My Idea Box

FANFICTION IDEA: A Cold Case (A Kamen Rider fanfic excerpt)

Disclaimer: I don't own Kamen Rider. That belongs to Toei.

-----

To Kaoru Ichijo, New York City largely resembled Tokyo. At least, on the surface. A large city, plenty of skyscrapers, crowds everywhere, and of course, crime. Being a detective, Ichijo saw the signs of gangs and robberies everywhere, like he would see in Japan. It seemed to be a common occurrence, no matter where he went.

Ichijo knew that was not why he was in New York. He arrived a couple days ago, at the request of the Tokyo superintendent, to work with the local police on a number of "mysterious murders." Said murders had little information to go on, but the tiny details burrowed in Ichijo's mind. It was all the more convenient when there was a murder, today no less.

"Mr. Ichijo, we're here," said the driver, a typical New York cop whose name evaded Ichijo.

"Thank you," Ichijo said in his heavily accented English. He then left the car and wrapped himself in his long coat.

The crime scene was not hard to miss, especially when it was in the middle of New York City's Time Square. A section had been cleared away by blaring sirens and flashing cars that surrounded the area. Men in thick blue coats and emergency uniforms went about to inspect whatever had been there and to keep civilians outside the yellow tape. From there came a shout.

"Mr. Ichijo!" called Jackson, Ichijo's liaison with the NYPD, waving from behind the yellow tape.

Waving back, Ichijo approached the officer and was let through the yellow tape. "Glad you could make it," Jackson said. "Things haven't been looking too good."

"What happened here?" Ichijo said whilst rubbing his hands to keep warm and glancing over the other cops.

"Another death, sixth this week. Cocoa?" answered the young African American, who held out his steaming cup. Ichijou rejected the kind offer, and Jackson took a sip. "Anyway, we've been looking into this for the past month. We haven't come up with any leads so far."

Something gnawed at the back of Ichijo's mind. He pushed it aside and said, "Maybe this investigation can shed some right on this?"

"Right?" Jackson blinked before realizing it. "Oh, you mean light! Yeah, that's what the chief is hoping!"

"Um, yes," Ichijo frowned at the "L's" of the English alphabet.

Just then, a rough voice shouted, "Jackson! Has that detective shown up yet?'

"He's here, chief! I'll bring him over!" Jackson called back, then whispered to Ichijo, "You should be careful. The chief isn't in the best of moods."

Ichijo nodded, and they both headed to the source of the bellow. Passing the ambulance truck, the cop cars, and their attendants, Ichijo found a Caucasian man in a cop uniform, and aged with experience, standing next to the victim's body. The biggest hint was the blood staining the sheet that covered it.

Coming up to the man, Jackson began the introductions. "Chief, this is the detective from Japan, Kaoru Ichijo."

The chief shook Ichijo's hand. The winter air made the burly man's breath become visible with every word. "Chief Thomas Brown. Thank you for coming at such short notice."

Ichijo tried not to wince under the strong grip and flexed his hand behind his back once it was freed. "Nice to meet you, Chief Brown. May I see the body?"

Brown gestured a "go ahead," and Ichijo knelt down and gently lifted the cover off the body. Under it was a face, female and Caucasian, left in a state of horror with the mouth hung open. The skin hung close to the bone, so much that she looked more like a mummy than a real person. On the side of her neck was an incision, still pouring small amounts of blood onto the road.