You pick up the hurried sound of their footsteps, a pitter-patter that is almost in sync with the frenetic notes of the piano echoing through the hall. Smiling, you adjust your spectacles and lean back in the cosy armchair, closing your eyes. Right on cue, the doors to the auditorium are flung open. Here they are.
“You’ve… led us on a merry chase, Rabbit-chan,” Mori pants. The wound in his side is definitely slowing the relentless detective down. “Or perhaps we were the rabbits all along… and you were the wolf, hidden among us.” He chuckles painfully, looking up at the stage. At you. You do not give him the courtesy of a glance – you keep your eyes closed, enjoying the storm of tones conjured up by the sonata.
“Shinoseki! What have you done with Uehara?” shouts Sakimura. He charges towards you but only manages to take a single step before Mori pulls him back.
“Sakimura, no! This man is dangerous.”
“But-“
You tilt your head, open your eyes, and smile at Sakimura. It appears to have a chilling effect on the boy; he freezes up and stops in mid-sentence. Now that he is fittingly quiet, you say, “Beethoven’s Piano Sonata no. 14 in C-sharp minor ‘Quasi una fantasia’, 3rd movement. Presto agitato.”
“The 14th… the Moonlight Sonata?” murmurs Taketatsu.
“Well done. That is right, Taketatsu-san. As interpreted by Wilhelm Kempff. It is one of my favourite interpretations of the piece. Although here and there you can pick up mistakes in his playing, they are skillful ones borne of emotion – in this performance, Kempff has injected solemn ferocity, barely controlled, barely reined in… the mistakes add to the humanity of the piece. They do not detract from it. Far from it.”
“What is your point, Shinoseki?”
“I thought you of all people would understand, Inspector Mori Akio, formerly of the Metropolitan Police Department.” Your grin elicits a wince from him. With but a subtle suggestion, your intended message has been conveyed – he knows exactly what you are taunting him about. You continue, “Man – the best of man – is flawed. Perfection is cold, clinical, and inhuman. In the world that we live in, too much emphasis is placed on seeking flawlessness. That drives people into misery and despair at their inability to attain perfection. This is also something you know all too well. Have you never thought about how wonderful it would be if no one would be judged for their failures?”
“You have no room to say that, you asshole – you were practically raised by the Shinohara family to be the perfect man,” spits Mori.
“All the more reason for me to empathize with humanity’s faults… and to come to love them.”
“That’s just your Messiah complex speaking.”
You laugh. “Man is a beast of both logic and sentiment. Spirits, on the other hand… are purely emotion. Whether it is love… or hatred…” Standing up from the chair, you approach the edge of the stage.
“Stay right there!” Mori draws his gun, his hand wavering unsteadily.
You stop, a cold smile still etched upon your lips. “I do not pretend to be anyone’s saviour.”
“You twisted bastard! Stop… stop spouting off all this nonsensical bullshit and tell us where Uehara is!” Sakimura seems to have found his tongue again, though his eyes are filled with fear as he gazes upon your countenance.
Running a hand through your bangs, you shake your head. “My my, and you called me obsessed with her. What is she to you, Sakimura-kun?”
“I-I…”
“Do you love her that much? How much do you know about her past? How much do you know of her thoughts?” Your smile growing wider, you add, “How familiar are you with her body?”
“Y-you… what have you done with her?” Rage overcomes his terror – rage at the thought of Uehara being harmed.
“Sakimura-kun, control yourself!”
“Tokigawa-san, I can’t let this bastard go like that!”
“We’re not letting him go! We’ll make him lead us to Uehara!”
You burst into laughter, causing the survivors to stop and stare at you. “Oh, if only you knew,” you whisper gleefully. Turning around, you begin to walk away.
“Shinoseki! I’ll shoot!”
“Shoot, if you can,” you call over your shoulder.
The sharp report of the gun fills the hall twice. As you expected, the bullets miss their mark by far and thud into the far wall – that sort of revolver, combined with Mori’s injury, means that hitting you was always going to be nigh impossible.
“I’ll be waiting for you all at the end,” you chuckle. “Where the land of the living and the dead meet… at the precipice of the Abyss. Perhaps there you might see your daughter again, Inspector Mori. Worry not. Everything will be alright.”
“Shinoseki! Wait!” shouts Mori, but you are already gone, disappearing into the shadows.