"How's your blog going?" the woman asked.
James faced his therapist.
"Yeah, good. Very good," the young man replied.
"You haven't written a word, have you?" replied Dr Pomfrey.
James liked the older lady but hated these therapy sessions. They were boring and didn't help his nightmares, which are not bad enough to see a therapist anyway.
"You just wrote "still has trust issues."
"And you read my writing upside down. You see what I mean? James, you're a soldier, and it's going to take you a while to adjust to civilian life and writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you."
"Nothing happens to me."
~~~~
"Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide," Sergeant Gilderoy Lockhart began to explain to the reports. "We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing, but Detective Inspector Lupin will take questions now."
"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?" one of the reporters wanted to know.
"Well, they all took the same poison. They were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown-" Remus began but was interrupted again by the reporter.
"- any prior indication."
The Detective Inspector ignored him and just kept talking.
"But you can't have serial suicides. Well, apparently you can."
"These three people, there's nothing that left them?"
"There's no link we've found yet, but we're looking for it- there has to be one."
At that moment everyone in the room got the same message from the same number.
'Wrong!'
"If you've all got texts, please ignore them," Lockhart said.
"It just says "wrong".
"Well, just ignore that. If there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lupin, I'm going to bring this session to an end."
"If they're suicides, what are you investigating?"
"As I say, these suicides are clearly linked. It's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating," Remus tried to reassure the reporters.
And again, everyone got the message.
"Says wrong again."
Damn it, Black, thought Remus. Instinctively he wanted to ruffle his hair but pulled himself together.
"One more question. Is there any chance that these are murders? And if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"
"I know that you like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The poison was clearly self-administered."
"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?"
"Well, don't commit suicide," Remus said, suppressing an eye roll.
"DailyMail," Lockhart whispered so only Remus could hear.
The detective inspector sat up a little further.
"Obviously, this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."
'Wrong!'
While the others got the same message a third time, Remus had a new message.
'You know where to find me. R.A.B'
"Thank you."
That ended the press conference.
Remus and Gilderoy got up and left the room.
"You've got to stop him doing that. He's making us look like idiots," Gilderoy told Remus once they were in the hallway.
"If you can tell me how he does it, I'll stop him," Remus replied.
Unfortunately, Remus had to admit that Gilderoy was right. He couldn't let anyone undermine the authority of the police.
The young man went outside to have a smoke.
He lit a cigarette before calling a certain number.
"Sirius, babe, you need to get your brother under control."
~~~~
After the therapy session, James decided to walk through the small park that was on his way home.
And this even though he has had to use a walking stick since he was connected to the field.
He passed a bench and ignored the man sitting on it, but the other noticed and recognized James.
"James! James Potter!"
James stopped and turned around. The other man came towards him, he had fair hair and was rounder than James.
The black-haired man knew him from somewhere but could not think of where from.
"Pettigrew, Peter Pettigrew. We were at Barts together."
"Yes, sorry, yes, Peter, hello."
"Yeah, I know, I got fat," Peter said and didn't blame James for not recognizing him.
Peter had changed a lot since school.
"No, no."
"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?"
"I got shot."
Peter didn't know what to say to that and instead suggested getting a coffee.
"Are you still at Barts, then?" James asked after they sat down on a bench again.
"Teaching now, yeah. Bright young things like we used to be," Peter replied. "God, I hate them. What about you? Just staying in town till you get yourself sorted?"
"I can't afford London on an Army pension."
"You couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the James Potter I know."
"Yeah, I'm not the James Potter..."
"Couldn't Harry help?" Peter asked.
He'd always liked James' sister, but he also understood their complicated relationship, which the death of their parents and James' time in the armee hadn't helped.
"Yeah, like that's going to happen."
"I don't know, get a flatshare or something?" Peter suggested.
"Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?" James replied.
Peter had to laugh.
"What?" the black-haired young man wanted to know and looked questioningly at Peter.
"You're the second person to say that to me today," reported Peter.
Could that be a coincidence? James wonders.
Today he had decided to take a detour and saw Peter for the first time in years, who knew someone else who was looking for a roommate.
James didn't know if that was a clever idea, but he still asked the first question that would change his life forever.
"Who was the first?"
~~~~
Regulus Arcturus Black opened the body bag and looked at the body inside.
"How fresh?"
"Just in. 67, natural causes," Pandora replied. "Used to work here. I knew him, he was nice."
"Fine. We'll start with the riding crop."
"I hope it's worth it for you. I had to cancel my lunch with Lily."
"Give her flowers."
With said riding crop, Regulus struck the corpse. It almost looked like he was venting all his frustration.
"Hey, idiot, do you want coffee?" Pandora wanted to know.
Regulus nodded and put the riding crop away.
"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs."
Regulus went to the door and opened it. The young man was about to leave the room when he turned around again.
"I need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."
"Didn't you forget something?"
"Please," Regulus added before closing the door behind him.
~~~~
A few minutes later Regulus stood in a small laboratory and pipetted something into a petri dish.
A knock on the door interrupted him. Peter Pettigrew entered the lab, followed by a second young man with messy black hair and glasses.
Regulus only had to take one look at the young man to be able to say something about him.
"Bit different from my day," James said as he looked around.
Although it had only been a few years since he was last here, it was clear that the labs had been modernized in recent years.
"You've no idea!" said Peter.
"Peter, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine," Regulus asked.
This got James looking at Peter's acquaintance who was also looking for a roommate.
He didn't look in his and Peter's direction and his chin-length hair fell in his face.
"And what's wrong with the landline?" asked Peter.
"I prefer to text," Regulus explained.
"Sorry, it's in my coat."
"Er, here… use mine," James offered.
"Oh, thank you."
James took the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Regulus. As the other young man stood directly in front of him, James recognized his stormy blue eyes.
He was stunned by the attractiveness of the other man, who was maybe a year or two younger than James.
Regulus also noticed James' fawn eyes and couldn't help but ascribe a certain attractiveness to them and the guy in general.
"This is an old friend of mine, James Potter," Peter pulled them both out of their thoughts.
"Interesting," Regulus murmured while typing on the phone.
"Afghanistan or Iraq?" he asked James.
The black-haired young man looked at Peter, who just gave him a knowing grin.
"Sorry?"
"Which was it, in Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Afghanistan," James replied. "Sorry, how did you...?"
"Ah, Pandora, coffee, thank you."
Regulus handed James his phone back and took the mug from his best (and only) friend.
"Don't get used to it," she said and left the lab again.
Regulus took a sip of his coffee.
"How do you feel about the violin?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
James felt like he was repeating himself all the time. But that wasn't his fault, the guy just didn't make sense.
"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."
"You told him about me?" James asked Peter, who had been watching everything in silence until now.
"Not a word."
"Who said anything about flatmates?" James asked sceptically.
"I did. Told Peter this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap", explained Regulus.
As he spoke, he put on his coat and shawl.
"How did you know about Afghanistan?"
"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortal."
"Is that it?" James asked.
Regulus, who had already passed him, stopped, and turned in his direction.
"Is that what?"
"We've only just met, and we're going to go and look at a flat?"
"Problem?"
"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name."
"I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?"
Regulus turned away and walked to the door and opened it before looking back at James.
"The name's Regulus Black, and the address is 221B Baker Street," he said, winking.
"Afternoon."
James looked after the other young man, puzzled.
Then he looked at Peter.
"He's always like that."
Peter still had that little smile on his face. He knew very well that he had made a good decision.
~~~~
The next day, James showed up punctually at the agreed address.
He stood at the front door and used the door knocker.
At the same moment Regulus got out of a taxi and walked towards him.
"Hello."
"Ah, Mr Black."
"Regulus, please."
"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive," said James.
"Mrs McGonagall, the landlady- she's given me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."
"You stopped her husband being executed?"
"Oh, no, I made sure of it," Regulus explained.
At the same moment, an elderly lady opened the door.
"Regulus!" she greeted the young man and hugged him.
"Mrs McGonagall, Dr James Potter."
"Hello. Come in."
"Thank you."
"Shall we...?"
James followed Regulus up the stairs into the living area with adjoining kitchen.
"Well, this could be very nice," James said.
"Very nice indeed."
"Yes."
"Yes, I think so, my thoughts precisely."
And it was a nice room if it weren't for the clutter. Papers, files and other stuff were lying around everywhere.
"So I went straight ahead and moved in."
"Soon as we get this rubbish cleaned up."
"Oh," James said. "So this is-"
"Well, obviously I can straighten things up a bit," Regulus said, beginning to put some things away.
He placed some notes on the mantelpiece and pinned them there with a pocketknife.
"That's a skull," James said suddenly, pointing at the skull with his cane.
"Friend of mine," Regulus replied. "When I say friend..."
"What do you think, then, Dr Potter? There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms."
"We'll be needing two," James explained.
"Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts round here. Mrs Turner next door's got married ones," Mrs McGonagall chatted away.
She went into the kitchen, where everything was also lying around.
"Oh… Regulus! The mess you've made."
James sat down in one of the two armchairs.
He watched for a moment as Regulus placed his laptop on a desk and turned it on.
"I looked you up on the internet last night," James said.
"Anything interesting?" Regulus wanted to know.
"Found your website. The Science Of Deduction."
"What did you think?" Regulus asked with a small grin.
James cocked his head and Regulus' grin disappeared.
"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?"
"Yes. And I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone."
"How?"
As James asked his question, Mrs McGonagall re-entered the living room.
"What about these suicides, then, Regulus? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."
"Four," Regulus corrected the older lady.
How did he know that? At that moment, a police car was parked in front of the house and one of the police officers walked towards the house.
"There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."
"A fourth?"
"Where?" Regulus demanded as soon as Remus stepped through the living room door.
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens."
"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to me if there wasn't something different."
"You know how they never leave notes? This one did," Remus reported.
James noticed Regulus straighten more for a moment. The news seemed to have piqued his interest, but he said nothing.
"Will you come?" Remus asked.
"Who's on forensics?" Regulus asked.
"Snape."
"Snape doesn't work well with me," Regulus grimaced.
"Well, he won't be your assistant," Remus reminded the other young man.
"I need an assistant."
"Will you come?", the detective wanted to know again.
"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind."
"Thank you," Remus said and set off again.
As soon as Remus was gone, Regulus literally jumped into the air.
"Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs McGonagall, I'll be late. Might need some food," Regulus said happily and immediately grabbed his coat.
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper."
"Something cold will do. James, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home."
James felt that strange shiver run down his spine when Regulus said his name.
He really shouldn't have been attracted to it, but he was.
"Don't wait up!"
"Look at him, dashing about... My husband was just the same," said Mrs McGonagall as she was about to make a cup of tea after James.
James grabbed Today's newspaper that was lying on a small table next to the armchair.
"You're a doctor," James heard a voice at the door.
The young man looked up. Regulus gave him an interested look and James put the paper down.
"In fact, you're an Army doctor."
"Yes," James confirmed, struggling to get up.
"Any good?"
"Very good."
"Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths."
Regulus slowly stepped towards James until he was directly in front of him. The other young man was leaning on his cane, but he was still a tiny bit taller than Regulus.
"Well yes."
"Bit of trouble too, I bet?"
"Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much."
"Want to see some more?"
"Oh, God, yes," James replied without hesitation.
Regulus' mouth twitched up and he and James looked at each other for a moment. Reluctantly he looked away and together they went down the stairs.
"Sorry, Mrs McGonagall, I'll skip the tea. Off out," James called.
"Both of you?"
"Impossible suicides? Four of them? No point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!"
Regulus approached the older lady and kissed her on the cheek.
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent," said Mrs McGonagall in an amused tone.
"Who cares about decent?" Regulus asked, opening the front door. "The game, Mrs. McGonagall, is on!"
Regulus called for a cab and he and James drove off.
~~~~
James and Regulus drove across town.
The older of the two looked out the window. He didn't know the area and wondered where they were going.
To be honest, that wasn't his only question. The young man also wondered why he had come along.
His eyes fell on Regulus, who sat beside him and checked his phone. He had asked James if he wanted to come along and the Doctor immediately said yes.
James continued to look at Regulus, knowing the other was intelligent, highly intelligent in fact.
Perhaps that was why he had followed him, or because he had previously had a weakness for the dark, mysterious types.
"OK, you've got questions…" Regulus, who had noticed James's staring, broke the silence.
"Yeah, where are we going?"
"Crime scene. Next?"
"Who are you? What do you do?" James finally wanted to know.
"What do you think?"
"I'd say... private detective," James guessed.
"But...?"
"But the police don't go to private detectives."
"I'm a consulting detective," Regulus explained. "Only one in the world. I invented the job."
"What does that mean?"
"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."
"The police don't consult amateurs."
He? An amateur? Regulus raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly.
"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I didn't know, I saw," Regulus replied. "The way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation… 'Bit different from my day.'… said trained at Barts- so Army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned… but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan- Afghanistan or Iraq."
"You said I had a therapist."
"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist. Then there's your brother. Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. You're looking for a flatshare. You wouldn't buy this - it's a gift. Scratches. Not one, many over time- it's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. You wouldn't treat your one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already."
"The engraving?"
"Harry Watson. Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, not one you're close to. So brother it is. Now, who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently, the model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble, then- six months on he's given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. Sentiment. No, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you, so he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but not going to your brother for help. That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife or don't like his drinking."
James was now staring at Regulus with his mouth open. Regulus' mouth twitched up- he loved it when others had that reaction.
"How can you possibly know about the drinking?"
"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection- tiny little scuff marks round the edge. Every night he plugs it in to charge, but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them. There you go, you were right."
"I was right? Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs," Regulus said, looking out the window again.
"That… was amazing," James admitted.
While he didn't like that it was so easy to read, he somehow didn't mind if Regulus did.
The other young man looked at James in surprise. Nobody had ever said that to him before.
"Do you think so?" he asked and James heard a bit of uncertainty in his voice.
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary, quite extraordinary."
"That's not what people normally say."
"What do people normally say?"
"Piss off!" Regulus quoted many people he had spoken to in his life.
He looked back at James and they both couldn't help but smile.
~~~~
"Did I get anything wrong?" Regulus asked once they got out of the cab.
"Harry and me have a different realitionship. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker."
"Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything."
Not everything, James thought: "Harry's short for Harriet."
"Harry's your sister," Regulus realized.
"What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?"
"Sisters!"
"No, seriously, what am I doing here?"
"There's always something."
James and Regulus stepped closer to the crime scene tape where Gilderoy Lockhart was standing.
"Hello freak!"
"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lupin."
"Why?"
"I was invited."
"Why?"
"I think he wants me to take a look."
"You know what I think, don't you?"
"Always, Gilderoy," Regulus replied.
He lifted the crime scene tape over his head and stepped under it. Standing closer to Gilderoy, he noticed the strong smell of a certain deodorant.
"I even know you didn't make it home last night."
"Er... who's this?" Gilderoy asked, changing the subject.
"Colleague of mine, Dr Potter. Dr Potter, Sergeant Gilderoy Lockhart."
"A colleague? How do you get a colleague? Did he follow you home?"
"Would it be better if I just waited...?" James asked, feeling uncomfortable with the situation.
"No," Regulus interrupted him.
He raised the tape again to let James through.
"Freak's here. Bringing him in," Gilderoy informed the others over the radio.
James and Regulus followed him to the entrance. They were about to enter when several people left the house.
"Ah, Snape. Here we are again."
Snape gave Regulus an annoyed look and stood by him.
James didn't know the man, but he could tell he didn't like Snape.
"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?"
"Quite clear," Regulus replied. "And is your husband away for a long time?"
"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that."
"Your deodorant told me that."
"My deodorant?"
"It's imported."
"Well, yes- I'm wearing it all the time."
"So's Sergeant Lockhart, now. Ooh... I think it just vaporised. May I go in?"
Snape glanced at Lockhart before looking back at Regulus.
"Whatever you're trying to imply…"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Gilderoy came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over. And I assume he scrubbed your floors, going by the state of his knees."
In the stairwell they met Lupin. The brown-haired young man had expected Regulus, but not that he brought anyone with him.
"Who's this?"
"He's with me."
"But who is he?"
"I said he's with me."
Remus left it at that, they didn't have time for an interrogation.
"I can give you two minutes," the detective inspector explained as they walked up the stairs.
"May need longer."
"Her name's Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her," Remus added.
Remus led them to a room where Jennifer Wilson had been found.
She was still lying on the floor in her bright pink coat.
The three men stopped at the door and first looked at the room and the corpse.
"Shut up," Regulus said to Remus.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking. It's annoying."
Regulus stepped closer to the victim.
The message she left was right on her left hand, so she was left-handed.
'Rache' German (n.) revenge
No, that's not it.
Rachel, yes.
The coat was still wet. She must have been walking in the rain not too long ago.
The jewellery had been cleaned regularly, except for her wedding ring. Its outside was dirty and the inside clean - it must have been cleaned regularly.
That meant she was unhappily married, estimated at over 10 years.
Regulus was satisfied with what he had found and straightened up.
"Got anything?" Remus inquired.
"Not much."
"She's German," Snape piped up, standing in the doorway. "Rache. It's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us-"
"Yes, thank you for your input," Regulus said, locking the door in his face while he pulled out his phone.
"So she's German?"
"Of course she's not. She's from out of town, though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff - so far, so obvious."
"Sorry, obvious?" James offered.
"What about the message, though?"
"Dr Potter, what do you think?"
"Of the message?" James asked confused.
"Of the body. You're a medical man."
"We have a whole team outside," Remus pointed out.
"They won't work with me."
"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here…"
"Yes, because you need me. And I know someone who would be very mad at you."
"God help me."
Remus sighed before telling the others to stay outside. James and Regulus crouched by the body.
"Well?"
"What am I doing here?" James asked again.
"Helping me make a point."
"I'm supposed to help you pay the rent."
"This is more fun."
"Fun? There's a woman lying dead."
"Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you'd go deeper."
"Yeah… Asphyxiation… probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure. Possibly drugs."
"You know what it was, you've read the papers."
"Well, she's one of the suicides. The fourth...?"
"Regulus, two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got," Remus re-entered the room.
"Victim is in her late 30s. Professional person, going by her clothes. I'm guessing the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night from the size of her suitcase," Regulus began, standing up.
"Suitcase?"
"Yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married."
"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up…"
"Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside is shinier than the outside, so it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work, look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what or who does she remove her rings for? Not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that long, so more likely a string of them. Simple."
"That's brilliant," James murmured.
Remus and Regulus looked at him and he apologized.
"Cardiff?" Remus asked.
"It's obvious, isn't it?"
"It's not obvious to me," James said.
"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring", commented Regulus. "Her coat - it's slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours - no rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her pocket, but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind - too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours, because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff."
"That's fantastic."
"Do you know you do that out loud?" Regulus asked James quietly.
"Sorry, I'll shut up," James assured, embarrassed.
"No, it's… fine," Regulus said with a small smile on his face.
"Why do you keep saying suitcase?"
"Yes, where is it?" Regulus wanted to know and looked around. "She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is."
"She was writing Rachel?"
"No, she was leaving an angry note in German! Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. But why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"
"How do you know she had a suitcase?"
"Tiny splash marks on her right heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious- could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying one night. Where is it? What have you done with it?"
"There wasn't a case," Remus explained.
"Say that again."
"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase."
Regulus ran into the stairwell.
"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?"
"Sir, there was no case!"
"But they take the poison themselves, they swallow the pills. There are clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them", Regulus said and continued down the stairs.
"Right, thanks. And...?"
"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how. But they're not suicides, they're serial killings. We've got a serial killer. Love those. There's always something to look forward to."
"Why are you saying that?"
"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case. So the killer must have driven here. Forgot the case was in the car.
"She could have checked into a hotel, left it there," James suggested.
"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking… Oh… Oh!"
"Regulus? What is it, what?"
"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake."
"We can't just wait!"
"Oh, we're done waiting. Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!"
"Of course, yeah - but what mistake?!"
"Pink!"
With that, Regulus was gone and, feeling quite out of place, James decided to leave as well.
Outside he looked around, maybe Regulus was still there after all.
"He's gone," Gilderoy addressed him.
"Who Regulus?"
"Yeah, he just took off. He does that."
"Is he coming back?"
"Didn't look like it."
"Right. Right... Yes. Sorry, where am I?" James wanted to know.
"Brixton."
"Do you know where I could get a cab? It's just, er... well... my leg."
"Er… try the main road," Gilderoy replied.
He raised the crime scene tape and James left the crime scene.
"Thanks."
"But you're not his friend. He doesn't have friends. So who are you?"
"I'm... I'm nobody. I just met him."
"OK, bit of advice, then. Stay away from that guy."
"Why?" James wanted to know.
He was that Lockhart giving him advice after he hadn't asked?
"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. And you know what...? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body, and Regulus Black will be the one that put it there."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because he's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored."
Lupin stepped out of the house and called for Lockhart and that was the end of James and Gilderoy's conversation.
"Stay away from Regulus Black," he advised James again before heading inside.
~~~~
He didn't know exactly how, but half an hour later James found himself in a car going somewhere because someone wanted to speak to him.
And this someone was even able to manipulate surveillance cameras.
The journey ended in a huge warehouse.
James got out. A few meters in front of him was a man in a suit and a chair in front of him. The man was holding an umbrella and his black hair was tied in a ponytail.
"Have a seat, James."
"You know, I've got a phone. I mean, very clever and all that, but, er… you could just phone me. On my phone."
"When one is avoiding the attention of Regulus Black, one learns to be discreet, hence this place. Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down."
"I don't want to sit down," James said.
"You don't seem very afraid," said the man.
"You don't seem very frightening."
"Yes... The bravery of the soldier. What is your connection to Regulus Black?"
"I don't have one," James replied. "I barely know him. I met him… yesterday."
"Mmm, and since yesterday, you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"
"Well, if you know then- Who are you?"
"An interested party."
"Interested in Regulus? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends."
"You've met him. How many friends do you imagine he has?"
"I am the closest thing to a friend that Regulus Black is capable of having," the man explained.
"And what's that?"
"An enemy."
"An enemy?" James repeated in disbelief.
"In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic."
"Well, thank God you're above all that," James commented.
A moment later, James' cell phone beeped.
'Baker Street. Come at once if convenient -RAB'
"I hope I'm not distracting you."
"Not distracting me at all."
"Do you plan to continue your association with Regulus Black?"
"I could be wrong..." James began. "but I think that's none of your business."
"It could be."
"It really couldn't."
"If you do move into, um... 221B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way."
"Why?"
"Because you're not a wealthy man."
"In exchange for what?" James asked.
"Information," the man explained. "Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel… uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he's up to."
"Why?" James repeated.
"I worry about him. Constantly."
"That's nice of you."
"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. We have what you might call a… difficult relationship."
James got a second message.
'If inconvenient, come anyway.'
"No," James said simply.
"But I haven't mentioned a figure."
"Don't bother."
"You're very loyal very quickly."
"Sometimes- but anyway I'm not interested."
""Trust issues", it says. Could it be that you've decided to trust Regulus Black of all people?"
"Are we done?"
"You tell me."
The conversation was over for James, he turned around and walked towards the car.
"I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from him, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."
"My what?" James asked, turning back to the unknown man.
"You know, most people blunder round this city and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Regulus Black, you see the battlefield. You've seen it already, haven't you?"
"What's wrong with my hand?"
"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service."
"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?"
"Fire her," advised the man. "She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now, and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr Potter… You miss it. Welcome back."
~~~~
When James got home, Regulus was lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling.
"What are you doing?" James wanted to know.
"Nicotine patch. Helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."
"It's good news for breathing."
"Oh, breathing! Breathing's boring."
James noticed Regulus's sleeve being pulled up and that it wasn't just a nicotine patch on his arm.
"Is that… three patches?"
"It's a three-patch problem," Regulus explained, closing his eyes.
"You asked me to come, I'm assuming it's important."
"Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"
"My phone?"
"Always a chance that my number will be recognized. It's on the website."
"Mrs. Hudson's got a phone."
"She's downstairs. I shouted, but she didn't hear."
"I was the other side of London," James pointed out.
"There was no hurry."
"You're lucky you are cute," James murmured, handing his cell phone to the other young man.
"So what's this about - the case?"
"Her case…" James repeated quietly.
"Her case?"
"Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake."
"OK, he took her case. So?"
"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it," Regulus muttered to himself before turning back to James.
"On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."
"You've brought me here... to send a text."
"Text, yes. The number on my desk."
Regulus held out his arm to James. Annoyed, the young man took his cell phone back.
When had he become Regulus' servant? James wondered, glancing out the window.
He wanted to check if the car that had brought him here was really gone.
"What's wrong?" Regulus asked.
"Just met a friend of yours."
"A friend?" Regulus asked confused.
"An enemy," James corrected himself.
"Oh. Which one?"
James gave Regulus an irritated look. This didn't seem to bother Regulus in the least.
"Well, your arch-enemy, according to him. Do people have arch-enemies?"
"Did he offer you money to spy on me?"
"Yes."
"Did you take it?"
"No."
"Pity, we could have split the fee. Think it through next time."
Ok… now James was wondering if he had completely misjudged the situation.
He really thought he was doing Regulus a favour by not accepting the offer.
But he didn't see the small smile on Regulus' lips. There was almost no one who would turn down this offer and Regulus knew James could really use the money.
"Who is he?"
"The most dangerous and annoying man you've ever met and not my problem right now. On my desk, the number!"
The number James was supposed to text was Jennifer Wilson and the message read:
'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come.'
While James sent the message, Regulus placed a suspiciously pink suitcase on a chair and sat in the armchair in front of it.
"That's... That's the pink lady's case, that's Jennifer Wilson's case."
"Yes, obviously," James said. "Oh, perhaps I should mention- I didn't kill her."
"I never said you did."
"Why not? Given that text and the fact I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."
"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" James asked.
"Now and then, yes."
"I certainly don't think you could kill anyone," James said, and meant it.
"Then you would be the only one."
"How did you get this?"
"By looking," Regulus explained.
"Where?"
"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in a car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention- particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it. Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every backstreet wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an hour to find the right skip."
"Pink. You got all that because you realised the case would be pink?"
"It had to be pink, obviously."
"Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're an idiot," Regulus answers James' question.
James looked indignantly from the trunk to Regulus.
"No, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is. Now, look. Do you see what's missing?"
"From the case? How could I?"
"Her phone. Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case. We know she had one. You just texted it."
"Maybe she left it at home," James suggested.
"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home."
"Er… Why did I just send that text?"
"Well, the question is where is her phone now?"
"She could have lost it."
"Yes, right?"
James thought for a moment.
"The murderer... You think the murderer has the phone?"
"Maybe she… left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone."
"Sorry... what are we doing? Did I just text a murderer? What good will that do?" James wanted to know, irritated.
As soon as James finished speaking, his cell phone rang and a withheld number called.
"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone, they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer… would panic."
Regulus got up and grabbed his jacket.
"Have you talked to the police?" James asked.
"Four people are dead, there isn't time."
"So why are you talking to me?"
"Mrs McGonagall took my skull."
"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"
"Relax, you're doing fine."
For Regulus, that was a huge compliment, and James felt his heart skip a beat.
"And now you want me to come with you?"
"I like company when I go out and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so… problem?"
"Yeah, Sergeant Lockhart."
"What about him?" Regulus asked, not really wanting to know.
"He said, you enjoy it."
"And I said "dangerous", and here you are," Regulus replied simply and left the living room.
"Damn it!" James hissed and followed him.
~~~~
They ended up in a small restaurant and since they were allowed to choose their table, Regulus sat by the window overlooking the street.
"22 Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."
"He's not just going to ring the doorbell. He'd need to be mad."
"He has killed four people."
"Regulus."
A man joined them at the table.
"Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your date."
"Do you want to eat?" Regulus asked James, but James didn't have time to answer.
"This man got me off a murder charge."
"This is Barty. Three years ago, I proved to Lestrade, at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder, that Angelo was in a different part of town, house-breaking."
"He cleared my name."
"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?"
"Nothing. But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."
"You did go to prison."
"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic."
Barty went to get a candle, leaving James and Regulus alone.
"You may eat as well. We might have a long wait."
"People don't have arch-enemies," James said sometime later.
He had ordered something to eat while Regulus stared out the window.
"I'm sorry?"
"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen."
"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull."
"So who did I meet?"
"What do real people have, then, in their..."real lives"?"
"Friends? People they know, people they like, people they don't like... Girlfriends, boyfriends."
"Yes, well, as I was saying, dull."
"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" James asked.
"Girlfriend? No, not really my area."
"So you've got a boyfriend, then?"
"No, not in the moment."
Regulus gaze darted off the road to James for the first time.
And while the candle didn't really make a difference, it was all very romantic.
"Are you in a relationship right now?" Regulus asked, trying to sound indifferent.
"No, not in the moment."
"Look across the street. Taxi. It's stopped. Nobody getting in and nobody getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"
"That's him."
"Don't stare."
"You're staring."
"We can't both stare," Regulus murmured and left the restaurant.
James followed without hesitation.
~~~~
"That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing... I've ever done," James said as he and Regulus stumbled through the front door.
They had followed the taxi, but that had been a dead end.
"And you invaded Afghanistan."
James and Regulus had to giggle.
"That wasn't just me. Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"
"They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway."
"So what were we doing there?" James asked.
"Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point."
"What point?"
"You. Mrs McGonagall! James will take the room upstairs."
"Says who?"
"Says the man at the door."
As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
It was Barty. He brought his cane to James, who had left it there.
James thanked him and closed the door again as Mrs McGonagall stepped into the hallway with a very worried look on her face.
"Regulus, what have you done?"
"What?"
"Upstairs."
James and Regulus exchanged a look before heading up the stairs.
In their living room, they found Detective Inspector Remus Lupin sitting in one of the armchairs with a couple of police officers searching the room.
"What are you doing?" Regulus wanted to know.
"I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid."
"You can't just break into my flat."
You can't withhold evidence- and I didn't break in."
"What do you call this, then?"
"It's a drug bust."
"Seriously? This guy- a junkie? Have you met him?" James said.
"James…"
"You could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational."
"James, you probably want to shut up now," Regulus murmured, looking James straight in the eyes.
"But come on... No..."
"What?"
"you?"
Regulus hated the disappointment that showed on James' face. The others might not see it, but it was clear to Regulus.
He wanted to tell James he'd been clean for a while, but instead-
"Shut up!"
Then he turned back to Remus.
"I'm not your sniffer dog."
"No, Snape's my sniffer dog."
"What Sna-"
The sliding door to the kitchen slid open a little further and Snape greeted them with a small wave of his hand.
"Snape, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"
"Oh, I volunteered."
"They all did," Remus explained. "They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen."
"Are these human eyes?" asked Lockhart, who had appeared with a glass of eyes in view.
"Put those back!" Regulus hissed.
"They were in the microwave."
"It's an experiment."
"Keep looking, guys. Or you could help us properly, and I'll stand them down."
"This is childish."
"Well, I'm dealing with a child."
And all because of Sirius, he added mentally.
"Regulus, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"
"So you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"
"It stops being pretend if we find anything."
"I am clean!" Regulus said clearly.
"Is your flat? All of it?"
"I don't even smoke."
Regulus showed Remus his nicotine patch.
Remus sighed.
"We've found Rachel."
"Who is she?"
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."
"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"
"Never mind that, we found the case. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath."
"Not a psychopath, Snape. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research," Regulus corrected the other man, his voice a little lower than usual.
Then he turned to Remus again.
"You need to bring Rachel in to question her. I need to question her."
"She's dead," Remus explained.
"Excellent. How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."
"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for 14 years. Technically, she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's still born daughter, 14 years ago."
"Oh, that's... that's not right. How... Why would she do that? Why?"
"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yep- sociopath, I'm seeing it now," Snape commented.
"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort, it would have hurt."
"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he… I don't know, talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow."
"But that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"
Nobody said anything to it and Regulus realized he had said something wrong.
"Not good?"
"Bit not good, yeah," James confirmed.
"If you were dying, if you'd been murdered, in your very last few seconds, what would you say?"
"I would tell the ones I love to go to safe themselves."
"You know what I mean."
"Okay. Please, God, let me live."
"Use your imagination!"
"I don't have to."
Regulus wanted to say something about that, but he didn't know what it was and he definitely didn't want to say the wrong thing.
"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever. Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers- she was clever. She's trying to tell us something," Regulus said and started pacing around the room.
"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Regulus," reported Mrs McGonagall, coming up the stairs.
"I didn't order a taxi. Go away."
"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"
"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. McGonagall."
"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers…"
"Shut up, everybody!" Regulus yelled and the whole room went instantly silent. "Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Snape, face the other way. You're putting me off."
"What? My face is?"
"Everybody quiet and still. Snape, turn your back," Remus said.
"Oh, for God's sake!"
"Your back, now, please!"
"Come on, think. Quick!" Regulus muttered.
"What about your taxi?"
"Mrs McGonagall!"
"Regulus!" she called back at the same volume.
"I'm sorry."
The elderly lady nodded and went back downstairs to deal with the cab driver.
And now that all was quiet, Regulus could think in peace.
"Oh… She was clever. Clever, yes! She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see? Do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him. When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."
"But how?"
"What do you mean, how? Rachel! Don't you see? Rachel!"
Although the answer was obvious, Regulus looked at the confused and perplexed faces of the other people in the room.
"Oh… Look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Rachel is not a name. Then what is it? James, on the luggage, there's a label."
Regulus sat in front of his laptop and entered the e-mail address when logging in to the mephone website.
"She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone. So it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled. So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address, and all together now, the password is...?"
"Rachel."
"So we can read her e-mails. So what?"
"Snape, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street. We can do much more than that. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS. Which means if you lose it, you can locate it online. She's leading us to the man who killed her."
"Unless he got rid of it," Remus said.
"We know he didn't," James assured.
Regulus started the GPS function and then got up from the chair. In his place, James sat there and kept an eye on the laptop.
Less than two minutes later, the location of the mobile phone was displayed.
Impossible, James thought as he realized where the phone was supposed to be.
"Regulus…"
"Where is it? Quickly, where?"
"Here. It's… at 221 Baker Street."
"How can it be here? How?"
"Maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere," Remus guessed.
"And I didn't notice it?"
How was that possible?
Who do we trust, even if we don't know them?
Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?
Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?
Then he had the answer- a cabbie.
That would also explain why there was still a taxi at the door and the driver refused to leave.
Jennifer Wilson's number also sent Regulus a message.
'COME WITH ME'
"Regulus, are you OK?" James snapped the other young man out of his thoughts.
"What...? Yeah, yeah... I'm fine."
"So, how can the phone be here?"
"Don't know."
"I'll try it again."
"Good idea," Regulus murmured, stepping towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Fresh air, just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine."
~~~~
"He just got in a cab..." mumbled James. "It's Regulus. He just drove off in a cab."
"I told you, he does that," Gilderoy said. "He bloody left again. We're wasting our time!"
James dialed Jennifer Wilson's number again.
"I'm... calling the phone, it's ringing out."
"And if it's ringing, it's not here."
"I'll try the search again", James explained and started the GPS search again.
"Does it matter? Does any of it? He's just a lunatic and he'll always let you down. And you're wasting your time. All our time," Gilderoy said and looked at Remus.
He knew Regulus, he was probably just bored.
"OK, everybody... done here."
~~~~
The police were gone when the laptop started beeping, showing a new location.
James knew what he had to do.
James' taxi stopped in front of the Roland-Kerr Further Education College.
Well, he was now standing in front of two buildings that looked the same.
James chose the wrong building.
The young man looked everywhere for Regulus but couldn't find him.
The rooms and corridors were empty, but then he saw him.
James saw Regulus through the window. He was in the other building. With Regulus with room was another, older man.
He and Regulus were both holding something. James couldn't tell from the distance, but he suspected it was a pill - and certainly not a headache pill.
"Reggie!"
Both were about to take the pill and James acted out of reflex.
He pulled out his gun and shot the unknown man who killed four people.
~~~~
Regulus was sitting in the ambulance door when one of the paramedics draped a red blanket over his shoulders.
"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me," he complained to Remus as he walked up to him.
"Yeah, it's for shock."
"I'm not in shock," Regulus replied.
"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs."
"So, the shooter - no sign?"
"Cleared off before we got here."
"But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him, but… we've got nothing to go on."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
"OK. Give me."
"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, from that kind of a weapon, that's a crack shot. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service and... nerves of steel..."
His eyes happened to fall on James who was standing behind the crime scene tape and also looking at Regulus.
James… of course it was James.
"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me," Regulus said, standing up.
"Sorry?"
"Ignore all of that."
"It's just the, er...the shock talking."
"Where are you going?"
"I just need to... talk about the... the rent.
"I've still got questions," Remus said.
"Oh, what now?! I'm in shock - look, I've got a blanket."
"Regulus!"
"And… I just caught you a serial killer… more or less."
Remus had to admit that Regulus was right, and it wouldn't hurt if he gave him until tomorrow.
"OK. We'll pull you in tomorrow. Off you go."
Regulus continued his way to James and threw the blanket into the nearest police car.
"Erm... Sergeant Lockhart's... just been explaining... everything. Two pills... Dreadful business, isn't it? Dreadful," James said as Regulus stood next to him.
"Good shot," Regulus said with a small grin.
"Yes. Yes, must have been. Through that window."
"Well, you'd know. Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case. Are you all right?"
"Yes, of course I'm all right," James replied.
"Well, you've just killed a man."
"Yes, I... That's true, isn't it? But he wasn't a very nice man."
"No. No, he wasn't, really, what he?"
"Frankly, a bloody awful cabbie."
"That's true, he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here," Regulus joked, and both men giggled.
"Stop! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it," James said.
"You're the one who shot him."
"Keep your voice down!"
James and Regulus headed to the main street to get a cab.
"You were going to take that damn pill, weren't you?" James wanted to know.
"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."
"No, you didn't. That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you're an idiot," James said with a loving smile and Regulus loved it.
"Dinner?" asked the younger of the two.
"No," James replied. "Date."
Regulus was surprised, but pleasantly surprised.
"Ok. End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese. Stays open till two. You can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle."
"Regulus… that's him, that's the man I was talking to you about," James interrupted, looking at the man who had just gotten out of a car.
"I know exactly who that is," Regulus murmured before stopping at the man and the blonde woman next to him.
"So… another case cracked. How very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"
"What are you doing here?" Regulus asked directly.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you," the man replied.
"Yes, I've been hearing about your "concern"."
"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"
"Oddly enough… no."
"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Andy."
"I upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Sirius."
"No. No, wait..." James interrupted the two confused. "Andy? Who's Andy?"
"Our cousin," Regulus explained.
"This is my brother, Sirius."
"He's your brother?" James inquired, still lost.
"Course he's my brother."
"So he's not…"
"Not what?"
"I don't know... criminal mastermind?" James finished his sentence and realized how stupid that sounded.
"Close enough."
"For goodness' sake, I occupy a minor position in the British Government."
"He is the British Government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening, Sirius. Try not to start a was before I get home - you know what it does for the traffic."
That ended Regulus' conversation and he walked past his brother.
James followed him first, but then decided to turn around again.
"So, when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" he asked Sirius.
"Yes of course."
"It actually is a childish feud?"
"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners."
"Yeah... No... God, no."
Then James followed Regulus.
"Interesting, that soldier fellow", Sirius said to Marlene. "He could be the making of my brother… or make him worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade 3 active."
"Sorry,- whose status?"
"Regulus Black and James Potter."