Kindlewood

Well, fuck.

Not that Shiemi would ever use such words, but for this particular situation they would have felt appropriate. Of course, “this particular situation” being one where people entered her laboratory, she didn’t say anything at all. Not with people in her laboratory.

“Hi! Sorry for coming a day early, but my colleague–”

“Chief Inspector Kamiki.”

Shiemi all but jumped in her seat when the tall one flashed her badge. Inspector Paku had sounded very kind over the phone when they had arranged a meeting; Chief Inspector Kamiki sounded like those frightening police inspectors in American films. But she looked nice. Very nice. A bit too nice.

Shiemi became very occupied with her test tube rack and turning all samples so their labels faced the same direction.

“We have a poisoning”, Kamiki continued without delay, slipping the badge back into the chest pocket of her smartly fitted uniform. “That’s about all we know at the moment. The coroner can’t determine what it was and neither can the lab, but they referred us to one Moriyama Shiemi who used to work there. Said she’s probably the only one who could get anything out of the samples. Where do we find her?”

Shiemi hunched lower still on her lab chair. The rack is immaculately arranged. She cast a desperate glance at the samples in the dry block heater: over a minute left until they’re done.

“Mm morimm shiemm…” she mumbled and became smaller still.

“Excuse me?” Chief Inspector Kamiki loomed over her with demanding eyes and eyebrows drawn tight above. No tweezers ever came near those eyebrows. They were wild, strong, and thorhoughly unapologetic about it. Much like the woman herself.

Shiemi’s heart made triple somersaults and just might attempt a twist if the Chief Inspector didn’t back down.

“Izumo, not the interrogation face.” The friendly Inspector reminded her colleague with a hand on her shoulder. “Hi: Inspector Paku Noriko.” She clasped her hands before her and bowed, and Shiemi’s heart somersaulted again because she had little panda earrings and she was so cute. “Could you repeat yourself, please?”

No. For a moment the only thing Shiemi could do was stare into the warm coffee brown eyes and melt.

“I-I’m… Moriyama Shiemi.”

Shiemi all but shrieked when the timer on the dry block heater beeped that it is done. As if she hadn’t embarrassed herself enough. Thank goodness for Inspector Paku; her eyes were warm and soothing when she admitted she does the exact same thing when her microwave oven goes off.

They had the samples with them, of an unknown substance isolated from the body. Normally Shiemi could have the analysis done in hours: current estimates ranged from a day to never, depending on how much she fumbled under the impatient eyes of the Chief Inspector.

Thank goodness for Inspector Paku. Not a minute into the analysis she asked her superior if she wouldn’t rather have a coffee from the dispenser in the hall. With the Chief Inspector gone, she smiled and sighed: Shiemi almost squirted the entire pipette of reagent into her test tube. Thank goodness for Inspector Paku, but whatever goddess made her really didn’t consider how hard it would be to work around her. Especially when her sighs were so… inspiring.

“Hard to concentrate with her around, right?” the Inspector smiled. “She doesn’t realise it – but she trusts me, so when I ask her if she wants ‘coffee’ she doesn’t argue.”

“Her presence is very… present.” Some days Shiemi wished dearly that she could sound like she had those degrees in chemistry, biology, toxicology, and pharmacology.

“It is”, the Inspector giggled sweetly. “It is. Many find her intimidating – but you know, sometimes that’s just the shape passion takes.” She decided it was more sociable to speak to Shiemi’s face than to the back of her head, and half sat half leaned against the table next to her work. “Izumo is very passionate about her job”, she continued, tugging absentmindedly at the sleeves of her uniform jacket to pull them down below her wrist. “Her mother went missing when she was very young, and everything since then – her grades, her club activities, her research – has been to become a police and uncover what happened to her. She’s actually a very empathetic, caring person”, she shot a playful look at her from the corner of her eye, “if you would believe that.”

Shiemi didn’t know what to believe. Or what to say. But the whirr of the ventilation system was very pressing all of a sudden, so something had to be said.

“Umm… why are you telling me personal things about your boss…?”

“It’s my leverage”, the Inspector said, and the playful look spread down to her lips. “To interrogate you on your personal history.”

If Shiemi hadn’t frozen on the spot she just might have dove in under the table.

“You have bachelors in chemistry and toxicology, and masters in biology and pharmacology; you worked top cases at the most renowned forensics unit in the province. Now you work out in the bush testing medical blood samples. How come?”

The Inspector had called Chief Kamiki intimidating…? When she was cute as a kitten but pinned you with questions like this?

“I-I didn’t do anything illegal – I didn’t get fired, I resigned from–” And there the marker pen for the test tubes went clattering on the floor…

“Really…” The Inspector giggled again, then deftly kneeled and scooped up the pen. “I’m just teasing you, you know? There’s no actual interrogation. I figured that, well – these tests take a while, and there’s nothing more awkward that two people in the same space being dead quiet.” Inspector Paku offered her the pen back, offered her a smile and the prettiest of brown eyes. “So why not chat a little while we’re here?”

Shiemi took it.

It went a little rickety, like wagon wheels over cobblestone – but, even rickety rides move forward. Shiemi told the Inspector about growing up in the family business greenhouse, about her cat Waffle who was an expert at catching socks, about painting watercolours and wanting to illustrate her own flower book. It was surprisingly easy to tell the Inspector things once she got used to it. She never really answered the question of why she quit her better paid, more stimulating job, however – even when the Inspector guided the conversation back to the topic.

“Why… do you want to know this?” she asked, guardedly.

They both jumped when the timer beeped and declared the test complete. The substance found in the body contained monomethylhydrazine and gyromitrin, from Gyromitra esculenta: a fungus so toxic even the vapors from it could be lethal in a space with insufficient ventilation.

Shiemi had barely even explained this before the Inspector had her job phone out, calling the Chief and telling her the testing was complete: with her other hand, she jotted the information down on a post-it note.

“Thank you, Moriyama: you’ve been a huge help”, she beamed and slid the note over to her. A phone number. A private phone number. “In case you want to join us for a coffee sometime.” She winked.

Shiemi blushed. They always notice. At her last job, too.

The Chief Inspector meets her colleague just past the door, and before it swings shut Shiemi sees her put her hand on the Inspector’s waist.

A smile touches her lips, finds it wants to stay, and glows. They always notice, but it’s the first time she gets a phone number in response.