The victim:
Haruto Shibata (68 years old, CEO of a company)
His brother:
Hinata Shibata (65 years old)
His Associates:
Takibi Hirano (50 years old)
Riku Ono (29 years old)
Yui Kikuchi (55 years old)
Chapter 31
Jokers
It was late, probably one in the morning, and busy. The police brought bright searchlights into the once empty and dark garage. The yellow tape cordoning off the house and the red flashing lights of the police vehicles created a disco frenzy along the cracked, dry walls surrounding the body. Shinichi stood apart as inspectors and coroners examined the scene.
In a man's hands were the playing cards left behind by the victim. Haruto Shibata is his name. Although Shinichi had no idea what the victim looked like, Takagi-san was able to find a surviving member of the Shibata family by reviewing the database. A brother. Hinata Shibata, age 65.
He arrived a thin, wiry man with gray eyes and messy gray hair. As the Inspectors led him in, his eyes were filled with confusion and horror. Nearly an hour after arriving, Hinata sat unmoving, staring blankly at the playing cards Inspector Takagi had taken from Shinichi earlier. With his hands on his knees, he was adamant that the skeleton was not his brother.
"The last time I spoke to him was a week ago," Hinata said. Still unconvinced, the man allowed the Inspectors to take DNA samples. "He is a recluse," Hinata explained, "and has been for the past five years."
"Five?"
"Yes, he has not left the apartment. We had social workers check on him, and I called him occasionally. But this…this cannot be."
Still in denial, he couldn't see the truth. Shinichi understands. The shock of seeing a skeleton the police claimed to be a family member might be too surreal. Especially when you believe your brother to be alive and well.
"Edogawa-kun," Shiho called out. Her voice coming from the badge. The girl and the children are now seated in one of the police cars outside. Upon hearing her voice, the inspectors gave Shinichi a sideways glance as he turned his back on them. "The company Haruto Shibata owns is still running," she continued. "He is still listed as their CEO."
It was a strange case. Behind a wall was a skeleton said to be Haruto Shibata, who appeared to be alive by all accounts. "So, either the body belongs to someone else," Satou-san considered after hearing the information Shiho had painstakingly gathered on the internet, "or," she looked thoughtfully at Hinata Shibata. "We have a case of stolen identity."
"The latter, probably," Shinichi shivered slightly at the thought he had conjured up.
As the investigation around the garage draws to a close. Hinata Shibata leaves an hour later, agreeing to meet with the inspectors the following day.
"Ah!" Takagi examines the deck of cards Hinata had just passed to him. "He took the jokers."
"What!" Satou-san snatched the cards from Takagi and chided him. "How did you allow him to leave with evidence? "
"But—"
"It's no problem. We will meet with Hinata-san in a few hours," Shinichi replied as the inspectors looked at him. A sheepish expression appeared on their faces, followed by a reluctant acquiescence. The inspectors immediately secured the remaining cards in evidence bags.
With the skeleton bagged and sent to the forensic labs, Shinichi joined Satou-san and Takagi-san in a separate police car. The inspectors gave him a ride back to the professor's place.
Shiho was with the children in another car, returning a little later since the children had to be fetched home first.
"What are your thoughts, Kudou-kun?" Takagi asked.
Hearing his real name emerge from the man's mouth was strange, but it was welcomed nonetheless.
Not being treated like a child had its advantages. Now that Shinichi has gained the inspectors' trust, they allowed him to inspect the scene at his own pace. The inspectors shielded him from the other police officers observing him as he touched and examined the body. It was refreshing not to have to lie his way through situations or hide for once.
"It's too early to make speculations," Shinichi considered the clues. Skeletons locked behind a wall, cards left by a dead man, a dying message, stolen identities, and a recluse. A hikikomori. He frowned. There were holes in the puzzle that could not be connected.
"In any case, we should gather more evidence. It might be a good idea to follow Hinata Shibata to Haruto's apartment complex."
"You'll be aiding us with the investigations?" Satou-san asked, her eyes glowing with hope. Shinichi spotted the woman's faint exchange with Takagi.
Shinichi leaned against the leather seats of the police car.
"Yes, if you allow me, but I suspect there's more to this, isn't there?" He eyed them pointedly.
Takagi looked uncomfortably toward Shinichi.
"About that, Kudou-kun, if possible, could you bring Miyano-san along?" Satou-san started.
It was an odd request, and Shinichi raised a brow. "Why, though? I thought you guys did not want her... cooperation?"
"That was because..." Satou-san looks to Takagi for help.
"We just want to talk," Takagi added.
Shinichi relaxed as he sighed at the inspectors' pleading faces. "Fine," he replied. Smiles break across the lips of the inspectors as they share glances of relief.
"But she might ask for compensation."
"Eh?" Their eyes widened at his insinuation.
"You can't expect her to work for free," Shinichi commented.
"But—" Takagi started.
"I might ask for compensation too."
"Eh!"
Where was she? Running.
She was running with a ball in front of her. As the detective boys cheered around her, she kicked it. The children crowded around her as laughter filled the air. Ran and the professor stood by the side with broad smiles. The day was warm and carefree—almost perfect. The confident expression on Shinichi's face changed to a disgruntled frown as the soccer ball landed in the net behind him.
Shiho smirked as he folded his arms. "Satisfied, Haibara," he quipped as she shrugged.
"Are you satisfied, Sherry?" She gasped, glancing up to see him standing there. Silvery hair, golden eyes, a menacing scene she had banished to the back of her mind.
What was he doing here?
Gin rushed forward as paralyzing fear gripped her almost immediately. Hands grabbed her and slammed her against the bed. Shiho freezes when Vermouth appears. The blonde-haired demon's fingers wrapped around her neck as she squeezed. The pressure rising exponentially. Her head throbbed as she stared into the woman's unforgiving eyes. The harsh words she spoke dripped venom. "Hypocrite."
Screams rang out. Men and women are trapped in soundproof rooms, Shiho behind a glass wall. Body after body stacked neatly in a morgue, blank eyes staring back at her as she wrote feverishly. From within, bloodshot eyes stared out, pleading for her to stop. Hands circled her ankles, heavy as an anvil, like snakes hissing, growing taut. Once again, she was violently thrust into an abyss. A crow cawed in through the impenetrable darkness.
She was naked. A merciless ache tore through— between thighs. Nails dug into her skin as she cried out. His skin touches her fervently, forcing himself in. His taunts were accompanied by pictures strewn across the floor. From the void, victims of her creations screech. Gin presses down with the camera raised. A malicious glint in his eyes sent chills down Shiho's spine as he parted his lips to reveal sharp white teeth.
"Do you think you are innocent, Sherry?" The words stabbed like knives. A wave of guilt consumed her, sinking her into the shapeless shadows as Ando Masashi and Fumihito emerged. One poisoned, cursing as he died. One burnt—fate already decided.
"How can you go on?" they whispered, their voices resonating in a symphony of despair.
A hand pulled her out of the darkness. And she could breathe. Shinichi held her tightly. The children, the professor, and Ran were as well. The inspectors came from behind, along with her parents and Akemi. Shiho reached out to them when—
"Are you sure you deserve this?" Shinichi asked, his smile changing to one of disgust. The children screamed as blood smeared across her visage. The professor, Ran, and the inspectors turned away as the bodies emerged from within, grabbing at her ankles and wailing in agony. The bullet wound in her stomach grew, and Akemi shoved her backward. "You did this, Sherry."
No.
"This isn't right," Ryuu-san emerged. Green eyes pierce hers as his neck bends, changing into a reflection. Staring back, a woman dressed in a labcoat wrote with disregard, with indifference as they died in front of her. A cold-hearted human who did not care. Who regarded them as experiments—guinea pigs.
"Murderer."
Golden eyes pierce from within a murder of crows. Slamming Shiho against the wall, crimson scarlet seeped through the inescapable prison. They beckoned her—
"You belong with us, Sherry."
Glass broke against a solid surface. Shiho was startled by the sudden noise, panting as cold sweat formed on her body. She looked at the ground as her vision blurred. There was a blue liquid spilling from a smashed flask.
An experiment?
Slowly, Shiho regained her senses.
She was in the professor's basement and had been working on the antidote.
The night had been eventful. She remembered the skeleton behind the wall. And sending the children back to their parents. Having returned late, she finds Shinichi waiting for her by the foyer. The boy handed her a cup of tea.
They made small talk, bantering a bit, before retiring to their respective places. Shinichi headed to bed while she retreated to the basement. Shiho couldn't sleep— thoughts about the inspectors and their reaction to her replaying endlessly. Their presence served as an uncomfortable reminder. One that stuck like a sore thumb, reminding her of what she used to be.
She must have succumbed to exhaustion. Falling asleep, only waking when—
Shiho seethes, gritting her teeth. The nightmare replays in her psyche, and her heart races. Her body shudders with pain. Helpless once more, growing cold as she recalls Shinichi's disgusted look.
"It's not true," she reminded herself.
Despite that, it had felt so real.
She was dragged back to a dark past she didn't want to revisit.
Again, running away.
Shaking the thought away, Shiho gets up from her seat. Her lips curl into a bitter smirk. Stepping on the broken glass carelessly and cursing.
Not an ideal way to start a day.
She was halfway through clearing the mess when the basement doors burst open. Shinichi walked in with a smile she didn't like. His mischievous glint disappeared once he saw the mess she'd made. "What happened?" he asked, raising a finger in warning, "And don't say it's nothing."
Shiho ignored him. She returned to her task and swept the mess into a dustpan. "An accident, Kudou," she states. "It happens."
"Really?"
"Yes."
The boy sets down a mug on the table. Shiho smells coffee...and toast. Easy breakfast, he was learning to cook. He was becoming more proficient at household chores, helping when needed, and going out of his way to make her life easier. Shiho, once again unable to understand his kindness towards her.
"Do you think you deserve this?"
Snippets of a dream flashed past, and she held herself. Shiho dumps the broken glass into the bin while Shinichi watches skeptically.
"More nightmares," he deduced, and she furrowed her brow in irritation.
"No."
"Nightmares it is."
"Drop it," she recoiled when he reached for her. It burned—she could still feel Gin's touch. Her skin still bears the echoes of trauma. She could not conceal it, and Shinichi observed her with tightly pressed lips. "What is it?"
"Kudou," she was unwilling to share it with him or anyone else. "Drop it."
She was met with a sigh, and a toast was stuffed between her lips. The sudden intrusion choked her, and she folded her arms at Shinichi's childishness. "What was that for?" she asked between chewing.
"Energy for a stubborn fool."
She averts her gaze as they engage in familiar banter. Shinichi nags her for staying up later than she should. Shiho blames him for finding bodies behind walls—again.
Later, he forces her out of the basement. Wearing her usual Osaka cap and green hoodie, she followed Shinichi, who was trudging ahead. Shiho had no choice but to follow him, the boy holding her sleeve tightly as he dragged her forward. With every passing minute, Shiho, disgruntled and half-awake, became more annoyed and could only sigh as the wind rustled the leaves of the red-yellow maple leaves.
"Where are we going?" she asked for the tenth time. The detective flinched for a moment as he led them through a park. While he made half-ass excuses about the purpose of their sudden outing, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
They took a bus. Shinichi becomes more fidgety by the minute. His anxious nature made her nervous, and she made a mental note to reject him the next time he made an unplanned trip. "Don't tell me," she started as they exited the bus stop into a relatively posh neighborhood. "This is not what I think it is, Kudou," she placed her hands on her waist as he chuckled half-heartedly.
"Don't you want to figure it out?" he asked.
"It's a weekend."
"And?"
"I could be working on the antidote."
"Surely there are better things to do."
"And solving a crime is? I fail to see the difference," she snapped.
"Come on, we're partners, aren't we?" he grinned. Shiho is about to smack him when she spots them. Two ambushing inspectors—Satou-san and Takagi-san. They waved at Shinichi, who was glancing warily at them.
"Oh hell no," Shiho steps away from him as soon as she noticed them. Before she could leave, Shinichi grabbed her. Shiho slapped his hands away. "Give them a chance," he held up his hands in mock surrender as she glared at him.
"Are you blind, Kudou?" she growled, "I'm not exactly welcomed in their circle."
"Shiho, you're doing it again."
"What do you mean?" she seethes.
"I know it isn't easy, but you must try at least."
She was sick of trying, sick of his words. Sick of how easy he made it, how optimistic and hopeful he was—there were some things you could not change.
After all—anything can be broken.
Shiho closes her eyes tightly as his erratic, sinister voice reverberates in her ears.
"They requested it, Shiho," Shinichi revealed. "They would like to talk."
"Kudou," she groans.
I don't belong here. I am not worthy...the nightmares Shiho had cemented her views. The reactions they had to her were justified. It was just what she deserved. She was met with unrelenting azure blue eyes as Shinichi held her.
"Don't hide it from me."
"Let me go," she struggled to reconcile with his stubborn insistence.
"Shiho, I'm still here."
She hesitated.
"Trust me," Shinichi whispered.
"That's not fair, Shinichi," she murmured.
"Nothing is," he smiled gently, "Shiho."
She rubbed her temples, brows furrowed in annoyance. "I hate you."
"I know," his lips curve into a cocky grin.
"I really hate you," Shiho emphasized.
That sly look he was giving her, she wants to wipe it off. There was no point in using words. He had read her perfectly. She stomps childishly on his feet, and he yowls in pain. "Seriously! " He snapped as she gave him a satisfied nod. He was about to protest when she moved closer, tightening her grip on his existing hold. Shiho gathers her courage.
When the inspectors waved at them again, she asked, "Are we going to get paid?"
"I did ask for compensation," Shinichi chuckled.
"Well, you better. I ain't doing this for free."
"How much should we ask for?" He asked, leading them forward.
"200,000 Yen?"
"Per session?" he gasped at the amount.
"Per hour."
"Shiho…"
"Per minute."
"Ok, that's pushing it."
"I'm not joking."
"What's the joke?" Satou-san greeted them candidly. She wore a lopsided grin on her lips. While she tried to appear bright and cheerful, the bags under her eyes and twitching eyebrows told a different story.
"Good morning, Conan-kun...Ai-chan," Takagi comes up beside her. Equally as flustered. He hesitated for a moment, gaping slightly. "Or would you prefer Kudou-kun and Miyano-san?"
Standing awkwardly apart, the Inspectors shifted nervously in their positions. "Anything is fine, Satou-san. Takagi-san." Shinichi smiles.
"Oh."
"However, please refrain from using our real names in front of others," Shiho scoffed, the inspectors flinching.
She noticed but ignored it. "Unless you want to die," smirking bitterly. Takagi-san let out a gasp as Satou-san lips parted in shock.
"What she means," Shinichi interrupted. He stood before her, "Is that we are still being chased, so it is best to keep our identities a secret for the time being."
"I'm sure."
"Shiho," Shinichi warned, and she shrugged.
"So?" she released Shinichi. "What are we here for?"
"Well, we're meeting with Hinata Shibata," Takagi-san explained. The man making an attempt to ease the tense atmosphere that had developed. Shiho notices the inspector limping forward. Injuries he sustained three days earlier in the bomb blast had not healed yet.
"If I'm not wrong," he flips through his trusty notebook, stumbling as Satou-san caught him. "It should be just after this slope."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Shinichi sighed as Shiho proceeded forward, walking ahead.
"Hey Conan-kun," She heard the inspectors nervously whisper to the detective. "Is she still…?"
"You don't need to worry about her," the shrunken detective said, "she's just shy."
"That's shy?" Takagi asked skeptically.
"Seems more angry then—"
"Shy," Shinichi emphasized.
Shiho makes a mental note to kill him later.
As they walked, the apartments grew taller. Stylish in nature, the neighborhood was filled with high-end cafes and art boutiques. The pavement had no cracks, and the trees were neatly trimmed and manicured. The autumn winds swept red and yellow leaves through immaculate streets. There were clumps of leaf litter neatly piled up to one side, constantly maintained by cleaners who were forced to work weekends to earn a living.
Typical of a wealthy neighborhood. They eventually reached a bend leading up another slope. There, by the top, was a vintage-looking building. A strange sight in a modern neighborhood. A two-story open-concept residence that houses studio apartments. It was short, had cement walls worn from age, and vines growing around its sides. Bushes were blooming with small white flowers by its side. Though old, it held a certain antique charm.
"Haruto Shibata's apartment," Takagi replied. "He should be living in that room," the man pointed to a brown oak wood door on the second floor with dying plants.
They waited for what seemed like an eternity. Satou-san returns with some drinks from a nearby cafe. The woman complained about the exorbitant prices. Apparently, the cost of coffee here was ten times higher than usual. Shiho reluctantly accepted the hot chocolate handed to her as they sat by the side benches. "He's late," Takagi said. It's been an hour, and it was cold. Winds whipping past do nothing to alleviate the situation.
"Are you sure you've reminded him?" Satou-san rubs her hands continuously down her arms to warm herself up. Snot dripped from Shinichi's nose as he sneezed. He wore only a thin sweater, and she frowned at him.
"It's going to be five degrees today," she said.
"I forgot."
"How does one forget to wear a coat?" she nags as he rubs his hands together, sneezing again.
"I was preoccupied with other matters, okay."
Shiho sighs.
Removing her scarf, she wrapped it around him.
"Wait, Shiho, I don't need—"
"Take it," she insisted.
"What about you?"
"That's for my benefit," she interrupted, "If you get sick, I'll have to take care of you."
Shinichi frowned at her statement before reaching for the scarf with a toothy grin on his face.
"Thanks."
"Whatever," she snorts as he chuckles.
Shiho catches the inspectors looking at their exchange curiously, and she looks away.
"Hinata-san is certainly taking his time," Takagi-san remarked an hour later. Shiho, with arms folded and feet tapping the ground— was at her limit.
"Maybe we should give him a call?" Satou-san suggested.
"I did, but he isn't answering."
"That's it," Shiho snapped. Before anyone could stop her, she was marching up the metal stairs leading to the apartment. Shinichi and the inspectors trailed behind her. Turning the door handle, she tried to open it. It was locked as expected, and she pushed, slightly frustrated, before pulling out some paper clips from her pocket.
"Whatever happened to patience?" Shinichi asked when she squatted before the lock.
"I'm not waiting another hour," Shiho declared.
"This is illegal," Takagi protested when she began fiddling with it.
"We need clearance to enter the apartment; you can't just break in," Satou-san replied sternly.
The irony of the statement was not lost on her, and she stopped. Facing the inspectors, she smiled sweetly. "Well, I guess you can add this to my list of crimes," she remarked as they gawked at her.
"Shiho!" Shinichi groaned as she focussed back on the lock. The frustration taking root. She knew she was being difficult, even childish. But, the sentiment stuck.
As the lock clicked, the door creaked open. It was dark inside, and the smell hit them first. There was rubbish everywhere. A sea of plastic bags containing litter and food waste. Shiho wrinkled her nose at the sight of dead insects and lizard feces on the ground. Letters stuffed into the door post slits were not collected and piled up by the entrance.
"W…what is this," Takagi-san asked, flabbergasted by the repulsive stench. Shinichi reaches for the light switch, which surprisingly works. "I guess he wasn't living in total depravity," Shinichi muttered. The boy makes his way in first. She had second thoughts but followed suit. The house hasn't been cleaned for a long time. Rubbish fell over, and Shiho could hardly see the tatami floors beneath it. After passing through a short corridor, they made their way into what appeared to be a living room. Takagi slides open the decrepit yellowed paper-screened door to reveal another pile of garbage and a coffee table covered in clothes and plastic green tea bottles. There were stacks of newspapers to the side that were rotting away.
"Hinata-san was right," Shinichi noted, "The victim was really a recluse."
"It can't be," Takagi picks up one of the newspapers dated and published just a week ago.
"The skeleton in the wall is Haruto Shibata," Satou-san pushed away another pile of plastic bags. "Whoever is living here is a—"
"Imposter," Shinichi muttered.
"No one is in the bedroom," Satou-san announced later. Having checked the kitchen, the living room, and the kitchen of the three-room private studio, they found no sign of life. Shiho turns to the last locked door. "The bathroom?" Takagi-san asked. Shinichi turned the knob, but it didn't budge.
"Let me," Satou-san tried it next, followed by Takagi. The door wouldn't budge.
"Anybody in there!" Satou-san bangs on it.
"Funny, it doesn't seem like it's locked," Takagi remarked.
Shinichi turned the knob again and pushed it. Satou-san shooed them away, the woman raising a heel before kicking it. The door rattled, and it remained shut. Satou-san did it again as Takagi tried to hold her back. The woman seemingly forgetting that she was an inspector about to damage private property.
"I thought you needed clearance to do that," Shiho snorted sarcastically.
"What are you doing?!" From the entrance, a sharp voice echoed. A rather plump woman was walking through the mess, gasping in horror. Wearing a pink floral dress, she bumbled through the plastic bags, her brown chestnut eyes widening as she viewed the rubbish-filled scene. "What are you doing on my property!"
"You live here?" Satou-san asked.
"No, but I own this building!" the woman snapped.
"The landlady," a young man standing beside her responded on her behalf. He wore punk rock clothing. His nose was adorned with nose studs. Bald, he had a series of tattoos down his neck. His black motorcycle leather jacket completed his gangster style perfectly.
"And who are you?" Takagi asked.
"I'm the social worker for Haruto-san," he glanced at the garbage and plastic bags around with concern. The condition and state of the apartment seemed to surprise him.
"You're names?" Satou-san demanded.
"No, no, not our names. Who are you!" the landlady exclaimed.
She stopped when she saw the inspectors whipping out their badges. "Police?" asked the social worker, confused. "What are the police doing in Haruto-san's apartment?"
"We could say the same for you," Satou-san replied.
"I am here to collect rent," the landlady explained. "Riku-kun is here to help me correspond with Shibata-san."
"Yes, you see, he doesn't speak to anyone else."
"Wait, you've talked to Haruto Shibata-san?" Takagi asked.
"Yes, on multiple occasions. I have to. It's my job."
"But—"
"Did you actually see him?" Shinichi interrupted Takagi's questioning, and the social worker shook his head. "I was not allowed into Haruto-san's apartment. He's stubborn like that. I have tried to persuade him to come out multiple times, but he refuses. Kikuchi-san has tried too, but he doesn't want to talk to her."
"As long as he pays rent, I'm fine," the landlady snapped, "To be honest, this is the first time any of us have ever been in his apartment."
The woman pinched her nose with disgust. "I cannot believe how filthy it is! What has he been doing!"
"So you haven't seen him?" Shinichi confirmed. After studying the shrunken detective for a moment, the social worker nodded. "I understand the inspectors' presence, but...why are there children here?" he asked.
"Never mind that," Takagi-san said as Satou-san shielded them from Kikuchi-san and Riku-san's curious gaze. "We need your help to locate Haruto-san, and we believe he is," Takagi pointed to a locked door they couldn't open. Shiho watched as the landlady and social worker navigated the mess. Their discomfort was evident, Kikuchi-san shrieking as she stepped on a dead insect. To avoid dirtying his leather shoes, the social worker walked carefully.
As Riku-san reached for the handle, he turned it before stumbling, tripping over a bottle. The man falls face first, hitting the door rather hard. He groaned. Shinichi and the inspectors rush over in surprise. Kikuchi-san let out a horrified scream. Falling back, the woman displaced some of the plastic containers containing rotten maggot-filled foods.
"Haruto-san!" Riku-san cried out. Shiho approached the scene and was greeted by a faint stench of bitter almonds. Looking into the room, she froze.
There, seated on the toilet bowl, was the unmistakable corpse of Hinata Shibata.
"What are you talking about?" exclaimed Riku Ono, a 29-year-old social worker. Clearly disturbed, he couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. The file he was holding contained an image of Hinata Shibata. For five years, he had been caring for and helping Haruto Shibata, a social recluse who had been unable to leave his home. "I was assigned to him, and it is clear that the person we found is Haruto Shibata," Riku declared. The inspectors exchanged glances between themselves.
"I'm sorry, Ono-san," Satou-san broke the news gently to the man, who gawked. "Unfortunately, the man you have been interacting with is Hinata Shibata, Haruto-san's brother."
"That can't be," Riku stumbled back into his parked motorcycle. He slumped against the seat, hand covering his mouth. They were now standing outside the apartment, which was now a hive of activity. Deputies and coroners alike bustled in and out, inspecting the body inside. There was yellow tape encircling the scene, and a crowd was gathered beyond, glancing at it from a distance. Shiho moved behind Shinichi as they accompanied the inspectors who were questioning the people involved with Haruto Shibata.
"In the past years, I had been helping him. He told me he was Haruto-san. Although we have never met in person. Based on the glimpse I caught of him and the photo provided by the charity organization I worked for as a reference, I assumed it was him."
His shock was understandable. After all, being misled and lied to for five years will leave quite a lasting impression on the psyche. Riku was still reeling from the implications of the incident. The inspectors had to repeat themselves twice for him to finally get the gist of the situation.
"So you are telling me that I have been helping his brother all this time? What happened to the real Haruto-san, then? "
"We can't reveal much right now, but his skeleton was found behind the wall," Takagi informed the man. "The plan was to inspect Haruto's apartment today with Hinata-san, but as you can see—"
"He's dead."
It was almost too convenient a coincidence. The incident portrays Hinata Shibata in a poor light.
"Kudou-kun," Satou pulls Shiho and Shinichi aside while Takagi took Riku's statements down. "What do you think of this case?"
"If we take Ono-san's words to heart," he turns to Shiho, who shrugged.
"Then, logically speaking, Hinata-san probably killed Haruto-san and, for the past five years, has been impersonating his brother. But," Shiho folded her arms and glanced at him. "Like all great hound dogs, you've noticed something amiss, haven't you?"
"Are you insulting or praising me?"
"You can choose. I'm not picky."
"In other words, this is a suicide?" Satou-san was amused by their interaction.
"No, and yes, we can't rule anything out yet, and besides—"
Shinichi pulls out his phone and shows the woman the picture he took of Hinata's body. It was blurry, the photo taken haphazardly because Takagi had rushed them out. However, stuffed inside the man's pocket were the unmistakable playing cards that Hinata-san had taken hours before.
"The jokers," Satou-san whispered.
"Yes, in his pockets. As if," Shinichi hypothesized, "he's trying to tell us something."
Shiho sighed heavily. "You should have stayed home," she poked.
"Becoming a hermit doesn't stop murders," Shinichi presented her with the photo. "What's your take on this? I'm sure you've figured out the cause of death by now."
"Am I your personal forensics expert, Kudou," she inched forward as Shinichi smirked. "He died from poison," Shiho stated.
"Oh?" Satou-san asked.
Shiho gestures to Shinichi's photo of Hinata-san. "There was the faint smell of almonds," she started, "A clear indication of Cyanide poisoning. A painful experience. Dizziness, nausea, and headaches are the first symptoms. More severe cases may result in convulsions, loss of consciousness, and eventually death due to respiratory failure."
"He was found slumped over the toilet bowl in a relaxed position without any signs of struggle," Shinichi exchanged glances with Shiho. "Well, conclusively, and this is just speculation, but I've got a feeling Hinata-san didn't just kill himself."
"So, what exactly is the right answer?"
"We have to figure that out," Shinichi turns to Shiho, giving her his sweetest grin, and she raised a hand to stop him. "No, no, and whatever you are going to ask, no, no, I refuse, nada, nope."
"I haven't asked."
"And I've given my answer."
"Well—" he was interrupted by frantic cries beyond the yellow tape. A man dressed in a business suit stood before them. He wore old-fashioned spectacles, had graying hair, and was rather tall. Grasping a leather case, he argued with the police controlling the crowds. Observing the man's mannerisms and actions, Shinichi grabs Satou-san.
"Let him in."
"What? Why?"
"Because he probably belongs to Haruto-san's company," Shinichi explained. As soon as the woman realized it, she ordered the police to let the man through. The man rushed over to them, running his fingers through his gelled-back hair. "What happened? What is this about Haruto-san being murdered?"
"Who are you, and what is your purpose?" Shinichi asks the man who glanced at him with alarm and confusion.
"What? What does a kid have to do with this?" He looks indignantly at the inspectors. Takagi approached Satou-san while they studied the newcomer from head to toe.
"The boy is a witness," Takagi excused lamely, "and we need your identity, so please introduce yourself."
The man hesitated for a moment, Shinichi noting his nervous manner. As if hiding something, his gaze shifted between them.
"Too obvious?" Shiho joked, and he eyed her.
"Takibi Hirano. I'm Haruto's business partner," the man introduced.
"He even has a motive."
"You just want it to end, don't you?"
"It's a weekend, Kudou," she reiterated, pointing to the clouds drifting above. A surprisingly lovely autumn day despite morbid circumstances.
"You'll spend it in the basement anyway," he argued.
"It would be a more productive use of my time if you ask me," Shiho muttered while he ignored her and turned back to Takibi-san. Shiho was right. He was acting suspiciously. Fidgetiness combined with nervousness painted him in a negative light. The inspectors took an interest in the leather case he was holding tightly around his chest.
"How is Haruto dead? Did he kill himself?" Takibi asked.
Shinichi raised his eyebrows in response. "How would you know?"
"He did!" Takibi's lips parted in disbelief. "Unbelievable," he became more agitated, "for years, I have been running this company on my own and sending him monthly financial reports. Allowing him the benefit of the doubt since he remained inside his apartment. I even got a social worker to check on him, and now you're telling me my efforts were for naught! "
"You've been running his company?" Takagi asked.
"Yes, everything, from financial records to procurement. Over the last five years. That fateful day, Haruto called me suddenly to say he would be working from home. Just like that, he stuck to it. He would run the company behind the scenes despite my pleas or actions. Making weird, incomprehensible decisions. I was going to meet with him today to discuss our company's state, but—"
Takibi gestured wildly at the scene before. "I never expected to find this!"
"Financial problems, huh," Shinichi muttered. Takibi cursed. He finally released the catch from the leather case and opened a file. Within it was a series of statistics and graphs. An overview of the company's financials. "I am not lying, and if you require an alibi, I can provide it."
"You were never considered the suspect," Shinichi told him as he paused.
"You said it was a suicide," Satou-san watched him intently. "When did you turn it into a murder?"
"Wait, it was a leap of logic," Takibi said, "I mean, judging by the way the police have gathered, you would think..." he looked to the ground for a moment. "Even though Haruto-san and I aren't on good terms now, I still care about him. I wouldn't hurt him."
"It is always the victims' closest allies who turn out to be the culprits in murder cases," Shiho snorts. "Last I checked, 43% of America's murders were committed by family members."
Shinichi covered her lips with her hand before she could say anything else. Takibi's eyes widened in horror as the inspectors glanced at her warily.
"I will never harm my friend," he insisted vehemently again, and Shinichi gave Shiho a warning glance.
Takibi was questioned by the inspectors again. Mundane questions about his whereabouts, his relationship with the victim, and what he had been doing for the past five years. Shinichi ponders what he just learned.
Playing cards. Jokers. Last messages. Social workers. A case of stolen identity. Suicide. Brothers. A skeleton— found behind a wall. Haruto-san. Hinata-san, and—a smirk appeared on his lips. The theories fit together neatly like a puzzle. Nevertheless, they were only speculations, and he needed assistance.
"No," Shiho repeated again when he looked at her.
Shinichi pointed to the inspectors still questioning a dejected Takibi-san.
"They offered payment."
"No."
"Please, Shiho, for me."
"Did you really think that will work?" she snapped.
He made puppy dog expressions, which he had seen Ayumi use before. Putting his hands together, he pouted slightly, and she glared at him with folded arms. "Kudou, that doesn't work on me."
"Pretty please, with a cherry on top and 200,000 yen from Takagi-san."
"What!" the inspector cried, having heard the last of their conversation, "I didn't agree to that!"
Shiho seemingly considered the amount.
"Three," she finalized. Shinichi looked to the inspectors, who gaped at their discussion.
"300,000 Yen!"
"Deal," Shiho said.
She shook Shinichi's hand, and he turned to look smugly at the pale-faced inspectors.
"So, corpse magnet," Shinichi frowned as she asked, "What do you want from me?"
"About that," he gestured to the inspectors. "I would like you to examine Haruto-san's financial records. Check for discrepancies. Takagi-san will assist you."
At his request, the girl paused. Shinichi could see her apprehension and tensed shoulders as she glanced at the inspectors before turning back to him. "Not alone? But with…him?"
"Yes, is there a problem?"
"No."
"Shiho…"
Curse those puppy dog eyes. Shiho grumbled inwardly as she sat in Hirano Takibi-san's car. Takagi-san was giving frequent glances beside her, and she could only deal with the discomfort. A situation that bloody corpse magnet had forced her into.
"Pretty please," Shinichi had begged for an impossibly long time. Shiho finally conceded when he stared at her with the eyes Ayumi often used on her.
Curse those puppy dog eyes. She let her weakness and his request get the better of her, and now she was heading silently towards Haruto's company.
"So?" Takibi glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "May I ask," he hesitated, his gaze falling to hers. "But why is a little girl assisting an inspector in his investigations?"
"She's a witness," Takagi said rather quickly, the excuse lacking any logical foundation, "I need her help with some of the information."
"A seven-year-old?"
"Nine," Shiho corrected as Takibi blinked.
"That doesn't make any difference."
"True," Shiho leans into the seat, "I sometimes question it myself."
Takagi laughed nervously before changing the subject. Inquiring about Takibi-san and the company Haruto had established with him.
"Haruto-san had always wanted to own a bookstore," Takibi explained, "so about thirty years ago, we decided to try our hand at it."
"Oh, what kind of books?" Takagi asked.
"Well, it's mostly a stationary shop now. However, as times change, it seems digital books are the way to go. Our shop, though, had been doing pretty well before the decline. As a matter of fact, Haruto and I could probably retire if we so desired."
"And you didn't?"
"Like I said, Haruto had a passion for what he did and wanted to carry it on for as long as possible. So, you can only imagine my shock when…"
Takibi trailed off, swallowing before he continued, "When he became a recluse and decided to wash his hands off company affairs."
"Nobody questioned him?" Shiho interrupts.
"I did," Takibi recalled, "I fought with him over the phone many times. He had made rash decisions, spent money like crazy, and bought assets we didn't need. Sometimes," he held his breath, shaking his head. "I will let the reports speak for themselves," he concludes.
The ride descends back into disconcerting silence. At some point, Takibi pulls into a relatively busy street. Shiho recognizes the store in front. The shop was Shinichi's favorite for its large selection of mystery and detective novels. It never occurred to her that the shop might be owned by the victim himself.
Takibi leads the group through rows of dusty oak wood shelves in the antique-styled store. Dimly lit with warm orange light, the red carpet and leather seating areas look inviting. The scene changed as soon as they entered the staff rooms. Bright white light fills the modern setting, revealing four cubicles. An anxious woman, probably a staff member, rushes forward to Takibi and demands to know what is happening. She was in her late forties, and Takibi had difficulty calming her down.
"Sit by the guest room," Takibi instructed them, "and I'll gather the files."
Moving past the frantic woman, the man pointed to a small private enclave by the side. Shiho was about to make her way in when Takagi tripped. The inspector having difficulty maneuvering through the tight spaces. Shiho catches him.
"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed as he realized what had happened, about to pull away when she held him.
"Stop moving, and let me help you," she commanded.
"But," the inspector was clearly uncomfortable with their proximity.
"Takagi-san," she stated, "I might be from the organization, but I can help at least." Eyes lingering over his bandaged ankle. The guilt emerges once more.
"Sorry," she murmured inaudibly. The words escaped her lips unwittingly. Apparently, having heard her, the inspector stopped. Glancing at her solemnly. Turning away from him, she walked forward, supporting his weight.
Shiho wouldn't admit it, but his reaction did sting.
"I won't bite, don't worry," she continued, about to lead him forward when—
"Ai-chan." Takagi said gently, "We know."
He leaned lightly against her, allowing Shiho to hold him. "Despite…everything," Takagi hesitated.
She glanced at him enquiringly. "Just give us a moment to adjust," he told her as they entered the private guest room.
"It's not every day we see children morph into adults, and it's still pretty shocking to us."
Shiho snorted at his statements. It baffled her, though.
Were they not afraid? Angry? Blaming her for the deaths of the hostages?
"Oh, and Ai-chan," he added.
"What?"
"For protecting Satou-san from that blast," Takagi faced her. Shiho—rendered speechless by his soft smile.
"Thank you."
Takibi, Takagi- the number of times I got confused and wrote the wrong name was astounding. (Why the hell did I choose that name in the first place...) I hope you enjoyed this chapter :D Thank you for all your kind reviews and feedback.
As for a review asking whether the other characters in Detective Conan would appear, all I have to say is (wait for Arc 3 *wink wink*) Again, thank you, and see you in the next one.