Part Three: Divisive Diversions
The great fictional detective Sherlock Holmes often complained to his friend and chronicler, Dr. Watson, that the mysteries he solved should not be written as adventures, but as case studies, documenting his scientific approach to detective work. The problem, he thought, was that most people see, but they are not trained to truly observe. Even experienced Scotland Yard policemen, like Inspector Lestrade. They might get a general picture, but they tend to miss, or misinterpret, specific details that, for the detective, would indicate where that picture fits in the larger context of the crime at hand.
I'd only managed to catch a brief glimpse of the crime scene photos on Uncle Kogorou's laptop before I was so unceremoniously dragged away. But, I'd noted several suspicious details that set my detective's brain going.
That sand…it stuck in my mind like, well, wet sand. I remembered reading something similar, back before my transformation…a case file that noted traces of sand found in the victim's lungs…up his nose…
But a vague memory wasn't enough to run a search, and it certainly wasn't enough to bring to the Inspector. Or, Uncle Kogorou.
So, after Ran handed me my afterschool snack and sat back down at the kitchen table with a book, I went to the living room, kicked my soccer ball out from the corner, and started juggling it with my legs and knees while I pondered all I'd learned so far, sorting through my observations on a hunt for missing pieces…
Crime scenes are a lot like jigsaw puzzles. Piece together enough clues, and the image of the perpetrator starts to emerge from what may initially seem merely a scattered jumble of colors, patterns, and shapes.
That's where experience, strategy, and inductive reasoning come into play.
Often a detective will start out with a theory: say, for example, the crime was a burglary; the motive, therefore, was probably to obtain money for some purpose – most likely drugs, or possibly gambling.
Based on this theory, the detective will put together a profile of the probable offender and start looking for likely suspects.
This kind of theory-based reasoning, from the general to the specific, is called 'deduction.'
The opposite of deductive reasoning is inductive reasoning – moving from the specific to the general, like a puzzle-worker carefully inspecting the shapes and colors of each individual piece to build a coherent image. This approach leaves more room for error but, since I didn't yet have enough information on this case to form a reasonable theory, this kind of puzzle-worker strategy was my best chance to sniff out a trail that could put me ahead of the game…little kid or no little kid…
I knew the victim was a Tokyo financier, a middle-aged male. He had been found on Tatadohama Beach in the early morning. The crime scene photos showed his mouth filled with wet sand…sand that had been disturbed, most plausibly by some sort of scavenging beach animal. Perhaps a bird or crab.
Such disturbance would indicate the body had been lying on the beach for some time before it was found – an indication supported by the crime scene photos. Though the water level was quite low by the time the police arrived, the photos showed the body sprawled just at the high tide line, the material of his business suit already nearly dry.
The tide must, therefore, have been high when he washed ashore, and in transition when the surfers found the body.
Surfers tend to prefer the tidal swells of a rising tide to an outgoing tide, but tidal ranges shift from location to location, and even an outgoing tide can make promising waves.
That meant it was reasonable to assume the swells caused by the changing tide drew the surfers and, as the tide went out, the lower water level revealed the body.
But, since the body seemed to have been washed ashore, rather than dumped, the beach was probably not the site where the murder took place. If I could get to a computer, trace the water's changing path, maybe I could find out where the body went into the sea. Pin that down, and I'd be one step closer to finding the actual crime scene – and possibly the murderer!
A surge of excitement filled my heart, and I juggled the ball even higher—
"Conan-kun!" Ran scolded, looming over me like a wrathful spirit. "You know you're not supposed to play with that ball in the house!"
I jumped despite myself, legitimately startled, and the ball landed and bounced before I could catch it. I glared behind my glasses, but this wasn't the time for a fight. So, I swallowed my irritation and put on my brightest 'little boy' face instead.
"Sorry, Ran-neesan! I was just thinking!"
Ran's stern expression softened.
"Well, why don't you get started on your homework? Get it done now, and you can play all weekend! Outside, though. Not indoors, where you can break things."
As if...!
I scowled and started the ball spinning on my finger. I had worked for years to perfect my muscle control, to learn to move with precision and purpose, just like Sherlock Holmes...
But, of course, Ran didn't know that. She didn't know I was her friend, Shinichi. No, she saw only Conan...a little boy, playing with a soccer ball in her father's living room.
Or...did she?
I looked at her face as she watched me with the ball, and for a moment, I could swear she was seeing me, the real me, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Ran...I..."
I caught myself, and the ball, and forced a boyish giggle.
"Oops! Almost dropped it!" I chirped, relieved to have broken the odd tension between us. Yet, that didn't change the fact that with every diversion, every awkward lie, I was putting a divider up between us, and that guilt lingered, making my face burn red. I ducked my head quickly and dashed across the room to the toy bin, desperate to change the subject. "I'll put this ball away! Say, what's that you're reading, Ran-neesan?"
Now, it seemed, it was Ran's turn to blush. My embarrassment turned to curiosity as I watched her hug the book closer, as if trying to hide it from me.
"Oh, nothing," she said. "Just some stupid mystery stories."
A light went on in my head, and I couldn't bite back a grin. So, that explained that odd, intense look she'd given me! Ran wouldn't be reading mystery stories unless she was thinking about her friend, Shinichi. And, seeing me with that soccer ball had just been a further reminder! She didn't doubt my cover after all! But, just to make sure...
"You've been thinking about him again, haven't you," I teased, knowing, if it was true, she'd certainly try to deny it.
"What - no! I...I mean, I don't know who you're talking about," she stammered, blushing right up to her ears.
My smile grew wider.
"Hey, I know that book!" I peeped, pointing at the half-hidden cover. "That's The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle! What's your favorite story, Ran-neesan?"
"Well...I haven't exactly finished them all yet," she admitted, then frowned. "Wait, isn't this book a little advanced for a kid your age?"
"Are you kidding?" I scoffed. My first time through elementary school, I'd read every one of the original Sherlock Holmes stories before second grade. Including the novels. "I love Sherlock Holmes mysteries! My favorite one in that book is "The Adventure of the Dancing Men." Have you gotten to that one yet, Ran-neesan?"
"Oh, yes!" she said, and opened the book, flipping to an image of several stick figures posed in different positions. Some of the figures held little flags. "I have to admit, that was a good one. Poor Elsie Cubitt! That awful gangster chased her all the way to England from America! He just couldn't accept she'd already found the love of her life..."
"Yeah, OK," I said, "but what's really interesting about that case is the code! I remember, the first time I ever read that story, I set myself a challenge. I wanted to see if I could crack the code before Sherlock Holmes revealed the answer in the book. Figuring it had to spell out something in English, I looked up the most commonly used English letters, and found out the vowels 'a-e-i-o-u' - especially 'e' - are used most frequently. Since the name 'Elsie' has two 'e's, that's all I needed to crack the code!"
Ran chuckled.
"That just how Sherlock Holmes did it," she said.
"Yeah, after me," I said, and laughed. "Guess great minds really do think alike."
"Shinichi..."
"Yeah, Ran?" I said, and almost choked.
Ran hit me on the back until I could breathe again, then said, "Conan-kun, are you OK? I was just going to say that Shinichi used to do the same thing when we were little: put the book away while he worked to solve the mystery himself, then check to see if that's how the detective figured it out in the story!"
...you remember that...
I smiled, but the awkward guilt was rising like a lump in my throat, and it was getting harder to swallow it back.
"I used to tease him about that," Ran said, her expression growing distant, and a little sad. "But, even then I was proud of him...that he could figure things out so easily, without anyone's help. Well...most things..."
She sighed, and I frowned a little, not quite following her meaning.
"It's too bad Shinichi had to go away just before you came to us, Conan-kun!" she said. "You two are so much alike, it's scary!"
I grimaced, and inched past her, through the door to the kitchen. I needed to get out of there, and this conversation, before my cover really slipped.
"Yeah... Well, I have to go...em..."
"But, Conan-kun," she said. "What about your homework?"
"I'll do it later," I said, already slipping on my sneakers. "Right now, I...uh... I have to, um..."
The doorbell sounded, followed by the eager knocking of several small hands. I knew who it was even before I answered.
"Conan-kun!" Ayumi squealed, standing outside the door with her friends Genta and Mitsuhiko. All three were in my class at school, and all three had essentially pushed their way into my life, fancying themselves to be something of a junior detective club, with big, loud Genta as their nominal leader. They advertised their 'detective skills' at school, inviting kids faced with a mystery (usually a lost notebook, or sometimes a lost pet) to write out their problem and slip it into Genta's locker. And, if they got stuck, as they so often did, they brought the mystery to me.
Sometimes, I found that annoying.
Today, though, I was grateful. Especially when Ran's face brightened.
"Oh, I see!" she said. "Do you four have another mystery to solve?"
"Yes, that's why we need Conan-kun!" Ayumi said.
"You have to come with us to the park," Genta said, practically dragging me outside.
"Bye, Ran-neesan!" I called, and followed the group down the street. Once Ran had closed the door, though, I stopped short.
"OK, what's this all about?" I asked.
"It's the sand in the playground, under the swings," Mitsuhiko said.
"What about it?"
"It's way too high!" Ayumi said.
"Yeah," Genta pushed in. "Used to be I could barely reach the swing on my toes, but today the sand's been piled up so high, the bottom of the swing almost touches it when you sit down!"
It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes.
"That's hardly a mystery," I said. "The sand under the swings has been eroded away from years of feet scraping on the ground. The park management probably just filled in the holes to make it easier for kids like us to reach them...and safer, if some kid should trip or fall down."
"Awwwww," the kids moaned.
"We were hoping it was a real mystery," Genta said, "like, maybe, someone had buried some secret treasure under the swings, and was trying to cover it up."
"Unlikely," I said, and smirked. "As the doctor said, 'When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.'"
"Huh?"
"What's the sand under the swings have to do with horses?" Genta asked.
"Or zebras?" Ayumi added curiously.
"It just means that the more mundane answer is usually the right one," I said. "Look, you guys, I'm actually kind of busy right now, so—"
"Oooh, Conan-kun, do you have a case?" Ayumi said eagerly.
"Can we help?" Mitsuhiko asked.
"Maybe later, OK," I hedged, not really wanting the three of them hanging around while I tracked down those tidal charts I'd been wanting to check. "In the meantime, why don't you look into that sand mystery. Who knows, maybe you'll find that zebra after all!"
I ran across the street, leaving the Junior Detective League confused, but curious enough to head back to the park...at least, for now. Inspector Megure's car was gone, and I knew it wouldn't do much good going back to Uncle Kogorou, especially after the way I'd just left Ran, so I decided to walk to the library and use the computers there to follow up my lead on the case.
It's pretty rare for me to go out walking on my own in this form. Usually I try to stay within a group. Mostly, because it helps my cover: a kid my size walking alone usually attracts attention. But, also, because I actually rather like being part of a group, having people to talk to and bounce ideas around with.
I wouldn't have gone off on my own today, except I was feeling obstinate and grumpy, and more bitter than usual about my situation. I mean, in just the past half hour, I'd been snubbed by the cops and treated like an infant by a girl who was pining for her best friend - a friend she could never see again as long as I was stuck in this form! My angry frustration was like a roiling sea inside my gut. I felt...I felt I needed to prove myself to myself - prove that I still was the great detective I had been, despite everything that had happened to me. Despite the awful drug that shrank my body, stole my life...my reputation...
I needed to solve this case, and I wanted to do it on my own the way I used to, without any help from anyone. Not Uncle Kogorou, not the police, and certainly not the Detective League.
Just me. Shinichi Kudo...a.k.a. Conan Edogawa.
Irrational? Maybe. Immature? Perhaps. But, that's how I felt as I trudged down the sidewalk, moving stubbornly away from all my friends.
I was pretty deep in my head by the time I got to the busy street a few blocks from the house, and I wasn't really looking at my surroundings. That's why I was so startled when the door to an antique-looking black car opened right in front of me. A strong hand clamped a cloth over my mouth, strong arms pulled me inside...
There was an odd, sharp, medicinal smell...
And everything went black.
To Be Continued...
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