Conan: The Phantom Heart Thief

"Is this the surprise you mentioned?" Amuro flipped through the photo frames in front of him and looked at Kazawa, who was standing there as if expecting praise.

Kazawa pointed at the two middle-aged men in the center of the photo: "This is the diplomat who was murdered this morning, Tsujimura Isao."

"Yeah, I heard about that." Toru Amuro's expression was strange. He knew very well Kazawa had just gone upstairs to greet his neighbor, but ended up witnessing a murder.

It seems all somewhat famous detectives have this strange accident-prone aura, including Kazawa... No, Kazawa is now a detective himself, and perhaps he has inherited this curse.

Unaware of Amuro's inner thoughts, Kazawa continued: "This is the congressman I mentioned, Shigehiko Tsuguchi."

"Is Tsujimura Isao related to the organization?" When Kazawa said that name, Amuro immediately understood.

"Yes, he is very likely a lower-level member of Tsuchimura Shigehiko's faction. The murderer this morning was Tsujimura Isao's wife, Tsujimura Kimie. Her motive was that Isao had used dirty means to persecute her and even forced her ex-husband to death... This is a clue of some value." Kazawa's fingertip moved from the two smiling men in the photo toward the background. "Here's another question. Judging from their appearance and clothes, this photo was taken at most five or six years ago. But since Tsujimura Isao had been involved with the organization twenty years ago, why do they have a photo that seems commemorative only recently?"

Amuro picked up the photo frame, brought the photo closer, and began examining the background people—some blurry, some clear.

Soon his eyes lit up.

"This is a cocktail party, most likely a private gathering. They're celebrating something." Amuro lowered the frame and looked at Kazawa.

Kazawa grinned, revealing a neat row of upper teeth like a cat about to tear its prey apart: "So guess how many members of the Tunkou clan associated with the organization will be at that party?"

"I'd guess all of them." Amuro smiled back, his eyes sharp and bright.

The newly built office was bright and clean. Two bottles of fake wine sat on either side of the reception sofa, silently facing each other.

"I'll arrange for Kazami and the others to investigate this banquet... There's a lot in this group photo, so locating the place shouldn't be difficult. Well done, junior." Amuro carefully returned the photo frame to the paper wrapping Kazawa had brought it in, and said meaningfully, "Taking evidence directly from the crime scene is very useful in this case."

"As long as the boss is satisfied." Kazawa flicked a new business card in his hand.

On the wooden card, the name outlined in thin gold lines sparkled in the midday sun:

Amuro Detective Agency

Akechi Goro

—

"Where have you been..."

Standing at the door of 2-chome-20, Beika-cho, Tokyo, the short Conan put his hands in his pockets and asked the white-haired boy walking over with a displeased look.

Kazawa glanced down at the messy, faint footprints near his feet and guessed he had been wandering outside for a while. He raised the shopping bag in his hand and said, "Where else could I go? Even thieves need daily necessities and food, right?"

Conan looked at Kazawa's white hair and sunglasses, bright in the sunlight, and said nothing.

As if understanding the thought, Joker took out his key and opened the door without looking back. "Of course I can't go shopping dressed like this—it's too conspicuous. I just changed on the way back."

That was a lie. Kazawa had received a call from Hoshikawa Teru and followed him from the cafe, changing clothes on the way.

In fact, ignoring the neon lights of Nishimonkey, there were men and women in strange costumes everywhere on Tokyo's streets, so Kazawa's appearance wasn't very conspicuous.

Kazawa pushed open the door, gestured for Conan to enter, took off his coat, and hung it on the rack.

Conan glanced around the detached house, whose layout was very similar to his own home.

Just like his house, the living room was on the right after the door, and the hall led to stairs to the second floor.

He had heard the previous owner died here, hanging from the second-floor railing by his wife right at the entrance. The police had found the corpse with wide-open eyes hanging there… ahem.

Suppressing some rude thoughts, Conan looked away and followed Joker into the reception room.

Though the interior hadn't been changed, the furniture was all brand new, showing signs of recent life. Except for some out-of-place cosmetics covering the coffee table, the owner appeared to be a young man with no bad habits who kept things tidy.

Considering the owner was a weirdo who dressed up daily, the scattered cosmetics and extra clothes made sense. Joker hadn't lied; he really lived here now.

After his usual reasoning, Conan walked to the sofa and sat down, taking the juice Joker handed him.

"What can I do for you today, little detective?" Kazawa strolled over, adjusted the pillows, made himself comfortable on the sofa, and slumped down. "Are you here to ask about the case the other day?"

"Yes... I want to ask about my brief recovery then." Conan struggled for a moment, sitting up straight from the soft sofa. Wouldn't guests lose manners if he bought this kind of beanbag sofa that was easy to sink into and put it in the living room… He really didn't understand Joker's taste.

"That's what I thought." Joker nodded. "What do you want to ask? About how I knew drinking white wine would change me back? Or something else?"

"Joker, you and that organization are obviously enemies, but you seem to know a lot about them... What's your connection?" Conan clenched the juice bottle. Tiny droplets condensed on the outside, making his palms slippery, as if sweating. "And that day, when you disguised yourself as me and rushed to Tsujimura's house, why did you already know what I was wearing and come dressed in the Teitan school uniform… Were you spying on me?"

Oops, I slipped up.

Kazawa blinked and sighed silently—for his own carelessness and Conan's sharpness.

Detectives in these mystery stories were really hard to fool. One mistake, and they'd be caught and questioned.

Fortunately, when he disguised as Kudo Shinichi that day, he'd already shown off his reasoning publicly for a while...

Kazawa quickly reorganized his thoughts. He tilted his head as if thinking deeply, then said, "That's a lot of questions. Let me start somewhere. First, the drug that made you like this—you're probably most interested in that. It's called APTX4869 within the organization. It's a special drug still in development… You'd better keep the fact that 'Kudo Shinichi has shrunk' a secret. Otherwise, who knows what crazy things the organization will do."