When the Detective Work is Done, I'll Die

Chapter 7

I immediately threw a question at her.

"Miiko? Didn't you just say something outrageous?"

"No, nothing. More importantly, hang in there! Since you didn't do it, you can definitely prove your innocence."

"Ah, uh... yeah."

After saying something suspicious and mysterious, she started humming as if nothing had happened.

Suddenly, hot stares converged on us. This wasn't a situation where people were distracted by Miiko's nonsense. The detective, whose reasoning I'd criticized, roared in anger.

"Don't screw with me! What's wrong with my deduction!?"

The officer, nudged by the detective, came to his senses and agreed.

"Exactly! That reasoning was perfect, wasn't it!?"

Perfect, huh. No, it's not. There has to be something in that reasoning that hasn't been proven. I have to find it.

What I need to do now is buy time to think. I tossed out a simple question.

"First, even if you scattered the money, isn't it possible the first discoverer wouldn't even look at it? What do you say to that?"

"Ignore this much cash!?"

Now that I can't deny his reasoning, his intimidation hits me harder. While trembling inside, I keep pretending to be calm and continue explaining my doubt.

"After all, if you think about it normally, this house is full of antiques, right?"

I point at the neatly arranged antique shelf with my gaze and speak. Miiko clasps her hands and chimes in with an "Exactly!"

For some reason she looks delighted and even helps with the explanation.

"Just like Hyoga says, even to an amateur this house looks like it belongs to rich people. Just looking at the garden and the Labrador retriever, you can tell they've got money in plenty of places."

I add more information to what she said.

"The reason we came to this house was to ask for funding to support our club activities. In short, both Miiko and I assumed this house was rich, and so were the people coming and the relatives... I just can't believe anyone in this household or connected to it could be fooled by mere money, right, Mr. Furudou?"

Since I stared too hard, he seemed to tense up. Looking somewhere other than where we were standing, he nodded. "Y-yeah, maybe. In my case, I tend to focus on something other than the money, after all." He too is basically a rich hobbyist who deals in antiques—he can't help but agree with me.

Still, the detective shouted to criticize my objection.

"Obviously he panicked and did it! He killed someone without meaning to! Anyway, he wanted something to cover it up and threw the money around! It wasn't on his mind! Who cares if the next person to come is rich or not! Worst case, call the police and pretend to be the first discoverer together with them!"

His theory. There's room for rebuttal.

"Then wouldn't this be better than money? Something people would have a much harder time digging up, and that would draw everyone's attention way more."

While saying that, I tap the antique-laden shelf with my index finger.

Exactly. If you break antiques and scatter them, you'll get more attention than with money. And since broken antiques might also damage the corpse, it's perfect for throwing the investigation off track.

The detective clenches his fists and groans "Guh..." in frustration. Mr. Furudou, the witness, must have pictured his precious antiques shattered and scattered across the floor—his face turned deep blue. I might have been a bit cruel, but it can't be helped.

It's to smash the detective's reasoning and protect Miiko's and my lives. Please forgive me.

"Hey... you bastards. Couldn't you just be saying that because you couldn't break the antiques!?"

"No, that's not it. Then... if you really wanted to throw the investigation off track and draw attention, you could've broken a window without smashing antiques. Or rearranged the furniture in a weird way—there are plenty of methods... The excuse that you were powerless doesn't fly. According to your theory, the male accomplice is me, right!?"

"You... you people...!"

Having nothing left to say, the detective slammed his fist against the wall. Well, if we've driven him this far, we should be able to crush him with pressure alone.

"If you see anything odd, please speak up. I think there's a completely different reason the money was scattered."

"...Reason? Who cares... Then how about this!?"

"Huh?"

The mood shifts—he's about to start some nonsense. A nasty premonition wells up in my chest like acid reflux.

"I saw you guys commit the crime. So are you satisfied now!?"

"Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!?"

I don't even know what emotion to feel about his words. Should I laugh at this flimsy testimony, or fly into a rage?

All the suspects look dumbfounded.

Only the officer takes him seriously.

"Wh-why didn't you say that earlier!?"

"Ah... sorry. I figured if I didn't show you some deduction, you cops would be disappointed, so I just pieced together some logic. But this should do it, right? My testimony solves everything."

"O-oh...!"

I feel like yelling at the officer too. The detective's trusted by the police, but isn't he taking him way too seriously...?

Never mind that.

I have to counter this forced, nonsensical testimony. I could ignore it, but since the officer trusts the detective blindly, he might demand we stop the investigation.

I have to present a reason why Miiko and I are absolutely not the culprits!

"Then what you saw was Miiko pushing him, right!?"

"Ah... I just happened to be walking by when I heard a commotion. Thought something was up, and then... I saw the crime scene through that window. Now there's no escape."

No escape? No, that's not true. There has to be a way out. It took quite a while to piece together a way to smash his reasoning.

Finally one decisive piece of evidence surfaced in my head.

"But there weren't any fingerprints, right?"

"Wha—!?"

At last, one deduction I remembered—a single strongest piece of evidence that would completely shred his theory.

"Detective! You said Miiko did it by accident, but that would leave fingerprints! Or are you going to claim she wore gloves for some other reason!?"

"...Ah, come to think of it, she wasn't wearing gloves. She shoved him with her elbow! She just grabbed the bag that was sitting there with her elbow and scattered the money! So of course there weren't any fingerprints!"

"Even with an elbow, fibers from her clothes would come off! If the fabric presses against the skin, fibers would naturally stick, right? How do you explain that!?"

"Ah, that's why I became the first discoverer. If I say I rushed to the corpse, nobody would question a few fibers sticking to it. Or did that girl not touch the body? Since you didn't call an ambulance, you must have known at a glance he was dead on the spot, right? You touched him and checked, didn't you?"

The detective concluded that since Miiko couldn't have prepared gloves on the spot if she had no intent to kill, this was the only way to avoid fingerprints and hide the fibers. He's spilled everything...

Actually, Miiko had a vinyl bag hidden on her, but I'll keep that to myself.

Whatever the case, what do I do now? Can I pull off a comeback against this absurd testimony?

"Ugh..."

Nothing.

There's nothing.

A reversal is a dream within a dream. Does this mean Miiko and I are finished...!? That we'll be saddled with a crime we didn't commit...

"Hyoga. I believed in you...! I believed you could do it...!"

"Miiko...!?"