For Suruga, whose specialty was covert investigation, getting the bags of potato chips without being seen by L. Maki, or the surveil lance cameras was simple. "Shall we begin our regular strategy meet- ing?" quipped Suruga in the server room. His arms were full.
"Tonight we even have a lovely dessert," Kujo replied. "You didn't open them?"
"I figured we'd share that pleasure together." Suruga opened the bag containing the data first. A capsule with a microchip inside rolled out from among the potato chips. "Bingo!"
Kujo took the microchip and got to work on the laptop. However, her finger on the mouse button stopped clicking almost immediately.
"These are...graphic files."
"What is this?"
"These look like Maki's family pictures. She's still young here, so they must be from a couple years ago."
The pictures were of a family vacation the Nikaidos had taken with the Amane family when they lived in Osaka. Among them were pictures of Misa Amane before her modeling debut, which were of supreme importance to L, but of course, Suruga and Kujo had no way of knowing that. They looked at each other with a feeling of foreboding.
"What about the notebook?" Kujo said as she opened the other bag. In it was a black college-ruled notebook wrapped inside a plastic bag. "Is this what Kira was using to murder his victims?"
"Yes, the Death Note. According to L's report, you can kill a per- son just by writing their name in this notebook."
The two were tense in the presence of the ultimate killing weapon. Slowly Suruga turned the page. The pages were practically blackened with words. "...Funawa's imo youkan...kusa dango from Shibamata, Rikishi monaka from Ryogoku, mamekan from Asakusa, Kototoi dango from Mukoujima, Toraya's youkan... what the hell?"
"They're all famous sweets from around Tokyo."
They were rendered speechless by the unexpected contents of the notebook.
It was a list of sweets I had sampled since coming to Japan with each of the items ranked in L's own discriminating, opinionated style. While it might have been more precious to L than his own life, to Suruga and Kujo the notebook was worthless.
"Do you mean to tell me that L. saw this coming?" Suruga threw the notebook aside and held his head in his hands. With her arms folded across her chest, Kujo pressed her right hand against her temple.
"I figured the probability of L producing the real things was only about 3 percent anyway."
Though Suruga thought she sounded a lot like L just then, that she didn't seem terribly disappointed was surprising. "You have something else in mind?"
"Yes, but it could get complicated. It could also get dangerous, for you too, but if we don't risk it, L might never bring the real notebook or antidote data out in the open."
Suruga thought about it as he ran a hand over his growing stubble. It seemed evident that nothing more would come from continuing the investigation as he had. And besides, the Bureau was anxious to hear some good news. "What's your strategy?" he asked.
"Fortunately, Maki trusts me, and L will also do what she says. We'll use that to set a trap." Kujo's eyes glowed with the determina- tion to match wits with the world's greatest detective. "I'm going to make him write my name in the Death Note."