When the Detective Work is Done, I'll Die

Chapter 9

Moving from the parlor to the living room with the motto "Let's stay calmer." I stepped away from the blood–reek of the murder scene and gulped down the air of a different place. A fresh start. I rolled my stiff shoulders round and round.

Well then, Mr. Furudou—who had never wanted to stay with the detective—and Mr. Hida, who had come ahead to the living room to take fingerprints. Right now, these two are the only possible culprits Miiko and I can think of.

While they wait for the police questioning to begin, let's at least squeeze out their alibis.

"Excuse me. Can either of you prove that you were with someone at the time Mr. Koyama died? Um, to be exact, from the time Mr. Furudou left the house after finishing his deal......"

Mr. Furudou glanced at his watch and gave me an easy–to–follow explanation.

"About three-thirty. Roughly from three-thirty...... When did you kids arrive?"

Let me see, I try to remember. It's only an estimate, but we left school right after class at three-thirty, and it took about thirty minutes to get here. So I think it was four o'clock.

"I'm pretty sure it was four......"

Those vague guesses were suddenly confirmed with evidence by Miiko, who had appeared behind us.

"A little over ten minutes ago. That's probably when we arrived! The time stamp on the photos I took with my smartphone matches."

"Yeah, yeah...... w-wait, what!? Miiko!?"

She burst in so abruptly that I instinctively jerked my upper body back and lost my balance. I staggered and crashed into the living-room wall. The impact shook the nearby shelf and sent ball-point pens and other things rolling off.

"What's with you...... Hyoga, you're overreacting. It's not like a corpse just popped up and said hello."

Puffing out her cheeks, she scolded me while picking up the pens. Then she placed them on the left side of the memo pad that had several pens stacked on it.

At that Mr. Hida raised his voice and barked a warning at Miiko.

"Hey! Put them on the right, would you!?"

"Huh!?"

"Move over, move over. Mr. Koyama would get mad if I left them on the left—said it was hard to use."

"Er......"

Did she notice our eyes going wide? She coughed repeatedly as if to erase everything she had just said. Then one line.

"Ah...... come to think of it, I don't have to serve him any more, do I......"

Not knowing how to react, we just gave a strained "Ah-ha-ha" and left it at that.

Pulling myself together, I resumed the questioning. I checked Mr. Furudou's alibi.

"Um, so. During the forty minutes after you left, did you meet anyone?"

"Unfortunately not. Work finished early, so I just withdrew the money and came straight here with it. Talked with Mr. Koyama, left the house. In that whole time I didn't meet anyone except Mr. Koyama inside. Wish someone had been home."

"I see...... no alibi. Oh, even if your family had been there, they might have covered for you, so we couldn't prove the alibi anyway."

This time Miiko asked Mr. Hida for his alibi.

"How about you, Mr. Hida? What were you doing then?"

"Let's see. Didn't I mention it? First, the alibi. I left home around three to shop for dinner."

"Probably irrelevant, but what were you planning to cook?"

"Curry, I thought...... And I'd noticed the rubber gloves and vinyl bags for garden work were gone, so I meant to pick up more."

"Hmm...... thank you. And for that hour or so, what did you do?"

"Today there was a big sale at a supermarket I don't usually go to. I walked all the way there, but realized I'd forgotten my wallet...... When I got back, it had turned into this mess."

If it's that supermarket......

Miiko and I thought the same thing: maybe we could prove one thing. She pressed for more details.

"Did you actually go inside the supermarket?"

"No, I turned back in front of the parking lot."

Oh, that's a shame.

"Er......"

"Why so gloomy all of a sudden?"

Miiko politely explained the reason for her bitter face.

"Well, if you'd shown up on the security cameras it would've been the perfect alibi. And at a supermarket that far away......"

"Ah, that's what you meant! What a waste, I should've gone in!"

I don't think "what a waste" is the real issue here.

Next to me someone was patting his chest in relief, muttering "Good thing I didn't go in." If Mr. Hida were definitely cleared, Mr. Furudou would become the sole suspect.

But that shouldn't be the point. If you didn't do it, you should be able to stand tall and say so.

In the end we couldn't pin down the truth through alibi checks. We'd have to hunt for evidence the old-fashioned way.

We should investigate the parlor again. But I have no clear idea what to look for next. There probably aren't any more unusual clues.

This incident looks like accidental manslaughter. It seems like a spur-of-the-moment thing, and everyone had equal motive to hate the victim.

At the moment all suspects lack alibis.

While I was wondering what to examine next, Miiko murmured "Ah!" with her smartphone in one hand.

"What? What, what?"

I focused on the screen she was staring at. In the corner of the room stood a black stand—two upright bars rising from a plaque bearing a crest. It looked made to hold something long. It seemed familiar.

Miiko's shoulders bobbed up and down as she spoke.

"This is the same one in my big brother's room!"

Once again her loud voice startled me. The fog in my mind lifted. My heart pounded and I couldn't help crying out.

"Ah!? Ahh! That makes sense! The club president!"

Miiko's one-year-older brother—also the founder and president of the "Vtuber Research Society"—collects weapons as a hobby, and I'd seen the item shown in the smartphone photo. Miiko supplied the name.

"It's a sword rack!"

"Now I remember completely...... which means...... a sword was here......?"

"Seems like it......"

With that in mind, Miiko and I returned to the parlor together. "W-Why are you back!?" growled the detective, and Miiko beamed back "I'll be back!" Was it frustration that made the detective tremble?

Not knowing what to retort, we left it at that. Finding the sword came first.

Wondering if it had been stolen, I checked suspicious spots: behind the dresser, under the table. Half joking, I even looked up at the ceiling—sometimes the last place you'd expect hides something by some trick. I thought the same this time, but nothing.

Miiko, pressing her ear to the floor while hunting for the sword, suddenly froze. If she was surprised, the sword must be someplace surprisingly ordinary.

Miiko leaned in close and whispered to me.

"Hey...... I found it. There's a gap under the antique shelf, and in there...... and blood......"

"Blood...... you don't mean that person's blood......"

The sword—evidence that would point to an unthinkable person.

There's only one problem...... and that very problem is why she's speaking in a tiny voice.

"Uh-uh...... hey, that detective did spend more time looking around than we did, and should be someone the police trust. If a valuable item disappeared from where it ought to be......"

"It's not like he didn't notice...... right? That guy's sharp, grabbed all kinds of evidence like the memo pad...... after Miiko dumped him he must've searched this room frantically to get back at her."

"Yeah...... then why did he keep quiet about the sword......?"