Everyone watching, everyone laughing. They seemed intimidated enough now, but what if that hadn\'t been enough? What if they came? He and Matt would have to move. Mello thought of their home. Decorated just as he wanted it. The beautiful windows; the little chapel; the peace throughout. He didn\'t want to go. It felt like the first real home he had ever had. Linda\'s voice mocked in memory \'You really are quite tired, aren\'t you, Mello?\'; all of them watching him make a mistake. A huge mistake. The worst of them. Mello could feel a rushing in his head. It was like a train screaming along a track. He rubbed his eyes and looked up, focusing on all of those monitors. Pictures of Matt in danger; rows of numbers; transcriptions of the things he\'d said; the Goddess Persephone eating pomegranates; the writing on the wall. He was going to start screaming.



"Mello, what\'s this?" Salvo called and his voice seemed to come from a great distance. "I don\'t recognise the language. Matt said, \'Mello, don\'t you come here, volim te.\' Volim te, anyone?"



Mello breathed. The chattering in his head quietened. "I missed that the first time. Thank you, Salvo." He turned and pulled up the transcript to read for himself. "It\'s a personal message. It has no bearing on the case." His eyes drank in the words. They were \'I love you\' in Croatian. "I need the loo. I\'ll be right back." He marched out before his shattered nerves could betray him.



Hal and Chrissie were both waiting as Mello stepped out from the toilet. He took one look at them and horror overtook his eyes. His mouth opened in a silent scream and he stumbled back, before lurging forward to grab Hal by both shoulders. "No!"



The blond woman struggled for composure and words, shocked by the sight of Mello, usually so fiery and strong, crumbling like this. It was Chrissie who realised what he was thinking. "Mello! No, it\'s nothing like that!" She reached to fasten an arm around his back. "We don\'t know any more about Matt than we did five minutes ago. You thought we\'d come to tell you..."



Mello let go of Hal and turned to face the wall. "They would have sent you two."



"Maybe." Hal crossed to lay her hand on his arm. "I hate seeing you like this. What we came to do is send you to bed." She raised a finger as he started to protest. "Listen to me. Mihael, can I call you Mihael?"



"No. You can call me Mello."



"Ok." Hal breathed deeply. "You are worrying about Matt, because he won\'t be able to sleep so his mental faculties will be becoming sluggish. At the same time, you have been awake for well over twenty-four hours, you haven\'t eaten properly and you keep rubbing your forehead. You don\'t have to be a genius to know that you have a headache. What bastard good are you going to be in finding Matt if you are just replicating his physical symptoms here? You will just start making mistakes and that is worse."



Chrissie pressed her back up against the wall on the other side of him. "Salvo won\'t go to bed until you do, because he doesn\'t want to let you down. Everyone else is feeling guilty because they have done the sensible thing. Near\'s been up as long as you have, so you\'re not back up for each other."



Mello gestured for them both to stop. "You really think I could sleep?" He growled.



"Maybe not." Hal hissed back. "But you\'re emotional and spent. Lying down in a dark room for an hour might just help, don\'t you think?"



Chrissie smiled, "Hal\'s right. Just a lie down and I promise to call you if anything important happens at all. If you can\'t sleep, then say your rosary. Get some divine intervention on the case."



"Honestly, Mello. I would send anyone to bed hours before this. Even I\'ve had a couple of hours. There\'s only you, Near and Salvo who haven\'t put your head down and guess which three people are doing the most unproductive staring into space?" Hal rubbed his arm. "Help us find Matt by going and getting some sleep. I\'ve already sent Near to bed and he\'s gone. You\'re going to need your wits about you, if the plan at dusk involves you going to Wareham Forest."



"Ok!" Mello snapped. "I\'ll lie down in the dining room."



"No, there\'s a bed for you."



"I\'ll lie down in the fucking dining room!" Mello yelled.



Chrissie pursed her lips, irritably. "Whatever! I\'ve done my bit."



Hal though glared into his face. "Will you stop acting like a five year old? Haven\'t we had this conversation before? Now, I am not your mother, but I am perfectly willing to lead you at gunpoint into a bedroom and..." She was disarmed suddenly by a grin on Mello\'s face. It transformed his features, despite his sunken eyes. "Don\'t you even try that. I know it\'s a tactic. You can go through your entire range and I\'m still going to insist you go to bed."



"Ok, stop nagging. I\'m going to have a lie down." Mello strode away in the direction he had arrived.



"He doesn\'t know where his bedroom is." Hal frowned.



Chrissie shook her head. "That\'s because he\'s going to lie down in the dining room. You obviously know him, but not that well. There\'s no telling him to do anything once he\'s made his mind up."



It was less than two hours later, when Hal popped her head around the dining room door to survey him. Mello\'s head was on his rolled up jacket and he was curled up like a cat, or a small child. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady and deep enough to imply that he had finally dozed off. She debated waking him and determined that the consequences of not doing it outweighed the pros of leaving him sleeping. She whispered, "Mello?"



His eyes opened immediately. "What?"



"Just one question, then you can go back to sleep. What\'s omerta?"



"I can\'t tell you." Mello smiled faintly, but the humour didn\'t reach his eyes. "Where\'s it come up?"



"One of the children staying in the same hotel as Roger mentioned it over lunch. The context was Near\'s investigation of this case," She raised her hand, "remember that none of them know that you\'re all involved. However Near\'s questioning has leaked some information amongst them. They do know about the bomb and that people have been murdered. They were questioning Roger and he stated that he couldn\'t discuss it, but he hoped that none of them were involved. One of the children apparently replied, \'Omerta\'. Roger appears to think it may have resonance for you."



Mello unfolded, belying his aching muscles in a near graceful movement. "Bring the kid in." He stretched, then blinked. "Ah. Right." He seemed troubled, but recovered. "Hal, I\'m going to need two police officers. Male, as big as you can find, they need to look like real bruisers. Black suits, if possible. I need a change of clothes as well. I\'ll draw you the sort of thing. Also, I\'m going to need the biggest baseball bat you can find."



"Mello, what are you going to do with a big baseball bat?"



"Pretend I\'m Neapolitan." Mello smirked and sashayed out back into the main room. "How\'s it going in here?"



Nearly an hour and quarter passed before Mello stood outside the interview room staring at the door. He was flanked by two male officers, who dwarved him with their bulk. Behind the wall, Near watched, his finger rapidly twirling a strand of hair, which was his only outward show of nerves. When Mello smiled suddenly, Near\'s mouth opened, but Hal whispered, "He knows what he is doing, I\'m sure of it." Near stared at the floor.



An officer opened the door and led his colleague in, radiating menace, but standing back to reveal the cautious expression of the teenager inside. Then Mello marched in and the door was closed. The blond\'s gaze sliced through the boy, before Mello sat down, a serpentine smile cutting his face. "I wonder," he asked slowly, savouring each word, "are you a man of honour?"



"Mello. I thought Near..."



Mello stared at the boy, but directed his question to the black suited man on his right. "You told me he was our friend." He blinked at the teenager. "Neuron, are you our friend?"



The scruffy boy peered out from under wild hair, his face ashen. "You\'re working with Near?"



"I think I will ask the questions. Button? Do you even know about our thing?"



"I thought you had left the Mafia."



Mello leaned forward, his eyes becoming shaded. "You don\'t leave the Mafia, Neuron." He snickered. "Whatever made you think that you did?" He leaned back. "Now, my associate tells me that you have been indiscreet. I admit that my interest was piqued when I heard the words \'Wammy\'s House\' and now I discover that it\'s you. How\'s Kato?"



Neuron yelled, "You bastard! What have you done with my sister?"



Mello blinked. "She\'s safe." He replied, in a tone which suggested that she wasn\'t at all. "After all, I too am a man of honour and I wouldn\'t dream of contravening the rules." His gaze became fixed, unblinking, terrifying. "You know the rules, don\'t you, Neuron? After all, you are a made man now."



"Yes, and if you lay a finger on her, my capo will start something with your family."



"And your capo is?" Mello continued to stare.



"Omerta."



"The code of silence isn\'t amongst friends, Neuron. What is the eighth rule?" There was a stare-off, then Mello rose. "You\'re boring me, child. You talk in public too much. You break rules two, three and seven, now you\'re breaking rule eight. Your capo will thank me." He held out his hand and an enormous baseball bat was placed into it. "You traitor! You betrayer! You Judas! You thought we wouldn\'t find out? You thought our friends wouldn\'t call in the one person who could get past Near\'s security? You thought we would forgive disloyalty?"



Neuron was terrified, recognising both words and weapon from one of the more infamous of Al Capone\'s massacres. He had even eaten a meal before the blond had arrived. It had had a note attached, \'Saluto from a friend\', which Neuron had puzzled over and ignored. Mello, if continuing to emulate the great Mafioso don, would now break every bone in Neuron\'s body, before a soldier finished him off with a bullet to the back. "No! Stop! I\'ve not been initiated! I\'ve not taken the oath. I don\'t know the rules!"



All three men laughed. Mello slammed the bat down onto the table, though he never took his gloved hand off it. "So what are you? We know about the bomb at Wammy\'s House. Pretty clever, I thought, but the rest is what you are about to tell us all about."



"I\'m going to be a button man. I met a man, who can get me in. I\'m helping him out with some things." Neuron gushed. "I swear I wouldn\'t have broken any rules if I knew about them."



Mello smirked and sat down facing him. The bat was swung, in figures of eight, in one hand. "Keep talking, punk."



"The man is a capo in the English Mafia."



"Name?" Mello looked like he was really enjoying himself. It was chilling. "So he can be called to verify this."



"Catania."



Mello raised an eyebrow and bit off a section of chocolate. "Family?"



"I don\'t know."



"You don\'t know much do you?" He smirked. "You\'re showing fear, Neuron." The teenager instantly schooled his features into a neutral expression, though his eyes darted towards the door. Mello sighed. "You\'re boring me now. You obviously know nothing about this operation. You\'re patently no-one. Bruno, cap him for indiscretion."



One of the men behind him brought out a .45, the silencer already fitted, and stalked around the table. Neuron\'s chair screeched back, his composure crumbling. "I\'m sorry! No, please! Please let me tell you!"



Mello raised a hand and the officer stopped. "I\'m listening."



"Catania was in Wammy\'s House too. He introduced me to this chick who was also there. They had a plan to get us all into the top rank." His eyes grew wide as he faced Mello, then the boy rose and dropped to his knees in front of him. His hands groped for Mello\'s hand and he kissed a gloved finger. "I was wrong to go against you."



"The lady\'s name?"



"Hollow."



"Now tell me something I don\'t know." Mello stared at him in utter contempt. "You think I didn\'t know all this shit? The three of you have been killing people who I grew up with. You have planned to destroy Wammy\'s House with all the children and staff still in it. Catania killed Hollow with a catheter pumped with air right in her jugular. This is all leading to luring out me and Near, so you can kill us, kill the others and secure a place at the top of the game for yourselves. Big man, aren\'t you, Neuron? You don\'t think that Catania is going to kill you and Kato next?" Mello\'s eyes narrowed. "You have taken Matt, where is he?"



"I don\'t know." Neuron felt the click of Bruno\'s gun behind his head. "I swear! I don\'t know!" He was trembling. Mello didn\'t speak, Bruno didn\'t shoot. "I swear, I don\'t know. I wasn\'t involved in that side of it." More silence. "Ok! I knew it was happening. It was me on the other end of the telephone telling Matt about the bombs." He blinked back tears, but Mello was still smiling. "It\'s somewhere on the south coast, in Dorset."



"Good boy, Neuron." Mello clicked his fingers and his man\'s gun was withdrawn. "I may decide to let you live. You are working for me now." He used his foot to push the teenager over onto his back. "So tell me, how do we contact Catania?"



Twenty minutes later, Mello marched into the main work room, everyone turning to look at him. Linda rounded on him. "I thought you actually were in the Mafia!" As he smirked, she pointed to his screen. "Why were you speed-reading \'The Godfather\' before you went in?"



"I had to find out what he was expecting to hear." Mello shrugged and related all that he\'d learned. He held up a mobile \'phone. "I have Catania\'s number here. I just need to find out who the fucker is."



"Well, we\'ve had excitement too. That\'s why Near is on the \'phone and Lamond\'s gone to throw up." Linda gestured. "We were sitting here waiting for you to do whatever it was you were doing, when there\'s a call. A big \'F\' on the screen and a lovely Irish brogue going, \'Century, you motherfucker, what are you doing?\' The upshot is that there\'s some kind of seige situation going on over there. The Garda on one side and Fenian on the other. They can\'t get to him, but he can\'t get out. Near is currently directing the Garda not to shoot him."



Mello danced across to Century and patted his shoulder. "Brilliant work! Tell him that he\'s off the hook. It was Hollow, Neuron and someone called Catania. Tell him to get his arse over here, we may need his potholing skills."



Salvo slapped Mello\'s back. "You know where Matt is!"



"Not yet." Mello glared. "But the net is closing and it\'s nearly time for me to go to Wareham Forest."