When the Detective Work is Done, I'll Die

Chapter 14

"A demon?"

When I first echoed the word, he answered while clutching his blood-stained hair.

"That's right... that guy..."

What followed was Furudou's tragic past.

His daughter had suffered a serious heart disease. His wife had collapsed early from illness. While desperately working to earn money for his wife's treatment, he noticed his daughter's condition too late.

Even if he rushed overseas for a heart transplant, a huge amount of money was required.

Though he tried to collect donations, time ran out. Money did not come as he wished. Yet his daughter's remaining life slipped away moment by moment.

"Then something like a lie, like a miracle, happened...! On my way home from work. In a shrine I passed on my way to the hospital, an antique market was open. I was urged to buy, and received a bargain for next to nothing. Just like that..."

It seemed to be a single tea bowl. To an amateur's eye, it looked like nothing special. Simply, to fill the growing emptiness in his heart over being unable to do anything for his suffering child, he had taken up amateur antique collecting.

While thinking he had probably been palmed off with cheap goods again, he bought it. Yet, as he said, a miracle occurred.

When he happened to talk to a friend knowledgeable in antiques, the friend told him the tea bowl was worth a fortune—thirty million yen, no, maybe fifty million. Mr. Furudou must have been beside himself with joy.

Maybe she could be saved. Maybe his daughter could come back from the brink of death.

Through an introduction promising a high purchase price, Furudou met Mr. Koyama. He had no idea this was the beginning of an even greater tragedy.

"At first I thought he was just a wealthy antique maniac... but... that was only his public face. If only I had known how he had earned his fortune through vicious methods...! If only I'd known...!"

The first deal with Mr. Koyama was concluded. He received half the money at once, and was asked to come back later when the rest would be ready.

The first half was apparently used for his wife and daughter's medical expenses.

"But when I visited next... I realized that was his worst trap. Besides the tea bowl he showed me an amazing antique, bringing a certain plate toward me. The moment I took it, my luck ran out... I dropped it. I... dropped and shattered something unbelievable."

Mr. Hida interjected a question into Furudou's story.

"If it was only that, it sounds like Mr. Koyama wouldn't be the only one at fault..."

"Right. If only it had been just that. That demon demanded an outrageous sum. Not only were the thirty million I'd received practically confiscated, I was charged an even greater amount... but at that time, I did slip—I admit my grip was poor. Something had been smeared on it..."

"S-so, that man... rigged it so you'd drop it... intending from the start to squeeze money out of you, Mr. Furudou...?"

"Yes! Exactly! He was an outrageous swindler! The way he sneered at me, and the sound of that plate shattering... I can't bear to remember...!"

I softly murmured what had occurred to me from his story.

"So that's why, when I made him imagine antique shelves shaking and being broken, Furudou reacted most excessively..."

Everyone already understood what came after Furudou's despairing tale, even without his saying it.

In the end, his daughter died before the money could be gathered. It was too late. Who could he direct this rage and sorrow toward? Furudou knew.

That opponent was Mr. Koyama.

He could not forgive Mr. Koyama, who had smashed the miracle that could have saved his daughter and was living on without a care.

"...That's the end of the story. I don't care anymore... take me to the station quickly and give me the death sentence or whatever. Everything is meaningless now. I've carried out my revenge, after all."

He held out his hands for the officer's handcuffs. Yet someone grasped his hands before the officer could.

It was a person whose face was horribly twisted with rage.

One of the detectives present. Not the man. The woman.

It was Miiko.

"Carried out your revenge... was killing him your way of revenge? Do you truly believe that was all right?"

The officer tried to pull her away once, but she would not move. "Let me say this at least!" Miiko screamed.

"Do you feel unburdened now? Do you feel refreshed?"

To that question Furudou uttered an obvious lie. His voice shook terribly. Anyone could tell he was forcing himself.

"Ah... I'm relieved that bastard is gone... now everyone will be happy... or what? Are you going to preach the fantasy of the dead who say we mustn't forgive our foes?"

"I won't say that. I absolutely won't! Even if your daughter forgave the murder, it doesn't matter. You don't understand the weight of the crime you committed! Finished your revenge? A selfish, filthy revenge that won't benefit your daughter in the least!?"

"Hmm? Won't benefit her? That devil was tormenting everyone. Someone had to play the dirty role, didn't they...?"

Realizing angering the culprit was dangerous, I immediately pulled Miiko away. I felt bad for her wanting to speak, but this was too risky.

I had her keep a little distance. She seemed not even to notice my restraint, still pouring out her rage.

"Understand? You're no dirty role-player! You yourself are worse than that devil! After all, you stole from everyone else the chance for revenge!"

"Hah, chance for revenge!?"

As the handcuffs were fastened, Furudou howled that he didn't understand.

"Yes! Other people must have hated him. They might have wanted to show him up, surpass him—many different ways of revenge. Everyone was trying to clear their hearts in their own way. But you did it. You chose the worst possible method that can never be taken back! You took it away! You made it so neither you nor anyone else can ever clear their hearts! Understand! Realize the weight of that sin...!"

Miiko declared it. Furudou, lost in layers of confusion, seemed no longer to know what he was doing. With dead eyes he was led out to where the patrol car waited.

Perhaps exhausted from shouting, she sat on a chair in the living room. Mr. Hida simply watched Mr. Furudou being taken away in silence. As for the detective—he was gone. Had he ridden off in that patrol car? Or had he fled, terrified of being held accountable for his failure?

I don't know. But no—surely that guy will claim it was legitimate self-defense for Mr. Furudou, I thought, trying to conceal the murder. Whether intentional or truly ignorant, the damage from protecting the culprit must be enormous.

Surely this truth will come to light later when Furudou is caught, and will be made public to society.

That detective will probably sink to the very bottom of society. As good as dead. Did I reveal the truth and kill the detective, then?

When I noticed, it was six p.m. Our statements were postponed to another day, and we were released. On our way home, the adorable detective walked beside me whistling.

I asked her a question.

"Hey, the reason Miiko plays at being a detective—is it because you wanted to say that? To convey your own feelings?"

"You understood well."

"No, at every scene you've lectured the culprit, right? I just found the common thread now."

"That's right. I'm a detective, and also a thinker. I want to convey everyone's pain. That no one becomes happy when people die. That's why I solve cases. Right after solving a case, when the culprit is most damaged in heart, I deliver those words. Then the culprit will surely regret it."

"By the way, why did you try to do something like that?"

"...Because there's someone important to me who suffers when incidents happen nearby, I guess."

Saying so, she turned toward me. Me—the one who'd been through hell thanks to the cases that detective got involved in.

Important... was she teasing me?

...But maybe that's fine too. She's cute, brave, and always helps me. She throws in support whenever I'm in trouble.

This time I want to support her. In that sense she's an important person to me too. Even if she doesn't think of me as important, I won't change my mind.

Always her...

Maybe I should say it right now.

"Ah, um..."

I've always liked you. Whether you're a detective or not doesn't matter.

"Um... will you..."

I want us to be more than friends. Now, after brilliantly solving the case, is the perfect chance to confess.

"Miiko! Will you...!"