Part Four: Kidnapped!
When I woke up, my head was pounding and I felt like I had to throw up. That foul chemical smell still burned in my nose, my mouth was as dry as an old rag, and the odd sensation of motion told me I was in the car's back seat even before I managed to open my eyes.
The sun's glare made the car's driver little more than a silhouette in a chauffeur's cap. I tried to sit up, to see the guy's face, but my stomach gave a mighty lurch and I let out an involuntary groan.
"Chloroform can have that effect," the chauffeur said unsympathetically. "Just lay back and take some deep breaths. You'll feel better soon."
"Who…" I tried, and swallowed hard a few times.
"All in good time," the chauffeur said. "For now, just breathe. Make a mess and you'll be the one cleaning that leather, not me."
My little body felt sick enough to cry, but I wasn't about to give my kidnapper the satisfaction of knowing he'd rattled me.
"Why are you doing this?" I managed. "What do you want with me?"
"And what makes you think this is about you?"
The chauffeur kept his eyes on the road, signaling before making a sharp left turn.
I groaned again, my entire being weak with nausea.
"Please…can't we stop…just for a minute…" I gasped. "I really…I-I don't…"
"Hold it in just a little longer," the chauffeur said, revving the antique car up a rather steep slope. Another left, then a right along a narrow, winding lane lined with trees, and he stopped short and turned around to look at me.
His features were long, smooth, and eerily blank. As I watched from the back, still ill and reeling, he removed his cap, then raked both hands through his short, black hair…
…and pulled off his face.
I got out of the elegant, black car barely a block from the neighborhood park. My stomach had finally settled but, as I watched the car and its driver vanish back into traffic, my head kept swimming through everything that had happened, and everything that driver had said...
...This plot goes deeper than you know, Silver Bullet. That financier wasn't the first to die. And you can believe he won't be the last...
"Conan-kun! Conan-kun, there you are!"
I gave a start and turned around, a little off balance. The Detective League swarmed up and surrounded me, all three of them talking at once.
"Stop, stop, slow down!" I exclaimed, pressing a hand to my throbbing head. "What's going on?"
"Conan-kun, you have to come see!" Ayumi squeaked, pulling at my other hand.
"Where have you been, anyway?" Mitsuhiko asked. "We tried to call you, then to text you, but you didn't answer!"
"Yeah," Genta pushed in, striding close beside me as if to make certain I didn't pull away. "It's getting dark already. We're gonna have to go home for dinner soon!"
I frowned and pulled my phone from my pocket. Sure enough, it showed two missed calls and three texts.
"Of course…" I realized. "We were in a dead zone. No reception…"
"Here it is! Look, Conan-kun!" Ayumi pointed excitedly. "It's all new, all of it! We actually watched the workers put them in!"
"Huh?" I said, following her pointing finger toward our little playground. "What are you…"
It was clear some recent work had been done. The ditches beneath the swings and at the foot of the old slide had been neatly filled in, the long-broken monkey bars had been replaced with a small, multi-colored jungle gym, and over at the far edge, three new rides stood in a neat row. Three animal-shaped spring rockers: a green duck, an orange tiger…
And a striped zebra.
I stared, then broke out laughing even though, inside, my nerves were all on edge. I glanced at the swings, then at my friends.
"Have you guys been digging up this sand?" I asked, crouching down to inspect their work.
"Of course," Genta said. "The workmen swore there was nothing buried under there, but we wanted to be sure anyway."
I smiled a little and ran the smooth sand through my fingers…
Only to stop, and examine the sand grains more closely.
"This isn't the same as beach sand," I observed, using my index finger to spread the granules across my palm. "The texture is different."
"Well, yeah," Mitsuhiko said. "Beach sand is full of impurities, like bits of seashells and seaweed and volcanic rocks and things like that. Playground sand is usually made of granite so it tends to be softer and finer and much, much cleaner than other kinds of naturally eroded sand."
"Yeah?" Genta challenged. "And you know this because?"
"I read. A lot. And, I talked to the construction guys," Mitsuhiko said, and smirked.
"And, he's right," I said, rolling the fine, rounded granules between my fingers before brushing my hands clean and standing up. "This sand has a much more consistent, homogeneous quality than beach sand."
"So what?" Genta demanded.
"Nothing," I said, and glanced at the sky. The pink clouds were already darkening to purple, and a few stars were starting to twinkle through the twilight. Soon, the streetlights would turn on, and I didn't want Uncle Kogorou to send Ran out looking for me. I planned to sneak out later, so I knew I had to be on good behavior now…or, at least until Uncle Kogorou went to bed.
"You're right, it is getting late," I said. "I have to go home. See you guys later, OK?"
"OK, Conan-kun," Ayumi said. "We just wanted to show you – sometimes a mystery really does lead to a zebra!"
"Yeah, I guess so," I said and tried to smile, but my mind was whirring at top speed and I couldn't quite get the smile to sit right.
Ayumi had no idea how right she was...
To Be Continued…
