________________________________________________________________________
          J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:

                               STIGMA
                              Part Four

                     By J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S.
                       Special Agent in Charge,
                         Fission Park Press
                          wildeman@psn.net
                     http://www.psn.net/~wildeman/

            The characters and situations of Ranma 1/2 are 
            the creation and property of Rumiko Takahashi 
            and Shogakukan/Kitty TV.

                        --DARKFIC WARNING--

          The following work of fanfiction contains graphic 
          and violent presentations of torture, sexual assault, 
          and murder. It is not for the faint of heart or the 
          easily disturbed.
_______________________________________________________________________



                             -Fifteen-


     Inspector Takeda and Detective Lieutenant Ozawa stepped out of their 
car and into the warm Nerima summer morning. The wooden palisade of the 
Tendo Dojo stood before them, shaded from the sun by the structure of the 
house beyond. A dog barked somewhere to their right as they approached the 
gate.
     Akane Tendo came jogging down the street towards them. She stopped 
several meters short of them and caught her breath. Her expression was 
pained with the reminder of Yuka's death provided by the presence of the 
two policemen.
     "Can I help you, officers?" she asked.
     "We have a few questions to ask Saotome Ranma," Takeda responded 
politely.
     She opened the gate for them.
     "Follow me, please," she said tonelessly. 
     They stepped through the gate and into the front yard. Several cats 
lounged on the grass in a bit of sunshine that poked over the roof. Akane 
whirled on them, and chased them with agitated shouts over the palisade.
     "Stupid cats," she grumbled to the two policemen. "They've been a 
nuisance for weeks now."
     Takeda looked at Ozawa, who shrugged. They continued into the house.
     "Raaaannnnmmmaaaa!" Akane shouted. 
     "Whaaat...!?" a groggy and irritated voice responded from the 
living room. The voice became suddenly grave with concern. "Don't tell 
me you cooked breakfast this morning?" This was followed by chorus of 
surprised, possibly even terrified, yelps.
     "Jerk," Akane said to herself. "Inspectors Takeda and Ozawa are here," 
she said to him as she entered the living room. A large panda bear, its 
fur wet and musty, sat next to Ranma Saotome and a young woman with a 
short bob of mahogany colored hair. A middle-aged man dressed in a coarse 
brown gi set down his newspaper and stroked thoughtfully at his full 
black mustache.
     "Good morning to you," Takeda offered with a bow. 
     "What's this about?" Ranma asked. 
     "We have a few more questions to ask you," Takeda replied politely. 
"Questions based on information that has turned up since I took over the 
investigation."
     "Sure," Ranma replied. "Do you mind if we talk outside? I've got some 
training exercises to work on."
     Takeda had no problems with that. He was going to suggest somewhere 
else as it was.
     Ranma led them into the back yard. A garden and koi pond were the most 
notable features of the place. A wooden post wrapped with cotton rope stood 
in the ground. Ranma took a stance within arm's reach of the post and began 
throwing punches at it.
     "What can you tell me about your break-up with Kuonji Ukyo?" Takeda 
began.
     Ranma didn't pause in his strikes. "Break-up? With Ukyo?" He cocked 
his head as if the concept was alien to him, while still throwing punches 
that slammed into the wood. "I ain't real sure what you mean by that."
     "Let me elaborate," Takeda told him. "I was told about an encounter 
between you and Kuonji about ten years ago that made her so upset that she 
renounced her gender and began dressing as a boy. I realize that you would 
have been young children at the time, but I would like to know if there is 
any veracity to this story."
     "Who told you this?" Ranma asked.
     "I'd rather not divulge that information."
     "Why don't you ask Ukyo about it?"
     "I will," Takeda said. "But I'd like to hear your side, if there is in 
fact any credibility to this information."
     "If you want the truth, you should talk to my old man about it." He 
paused as if considering his words. "Nah, if you go to him, the truth is 
about the last thing you'll get from him."
     He slammed another fist into the wood.
     "I guess it's true," he went on. "There was this big misunderstanding 
when we were kids, and Ukyo hated me and my dad because of it. She decided 
she couldn't be a girl any more, and started dressing and acting like a boy."
     "What was the nature of this misunderstanding?" Ozawa asked.
     Ranma flushed red.
     "It was, um, it was an engagement," he said at length. His embarassment 
became anger. "My stupid old man's been engaging me to people for years 
without telling me!"
     "So the engagement was broken?" Ozawa pressed. He couldn't imagine the 
kind of scoundrel who would do such a dishonorable thing. More than once, 
apparently.
     Ranma looked uneasy again. "Not really." He fidgeted with his thumbs 
for a few moments. "Not *technically,* I guess... I try not to think about 
it all that much."
     Takeda nodded as he took notes. "Does she still feel this way? Hating 
you, I mean."
     "No!" Ranma cried. "I mean, no, she don't hate me. Once she figured 
out that it was all pop's fault, she started acting pretty nice to me."
     "How about the cross-dressing?" Takeda pressed.
     Ranma shrugged. "Yeah, she dresses like a boy at school and stuff -but 
that's because she registered at school as a boy. She doesn't have much 
choice, I guess. She's not into other girls, if that's what you're getting 
at."
     Takeda wrote this down.
     Ranma toed the ground near the post. "So what does this have to do 
with the murders?"
     "Not much," Takeda grunted. "Not in a direct sense. I need it for 
background on a suspect."
     "Who?"
     Takeda didn't reply. He flipped through some notes instead. "Tell 
me what you can about Konatsu Kenzan and Kurenai Tsubasa."
     Ranma shrugged again. "Konatsu's okay, I guess. I thought *I* had a 
screwed up childhood 'til I met him. A little weird, but a nice guy. I know 
he likes Ukyo a lot."
     "What about Kurenai?"
     "He's an asshole," Ranma replied. "Some kinda freak. He's obsessed 
with Ukyo, he won't leave her alone. I guess he met her when she was at 
a boy's school -she was pretending to be a boy- and decided that the only 
way to get her was to dress and act like a girl." His hands moved in 
erratic circles as he tried to make sense of the tangled relationships. 
"My head hurts just thinking about it."
     "Would you say that Kurenai is a dangerous individual?"
     "Not to me," Ranma snorted, "But yeah, he is pretty dangerous. He's 
a master of disguise. Not people I mean, but things. I've seen him disguised 
as a tree, a mailbox, a soda machine, you name it. He does an amazing job 
too. He'll sit there in disguise until you come by, and then he attacks out 
of the blue."
     Takeda looked at Ozawa, who made a few quick notes. 
     "What do you mean by 'attacks'?"
     Ranma shrugged. "He throws himself at Ukyo. He tries to beat up anyone 
who he thinks is a rival for her. I paste him all the time, but I've been 
studying martial arts all my life. He's probably pretty dangerous to other 
people."
     He punched the wooden post again. The wood splintered under the blow. 
"Ukyo didn't do it. She *wouldn't* do it. I know she wouldn't."
     "I never said that she did," Takeda replied. "What makes you think she 
is a suspect?"
     "Ain't it obvious?" Ranma growled. "You ask me questions about her that 
you shouldn't know about, then you ask me about two people who are always 
around in her life. You tell me."
     "I'm gathering background information and verifying testimony given to 
me by other people in the neighborhood," Takeda said firmly. "That's all."
     "You swear?" Ranma asked warily.
     Takeda nodded. "Now how about a Chinese delivery boy named Mousse?"
     Ranma rolled his eyes. If this guy was just trying to throw off his 
suspicions by asking about Mousse... 
     "What's there to talk about?"
     "Would you consider him dangerous?"
     "Ha," Ranma replied haughtily. "He's gotta see me before he can hurt 
me."
     Takeda remembered the boy's thick glasses. "He's that blind?"
     "I guess when he has his glasses on, he's not that bad, but he never 
wears the stupid things."
     "How do you think he gets along with girls?"
     Ranma cocked his head to either side to work kinks out of his neck. 
"The only girl in the world that means anything to him is Shampoo, and she's 
too busy trying to get me to marry her to care about him," he said slowly. 
"I guess she treats him like dirt, but the idiot lets her do it."
     "How do you feel about Shampoo?" Takeda asked. "Is his fear of you 
'taking' Shampoo from him justified?"
     Ranma shook his head. "I don't want nothing to do with Shampoo," he 
said tersely. "She won't leave me alone. Mousse is just pissed off that 
she's giving all her attention to me."
     The two detectives jotted this down.
     "What can you tell me about Kuno Kodachi?"
     Ranma's eyes lit up like a slot machine paying out.
     "Man," he began. "If there was anyone who freaks me out more than her, 
I couldn't tell ya who. She's a snake in the grass."
     "Could you clarify that, please?" Ozawa asked. "Give some examples."
     Ranma shrugged. "There was this time when Akane was supposed to take 
Kodachi on in a martial arts gymnastic tournament, and Kodachi decided to 
ambush her before the match so that she would have to forfeit. I guess 
Kodachi does that all the time. She'd beat up her opponents before the 
matches, or poison them, or--"
     "Poison?" Ozawa asked sharply.
     "Sleeping powder, mostly," Ranma supplied. He shuddered. "She also 
uses paralysis powder. I don't think she's ever used anything worse than 
that, but you never know with a freako like her."
     Takeda noted this as well. This was a revelation disturbing enough to 
warrant follow-up.
     "Anything else?" Ranma asked, as the two detectives made notes.
     "Just a moment, Saotome," Takeda grunted. "I want to ask you about a 
person named Hibiki Ryouga."
     Before Ranma could answer, the voice of Ryouga Hibiki echoed in the 
early morning calm.

     "RANMA!!! For what you've done to Akane, prepare to die!"

     "What did I do this time?" Ranma yelped as he jumped clear of the 
descending Ryouga. The lost boy's finger struck the ground, and a gout of 
rocks and dirt exploded around him. The blast drove the two policemen 
stumbling backwards.
     "I heard about you and Shampoo going out tonight during the festival!" 
Ryouga growled, throwing himself at Ranma. "How dare you call yourself 
Akane's fianc�, you two-timer!"
     The pig-tailed martial artist swung his arms in swift circles to block 
the explosion of blows that Ryouga lashed at him. Failing to connect, Ryouga 
followed up with a surprise spin kick that sent Ranma sailing to the ground.
     "It ain't true!" Ranma snarled as he jumped to his feet. "Shampoo just 
said that, and like an idiot, Akane believed her!"
     Ryouga's eyes went bloodshot. "What did you call Akane?!" he raged.
He whipped out his umbrella and whirled it around. 
     Ranma sank low into a fighting stance. To Ozawa, who practiced shotokan 
karate, it seemed as if Ranma was reluctant to block the umbrella, and was 
opting for a stance that would allow him to dodge, or possibly even maneuver 
Ryouga into the pond. 
     "Shut up!" Ranma cried angrily. "If you weren't so busy sneaking into 
her room like some kinda pervert, you woulda never heard about it -right 
P-chan?" He made oinking noises for added effect.
     "Gggghhyyhh," was Ryouga's eloquent reply. His eyes crossed, and he 
charged with a blood-curdling cry.
     Ranma kept his cool and stood his ground. Takeda and Ozawa watched 
Ryouga charge headlong at the pig-tailed martial artist, only to see him 
execute a phenomenal vertical leap, and vault over Ryouga's head. The 
yellow-shirted Ryouga stumbled out of control and dove helplessly into the 
koi pond with a splash.
     Ranma landed deftly and brushed at his hands.
     "Moron."
     The panda bear appeared at the patio and threw a wooden signboard 
at Ranma, who had his back turned to the house. Takeda made out the crude 
scribbling on the sign in the moment before it crashed into the back of 
Ranma's head -spilling him into the pond with Ryouga.

     <Keep it down while I'm watching my soaps, boy!>

     Takeda and Ozawa brushed themselves off and started for the pond to 
pull the two boys out of the water. They stopped short as Ranma appeared, 
shivering and wet. There was something terribly wrong about the boy.
     For one thing, his hair had changed from black to scarlet. He was also 
a lot shorter. The most obvious sign that something was terribly awry was 
the fact that Ranma was now amazingly buxom for a young man.
     Ranma was so ashamed that the water was steaming off of her head. She 
gave the two detectives an uneasy look before bowing solemnly for the two.
     "I can explain this," she said softly.
     "I hope so," Takeda replied, for want of something, anything, rational
that would even dare to explain what he had just seen. To make matters 
worse, Ryouga was gone -replaced by a small miserable black pig. His clothes 
floated in the middle of the koi pond, but the young man was gone.
     "I'm cursed," Ranma said to them. "Every time I get hit with cold 
water I change into a girl." She picked up the little black pig, who was 
obviously unhappy with her, for it tried to scratch her with its little 
hooves. "Ryouga here turns into a pig."
     "I see..." Takeda replied, still at a loss for words. 
     "This happened in China," Ranma continued. "We fell in these cursed 
springs in a place called Jusenkyo. Hot water turns us back."
     Takeda looked back to the house, where the panda sat watching 
television. Kasumi Tendo's words came back to him. At the time he had 
written her off as being a few stones short of a game of Go. Now he wasn't 
so certain of that opinion.
     "I see..." he said evenly. "And the panda in there?"
     Ranma grit her teeth as she rubbed at her sore head. "That's my stupid 
old man. These curses are all HIS fault."
     Takeda nodded sagely. "I thought you would say something like that."
     Ranma dropped the pig, who stared lightning death at him before 
scurrying off. Takeda didn't have the presence of mind to stop him from 
letting the pig go. If it really was Ryouga -and despite what rational 
thought might have to say in the matter, there was no reason at this point 
to believe it wasn't- he needed to talk to him. As a human.
     "Are there any other people you know of with these, um, curses?" Ozawa 
asked. 
     "Shampoo and Mousse," Ranma replied, eager to remove himself as the 
subject of conversation. "And this jerk named Pantyhose Tarou," he added.
     "And what do they, er, become?"
     "Shampoo turns into a cat," Ranma said with a shudder. When he saw the 
look they gave him at his reaction he explained with, "I don't like cats... 
As for Mousse, he turns into a duck."
     Ozawa nodded with a kind of blind faith. "And this Pantyhose fellow?"
     Ranma thought for a moment. "I dunno what you'd call him... He's mostly 
a bull. With wings and octopus tentacles."
     If not for the deadly serious tone he used, they would have arrested 
Ranma on the spot for obstructing justice with such a remark. Only now they 
weren't so sure it was a lie. Not after what they had just witnessed.
     "So you're the only one who remains human," Takeda observed.
     Ranma nodded sheepishly. "I guess I got kinda lucky there. I hate this 
cursed body, but at least I'm not someone's potential dinner." He gestured 
to his clothes, which were muddy and mussed. "Um, I'm gonna get cleaned 
up a bit if you don't mind." He pointed to a concrete pad with a steel pipe 
and spigot over by the house. A galvanized bucket sat under the spigot to 
catch the slow steady drip.
     Takeda nodded. "Go ahead."
     Ranma started walking towards the pad, with Takeda and Ozawa following. 
     "Where did Ryouga go?" Ozawa asked.
     "Beats me," Ranma replied petulantly. "The idiot's got the worst sense 
of direction in the world. He gets lost in his own house some times."
     "You know where he lives, then," Takeda observed.
     "Yeah," Ranma replied. "It's a good train ride from here. You can ask 
about him there, but he's so lost all the time that he's almost never home."
     "I'm sure we can reach his parents there," Ozawa said.
     "Ha," Ranma snorted. "His parents are just as bad as he is. I think 
it's genetic."
     The pad was wet and so was the ground around it. Ranma's bare feet made 
crumbly prints in the loamy soil. Takeda noted that there were several other 
kinds of prints in the earth, including -presumably- panda tracks.
     Ranma took off her shirt, reckless in her nudity. Takeda and Ozawa 
averted their eyes until Ranma turned her back to them.
     "You should do something about that leaky faucet," Takeda said to her.
     "I guess so," Ranma admitted. She dumped the bucket out on the ground. 
"Stupid cats keep knocking the bucket over."
     Takeda nodded, noting the cats that Akane had chased away earlier. He 
caught one frolicking in the bushes near by, something Ranma was too busy 
washing herself to notice.
     "I'd go take a bath," Ranma said to them as she washed in the cold 
water. "But last month's gas bill was pretty high. Mister Tendo kinda blows 
a head gasket when that happens." She shivered as she dumped a bucket full 
of the stuff on her head. "Guess I'm stuck as a girl until Kasumi makes 
tea," she observed sadly.
     The cat meowed. Ranma froze.
     "What was that?" she cried softly.
     "A cat," Takeda replied. "In the bushes."
     "Get rid of it," Ranma said, her voice close to pleading. "Please? I 
told you I don't like cats." Her body froze, twitching only slightly to 
the clever of eye.
     Takeda shooed the cat away. In the process he spied what the creature 
had been playing with. It looked like some kind of plant. He put the sprig 
in his pocket.
     "The cat is gone now," he told Ranma.
     "Ahhhh..." Ranma sighed with relief. The tension in her body evaporated 
noticeably. She washed her shirt thoroughly under the spigot and then wrung 
it out to dry. "Thanks."
     She put the slightly damp shirt back on. "Any other questions?"
     Takeda nodded. "Just for the record, I'd like to see you change back 
into a male. You say hot water turns you back?"
     Ranma shrugged. "I guess I could get Kasumi to put some water on. After 
all, I don't wanna interfere with police business."
     They went back to the house. The panda was still busy watching the 
television. Kasumi was dusting. The girl with the mahogany colored hair 
shook her head at Ranma as she entered.
     "I thought I heard Ryouga outside," Nabiki observed dryly.
     "Kasumi," Ranma asked sheepishly. "Could I get some hot water?"
     "Oh Ranma," Kasumi sighed. "Again?"
     "This is a police matter," Takeda told her.
     "I'll be right back," Kasumi replied with a quick smile.
     A gnomish little man sat in the corner with a clothes iron. He seemed 
to be pressing a pile of women's underwear in varying sizes, styles, and 
colors. At the mention of the word 'police,' the little man hastily gathered 
up his lingerie collection and placed it in a green cotton sack.
     "Now what trouble have you gotten into, eh Ranma?" the dwarf said 
mockingly to Ranma.
     "Shut up, you old freak," Ranma spat. An evil grin lit up her face. 
"They're here to talk to you about your panty thefts if you really want to 
know..."
     Happousai's eyes bulged froglike. "W-What?" he croaked. "Ranma, you 
traitor!" He was set to spring at the pig-tailed girl when the curious 
looks of Inspector Takeda and Detective Lieutenant Ozawa bore down on him.
     He composed himself. "I- I mean, what are you talking about, Ranma 
my boy? Did you forget to take your medicine again?" He cast doelike glances 
towards the two police. "I mean, we know how befuddled you get when you 
forget to do that," he hemmed and hawed. "He's really quite a sad story," 
he added for the policemen's benefit.
     "We're investigating a homicide," Takeda said to Happousai. "Nothing 
more than that. If you want to discuss other criminal matters, we can direct 
you to the appropriate authorities."
     "No no," Happousai said with a cracking smile. "That won't be necessary, 
officers." He looked at a non-existent watch on his wrist. "Oh dear, look 
at the time. Gotta go!" 
     With that he gathered up his sack of stolen undies and bounded down the 
hall.
     Kasumi returned with a kettle of hot water, which Ranma took gratefully.
She stood out on the deck, and in full view of Takeda and Ozawa, she poured 
the contents on her head. They watched curls of steam waft around her as she 
began growing taller. Her hair changed back to black, and her bosom faded 
away into the deep masculine chest of the Ranma Saotome they had spoken with 
earlier.
     "You believe me now?" he asked them, his voice clearly male.
     Having no choice other than to declare themselves mentally unfit for 
duty, Takeda and Ozawa nodded in the affirmative. A silence hung in the air 
as the two men contemplated the situation.
     Ozawa's cell phone rang, dispelling the silence. He excused himself 
and answered it. Takeda watched the man nod gravely and then hung up.
     "Number four just turned up," he said quietly in Takeda's ear. "But 
there's a catch."
     "What catch?" Takeda hissed.
     "This one was found in an alley close to the shopping district."
     Takeda frowned. "Copycat? Or a change in m.o.?"
     "I guess we'll find out when we get there. The rest of the 
investigative team is on their way. The police have already secured the 
scene."
     "That's all we have for now," Takeda told Ranma, we must be going for 
the moment, but we may be back later if we turn up something else. Stick 
around."
     Ranma shrugged. "Whatever."
     They excused themselves and left the house. 
     "If I hadn't seen it twice with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed 
it," Ozawa said as they stepped through the gate. 
     "Do me a favor and run it by Takahashi in the Occult Section," Takeda 
grunted. "If anyone knows about weird Chinese curses, it's her."
     "I would have done that even if you hadn't asked."
     Takeda opened the door of the car.
     "You know," he began, "I think we just found out who the mysterious 
Pig-Tailed Girl was..."
     Ozawa clapped a fist into his upturned palm. "You may be right!" 
This was followed by a frown. "No, that can't be it. Kuno Tatewaki hates 
Saotome Ranma, and the sentiment is probably mutual. If Kuno was so obsessed 
with this pig-tailed girl, you would think that Saotome would reveal his 
curse to him in order to make him stop. Once the curse was revealed it would 
as plain as day that Saotome and the Pig-Tailed Girl were one in the same."
     "You're right," Takeda agreed. "No one could be that stupid."



                              -Sixteen-



     The alley was sealed off by two uniformed police from the local koban, 
and by several lengths of yellow plastic tape. Crowds of people formed, 
and were in turn politely asked to disperse. While the public did as it was 
asked, there were enough of the curious to keep several people at the 
fringes of the boundaries at any one time.
     "Talk about a circus," Takeda muttered as he saw the uniformed koban 
officers giving smiles and polite assurances that there was nothing to see, 
would you please move along now.
     He saw a dark blue coroner's van pull up close to the barrier. Doctor 
Ito and an assistant stepped out, and consulted with Matsumoto, who was 
already on the scene. A white Toyota sedan and a minivan parked across the 
street, and Tokaida and Kogawa got out with their own assistants.
     "Who found the body?" Takeda asked as Matsumoto joined them.
     "Officer Yanagimachi," the Nerima detective replied. "He's inside the 
coffee shop." The man jerked his thumb behind him at the building that 
abutted the alley. "He was making the rounds this morning when he saw a dog 
digging through some overturned trash cans. He chased the dog away, and was 
going to tell the owner of the shop about the problem when he spotted a 
foot sticking out of the pile. He called the koban from the shop, and 
sealed the area as best he could until help arrived. He says he never 
touched the body."
     Takeda nodded approval. "Good work," he grunted. "The man should get 
a commendation for his quick thinking."
     Matsumoto nodded agreement.
     Doctor Ito slipped under the barrier with his assistant. Takeda, 
Matsumoto, and Ozawa followed suit. The assistant handed them a box of 
unpowdered surgical gloves, from which each man took two pairs. They put 
both pairs on their hands before approaching the body. With favorable 
conditions, even one pair of the thin latex gloves could leave detectable 
fingerprints behind. A police photographer went in after them with a 
polaroid camera and a 35mm camera with a panoramic lens.
     "I'm going to need hair and fiber samples from each of you after 
you leave the scene," Tokaida called from behind the barrier. He was 
assembling a kit of glassine envelopes, sticky tape, forceps, and 
magnifying lenses. "I'll need the same with the cop who found the body, 
and anyone else who's had access before I arrived."
     "There was a dog on the scene as well," Matsumoto advised. "We don't 
know where it is right now."
     "Not a problem, I can distinguish dog hairs from other fibers in the 
field," Tokaida replied. "But thanks for the information."
     "See if you can find that dog anyway," Takeda told Matsumoto. "If we 
turn up other dog fibers than the one at the scene, we could put the body 
in a particular location."
     "Yes, sir."
     Takeda saw that the girl had been placed in a sitting upright position 
with her back against the wall. Trash from three overturned cans had been 
piled on her, and the place stank of stale coffee grounds and wet cigarette 
butts. Like the others, she was naked, and her face, throat, and torso were 
horribly disfigured. A small pool of blood and serum had collected around 
her where it had drained from her wounds. Some of it had wicked into the 
crumpled napkins of the trash, staining them a yellowish brown.
     Ito leaned over her, clasping her wrist with his gloved hand and going 
through the formality of checking for a pulse. He muttered something to his 
assistant, who wrote a time down on a notepad. He set the arm down the 
way he had found it, and stepped back for a police photographer to take 
several snapshots of the body and its surroundings with both cameras.
     "We took all of the area photos before you arrived," Matsumoto 
muttered. "We were just waiting for you to show up before we moved in for 
the subject photos."
     "You did good work, detective," Takeda replied. He continued to revise 
his opinion of the Nerima homicide detective and found that the man was 
getting better with practice. He only hoped that the detective wouldn't get 
any more before the case was resolved.
     Ito moved in again, gently lifting trash off the body with a 
collapsible steel rod. He pointed out the area around the girl's buttocks 
and thighs, which were colored a dull purple and looked like large blotchy 
bruises.
     "Livor mortis -blood pooling- in the anterior region and lower 
extremities; consistant with her position," he observed. The assistant 
wrote this down. 
     Ito probed through the puddle, which was sticky and viscous. 
     "Blood and serum are mostly congealed; color is dark red to brown. No 
observable blood spatters near the body. She's been sitting here for awhile, 
probably all night if the killer is following the same pattern."
     "He didn't do her here," Takeda observed.
     "I don't think so," Ito remarked. "With the extensive wound trauma to 
the head, even in an elevated position, there would be a great deal more 
blood present. These kinds of wounds, even if inflicted post-mortem, would 
cause noticible spattering. We'd see it all over the walls." 
     He knelt over the body and rubbed at the flesh.
     "Tissue is waxy and has a pronounced loss of suppleness. Rigor mortis 
is set into the joints." He sniffed the air, sorting the various fetid 
odors of trash and slaughter. "Faint traces of butyric acid and urea..." 
He turned to his assistant, who handed him a small round-dialed bi-metallic 
thermometer. The doctor pressed the sharp point of the thermometer's well 
probe several centimeters into the abdomen just to the right and below the 
navel.
     "We'll wait a few moments and let the core temperature reading 
stabilize for a confirmation," Ito told them. "My preliminary estimate for 
time of death is..." he checked his watch, which read 9:37 AM. "About 
11:00 PM last night, give or take an hour. Once we get her in the shop, 
I can start an invasion wave table for insect infestation and narrow it 
down conclusively to within ten minutes of the mark."
     "On first impressions, does this look like the work of our man, or a 
copycat?" Ozawa asked.
     Ito looked back to the body, whose eyes were wide open and staring 
blindly at the opposite brick wall. Her short dirty-blonde hair was matted 
with blood.
     "Other than the change in disposal location, I'd say it was the work 
of the same person," Ito replied. "I have trouble believing that there 
could be a second person in this ward capable of an act such as this, but 
even if it was the act of a copycat, there are details of the killing that 
haven't been available to the public. I don't see any flagrant changes 
in the killer's m.o. here to suggest the work of a second killer."
     Kogata stepped up with a pair of yellow tinted goggles and a small 
L-shaped lamp. Ito stepped back once more as Kogata's assistant readied 
another collapsing steel rod. Kogata switched on the lamp, which gave off 
very little visible light, and put the goggles on.
     "Fortunately we're out of direct sunlight in this alley," he remarked. 
"Otherwise I'd have to do this in the lab. I might miss something that way."
     He shined the lamp in a sweeping pattern from a meter above the girl's 
head to the middle of the alley. His assistant turned the trash over several 
times with the rod.
     "Nothing," he reported. "No traces of semen with the UV lamp. Not on 
the body, not in the trash. I'll try again in the morgue, but I don't think 
I'll get any different results." He turned to his assistant. "I'm going to 
need all of this trash bagged and tagged as evidence."
     Takeda grunted. He knew semen was luminous under ultraviolet light. 
That there wasn't any, as before with the other victims, seemed to rule out 
an ignorant copycat killer. 
     He withdrew from the scene. As far as the victim was concerned, it was 
Forensic Section's game now. All he could do was wait for their observations 
and conclusions.
     "I think it's the same person," he told Ozawa. "He's on to our attempts 
to catch him dumping a body in the canal and he's changed his tactics. We 
need to get the garbage collection suspended today. I want any off-duty 
cops we might have available making random searches of trash cans. Her 
clothes have to turn up somewhere."
     Matsumoto said that he would see to it.
     "I wonder what Dosaka will say about his change in method?" Ozawa 
remarked.
     "He'll probably say that the killer either needs to kill too badly to 
quit in the face of danger, or that he's getting his rocks off by playing 
games with us. Maybe a part of him wants to get caught, but he's fighting 
it. Maybe a little bit of all three."
     "Dosaka was right about one thing: his period's definitely getting 
shorter. It's only been a week since Ogata Yuka turned up dead. He's gonna 
do it again, and maybe even sooner than a week."
     "That could work to our advantage. If he gets too hasty he could screw 
up and get caught. End it quick."
     Takeda nodded as he started towards the coffee shop to talk to Officer 
Yanagimachi. "Goddamn. If it's Konatsu or Kurenai, I'll have Judge Maskawa 
strung up by his balls for letting them go..."
     Ozawa nodded. "That won't happen again, I swear."
     "What did happen? You told me you had your office working on that."
     "Both of them were under twenty-one, so some idiot assigned them to 
the Family Court -even in light of the felony assault charge for Konatsu. 
You know how those family court judges are, and Nerima's even more liberal 
than most of the circuits in Japan.
     "After that, our dear little okonomiyaki shop owner got the local 
merchants' association to put the squeeze on the Public Prosecutor, whose 
family owns a couple businesses downtown here, and he walked the docket 
right up to Maskawa's office. Maskawa took one look at the case and saw 
'Excessive Use of Police Force' all over it. You know how it goes, we've 
been taking shit from these liberal judges ever since the seventies."
     Ozawa shook his head. "He all but threw it out. After that, the Public 
Prosecutor saw the writing on the wall, and dropped the charges against 
Kurenai."
     Takeda swore under his breath. "So tell me how it's not going to happen 
again."
     "I was talking to the Commissioner most of last night about the case," 
Ozawa said. "I mentioned the trouble we had with Maskawa, and he went 
through the roof. He said he'd light a fire under someone's ass in the 
Public Safety office to get a District Court judge assigned full-time to 
our case. Anyone we put away for any reason goes to him -and whoever it is 
will know to sit on him for as long as possible if need be. I think our man 
is going to be Wakamatsu. I heard the Commissioner mention him a few times 
over the phone to someone."
     "Wakamatsu? Good. I know he's a hard ass. We need a hard ass right 
now."
     Takeda stepped into the coffee shop. Officer Yanagimachi was seated in 
a booth, drinking strong tea and staring at a faded calender on the far wall. 
He looked young. He was probably straight out of high school. Little older 
than the girl he'd discovered murdered this morning.
     The Inspector waved off one of Matsumoto's boys, who was keeping an 
eye on Yanagimachi, and sat down across from him.
     "You did good," Takeda grunted to him. "I don't think you could have 
handled it any better than you did."
     Yanagimachi tried to smile at the complement. His face bore the livid 
scars of severe acne. 
     "Thank you, sir," he managed.
     He took a deep breath, and let it out as a sob.
     "It shouldn't have happened," he moaned. "It was my watch. She died on 
my watch..."
     Takeda shook his head. "She died before you came on last night. There 
was nothing you could have done to stop it."
     "But I should have caught the killer when he got rid of her," 
Yanagimachi protested.
     Takeda took a drink of coffee from the cup set before him by Ozawa. 
"Don't let it get to you. This guy's a smart bastard, and he's careful. You 
had no idea that a murder had happened last night, so you had no reason to 
be looking for him."
     He took another drink of coffee. "What I want to know is if you noticed 
anything unusual last night. Besides the discovery of the body."
     Yanagimachi shook his head. "No, sir. It was a quiet night."
     "You're quite sure?" Ozawa asked.
     "Yes, sir," the koban officer replied. "This neighborhood is usually 
quiet, even with all these martial artists running around." He put his face 
in his hands. "The worst we usually get is a panty-thief or two. Maybe a 
disturbance of the peace... Not murder..."
     Takeda nodded. "Thank you for your help this morning. Not many young 
policemen in your position would have reacted as well as you did."
     He stood, and with a shocking display of affection, placed a hand on 
the young koban officer's shoulder. 
     "Go home. Try to get some sleep. Get drunk if you have to, but get 
some sleep. You can write your report and witness affidavit tomorrow."
     Yanagimachi nodded quickly, and waited for Takeda to leave before 
rising. 
     Takeda turned to Ozawa, allowing Yanagimachi his exit. "See if you 
can get me a file on Kurenai from Family Services. The same with Konatsu, 
Saotome, and Kuonji. I don't think we'll have any luck with Mousse, but 
give him a try too."
     "I can get you Saotome's later today," Ozawa replied. "It's in my 
office. It's mostly referrals for late school admissions, disciplinary 
problems, and to qualify for Saotome Genma's requests for food and 
housing assistance. I hope you've got a few hours to kill."
     Takeda finished his cup of coffee.
     "It might be worth it. In the meantime, I want one of Matsumoto's boys 
to go over to the Cat Cafe and find out where Mousse was last night. See if 
they can do the same at the half-way house where Kurenai stays. You and I 
are going to have a little talk with Kuonji."
     Ozawa agreed. They started for the door as a shrill police whistle 
sounded from outside. Takeda saw several uniformed police rush past the 
door towards the crime scene. 
     As they rushed outside to see what was the matter, they heard Matsumoto 
cursing profusely. They rounded the corner of the alley to see several 
koban officers and Matsumoto dragging a skinny boy to the ground as hands 
flailed for possession of a high quality 35mm camera.
     Matsumoto managed to wrest the camera from the boy's grasp, and was 
about to rip it open to expose the film when Takeda yelled for him to stop. 
The homicide detective paused for a moment, allowing Takeda to repeat his 
order.
     "That's evidence!" Takeda continued. The koban officers grabbed the 
boy and threw him up against the wall opposite where the body still sat. 
He was a teenager, very slight of frame, his skin was so pale as to be 
unhealthy, and he had the dark circles under his eyes that indicated both 
a poor diet and bad sleeping habits.
     Takeda had seen this type of slacker before. They liked to read manga, 
play computer games, and rot their minds with pornographic anime. Most of 
them grew out of it eventually. This one didn't look like the type to recant 
his slacker ways.
     "I'm sorry! It won't happen again!" Matsumoto apologized with a deep 
bow to Takeda. "One of the officers at the tape was distracted by a woman 
asking for directions, and this little worm snuck past the barrier. We 
caught him snapping photographs of the victim."
     Takeda stepped over to the boy, taking care to avoid further upsetting 
of the evidence. 
     "You have a name?" he said angrily. "One besides Piece Of Shit?"
     "Gos-Gosunkugi," the boy replied. He was trembling. "Gosunkugi Hikaru."
     Takeda looked as if hearing the very name was a foul experience. "You 
are now in serious trouble, Gosunkugi Hikaru. Extremely deep shit. Do you 
realize that you have compromised the scene of a murder investigation?"
     He didn't let Gosunkugi answer, instead he grabbed the boy's shirt 
collar and wrenched him up onto his tip toes.
     "Obstructing justice is only the start! Do you realize I can hold you 
indefinitely as a murder suspect?"
     "N-no," Gosunkugi cried. "I didn't kill anyone! I swear!"
     "That doesn't mean shit to me," Takeda replied coldly. He turned to 
Matsumoto. "Book him on obstruction charges and anything else you can make 
stick. He rots there. I do not want this little *fuck* walking out of there 
like Kurenai and Konatsu! The camera and any film on his person are to be 
seized as evidence. I want the film in the camera, and any other film he 
has, sent to the ward lab for *immediate* processing. I want the prints in 
my hands in one hour -is that clear?"
     Matsumoto acknowledged the order. Ozawa took the camera and the bag 
from Gosunkugi, who looked like he was about to start crying.
     "I just wanted to get a look," he whined. "I didn't mean to do anything 
wrong!"
     One of the koban officers led the nigh-hysterical Gosunkugi away. Ozawa 
opened the bag and looked at the contents. 
     "Small pair of binoculars; Zeiss brand, up to ten-power magnification."
     "Nice. Those aren't cheap," Takeda remarked.
     "Some lenses; Nikon, 35mm to 70mm zoom. A panoramic lens, also Nikon. 
Some filters, make unknown."
     "Quite a hobby," Takeda muttered.
     Ozawa pulled several small cylinders out the bag.
     "Two rolls of film; Fujicolor brand, 400 ASA, color, 24 exposures, 
already exposed. One roll of Kodak brand 1000 ASA, monochrome, 12 exposures, 
also exposed."
     "1000 ASA? What the hell do you need that for?" Takeda asked.
     Ozawa held up the roll. "It's a special low-light film. You can buy it 
in most stores that sell film, but if you want to get good results you have 
to know what you're doing." He held up the camera. "Nikon brand, very toney. 
Between the camera and the extras, I'd say the kid knew what he was doing."
     "If that was true," Takeda grunted. "He would have stayed on the other 
side of the barrier."



                              -Seventeen-



     The Ucchan was closed. A sign on the door apologized for any possible 
inconvenience this may have caused their valued patrons. It was all very 
polite. Takeda rapped sharply on the door nonetheless.
     No one answered. He knocked even louder.
     After several minutes the face of Ukyo Kuonji peeked out from behind 
a blind. The door opened slightly.
     "Can I help you, Inspector?" she asked meekly.
     "You can open the door and let the two of us in," Takeda growled. The 
fourth murder and Gosunkugi's interferance had done wonders for his mood.
     Ukyo sensed this and let the two of them inside.
     "Can I get you something to eat or drink?" she offered.
     "I'd prefer to keep this formal," Takeda replied in spite of the lack 
of breakfast.
     Ukyo retreated to the other side of the griddle.
     "Can I ask what this is about?"
     Takeda sat down opposite her.
     "Where is Konatsu?"
     "He's sick," she replied uneasily.
     "Is he in the hospital?"
     "No, he's in the back." She gestured behind herself with her thumb.
     "I'd like to speak to him."
     Ukyo's green eyes trembled. "I'll see if I can wake him."
     She left them and went into the back room. Takeda noted the dirty 
dishes in the sink and the heat that wafted up from the griddle. A ceramic 
cup of melted fat and a basting brush rested upon the dark metal of the 
griddle.
     Konatsu appeared. His head was wrapped ladylike in a towl. His kimono 
was threadbare and patched in spots. His eyes were downcast and he shuffled 
in with a slow gait. Ukyo followed up behind him.
     "Yes?" Konatsu asked. His soft voice was muffled by sinus congestion.
     "I'd like to congratulate you on your swift release," Takeda said 
evenly.
     "Ukyo-sama's doing," Konatsu demurred. "I don't deserve it."
     "You're damn right you don't deserve it," Takeda agreed. "You got out 
just in time to be a possible suspect in another murder. If you had stayed 
in jail another night you would have been free and clear."
     "Another one?" Ukyo cried.
     Konatsu remained silent.
     "You have anything to say about it?" Takeda asked.
     Konatsu shook his head.
     "Where were you last night?" Ozawa asked.
     "I was here," Konatsu said quietly.
     "All night?"
     Konatsu said nothing.
     "I asked you if you were here all night," Ozawa said sternly. "That 
question requires a yes or no answer."
     Konatsu's eyes drifted to Ukyo.
     "No."
     Ukyo gasped.
     "Where were you last night?" Takeda asked.
     "Out."
     Takeda leaned forward to tug at a frayed thread of Konatsu's kimono. 
"How about a more specific answer?"
     Konatsu closed his eyes. "I spent a lot of time around the neighborhood," 
he said slowly.
     "When did you leave?"
     "After Ukyo-sama went to bed."
     "When was that?"
     Konatsu shrugged. "About nine o'clock. She was very tired last night."
     Takeda cast a look to Ukyo to confirm this. She nodded silently, a 
look of shock and horror on her face.
     "So when did you return?"
     "About three in the morning." He coughed.
     Takeda jotted this down. 
     "And just what were you doing last night at such a late hour?"
     Konatsu cleared his throat before responding. His voice was less 
feminine now, as if he no longer cared if he wasn't acting like a proper 
lady. "The same thing I told you I was doing the night you arrested me."
     "I'd like you to tell me exactly what you were doing, for the record."
     Konatsu coughed once before answering.
     "I was looking for the killer."
     Takeda pursed his lips in thought.
     "What made you think he would be out last night?"
     "I don't know. Nothing really, I suppose. I just couldn't sit here and 
hide while he was doing this. I had to do something."
     Takeda nodded slowly. "So tell me, Konatsu, did you see anything 
unusual last night?"
     Konatsu coughed again, harshly and full of mucous. Ukyo handed him a 
cup of tea with a drizzle of lemon juice, which he gulped down. He coughed 
once more, then cleared his throat.
     "That's a nasty cough you have there," Ozawa pointed out. "When did 
that happen?"
     "This morning," Konatsu croaked. "I caught a cold last night."
     "This is the summer," Takeda said. "It wasn't *that* cold last night."
     "I fell in the canal," Konatsu said quietly. "I was moving too fast 
in the darkness and lost my balance. It was clumsy of me considering my 
upbringing."
     "As a kunoichi," Takeda observed. "A ninja. Those are nice skills to 
have, I imagine, if you wanted to move around without being noticed."
     "I didn't kill anyone," Konatsu protested. "I'm trying to *catch* the 
killer."
     "Let's get back to my last question," Takeda returned with a hollow 
smile. "Did you see anything unusual last night?"
     Konatsu thought about it.
     "There was this girl."
     Takeda's attention focused on him like a laser beam.
     "Go on."
     "I don't know who she was, but she was with Hibiki Ryouga. I think he 
was trying to take her somewhere."
     "You are absolutely certain she was with Hibiki Ryouga?"
     "Oh yes," Konatsu replied. "I've met him several times. His bandanna 
and umbrella are very distinctive."
     "About what time was this?"
     "Not long after I left last night," Konatsu answered. "Perhaps 9:30 PM?"
     "Where were they?"
     "A residential area just north of the shopping district."
     "What were they doing?"
     "Running down the streets. Hibiki looked lost. I'm told that it is a 
common state of being for him."
     "Describe the girl. What did she look like, what was she wearing, was 
she carrying anything, was she in some state of distress?"
     "About my age," Konatsu replied. "She had short hair, light colored, 
but it was too dark to tell the color specifically. She was wearing some 
sort of light colored minidress. It had a very short hemline, and she wore 
calf length white boots. She had a bouquet of roses with her, though they 
were looking a little worse for wear."
     "Was she in distress?"
     Konatsu shook his head. "If she was, I would have attacked Hibiki. You 
can be sure of that. No, she looked concerned, but not frightened. She was 
following him of her own free will, it looked like. I didn't pay it any more 
mind." 
     Takeda finished his notes.
     "Anything else?"
     Konatsu coughed. "She's dead, isn't she."
     "We don't know that," Takeda replied. "But you might be right." He 
made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "You can go back to sleep now, 
Konatsu. But before you do, I want you to think about what you've told me. 
If I find out that you've misled me, I'm going to make you pay for it. 
I've got a new judge working for me, and you won't skip out like you did 
yesterday. Is that clear?"
     "Yes, sir."
     Takeda gave him a brief nod, allowing him to leave. Ukyo noted that 
when Konatsu had stepped into the back room, Takeda and Ozawa remained.
     "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked.
     "I'd like to talk to you now, if I may."
     Ukyo swallowed hard. "If this is about Konatsu's release..."
     "No, it's not," Takeda replied. "You did nothing wrong. Legally at 
least. What I want to talk about is your past."
     Now Ukyo was nervous.
     "I've heard from several people that you had a rather interesting 
childhood," Takeda continued. "That for about ten years you decided to be 
a boy. You dressed like one, talked like one, acted like one. You even 
registered for school as one. Is this true?"
     Ukyo looked away from them. 
     "Every bit of it."
     "I'm also told that it had something to do with an engagement to 
Saotome Ranma. Is this true as well?"
     Ukyo closed her eyes.
     "Yes."
     "Have you ever talked to a counselor about this?"
     "No. Absolutely not."
     Takeda's eyes narrowed at her. "You seem very defensive about that."
     "You make it sound like I'm crazy or something," Ukyo protested. "I'm 
not crazy."
     "You don't consider renouncing your very gender for ten years to be 
unusual?"
     Ukyo's eyes flashed with frustration. "You don't understand what I went 
through," she said in an agitated voice. "When that jackass Saotome Genma 
ran away with the family yatai -my *dowry*- my life was ruined! I had 
nothing left to live for as a girl. All I had was revenge, and revenge was 
a *man's* perogative."
     "But now things are different," Takeda remarked.
     Ukyo shook her long mane of chestnut hair. "Yeah. Things are different. 
I know now that what happened wasn't Ranma's fault. I already pounded on 
that loser of a father, Genma, so my revenge was fulfilled. Ranma even said 
I was cute..."
     She looked dreamily towards the ceiling. "I could be a woman again 
after he said that... I could be his fiance� again. His cute fiance�, not 
like Akane. She doesn't deserve him the way she treats him."
     "So you still consider the engagement to be valid," Ozawa noted.
     "Damn skippy I do!" she cried. "Genma already took the dowry; it's a 
done deal. The only thing left is for Ran-chan to come to his senses about 
the whole thing, and see Akane for what she is."
     "And that is...?" Takeda said with a wave of his hand.
     Ukyo gave him a level-eyed look. "A violent, abusive, obsessive maniac 
who could just as soon spit on him as marry him."
     "Really?" Takeda asked, intrigued. Akane had seemed quite normal on the 
two occasions they had talked. Then again, Ranma was never really present at 
the time.
     "Believe it, honey," Ukyo said, then apologized for being too familiar 
with him. Takeda brushed it off.
     A heavy rapping on the door ended their conversation. Ukyo opened the 
blind to reveal the flushed face of Detective Matsumoto. Takeda told her 
to let him in.
     "Once I saw the prints from that kid's film, I rushed down here to 
deliver them personally," he wheezed as he stumbled through the door. 
     "What is it?" Takeda asked anxiously. "Let me see them."
     Ozawa told Ukyo to go into the back room. She did so with only slight 
hesistation. Takeda took the manilla envelope from Matsumoto and opened it.
     "The first bundle is from the film in the camera when we apprehended 
him," Matsumoto supplied. "After that there are the two rolls of color 
film, and last of all is the black and white film."
     "The low-light stuff," Ozawa remarked.
     "Yeah, and that's the big one," the Nerima detective puffed.
     Takeda flipped through the camera prints. Apparently Gosunkugi had 
managed to get five good shots of the murder victim before he was caught. 
The remaining color film prints were all outdoor shots. He recognized eight 
of the prints' locations immediately. The rest he extrapolated.
     They were shots of the three canal bridges where the bodies had been 
dumped, plus the locations where the first two bodies had been discovered. 
The remainder of the prints seemed to be the surroundings of these sites.
     The black and white low-light photos were the most damning.
     As he flipped through them, a sick feeling erupted in his stomach.
     They were shots of the Tendo Dojo, taken at night, from various 
places inside and outside the palisade. The last two shots were taken from 
the branches of a tree. The fact that the window they were centered upon 
was a second story window was obvious. The girl in the photos was naked, 
lounging in the furo, apparently unaware that her nudity was being captured 
on film.
     The girl was Akane Tendo.
     "Goddamn," Takeda swore. "We need a search and seizure warrant on this 
kid's house right fucking now."
     "I figured you'd say that," Matsumoto replied. "I've already got one 
going up before a judge. He should be giving us a ruling any time now. I've 
got one of my assistants waiting at the courthouse to hand it over to us as 
soon as the judge authorizes it."
     "There's no way he could be the killer," Ozawa protested. "He's forty 
kilos soaking wet and holding a brick. Not nearly the strength of our man."
     "True, but he could be scouting victims for our man. We have so little 
in the way of hard evidence pointing towards a suspect right now that we 
can't ignore this."



                          END OF PART FOUR