-o-
The beetle stalled as Hiroshi Agasa lifted his foot off the pedal too fast. He hadn't braked fast enough, but it did not matter. He had stopped at the lights, no pedestrians were hurt... And he still had his anger to work through. With a sigh, he rested his head upon the driving wheel.
Dangit Shinichi, he thought. Why are you running, now of all times? Why are you refusing to look the facts in the face, while pulling an illusion of safety and normalcy before the eyes of the ones you had sworn to protect? Hiroshi had thought it for the best at first, but now...
Raising his head to take stock of the traffic and check the colour of the lights, the professor could not help but freeze at the sight on the sidewalk. A vision from what had felt like years ago came back to him, fresh as morning dew and winter snow.
At the Haido Hotel, he'd seen the Porsche 356A pull up. He had witnessed the two men coming out of the car not far away from them as he panicked about the safety of his protégée, the very same little girl who'd just been captured by an unknown operative. He had felt the shiver of terror run down his spine as the silver haired criminal had turned to look at the net book guiding them to the location of their ally, and, unbeknownst to them, little Ai.
Hiroshi Agasa felt the very same terror fill him once more as he looked at the man standing by the traffic lights. Still as tall and cold as ever, somehow the fact that his hair had been chopped away and clumsily masked with blood-stained bandages had only made him more imposing. Gin grinned at him, his eyes gleaming with malice. Seeing the lights change, Hiroshi's subconscious took over, automatically driving the beetle away, down a couple of blocks before he could bring himself to park it on the side of the road.
Oh. Now he understood.
For the first time in years, Hiroshi Agasa felt himself cry.
-o-
- Chapter 11: The Detective's return. -
-xi-
Auburn locks fluttering slightly in the breeze, the girl pulled her red coat tighter around herself. A small backpack containing about a week's worth of clothes was saddled upon her shoulders, as she stared into the house. The weather was no longer wet, but it wasn't that warm either. Ai didn't want to be out there, soaking in the dampness, when there was a perfectly decent and dry house before.
She watched dispassionately as the neighbour, the young man called Shinichi Kudo, balanced his own travel bag upon his shoulder and scooped up the spare keys that Professor Agasa must always have left in the gangway of his house. The teenager, still in his high school uniform that he'd clumsily hidden under a thin jacket, switched off the lone light bulb that lit up the small entrance lobby. Now, more than ever, the house looked like a turtle to little Ai. A great gaping maw of shadow, the overhang above looked gloomily down at her as she left its comforting presence. Kudo led her away by the hand, never once looking back.
"Where to, then?" she asked. "You mentioned supplies..."
"Oh, not far... It's just on the way, really." Kudo grinned down at her, pretending that his shoulder wasn't bothering him too much. She could tell because he was constantly adjusting his bag's strap. "We're just going to drop by the convenience store. What do you fancy for lunch?"
For all reply, she just shrugged. Ai didn't much care what she had for lunch. She just wanted to get back indoors already.
-xi-
"A hat..." He thought to himself. "A decent hat is all I need..."
Dressed in the salary man's clothes that he had ruthlessly acquired, Gin was now walking away from the abandoned warehouse where he had ditched his car. His hair, once long and luscious, was now short, dishevelled and still a mess. He'd changed the bandage in the car, so that it didn't look quite so dirty, but it still caused some undesired attention. He gritted his teeth. Maybe he'd find a decent one in a nearby convenience store, though he wasn't sure they'd be to his taste.
Luckily for him, convenience stores are a dime a dozen in Tokyo, so he did not have to walk all that far to find one that looked like it did the odd garment and accessories in addition to the usual food, throwaway entertainment and necessities. He squared his shoulders up and focused on getting the item he was after while attracting the least attention possible... This generally meant walking purposefully, not bumping into people, but also avoiding eye contact at all costs. The moment someone looked him in the eye, they would be able to remember him, and he didn't want that. He wanted in and out as quickly as possible.
Dodging a child with a backpack he barely glanced at twice, Gin strode through the automatic doors down through the snack food isle to loiter a little in front of the magazine rack. Several other people were there already, examining the day's headlines or latest release, most of them students or stay at home moms by the look of things. Picking up a business revue, the better to fit in, Gin enjoyed the luxury of glancing around the shop behind the anonymity of a stack of printed pages. No one ever looked twice at someone who was obviously engrossed in the printed media offerings of such a store, even if they looked worse for wear. At most, they'd remember the bandages, but never the face, nor the clothes. Gin grinned. The hats were kept on a small circular rack two aisles down. The shop attendants were clearly being submerged by the lunchtime rush of local warehouse workers and office ladies dashing in for their quick fix lunch, and the aisle in question was fairly busy as well, a number of the shop's more weather-wary customers being after the disposable umbrellas right next to the hats and gloves.
Feigning disappointment in the contents of his magazine as he turned it over in his hand, he returned it to its rightful place in the shelves before strolling down the side aisle, looking deliberately disorientated at the junction near the hat rack, before heading for the exit, hands deep within his pockets and head down.
Gin didn't even allow himself the merest hint of a smile until he was well a block down from the shop, standing at a junction waiting for a yellow beetle to turn off before he could cross. With a smooth gentle motion, he pulled a black woollen hat out of his pocket. Child's play, he thought as he picked out the remains of a label tag. He hadn't shoplifted since his mid-teens, but clearly he still had the knack in him. The convenience store had been too small and busy for anyone to have been watching the security cameras too closely, and even then most employees would have just assumed one of the many hats had fallen to the floor, out of sight. All it took was a quick, deft hand at the opportune moment. With a satisfied grin, he pulled the hat down over his bandaged locks. Gin's resemblance now to a certain FBI agent wasn't lost on him. The boss may have died and Gin may well have lost his most loyal sidekick, car and colleagues to the events of that night, but he too would be reborn.
"Now..." he whispered to himself, his hand fondling the grip of the gun hidden beneath his jacket, "time to find Sherry."
-xi-
The local convenience store was bigger than most of the little corner shops bragging the title, but not so big as to be daunting. At its busiest rush hour, it only had room for the four cashiers, plus one or two self-service tills manned by an assistant. Currently only two of the tills were available, though a third cashier appeared to be getting ready to man another. Both self-service tills were out of service, with a message indicating that the shop was waiting for an engineer to come and fix them. The two cashiers on duty were regularly looking towards the entrance in the hopes that he would come soon and help them shrink down the queue... A dozen or so salary men and women were already lined up with their choice of juice, boxed lunch or supplies in hand. Unfortunately for the store's employees, the ones who entered the store then were none other than Shinichi Kudo and the little Ai Haibara.
Ai had a vague flash of recognition as she entered the store. She could remember being there, pulling along the professor as he held out a shopping basket, ready for her to deposit various vegetables in as he eyed the red meats and sweets with envy. She couldn't recall much more than that, but as she and Shinichi walked past the fresh fruit to the sweetbreads section, Ai never felt that the shop was unfamiliar...
"Humph..." She thought with a shrug. "Maybe it is just that all convenience stores look the same."
It didn't stop her from thinking fondly of the professor who had taken her in. She couldn't help but worry about the circumstances which had led to the old man leaving his own home in such a huff, all of which had led to her being in this outlet, dragged along by the strange neighbour that never spoke to her like a child, and who was bringing her to stay elsewhere for the night without any stated reason whatsoever. Eyeing the teenage detective, she couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear run down her spine. What if he... What if Kudo Shinichi wasn't what they all told her he was? What would happen if...
Something caught her eye, no, someone.
Turning her head sharply to look behind her, she stared at the people in the food-to-go aisle with them. A young, secondary school boy in uniform simply ignored her as he chewed his gum and checked his Smartphone while thumbing through the various sandwiches. An office lady nudged her glasses into place as she sorted through the contents of her wallet. More worrying was the man holding a can of iced coffee; tall with a flat cap pulled low on his lank-haired head, he wore a black turtle-neck jumper under a long flannel coat. He wasn't letting his eyes wander an inch away from Ai's temporary guardian. Noticing the small smirk forming on the stranger's face was enough to turn Ai's attention back to Shinichi. He didn't seem to have noticed the other man's interest in him, and was instead focussed on grabbing a couple of sweetbreads off the shelf seemingly at random. When she turned back to look at the strange man, he had already walked off, one hand in his pocket and can in the other. Maybe she was worrying too much. Her day hadn't really been peaceful so far. With a sigh she followed Shinichi around as he strolled over to the hygiene aisle to get some toothpaste.
Ai took a moment to observe this person she had found oddly familiar and foreign at the same time. He was handsome she could not deny that, even if he was showing signs of lack of sleep and recent weakness. His eyes darted around the shop intelligently, picking out not only the layout and the products he was after, but also the people. She could tell: he would smile at a toddler peering up to him, shake his head at the poorly dressed housewife putting a book in her trolley on how to save money when she walked past the more obvious bargains without a second glance. Sometimes he would look down to Ai with an enquiring glance followed by a melancholy smile as she pulled a quizzical face at him.
"Come on," Shinichi said at last. "Let's go pay for all this. Are you sure you're fine with the peanut-butter and jam atrocity?"
"Certain," Ai stated. She couldn't understand the detective's strange aversion to the sandwich when he'd come across it on the shelf. It was only upon Ai's exclamation that he'd even considered offering to buy it for her.
They joined the queue, debating various merits of their chosen fillings as they waited their turn. The self-service machines still weren't operational and the three cashiers were clearly doing their best to rush on their customers while maintaining the expected standard of service: welcoming smile, would you like a bag, it comes to this many yen and have a nice day. It was only between customers that the cashiers could get the time to breathe and let loose any stress. Shinichi couldn't help but observe their various habits and telltale gestures as he inched towards the front of the queue. The first cashier, a young man fresh out of school, was sweating obviously as he clumsily scanned the various items through. After bidding the latest customer goodbye, his hand would go straight for his pocket, pulling out a damp looking handkerchief to mop his forehead with. The second cashier was a tall young lady who would have been considered pretty if not for some painful looking scars above her eyebrows. She would flatten down her fringe to better hide it before her next customer arrived, putting on her best smile while nervously adjusting the top of her till as they put down their basket. The last cashier, the one looking the most frequently towards the door in the hopes of seeing the long awaited engineer, was a man nearing thirty with overly styled hair. He hardly seemed to go a minute or two without chewing his nails. It was as Shinichi and Ai started to walk towards his till that it happened... It was inevitable really.
The cashier chewed his thumbnail, gagged, coughed and then collapsed on the ground, his body convulsing before going unerringly still.
Ai just froze to the spot, her mind cataloguing all the symptoms, going through all the possibilities as to their cause. Shinichi ran forward to see if he could assist him, dropping his groceries on the spot. Before he even reached him he knew it was too late. It only took a sniff for him to decipher what had happened. As the screams rang out through the convenience store, both Ai and Shinichi whispered the name of the cause of death...
"Poison."
-xi-
Atsushi Mori smiled at what he was witnessing. It was a shame, really: the snuffing out of a young life in front of dozens of everyday citizens, children and elderly alike. A sudden, traumatising death, bringing everyone's daily schedule to a halt as a high school student prevented anyone from leaving until the police and possibly paramedics had arrived. Having gotten the shop's staff on board, he actually achieved that. Atsushi was impressed. There was plenty of drama and scandalised customers, followed by the displayed proficiency of what he presumed to be a teenage detective genius. Really all the ingredients needed for the perfect Memento Mori story.
He couldn't help but let loose a chuckle. He'd been behind the detective in the queue, bidding his time. He had been right to message his colleague from the office when he had. Atsushi had forgotten to take his gear with him, and upon seeing the young detective in store, had got a flash of the perfect headline: Return of Teen Sleuth. Taking off his cap, he grinned, signalling to his usual partner in crime who had barely got in before the doors had been shut. Leaving behind his would-be purchases, lunch could wait till after the scoop, Atsushi took three strides towards the crime scene.
Whizz, flash, snap, the perfect shot. A dead body, lying, hands clasped painfully around the throat of an otherwise handsome man. His face was obscured by the subject of the photography, the detective's own head only not quite hiding the studied locks or sharp chin of the victim. The detective himself was fully focussed on the unfortunate fellow's hands, sleeves, pockets... He hadn't noticed the photographer until it was too late. Nor did he seem to notice the little girl beside him, hand clutching at his sleeve as Shinichi Kudo's bag lay at her feet. She had turned to face Atsushi and the cameraman just in time for him to capture her look of puzzlement and fear. This was the story that was going to shape Atsushi's career.
"Shinichi Kudo... I heard you were dead!"
Upon hearing his name, the teenager swivelled to look at the reporter, his eyes wide with apprehension before narrowing as he seemed to recognise him. Atsushi wasn't sure how though. Maybe the boy had heard of him from his friend, the girl who had solved that case in the mountains involving the primary school teachers... Ran Mouri, the sleeping detective's daughter.
"You... You're a reporter."
"Yes, I am." Atsushi grinned. "Atsushi Mori, freelance reporter, it is nice to meet you at long last. Mind if I cover this story?"
"I..." Kudo stuttered and the auburn-haired child behind him tightened her grasp of his top as she hid behind him. The boy looked as though he were caught in the headlights of an oncoming van. "I don't..."
Whatever the once rising star had been about to say, it got drowned in the commotion from the door, as the remaining two cashiers were forced to enrol the assistance of the only available shelf stockist to prevent upset customers from leaving the premises. The police had just arrived, and a disgruntled police inspector was leading the charge into the building. Wearing a skirt and suit jacket ensemble, the woman known as Miwako Sato whipped out her ID as she approached the huddle by the body. A bespectacled and bedraggled paramedic stumbled along beside her, glancing nervously at the small crowd of onlookers as he knelt to examine the victim... Her glares as she took in Shinichi Kudo, the little Ai Haibara and Atsushi Mori along with his photographer put a stop to any conversation. This was to be strictly business...
Atsushi vaguely remembered having encountered her before. From what he could tell, she was looking royally peeved.
-xi-
Miwako Sato was not having a good day. She had had an argument with Takagi first thing in the morning, brought on by Yumi who had teased her about a date that had, in fact, not happened. That was because mister Takagi had been roped in to help the night prior with Megure's investigation at the last minute. Said investigation was another sore point with her as, upon seeing the FBI agents get involved, Megure had chosen to dismiss her from it while keeping Takagi on... And Takagi was forbidden to share any intelligence on it with her until the case was closed. All this while she was relegated to clearing up the other more mundane cases showing up while the big boys got to have fun with the important one... And from what Shiratori had squeaked out upon her questionings, it was a big case indeed – with more than one or two bigwigs involved.
She was seething at having been kicked out of the case, even more so when Megure, a man she looked up to nearly as much as she once did her father, had explained that it was for her own protection. If anyone ever needed protection, it wasn't her, but Takagi! All she longed to do was to go vent her frustration in the firing range... The murder-inclined population of Tokyo seemed to disagree with the mere thought. She had found herself with case after case of homicides to solve, while all the other inspectors in the division seemed to have been mysteriously roped into some unnamed task. Her anger was fuelling her intellect to go into overdrive and she was solving one murder after another in no time, barely giving her associates the chance to breathe. This did not help her blow off steam though, and when she came across Shinichi Kudo, well, let's just say that she was not in the most charitable of moods.
She had remained professional of course, and, having only ever witnessed Shinichi Kudo at work once before, she let him help out through sheer curiosity. It didn't stop her thinking back to that day she and Takagi had come across Conan's glasses hiding in the mud amongst the craters left by a frightful explosion. Nor did she forget that he had surprisingly proven to be quite unhelpful in the follow-up inquiries. She still had some ways of making Wataru talk, thankfully... Observing Kudo did help her make her own mind up on what she currently thought of the teenage detective. He seemed a lot more subdued, distracted even, than the boy she recalled having met, and whose reputation preceded him. It struck her as she watched him question the witnesses, round up the suspects along her, that maybe, just maybe...
Yes, she thought as she saw Kudo glance warily at the reporter... What was his name already, the one she considered a pest at the best of times? She was certain of it as the student put his hand protectively around young Ai's shoulders, keeping her away from the lens of the camera. Whatever had occurred on the night of that explosion, it had frightened Kudo more than anything he had encountered before. Which, considering his portfolio of solved cases, must have been frightening indeed.
"So..." Sato said, as the case was narrowing down. "We've wound it down to these three suspects... The lady that the boy, Shingo Tsukino, twelve, witnessed arguing with the victim, namely Chiyoko Kawashima, fifty-eight. Upon the death of Jouji Shibue, twenty-nine, she was found outside sipping a freshly bought cup of coffee. Then there is the man that Jouji Shibue was serving before he collapsed, who it turns out taught him at university before being stripped of his position, Souichi Tomoe, sixty-six years old. Lastly we have his ex-girlfriend, Masako Katsuki, thirty, who dropped him off, only to return shortly after to give him his keys, three short minutes before he collapsed."
"Yes," replied Shinichi Kudo. "These three all approached him within five minutes of his death, and are the only ones with any form of motive, or indeed any connection with Shibue outside of this shop."
"That might be the case, Detective," interrupted Astushi Mori. Sato shot the newspaper journalist a glare. "But that doesn't rule out a disgruntled customer, or a random killing by a mass murderer."
"No, but these three are the most suspicious never the less."
"Yes," agreed Sato, somewhat grating at jumping to the teenager's defence. It irked her that the swift and professional manner in which he had led this investigation, despite being lacklustre and distracted, caused her to blush in admiration uncontrollably. "These three are the ones with the most suspicious behaviour..."
"Indeed. Ms Kawashima deliberately chose to go to Shibue's till, letting other customers pass in front of her, despite having only spoken to the victim ten minutes before hand, as he was about to go on shift. She parted with him on poor terms no less. Why would she seek him out then, when she could easily use another cashier?" Turning to face the suspect in question, Kudo asked her directly. "What do you have to say to this, Ms Kawashima?"
Flustered by the young detective his direct manner and accusing tone Chiyoko Kawashima's hand fluttered to her breast as she looked away before answering his question.
"I simply thought of another thing I needed to say to him while shopping... I didn't want to leave without having told him how I felt."
"And you are still refusing to tell us what it was you were arguing about?" Sato couldn't help but pipe in. She was the one in charge after all. "This is despite the fact that your unwillingness to cooperate can cause you prejudice?"
The elderly woman stayed stubbornly mute. Astushi Mori's smirk was hammering another nail into any of Sato's hopes for a good mood.
"As for you, Mister Souichi Tomoe," Sato turned onto the next suspect who cowered before her crossed-armed stare. "You seemed to think it was perfectly acceptable to shout at the man as he served you, calling him an incompetent among other, ruder names, and you were grabbing at his till!"
"The boy was a thieving scumbag..." The elderly gentleman adjusted his glasses as he leaned backwards. The demoted professor clearly had no wish to use a gentler term. "Always has been... He tried to rob me of half my change!"
"And that is completely unrelated to the fact that he exposed you for fraudulent transactions at the University of Tokyo eight years ago."
Clamming up instantly at Kudo's remark, Souichi Tomoe merely quipped. "I think you'll find the investigations thereafter were inconclusive."
"You still lost your job over that whole affair." Sato pointed out, before looking to the last suspect. "Miss Katsuki, I understand that you and the victim only recently broke up, but did you really drop him off here voluntarily, before fetching him his keys? After having had such a falling out with him as we have been described?"
Masako Katsuki, a woman with the looks of a top model and the pride of a lion hardly let anything slip through her composure. One could only read her concealed fury through the iron infused into her eyes and the whiteness of the knuckles with which she held onto her purse-strap.
"Jouji and I have a... complicated relationship at the best of times. Besides, we shared a flat... At least until today." A sigh escaped from the woman's lips. "If I was dropping him off, it was to avoid making him late on my account. Goodness knows he blames me for enough things already. I... He helped me move flat this morning, at short notice. As for the keys, well, they were his to begin with. I was returning the copies he had given me."
"So it was you that chose to break up with him, not the other way around?" Kudo was asking this with the most innocent expression in the world. "Mind if we ask why?"
A little surprised by the question, Masako Katsuki took a moment to think through her answer. "I found someone else. As simple as that."
"This someone else... Would it be their flat that you've moved into? Do they have any known connection to the victim?"
The answer came sharp and harsh. "I would rather my partner not be brought into this, thank you very much."
"Anyway," the old man piped up, "how do you even picture us as suspects when you can't even find the weapon of the crime? The boy died of poisoning right? Did you even consider that it might be suicide?"
"Jouji would never consider suicide!" His ex-girlfriend butted in.
"I'm with mister Tomoe on this." The older woman, Chiyoko Kawashima had her hands on her hips as she advanced on Sato with the air of a rather frightening matron. "If you can't even tell us how any of us could have committed such a crime, then asking us these questions is a waste of time."
Irked, but remaining calm, Sato sighed and turned to Shinichi Kudo. She let her body language do the talking, really. Come on, Detective genius. Tell us how it was done. Show us that you are still the saviour of the Japanese Police force as they always claimed you to be.
-xi-
It was strange how right, how comfortable this feels, thought Ai. There she was, a child, caught in the middle of a crime investigation, clinging to the leg of a young man still in his school's blazer. A greasy haired journalist spied on proceedings as an angry looking police woman led the interrogations and processing of evidence. Most of the other customers had been allowed out after Miss Sato's officers had taken down their contact details. A sign was put on the door to prevent any new customers from entering while police work took place. Ai didn't feel any fear, any sense of alienation from all the proceedings. She just seemed to enjoy, what was it, cataloguing the various elements? She noticed that she was analysing every word that was said, trying to find links in between the turn of events and possible causes. Most of all, she was enjoying watching the teenager with her do the exact same thing.
It was like discovering a completely new person: a person who wasn't some stranger, but a close friend, a person that she could rely on to surprise her, to charm her with his childlike focus and enthusiasm as he decorticated every aspect of the case. Traces of the poison, cyanide had been found on the victim's left hand, right index finger and till. They had also been found along the bottom of his shirt, and on one or two of the shopping bags he had handed out to customers. Nowhere had they found the source of these traces though - every instance of the toxins being in the shape of a handprint. Naturally, there were signs that he had ingested the poison directly, rather than breathed it in or been administered it via needle. As Shinichi worked through all this evidence, Ai could see the cogs turning, his hands mimicking slight gestures as he pictured them in his mind. She could see the corner of his lips twitching as things seemed to take on a recognisable shape for him, as she could see him connect the dots in this invisible puzzle.
Ai loved every single second of it.
As Shinichi was once again going through the contents of the victim's pockets: keys, loose change and cash, ID card and mobile phone, something twigged at Ai's memory... Something recent.
"That reminds me..." She whispered into his ear as he was crouched down at her level checking Jouji Shibue's sleeves. "That woman, Ms Kawashima, she was in the same aisle as us while we were choosing our sandwiches, wasn't she?"
"Yes. So, what of it?" Kudo asked, raising his eyebrow at Ai's sudden involvement in the case. She had spent most of the last hour just observing as the investigation took place. "The boy Shingo said the same, as did the reporter..."
"It's probably nothing but it just struck me as odd..." She paused as she saw Kudo turn to face her with an expression both puzzled and expectant. "Her wallet... She had it out from her purse and was looking through the banknotes. It was clear that she had plenty to cover her purchase of lunch and a coffee, but... I recall seeing her flick between the notes, and there seemed to be a bit of paper or plastic between some of them."
"Really now? Thanks Haibara... That is very useful." And sporting the first true smile she'd seen on his face, he rubbed his chin in careful consideration of some obscure theory only he seemed to perceive.
Ai smiled too. She liked the way he had smiled, loved the way he made her name seem natural and unlike that of some stranger. The thought struck her that she'd enjoy watching him solve crimes all day, no matter how grisly or sordid the case. Despite being in amongst dozens of strangers, with the evidence of death so close to her feet and nothing approximating comfort... She felt at home.
-xi-
Yes, he thought, it all makes sense now.
Shinichi Kudo stood up to his full height, adjusting his thin jacket over his uniform. His travel bag lay at his feet, Haibara looking up to him as she limply held onto its strap. He had nearly forgotten the heady rush of solving a case, the euphoria of being the one to figure out the whole truth, of finding both evidence and method that would allow him to single out the murderer for what they were. He remembered the many tastes of victory and joy that his hunt for truth had given him, from his first reading of Sherlock Holmes where he had matched his idol's reasoning to the day he had managed to figure out at long last who the leader of the black organisation was. How could he have ever thought of giving it all up?
"Inspector Sato! I've figured it out. I know who the killer is..."
"Really, Kudo?" The police woman asked. Miwako Sato regarded him with a slight frown but an expectant gleam to her eyes. She swept her arms across the three suspects as the shop staff gathered around expectantly. "Who is it then?"
"The criminal..." The teenage detective began slowly, letting his bangs cover his eyes dramatically as he slowly lifted his arm. The cameraman was taking multiple shots, but he no longer cared. Although he was no longer the fame hungry boy he was before he got shrunk, and knew in the back of his mind that it still wasn't quite yet safe for him to show himself to the world, he was too intent on delivering the truth of the case to think of anything else. His sole focus was the criminal standing before him, the one that he fully intended to bring to justice.
"Is no other than..." A jolt of pain ran through his right arm as he straightened it out, getting ready to flick the wrist of his accusing hand up. He ignored it, merely clenching his jaw as a result.
"You." The index finger was up now, pointing directly at a specific suspect. Gasps came from within the immediate vicinity as the person in question recoiled from the simple gesture.
"You are the one, Ms Chiyoko Kawashima."
Teenage detective Shinichi Kudo, saviour of the Japanese police, had well and truly returned.
-xi-
To be continued...
Author note: It took me a while to get started with this chapter, but once the case actually got going... Well, I never thought I would have this much fun writing a run of the mill murder mystery in this fic!
I realise a number of details regarding Japanese convenience stores are probably off - I decided just to go ahead with my personal, very much not Japanese experience of British corner shops and stores.