The Whitechapel Case [abandoned]

Part 1: The Hypothesis (Chapter 5)

The Whitechapel Case
Fox-Trot-9

PG-13
Horror/Suspense/Mystery (How-Catch-'Em)
Disclaimer: I don't own Ghost Hunt or Death Note.

Part 1: The Hypothesis
Chapter 5

Day 1—Jacob Meiler apologized for Andrew Todd's actions and checked on Bert and Lin to see if they were seriously hurt. Bert told him he was fine; as for Lin—let's just say he wasn't the kind of person that would complain about most things, although he walked with his legs farther apart than usual for obvious reasons. Lin sat painfully on the office chair, while Bert and Noll offered to help organize the old man's office. Boxes were moved, files were sorted and placed in the proper filing cabinets, casebooks were stacked, only leaving the clippings the way they were on the walls. That done, Jacob thanked the men, telling them to split for the pad before it got too late. They acknowledged and went on their way.

The drive home was a silent one. It was only 6:40 in the evening, but anyone can tell they were tired. The trio took the same route they used coming into London's Chancery Square, turning on Shamus Drive and taking Langley into the Woodside Ward of Croydon, before stopping at Newberry Road where the old Davis House stood. They got out, rang the bell and were admitted into the house.

"You all look tired," said Martin. "Mind telling me what happened while you were out?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Bert. "Just another day at the office."

"Any good leads?"

"Not yet."

"What about that legal pad? You have that on you?"

"Ah, shoot! It's still at Jacob's."

"That's all right; he can bring it back tomorrow." Martin closed the door, then noticed Lin's awkward gait. "Lin, did you get yourself hurt?"

"I'm fine; I just... slipped and fell," he said.

"Watch your step, next time. Some of the sidewalks are still a bit slippery this time of year." Then he turned to Bert, saying, "Do you want to join us for dinner?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure; I'll join."

With that, the trio took their places at the table, while Martin and Luella were preparing dinner in the kitchen. Of course, Lin took a bit longer to bend down into his seat; Noll and Bert could see the discomfort on his face as he did so. Then, silence. At least, as much silence as you could afford when you're trying to hold your breath; Bert was trying to do just that—hold his laughter back with one breath. The detective practically sniggered with his mouth shut; even Noll had a kind of sick smirk on his face. In any investigation, it was always good to let in a little humor once in a while. It takes the edge off of a tense situation. That is, unless you're the object of all that laughter.

"It's not funny," said Lin.

Bert's grin grew by leaps and bounds, threatening to erupt into a heap of laughter. "I know it isn't, but it's... It's so f-f-freaking funny! I'm sorry, man!" he said, finally letting it all out. He was leaning over with his face contorted into a maniacal Jack Nicholson-kind of grimace.

"I said it's not funny! Do you have any idea how painful this is?"

"Nope, and I don't want to know," and he sniggered away.

Then Noll cut in. "Lin, I thought you knew how to handle yourself in a situation like that."

Lin fought the urge to kick both of them in the balls beneath the table. "Can we please move onto a different subject?"