Title: Sinners

Author: Ladya C. Maxine

Rating: R

Summary: Tala Ivanov, a law enforcement trainee, is sent to Japan to solve the twisted intentions of a psycho serial killer. Once there, he is sent to interrogate Kai Hiwatari, the most sadistic yet intelligent mass murder in the world. Things only get more complicated when Hiwatari escapes the asylum, and begins a deadly cat-and-mouse game with Tala.

Warnings: yaoi, strong language, mature themes

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. All original characters belong to me. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

A/N: This story was inspired by two of my favourite films: The Silence of the Lambs, and Se7en. Note that in this fic the characters are older than in the series.

Sinners

by Ladya C. Maxine

Monday, January 10th, 2004.

Time: 23.45

Stepping to one side to allow an ashen-faced officer to barge pass him, Tala looked away as the shaken man proceeded to violently vomit in the gutter behind the parked convoy of police cruisers Wailing sirens and excited voices were quick to cover up the heaves as curious onlookers and media crews stood on gathered on tiptoes, trying to sneak around or under the police tape, eager to find out what had turned a cold, uneventful winter night in Tokyo on its head.

‘That can’t be a good sign,’ Tala thought, watching the officer slump against a cruiser as he wiped the sick from his mouth and chin. Raising his black handheld voice recorder to his own lips, Tala’s breath frosted over its receiver as he spoke. “Monday, 23.45. Establishment is an apartment complex.”

“Tala Ivanov?”

He turned to find a stocky officer standing behind him, arms crossed and broad face red from the cold air. Putting away his recorder, he held out a hand but the other didn’t shake it.

“Officer Steven Burke,” the man introduced himself before motioning with a beefy hand for Tala to follow. “Follow me.”

Despite having turned down the offer to shake hands, the man—American, judging by his unmistakeable accent—wasn’t necessarily unfriendly, Tala determined. The din of sirens and the press behind them were only slightly muffled by the doors closing behind them. They found themselves in a shabby hall. Mailboxes, some with broken locks, others with broken doors, collected cobwebs against the opposite wall and the air was grainy with dust as officers searched the area with brushes, dusting off anything they found interesting and snapping photos of them before bagging the whole lot.

“Hope you got enough sleep on the plane-ride over,” Steven said, leading the way up a creaky stairwell. “This is going to be a long night.”

“I’ve only been given the briefest summary of what happened here tonight,” Tala said, taking in the grim interior of the building. Located in one of the shadier neighbourhoods of Tokyo, the place wasn’t one of the most hygienic places he’d ever visited. “I was supposed to head first for the police station the moment I arrived, but while underway I received orders to come straight here for a ‘hands on’ experience. What, exactly, is the situation?”

Steven sighed.

“The tenants on the floor began complaining of a bad smell coming from number 77 a few days ago. The man who lived there, Gary Gao, hadn’t been seen or heard for some time. The landlord didn’t do anything at first, but when the other tenants threatened to take action themselves he went knocking. When no one answered the door he used his own keys to enter. The smell was even worse inside, and something about it shook him up real back. So much that he didn’t dare investigate further. Two patrol officers arrived minutes later and went inside. What they saw in there made one of them faint while the other quickly called for backup.”

Reaching the cordoned-off first floor, they ducked under yet more yellow police tape strung across the stairs for the time being. The police had long evacuated all the other tenants. One officer had been stationed at the door marked 77, relegating those who entered and left. The man nodded to Steven and frowned at Tala, but stepped aside for them.

“Look, kid,” Steven said before entering, even though he couldn’t have been more than five years older than Tala. “I heard that you are a prized student back in the Russian academy, and the Lieutenant wouldn’t have had you flown all the way over here to take part in this case if you weren’t as good as your grades say, but let me warn you: this is the real deal here. Mistakes won’t just be punished with lower grades, and you often won’t be given much time to prep yourself for anything.”

“I didn’t come here expecting pop quizzes,” Tala said, careful not to come off as too confident so early on. “I’m here to do the same job as everyone else.”

Snorting around a smirk, Steven waved further him in, muttering in a knowing voice, “You’ve got spunk, kid, but I’ve been around the block. Wait here and I’ll get Emily.”

Left in the living room, Tala looked about the cluttered apartment, speaking his findings into the recorder, wondering what type of person could possible stand living in such a place. Granted, if kept clean and tidy the place would be a comfortable enough home, but this tenant had not been a big fan of housekeeping. Unwashed clothes were strewn everywhere and Tala couldn’t help noticing they were huge. The furniture was all second hand and shabby—the couch before the crackling television sagged badly in the middle and none of the cushions matched. The curtains were still drawn, and judging by the cobwebs in their folds they hadn’t been opened in a long time.

But it was the smell that really made being here almost unbearable. The few men and women working in here wore white masks to try and keep out some of the stench, which was that of garbage, mould, spoiled food, dank, and something Tala had been quick to memorize early on in his studies: rotting human flesh.

“Well, it’s about time something tasteful showed up in this place,” said a drawling American accent coming from Tala’s left, but it wasn’t Steven.

The man had a good looking chiselled face, which was framed by messy dark red hair that was mostly hidden beneath a black police cap. The leather jacket, with a bald eagle patch sewn on the back, covering the t-shirt with a large marijuana leaf printed on the chest, would have fooled Tala into thinking this man to be a member of the public, had it not been for the badge hanging from around the American’s neck.

The man was shamelessly studying him, eyes travelling from head to toe and back again at a leisurely pace. Meeting Tala’s eyes, he grinned widely.

“So, come here often?”

“Michael, have some decency. This is a crime scene, not a singles’ club.”

A woman wearing round glasses and an annoyed expression walked over, clipboard in one hand while the other gripped a pen. Next to Steven’s bulky frame she looked even smaller, though her stance alone made it clear who was in charge here.

Sighing exaggeratedly, the man—Michael—rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Just trying to lighten to mood for the newbie,” he said.

Giving him an infuriated look, the woman turned to Tala, her expression softening in welcome. She held out a hand.

“Emily Watson, chief forensic officer.” Gesturing with a tired expression at the leather-wearing redhead, she said, “Michael Parker, forensic field commanding officer and my second-in-command. And you’ve already met Steven.”

Michael flashed Tala another one of his toothy grins. Steven snorted next to Emily, rolling his eyes at his team mate’s theatrics.

“Tala Ivanov, criminal psychology student.” He accepted her offered hand gracefully, though he glared suspiciously at Michael when the man stuck out his hand as well. Tala shook it anyways.

“Steven, go see if Eddy has come up with anything in the bedroom. And take Michael with you,” Emily added as a second thought.

“I saw him first,” Michael argued.

“That’s an order,” she deadpanned, narrowing her eyes behind the wide frames.

Grinning devilishly, Michael strutted off after Steven, unable to resist tossing a wink at Tala.

“Don’t worry; you’ll get used to him … in a few years,” Emily said. “We’ll have to save pleasantries for later. You’ve sure got your work cut out for you, and I’m not talking about avoiding Michael. The body’s in the kitchen.”

The small kitchen was being searching by two men in white suits and masks, who were picking through food wrappers and Styrofoam boxes, depositing samples that interested them into paper bags. They looked up when Emily and Tala entered. Handing each a pair of gloves and a mask, the men exited.

“Enjoy,” one of them grumbled as they walked out.

The mask was scented, though it was a very minor reprieve. The gloves felt more effective as Tala pulled them on, eyes already taking in the dismal scene. It was filthier in here than out in the living room, because here was where all the food was.

On the grease splattered stove, each burner had a dirty pot or pan on it, food still caked in them. Used plates and utensils were everywhere, along with empty tin cans and jars and fast food take-out bags. The beer bottles that littered the floor clacked together loudly he and Emily waded inside. The sound startled the resident cockroaches that had emerged after the two previous investigators had left. There was a loud crunch as Emily accidentally stepped on a roach but she barely acknowledged it, her blue eyes following a trail of dripped sauces, soups and crumbs of food across the floor that the pests were feasting on.

The kitchen table—an old plastic lawn furniture—stood in the centre of the room, covered in soiled paper plates, bits of half-eaten sandwiches, potatoes, rice cakes, soup, donuts and other junk food. From the crusty nature of the food remains it was clear that they had been there for at least a day, if not more.

Slumped across the table, face down in a plate of spaghetti, was the dead tenant.

Two chairs strained under his dead weight yet still his massive thighs spilled over the sides. A bulging stomach practically reached the ground while a flabby arm dangled over the edge of the table. His other fist still gripped a fork. He was dressed in just his boxers and a white, sleeveless undershirt with food stains down the front.

“Christ … ” Tala breathed, unable to do anything but stare for the first few minutes.

“Take a look at these.” Even with her slight frame Emily could just barely squeeze between the dead man and the counter. Waving Tala over, she pointed with her pen to the back of the skull where strange bruises freckled the rolls of fat.

“What made them?” Tala asked, studying the half-moon indentions in the skin.

“We’re not sure yet.”

“I wonder why nobody reported him missing. He must have been a recluse,” Tala said, and Emily nodded in confirmation.

“Neighbours say he was a decent enough guy, but very private. So far, we’ve been unable to locate his work place, or find out whether he was even employed at all,” she said. “When informed he was dead, the other tenants were surprised because, other than the smell, they hadn’t noticed anything unusual.”

“Who’d be surprised he died?” a voice drawled as Michael appeared in the doorway. “Just look at this guy! He was a coronary waiting to happen.”

“There was nothing natural about this death,” Tala said, kneeling down to look beneath the table. Coarse rope had been cruelly tied around the swollen purple ankles, having cut off circulation long before the man had passed away. “He was bound.”

“Kinky,” Michael gagged. “Some strange fetish party gone wrong, then?”

“Michael!” Emily said sharply.

“No disrespect for the deceased, but I still don’t see why we were sent here specifically. We’re already on the case of the dead lawyer they found last week. We’ve searched the entire apartment and there’s nothing. Not a word,” Michael insisted.

Behind him Steven and a tall, dark-skinned man with a piercing in one ear appeared.

“He’s right, Emily,” the black officer said, leaning against the doorway. “Hate to say it, but I’m with Mikey on this one: doesn’t look like it could have been the same guy.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Eddie,” Michael said.

“We’ve seen weirder things than this before,” Eddie went on. “This guy could have gotten involved in some bizarre sex ring, had someone tie him up and feed him, overdid it, and died. Freaked, the other probably just hightailed it out of the apartment without notifying anyone.”

“If there was another person we should be able to some fingerprint samples in here,” Steven said.

“I say we leave this to another team, get out of this dump, and get some coffee. Whatcha say, Tala?” Michael asked, not seeming to take the situation as serious as everyone else.

While Emily and her second-in-command squabbled back and forth, Tala inched his way back around the body, almost stepping in a gooey pile of old spaghetti. He studied the back of man’s head, only to look up and find that Eddie had joined him, also pensively looking at the strange marks. He’d donned a mask as well. As had Steven. Emily had shoved a mask into Michael’s hands, but he was still unconvinced their team even needed to be here.

“Eddie Jackson,” the man introduced himself, for politeness’ sake.

“Tala Ivanov. Has the body been moved?”

“Nope.” Guessing where Tala was heading with this, Eddie shrugged. “I’ll take the shoulders.”

Placing a hand on either side of the head while Eddy gripped the broad, fleshy shoulders, Tala counted to three and they both pulled, arms straining under the sheer weight of the dead body. They were finally able to pull him high enough for gravity to do its work and the body slumped against the chairs, which threatened to break under the readjusted weight.

“Oh shit!” Eddie gasped, his lanky body tensing as he jumped back, sending bottles scattering and catching his colleagues’ attention.

Tala hadn’t moved from where he stood right next to the corpse, staring directly down into the purple face. Orange pasta sauce was smeared across the mouth and cheeks, mixed with dark red blood that had seeped from his mouth, nose and …

Michael whistled from the doorway.

“Okay … guess this is a homicide.”

Emily slowly made her way back to the table.

“ … His eyes … Just like Ginko last week … ”

She didn’t finish the sentence though it wasn’t needed as they could all plainly see what was amiss. Empty eye sockets stared up at them. Veins and bone remained at the back of the hollowed gaps, but the eyes themselves had been crudely removed; carved right out of their sockets.

“I want this body in the labs a.s.a.p.,” Emily said to Steven.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That was pretty gutsy,” Michael said, coming to stand next to where Tala was talking into his recorder. “Leave it to the Russians to get right down to business.”

“I was brought here to do a job,” Tala replied, hoping his voice didn’t give away that the sight hadn’t left him completely unfazed.

“Uh-huh,” Michael said, eyes following a cockroach as it skittered in between containers. “Don’t worry, though. If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”

Tala levelled the American’s grin with a glare.

“Do I look like a damsel-in-distress?” he asked frostily.

“Just trying to be friendly. We’re gonna be colleagues from now on, aren’t we?” Michael tugged at his cap, still watching the wandering cockroach. “Besides, I’ve gotta make my move before … Hang on.”

Everyone looked up at the change in tone as Michael’s voice, which had gone from relaxed to dead serious. The cockroach he’d been keeping an eye on had scuttle out of sight beneath the leaky fridge.

“Roaches tend to do that, Michael,” Emily said, using her gloved finger to gently pry the corpse’s mouth further open. “Hiding is second nature to them.”

But Michael walked over to the fridge and used his foot to push aside the rubbish. He paused, then pointed down at the floor.

“Yeah, but can a roach do that?”

Shallow grooves had been dug into the old linoleum before the fridge. Twisting his cap backwards, Michael pushed away even more wrappers and cans. Leaning over the counter, he peered behind the fridge.

“There’s something on the wall back here!” he said. “Someone moved this thing, and recently—the grooves are still clean. Ed, give me a hand with this.”

With some effort the two men managed to drag the fridge far enough to allow a proper view of the wall that had been hidden from them all this time.

“Okay, fine,” Michael finally surrendered. “This is a homicide and it’s the same killer.”

“I knew it,” Emily said, pulling out a camera to snap pictures of the greasy word that had been smeared onto the wall:

GLUTTONY

“Oh, this guy’s really cute,” Michael sneered.

“Just like in Ginko’s office,” Emily said.

“That’s the lawyer you mentioned earlier, right?” Tala asked, getting a confirmation from all three.

Steven returned with six other men, the largest body bag Tala had ever seen and a gurney that didn’t look like it would be able to support the dead body.

“We’ll drive ahead to prepare the equipment,” Emily said. “You can handle things from here, Steven?”

“No problem, boss,” he said, giving a thumbs up.

“Alright then, Steven will take care of the body. Michael and Eddie, make sure we’ve got everything bagged and ready to take back to the station with us. And Michael, while you’re at it, get a copy of the witness statements.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie said while Michael lazily saluted.

“I’d rather get something to eat,” he sighed. “This is going to be a long night.”

“If you’re that hungry, help yourself,” Tala said, nodding at a mouldy box of doughnuts.

“Point taken,” Michael said, balking at the suggestion but slinging an arm around Tala’s shoulders. “Though we could get some grub later, if you want.”

“Let’s get going, Romeo,” Eddie said, grabbing the other’s arm and tugging him out of the kitchen. “Check you guys back at headquarters.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him,” Tala said to Emily as he stepped out of the kitchen, removing his mask.

“He kinda grows on you in due time … like fungus,” Emily said, pushing him ahead of her to make room for Steven and the others, who stood deliberating how they were going to get the massive corpse through the doors and down the stairs. “He acts all tough and cool, but in all fairness he is a good guy and a great officer.”

Out in the hall Tala breathed in the fresh air appreciatively. The police tape had been removed to allow for the gurney to come through earlier. Tattered yellow remains floated in the faint draft as they descended the stairwell.

“So, what do you think of your first real crime scene?” Emily suddenly asked.

“Poignant,” Tala answered. “Not something I’ll forget, and a pretty strong indication how different the real world is from the controlled environment of a classroom or training facility or supervised fieldwork.”

“Well, for someone who’s still in training you conduct yourself very professionally,” she said, her long orange ponytail swinging from side to side with every step. “I knew you were best in your class, but I wasn’t expecting you to show this level of maturity and collectiveness. You’ll make a valuable addition to the research team.”

Tala smiled uncomfortably at the compliment.

“I was only allowed to come here because Bryan is convinced I have a lot to offer.”

“On a first name basis with the Lieutenant?” Emily asked with a raised brow.

Her insinuation brought blush to his face, but he shook his head.

“We’re old friends; we’ve known each other for about ten years.”

“That’s a pretty long time. But—no offence—he never mentioned you.”

“We sort of lost contact when he moved to Japan. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

“Lieutenant Balcov hardly ever makes mistakes. I see him regularly around the station. Sharp as a needle, and to the point. If he’s put this much faith in you, then you must be really something.” She patted his arm encouragingly. “Do you want to make a quick stop at a coffee shop? Station coffee isn’t strong enough and Michael will be more agreeable once he gets a few properly brewed cups into his system.”

Nodding, Tala followed her out the building and it was decided that they would take his car. Eyeing the sleek vehicle, she raised a brow as she waited for him to unlock the doors.

“Are you sure you’re just a trainee?” she joked as they got in.

“Let’s just say that the academy funds her students pretty well,” he replied, staring the ignition.

“I’m still paying back my college tuition.”

He laughed at that, pulling out onto the street. People were still milling around. Having heard that a body had been found, they were probably loitering in morbid hopes of catching a glimpse of it as it was wheeled into the waiting ambulance. Following Emily’s directions to the coffee shop, Tala listened to her as she explained the next steps in this new investigation.

Being a more experienced officer meant that she could cope better with the scene they had just abandoned. As he listened to Emily he admired her ability to detach herself from the crime. Despite having been praised for his ‘professional’ handling of the situation, Tala felt a cold seep down his back every time he thought of the overfed, eyeless body in the festering kitchen.

Tbc …

Read & Review, please.