Stacey's fanfiction (final)

“L, drink it properly. You’re going to spill it everywhere holding it like that.”

The young boy continued to balance the mug precariously between the tips of his spidery, long fingers and frowned.

“You never put enough sugar in, Miriam. I can barely taste it.” 

“I put in three. Anymore and you’ll have a heart attack.” Miriam sighed, taking the mug away from him. “Honestly. It’s bad enough you like coffee.

Before L could argue, there was a loud outburst of muttering from the other end of the room. 

He glanced down the other end of the dining hall and saw Wammy - the founder of the orphanage for talented children as well as one of his teachers - solemnly addressing a table nearby.

 "What's happened, Wammy?" Miriam asked him worriedly as he approached.

Quillish removed his glasses and sighed. "Julia's gone missing."

Julia was the orphanage's pet canary. L sat up in interest.

“Someone feeds her every morning, correct?” He sought confirmation.

Miriam nodded absentmindedly, watching Wammy walk away to another table to inform the orphans of the escaped bird. 

“Then someone is responsible.”  L declared, and this caught Miriam’s attention.

She whirled around and focused on him with a slight frown. 


“No L, this is no one’s fault. It’s just an accident.”

“Someone does feed Julia every day.” Said a dark skinned boy sitting next to L. “There’s a roster on the notice board outside the nurse’s office that’ll tell you.”


“Since when has there been a roster there?” Miriam asked him incredulously, balancing a stack of plates and bowls precariously in her arms.


He shrugged. “It’s been there for ages. You just can’t see it because E drew something naughty on it, so they put the star chart over it instead.”





“You two should be off to class. Go on, you’ll be late.” Miriam urged.

    

                                            ***

  

L was itching to get to that roster. Quadratics didn’t interest him, but a case did.



Once class had been dismissed, L hopped from his seat and walked briskly from the classroom with mounting intrigue - but when he had rounded the corner outside the nurse’s office, he realised something was wrong,


The star chart hung lopsided against the noticeboard. And on closer inspection, he found that there was nothing underneath it.


The roster that had named the one responsible for the missing bird, and the paper that E had scribbled a naughty picture on, was gone.


                                                      ***



The next morning, there was a commotion at breakfast.


"What's going on?" L asked a near by six-year old in pigtails.


"Julia's in her cage again!" She told him, beaming. "Oh, she's such a pretty bird. She's so happy to be back, she's even singing!"


L wasn't listening. He barreled through the crowd of chattering children, and made his way quickly down the hall.


When he reached Julia's cage, he stopped in his tracks. A small, bright yellow canary peered back at him through the bars, chirruping sweetly.


Julia was back after all. 




He tried to think, but the bird's singing was starting to irritate him. He was sure Julia hadn't sung this much before.


And then the answer was suddenly blindingly obvious.


He spun on his heel and marched purposefully down the hallway. 

Why had it taken him so long to realise?

Julia had been a female, and only male canaries could sing.

Someone had replaced the bird.

But the question was now, who was to blame?

He stood there for a while, thinking hard. Absentmindedly, he picked a stray hair from his sleeve, and rubbed in between his fingers.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that this was not a human hair. It was bright orange, and tipped with white. He forgot about the case completely and stared at it with a frown.

L was confused. He would have said it was a cat hair, if cats were allowed. And even if it was a cat hair, how had it got on him? He hadn’t been around any cats. And neither had anyone else.

His pulse quickened. If someone did have a cat, that would explain why Julia was missing. But who?

And that’s when he heard a loud sneeze behind him, and the answer was clear. He turned around.

“Miriam.” He said happily.

“Oh L, hi. What’s the matter?” She stuffed her handkerchief back in her pocket, looking harried.

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

She froze. “What do you mean?”

When L simply looked at her, she burst into tears.

“Please don’t tell Quillish! I found him on the street, I couldn’t leave him there. He’s just a kitten. It’s not his fault – it’s in his nature to hunt birds. Please L, I’ll do anything.” She begged.

“I want two cups of coffee at breakfast, and sugar cubes whenever I want them.” L said without hesitating.

“Fine.” She wiped her eyes. “Just promise you won’t tell.”

“I promise.” L smiled. He walked off down the hall, happily anticipating breakfast the next morning.