5
“I've spent the past four hours sitting in this room, going over everything I've seen and heard. That's why I'm ready to go out and gather more clues via crime scene investigation and questioning witnesses to solve the mystery of this horrifically fascinating case, Yuma.”
Tsukiyo said that with her index finger raised, looking at him with amusement. After declaring themselves partners, Tsukiyo and Yuma had left the Fifth room and headed down to the first floor.
When Yuma didn't respond, Tsukiyo stopped walking down the stairs and turned back to look at him in puzzlement.
“What's wrong, Yuma?”
“No, I'm just confused why you're suddenly calling me by my first name...”
“Hm? Does that bother you?”
Tsukiyo asked, tilting her head.
“I mean, yeah, a little.”
Yuma was taken aback by how quickly she'd turned around on him and mumbled as much.
“When a great detective calls their partner by their name, they always act all friendly. Holmes didn't call Dr. Watson 'Dr. Watson', he called him 'my dear Watson'. Mitarai Kiyoshi always calls Ishioka 'Kazumi'. I'm only following in my predecessors' footsteps.”
“I think you're reading a bit too much into Holmes and Watson's relationship. Besides, Ishioka Kazumi's naming scheme was a translation decision. In the original Japanese, Mitarai called him 'Ishioka-kun'.”
Yuma felt exhausted. Tsukiyo clapped her hands, producing a crisp sound that echoed off the glass walls.
“Yes, and in the original Japanese version of this scene, I called you 'Ichijou-kun'. Look, it's either this or I call you 'my dear Ichijou'.”
“...Yuma is fine.”
“Excellent. And please, call me 'Tsukiyo'. The Watson always calls the detective by their first name.”
“No, that's a bit much... I'll keep calling you Ms. Aoi.”
“But why?”
Tsukiyo pouted.
“Look, I'm just not comfortable calling a woman by her first name. People will look at me weird. As partners, I'd like to wait until we've built up a relationship of trust.”
Tsukiyo stroked her chin and said “Hmm...”
“I suppose it would be bad if my Watson was viewed as a rude man. I suppose I'll have to put up with it for now. But I'll make you call me 'Tsukiyo' some day, mark my words.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Yuma nodded hesitantly, and Tsukiyo turned on her heel and began marching back down the stairs, triumphantly declaring “Let's go, Yuma.” Yuma sighed and followed her.
As soon as they arrived on the first floor, Tsukiyo ran for the dining room.
The dining room, the scene of Oita's murder, was still flooded with water. When Tsukiyo stepped through the door, Yuma heard faint splashes beneath her leather shoes.
Yuma followed her into the dining room and stood frozen in the entryway. He had been so confused earlier that he hadn't been able to look carefully around, but now that he had time to take in the scene, he was overwhelmed by the sinister atmosphere emanating from the red puddle where Oita had collapsed and the large letters written in blood on the tablecloth.
Tsukiyo, however, showed no signs of hesitation as she made her way through the dining room.
“Um, Ms. Aoi? Is it okay for us to go in there? Earlier, Mr. Kagami told us not to disturb the scene...”
Tsukiyo scowled for a fraction of a second when she heard him still calling her “Ms.”
“I'm just worried that he'll complain again.”
“Maybe he will. But there's no point in worrying about that.”
Tsukiyo shook her head.
“I told you before. Police investigations are basically human wave tactics that rely solely on manpower. In the current situation where the police won't arrive for two more days, there's no point in worrying about them. When it comes to finding the truth behind a unique crime like this, my investigation, which is worth more than a thousand policemen's, takes top priority.”
After explaining that as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, Tsukiyo crouched down near where Oita had collapsed and placed her face right to the red puddle on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
Yuma approached, and Tsukiyo beckoned him to crouch next to her.
“I can smell petroleum here.”
Yuma went “Huh?” and knelt next to her, concentrating on his nose. Just as she said, a pungeant smell was faintly coming from the floor.
“Something was poured on Mr. Oita's body,” Yuma muttered to himself.
Tsukiyo stood up and looked around the dining room.
“It was probably the kerosene from the heaters. Let's check it.”
Tsukiyo checked the fuel tanks of the heaters set around the dining room one by one. “Here!” she exclaimed as she took the tank out of the fourth heater.
“The other heaters all have plenty of fuel, but this one is almost empty. The culprit poured the kerosene from this tank on Mr. Oita's body.”
Tsukiyo held the fuel tank up to her face.
“But this is a pretty big tank. I don't think it would be this empty if it was only poured on Mr. Oita.”
After returning the tank, Tsukiyo closed her eyes and staggered around as though she was being pulled by her finely sculpted nose.
“There's kerosene smell here, too.”
Tsukiyo opened her eyes in front of the table, leaned over with both hands on the wet tablecloth, and brought her face up to the words “SPIRITED AWAY FROM CHOGATAKE” scrawled in blood on the center.
“Here.”
Tsukiyo tapped the letters “TED”. Those three letters had been scorched by the fire and were difficult to read.
“What's there?”
Yuma asked, and Tsukiyo pointed at her nose. The smell of kerosene tickled Yuma's nostrils.
“So kerosene was poured there, too?”
“It looks that way. Well, if the culprit was planning to burn this room, or even worse, burn down the whole tower and kill everyone inside, that's an obvious choice. It would make the fire much more intense. In fact, the flames in this room instantly turned into pillars of fire that rose up near the ceiling. That's why the sprinklers were able to react so quickly and put it out right away.”
Tsukiyo pointed to the sprinkler on the ceiling directly above “TED” and muttered
“But... Did the culprit really intend to burn Mr. Oita's corpse?”
“What do you mean?”
Tsukiyo turned around and looked back at the bloody words.
“Look at this artistic – er, this horrible display. It's clear the culprit wanted us to see the writing in blood. And yet, for some reason, they left it on the tablecloth, which would be the first thing to burn in the fire. If they really wanted us to see it, they should have written it on the wall, or maybe outside of the dining room entirely. A message written in blood will leave an impact no matter where it's found.”
Tsukiyo looked down and lowered her voice.
“The crime scene is contradictory. It looks like the culprit wanted to burn it and not burn it simultaneously. What does that mean...?”
“Was there some reason the writing had to be on the tablecloth...?”
Yuma asked himself, and Tsukiyo suddenly screamed
“That's it!”
Yuma stepped back in shock.
“As expected of my Watson, you have a sharp eye. Yes, if we can realize why that is, we'll surely come closer to the truth of this case.”
“T-That's good.”
“For now, I can't say if the culprit poured kerosene on the body because they wanted to burn it, or if they just wanted me to think that. However, if they did genuinely intend to burn the body, there may have been some evidence on it they didn't want found. Is there any way we can sneak into the Tenth room and examine Mr. Oita's body?”
“That would be difficult. Mr. Kagami is dedicated to making sure nobody touches the body, and the master key that can open the Tenth room is in the safe.”
“...Yuma, you have one of the keys to the safe, right? In that case, all we need is Mr. Kuruma's key.”
A villainous smile spread across Tsukiyo's face.
“What are you saying? We decided to have that key locked away so nobody could access it for everyone's peace of mind. Besides, there's no way Mr. Kuruma would ever give it to us.”
“That's fine, I'll just steal it. I'm confident I can pickpocket as well as a professional.”
Tsukiyo flexed her right hand.
“And why does a great detective know how to pick pockets?”
“It's because I'm a great detective. Criminal investigations require a variety of skills. Not only pickpocketing, but tracking, hacking, handling hazardous materials, and so on. I'm well versed in all of them. If I wanted to, I could make a remote detonation device out of things in this tower.”
“That's cool. I'm still not giving you my key. You're going to get us into trouble again.”
If it was discovered that Yuma and Tsukiyo had taken out the master key, the others would suspect them. Yuma wanted to avoid that at all costs.
“Alright, alright, fine.”
Tsukiyo slipped past Yuma and made for the entrance. Yuma watched her walk away, then suddenly shoved his hand in his jacket pocket. The key was gone.
“Hold on!”
Tsukiyo stopped in her tracks, turned her head back, and stuck out her tongue, holding the key next to her face.
“Oh, too bad. You caught me.”
“I'm not letting you take it.”
As he hurried over to take the key back, Tsukiyo slapped him on the back.
“Don't get so angry, Watson, it was just a joke. Anyway, let's confront the biggest mystery in Mr. Oita's case.”
“The biggest mystery?”
Yuma frowned, and Tsukiyo spread her arms out wide.
“The locked room, of course! Ever since the publication of The Murders in the Rue Morgue, countless locked room mysteries have been created. The locked room is the king of tricks. And how was this locked room created? As a great detective, I can't help but feel so moved that I tingle all over at the thought of being allowed to tackle such a mystery.”
“You didn't get this excited about Mr. Kozushima's case.”
“Of course not. Mr. Kozushima was poisoned; it would have been easy for the culprit to kill him without being in the room. Moreover, as I explained this morning, it was a locked room that could have been created with an extremely simple trick. But Mr. Oita's case is different.”
The corners of her mouth turned up.
“Based on what was left at the crime scene, the culprit murdered Mr. Oita right here, left behind a message written in blood, and then used some sort of trick to lock the dining room door from the outside. Not only that, but a fire started in the locked room well after the culprit left, and we don't know how. Don't you think it sounds like a fantastic locked room?”
Yuma let out a sound that could have been an agreement or just a sigh. He couldn't understand the mind of the woman who called murders “fantastic”.
This great detective was just like the Glass Tower – twisted.
“How was this locked room created? Without solving that, we won't be able to uncover the culprit's true identity. That's what I believe. Which is why we need to thoroughly examine this door. Yuma, take a look.”
Completely oblivious to Yuma's judgmental look, Tsukiyo beckoned him over and ran a finger along the edges of the door Yuma and the others had broken down a few hours ago.
“There's nothing unusual about the edges of the door. That rules out the possibility the door was sealed with glue or anything like that. And as I said before, there's no sign that it was blocked in any way. This door doesn't have a keyhole, just the rotating latches used to lock it from the inside, so there's no need to worry about the possibility of duplicate keys. In short, it's reasonable to assume the reason we couldn't open the door is because of the broken latch.”
Tsukiyo pointed to the lower of the two rotating latches on the wall next to the entrance.
“Like this lower latch, it appears to be a simple lock that you rotate to hook onto a protrusion on the door. It's been oiled regularly, so it moves easily.”
Tsukiyo flicked the latch, and it moved smoothly.
“Now, how can this be locked from the outside?”
Placing two fingers to her lips, Tsukiyo leaned forward to stare at the latch until her forehead almost touched it.
“I thought they must have used a string trick.”
Tsukiyo gave Yuma a cold side-eye.
“Such as?”
“S-Such as...”
“No, please, tell me how the culprit was able to rotate this latch, which has no edges for a string to hook onto, a full 270 degrees to reach the protrusion on the door.”
“Well, that's...”
Tsukiyo stood up straight and brought her handsome face up to the stammering Yuma's.
“As I've already explained, considering that no smoke or water leaked out into the hall, it's pretty much impossible to pass any tool through the gap after the door was closed. But if the door was closed with the string already in place, it might just be possible to pull it from the outside. So can you tell me where to hook it and which way to pull the string to close the latch from the outside?”
Tsukiyo reached into her suit pocket and pulled out a bundle of thin thread.
“Why do you have that?”
“For investigations, of course. Needle and thread tricks are the basis of locked rooms. I always carry this around with me, just in case I encounter a crime scene in need of investigating.”
Tsukiyo bit the thread with her teeth until it was cut into several pieces of a dozen centimeters each, then handed them to Yuma, saying “Here you go.”
“Even if you tell me that...”
Yuma took the string and hesitantly tried to hook it to the latch. However, the smooth, polished latch ended in a rounded tip, so it was difficult to keep the thread from slipping off. It was hard to imagine it could be pulled 270 degrees around with the door closed.
“In that case, then... Set it up like this, balance it, then attach the thread...”
Yuma tried to balance the latch vertically upright and keep it there. However, the latch moved so easily that no matter how many times he tried, the moment he let go, gravity began to pull it down one way or the other.
“It doesn't look like it's working,” Tsukiyo said.
“Just give me a second! How about this, then? Put it like this, then put something between the latch and the door.”
Yuma grabbed the latch and leaned it slightly towards the door facing upright.
“Then they hooked the thread to the thing placed there and pulled it from the outside. The thing was knocked away, and the force of gravity made the latch fall into place. That's got to be it.”
“And what was the 'thing'?”
Once again, Tsukiyo asked coldly, and Yuma went “Huh?”
“You're right that would make it possible to set the latch. But what did they put between the latch and the door? I didn't find anything there. And I kept an eye on what everyone did after the door was broken down, so I can say that nobody retrieved it, either.”
Yuma stammered for a moment before Tsukiyo kept pressing him.
“In the first place, I can tell you from experience that if a door doesn't have any gaps large enough to let out even smoke, the string will probably get caught and not be able to move. Plus, with most tricks with string or thread, you can see traces on the lock or the door if you look closely. But no matter how hard I look, I can't find any such traces. In other words, I don't think this door was locked with a string trick.”
Tsukiyo gave a proud puff, as if to announce that her proof was complete.
“Then do you know how the culprit locked the dining room, Ms. Aoi?”
Tsukiyo's smug attitude irritated Yuma, so he asked bitterly.
“No, not yet.”
Tsukiyo brought her hand back to her mouth. A mysterious smile was faintly visible beyond it.
“This isn't a simple locked room... The trick behind it must be unimaginable. As a great detective, it's my duty to find it. I've been waiting for a case like this for a long time. Yes, a long, long time...”
Yuma felt a chill in his spine as Tsukiyo chuckled. He took a step back.
“What's wrong, Yuma?”
Tsukiyo's question was innocently curious. The dangerous aura that had been floating around her face only a moment ago was gone. Yuma looked at Tsukiyo as calmly as he could and said
“Nothing. Why?”
That abnormal obsession with being a great detective... What had driven her to this point?
“Well, that's alright, then. Anyway, I've confirmed most of what I needed to, so I think we can go now.”
Tsukiyo turned to leave the dining room.
“Already? Don't we still need to solve the locked room?”
Yuma's eyes bugged out, and Tsukiyo raised one corner of her thin lips in a sarcastic half-smile. It was a cynical expression that suited her handsome face.
“Yuma, it's too early to develop a theory. First, we need to gather as much information as we can, so our theory will have a solid base. No matter how beautiful and artistic a construct is, if it doesn't have a solid foundation, it may as well be built on sand.”
“So, what information do we need next?”
“The basis of investigation is the same for policemen and great detectives. Once the crime scene investigation is concluded, the next step is to gather testimony from the witnesses. So for now, let's go to the game room.”
Tsukiyo went on with high spirits. When she entered the game room, Kuruma and Sakyo were sitting on the sofa by the fireplace wearing tired expressions.
“Oh, Ms. Aoi, Dr. Ichijou.” Kuruma was the first to notice them and raised one hand. “What are you two doing here? Tired of staying in your rooms?”
“I've finally got my Watson, so now we're investigating together.”
“Watson?”
Kuruma frowned.
“Yes, this is my Watson, Yuma.”
Having been loudly introduced as such by Tsukiyo, Yuma embarrassedly lowered his head and muttered “Hello.”
“I've already met Dr. Ichijou, but... What are you talking about?”
Ignoring the confused look on Sakyo's face, Kuruma clapped his hands and said “I see, I see.”
“So Dr. Ichijou is serving as partner to Ms. Aoi, the great detective, playing the same role as Dr. Watson. How wonderful. A great detective can't make do without a Watson.”
“As expected of Mr. Kuruma, you understand quickly.”
“Now that you've got a partner and leveled up as a detective, you're going to tackle the mystery. I suppose you're gathering information right now. I appreciate your work. Being in this Tower with a murderer and not being able to escape is wreaking havoc on my nerves. It's pathetic. Even though I've written about situations like this so many times, as soon as it happens to me, I get like this.”
“That isn't true at all. I'm looking forward to your next work of honkaku. Use this experience that makes you feel like one of your characters to write a masterpiece. I'm sure it will be more realistic and more impactful than any book ever written.”
“I don't know about that. There have been so many mansion in the snow stories written already. Unless the trick is truly mind-blowing, they all start to run together. It's been a real challenge to write new works lately.”
“In that case, please come up with a mind-blowing trick. I'm looking forward to it.”
With a wry smile at Tsukiyo and her sparkling eyes, Kuruma scratched his bald head.
“I guess I have to do my best with such high expectations placed on me. I don't know how many more original tricks there are in this old brain, but I'll see what I can do. But...”
Kuruma overdramatically pointed at Tsukiyo.
“In order to do that, we all need to get out of here safely. So Ms. Aoi, please solve this case. I'm counting on you.”
“Of course. If it's for the sake of Mr. Kuruma's next work, I, great detective Aoi Tsukiyo, will uncover the truth behind this case with all my heart and soul.”
Tsukiyo patted her chest, and Sakyo interrupted in a joking, lighthearted voice.
“Mr. Kuruma, I believe it's fate we were trapped here together. When your next work is completed, please consider publishing it with our company. I will edit it with all my heart and soul.”
“Huh?” Yuma blinked. “I thought you were a magazine editor, Mr. Sakyo.”
“I am, but I used to be a literature editor. I've edited Mr. Kuruma's works in the past.”
“You've edited mystery works?”
Tsukiyo's face tensed.
“Yes, that's right. Our literary department puts a lot of effort into mystery novels. And our sales department tends to promote mystery novels more aggressively than other works.”
Tsukiyo and Yuma exchanged a look.
An editor who was involved in publishing mystery novels, and Kozushima, who had obtained an unpublished manuscript that could completely rewrite the history of the mystery genre. Kozushima may have been planning to entrust the unpublished work to Sakyo.
“Mr. Sakyo, may I ask you something?”
Sakyo may have noticed the shift in Tsukiyo's demeanor, as he straightened his back before saying
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Sakyo, you first met Mr. Kozushima researching the Chogatake Spiriting Away incident. So was your purpose for coming to the Tower to hear the story from Mr. Kozushima?”
“We already published the feature on the Chogatake Spiriting Away incident last year, I don't see the point of asking about that now.”
“Then tell us, why did you come to the Glass Tower?”
“I was allowed to stay here during my research, and he took care of me in many ways, so I couldn't refuse him now. To be honest, I didn't want to come.”
Sakyo spoke as though something was stuck in his teeth.
“And yet it seems you had your reason. Care to tell us more about it?”
Tsukiyo smiled at Sakyo, who scratched his head and said
“That's tricky... I promised Mr. Kozushima I wouldn't tell anyone, but considering the situation...”
After crossing his arms and thinking for a few seconds, Sakyo looked at Tsukiyo and said
“Okay. I'll tell you. The truth is, after I agreed to participate in this event, Mr. Kozushima contacted me. He asked me if my company would publish a manuscript for a great work of mystery.”
“A great mystery... Did he tell you what it was about?”
“He didn't, no,” Sakyo replied. “Honestly, when I heard that, I slumped my shoulders and told him 'If it really is a great work, we'll consider it' before immediately hanging up.”
“Why? If you could publish a great work, wouldn't that be profitable for your company?”
“There's no way he really had a great work.”
The smile that covered Sakyo's face was bitter.
“When we met for the interview last year, Mr. Kozushima said the same thing, over and over again. He told me he'd written some mysteries and begged me to publish them through my company.”
“And did you?”
“I gently declined. Since he'd been so kind to me, I read through some of his manuscripts, but... Frankly, they were terrible. Their setups were derivative, their detectives were derivative, and their tricks were most derivative of all. There was no originality whatsoever, no skill at writing, and even the logic to solve the mysteries was flawed. We couldn't have sold any of it.”
Kuruma agreed with Sakyo's harsh assessment, saying “Well, I suppose so.”
“The works he wrote in my writing classes were similar. As a mystery fan, he'd read a massive amount of works, so he was able to write about tricks. But all he produced were lesser knockoffs of existing masterpieces with less developed characters and worse writing. Reading them was painful.”
Kuruma cringed at the memories.
“His biggest problems were the scenes where the detective revealed the truth. They weren't at the level of being unfair or running into the Late Queen Problems, but the detective just announced who the culprit was and what tricks they'd used as though they'd known everything from the beginning, with almost no explanation of how they'd discovered the truth. It was like they'd read ahead in their own book and knew the solution from the beginning. The readers would have felt like they'd just been presented a problem and a solution, like a textbook.”
“Yes, I agree. That was exactly my impression.”
Sakyo nodded seriously.
“And did you tell that to Mr. Kozushima?”
“I was vague at first. I told him that with some polish, there may have been a few bright spots, but that from a business perspective it was difficult to publish a book by a new author who hadn't won any awards.”
“How did Mr. Kozushima react?”
“'In that case, I'll cover all the publication costs, so why don't you go ahead? I'll even pay for my own advertising.' That's what he said.”
“If he could cover the costs, I don't see the problem.”
When Yuma interjected, Sakyo's expression became grim.
“We couldn't have allowed that. Our company has a well-established reputation among mystery fans as a publisher of high quality works. If we were to publish one of Mr. Kozushima's stories, it would tarnish the reputation we've spent nearly a hundred years developing.”
“That bad, was it?” Tsukiyo said, holding a hand over her mouth to hide a small laugh.
“I suggested he self-publish, but he flatly refused. He insisted it had to be our company.”
“That's proof of the value of your company's name.”
“The last time we met, I gave him my honest assessment, and told him there was absolutely no way we could publish any of his works.”
“And how did he react?”
“He was furious. He threw an ashtray at the wall and roared at me to get out. I haven't had any contact with him since, so I was surprised to receive an invitation to this event. I thought maybe he had fixed his attitude since then, so I decided to respond.”
“But he immediately started talking about a manuscript again?”
“That's right. I was surprised he still hadn't given up, even after such a direct rejection. I wondered if I would have to read through another one of his unreadable manuscripts, even if it was just for show.”
“Mr. Sakyo, what if that manuscript wasn't written by Mr. Kozushima?”
When Tsukiyo asked, Sakyo frowned and replied
“What do you mean?”
“Don't you find it strange that he would have shown you his work again after you so conclusively rejected it? Well, I suppose it would make sense if he'd actually managed to write a true masterpiece.”
“If it wasn't written by Mr. Kozushima, why would he be the one to show it to me?”
“Because the actual author has already passed away. That is our assumption.”
“They're dead?”
Sakyo asked suspiciously.
“Mr. Kozushima wanted to make his name in the world of mystery fiction, not life science. But after receiving such harsh criticism last year, he finally realized there was no way he could make a name for himself with his own works. Perhaps that's why he decided to change course.”
“When you say 'change course', what exactly do you mean?”
Intrigued, Kuruma urged her to go on.
“In the world of mysteries, it's not only the authors who make names for themselves. Critics and researchers do as well. For example, the Honkaku Mystery Award, sponsored by the Honkaku Mystery Writers Club of Japan, has a category for criticism and research as well as novels. Since mystery novels are an important part of culture, it's entirely possible for a researcher to leave their mark on the world.”
“You mean you think he was planning to show Sakyo a manuscript of research on mysteries? Mr. Kozushima's knowledge and passion for mysteries was certainly second to none. That would be much more valuable than any novel he wrote.”
“That's probably not it, either.”
Tsukiyo shook her head.
“The truth is, Mr. Kozushima told Yuma that he'd obtained an unpublished manuscript. And he said that if it was made public, it would completely overturn the history of mystery novels.”
Yuma couldn't believe his ears. He hadn't expected her to give away such important information so easily. Tsukiyo gave him a sidelong glance as if to reassure him that she knew what she was doing, but Yuma was still dumbfounded.
“The entire history of mystery novels... What sort of manuscript is that?”
Sakyo leaned forward, his editor's senses tingling.
“We believe it could be a mystery novel written before The Murders in the Rue Morgue.”
After a few moments of silence, Sakyo and Kuruma stood up and shouted in perfect sync.
“A mystery novel written before The Murders in the Rue Morgue!?”
“That's just my and Yuma's speculation, of course. But if such a manuscript were to be found, it would indeed completely overturn the history of the mystery genre, from the ground up.”
“W-Why would Mr. Kozushima have something like that...?”
Sakyo's eyes widened.
“Mr. Kozushima was a multibillionaire and one of the world's leading collectors of mystery-related items. Having given up on writing a masterpiece but still wanting to leave his name in the history of the genre, he decided to use his connections as a collector and his considerable wealth to find a masterpiece that had yet to see the light of day. You could say he was aiming to be the Heinrich Schliemann of mystery.”
“I-I-It is true that if a mystery written before The Murders in the Rue Morgue was discovered, it would have an even bigger impact on mystery than the discovery of Troy did on archaeology.”
Kuruma was so excited he could barely speak.
“Where is the manuscript now!?” Sakyo begged.
Tsukiyo gave an evasive smile.
“I wonder...”
“It must be in the First room! It must be! We need to find it quickly!”
Sakyo shouted, his expression practically boiling over as he turned to Yuma and Kuruma.
“You two have the keys to the safe where the master key is, right? Let's take it out and search the First room!”
“Calm down for a moment, Sakyo. Kozushima's body is in the First room. Moreover, it's an active crime scene. We can't just go barging in.”
“What are you saying, Mr. Kuruma? If that manuscript were to be damaged during the police investigation, it would be devastating to all humankind! We have to find it and protect it all costs!”
“And what do you plan to do with it after you've protected it?”
Tsukiyo asked, smiling.
“Of course, I'll make it public and share it with the world. We'll publish it. The fact that I was invited here means that's what Mr. Kozushima wanted!”
“Is that really the case?”
Tsukiyo cocked her head to the side. Sakyo, who had been passionately ranting with his fists clenched, blinked and went
“Huh?”
“Well, Mr. Sakyo, you did harshly criticize Mr. Kozushima's work, didn't you?”
“I mean, 'harshly' is a bit... I was just being honest...”
“I understand finishing a full novel is quite a lot of work. Isn't that right, Mr. Kuruma?”
Kuruma, having suddenly been asked a question, lowered his head and said
“Well, yes, it is.”
“If even a professional like Mr. Kuruma struggles, then I can only imagine how hard it was for an amateur like Mr. Kozushima to write a full length novel. What kept him going was nothing but his determination to leave his name in the history of the mystery genre. But unfortunately for him, Mr. Sakyo didn't appreciate that.”
“No, all I did was give a fair evaluation...”
“That's true, of course. Objectively, what you said was correct. But I've heard that for an author, having their work insulted is the same as having their very existence denied. What do you think, Mr. Kuruma?”
“Well... There are many writers who feel that way. Inexperienced authors are especially prone to this misconception.”
“And there you have it. Considering how long you went without any contact afterwards, I can only conclude that Mr. Kozushima held some resentment towards you, Mr. Sakyo. That being the case, I don't see why he would have given you his precious manuscript.”
“Then why did he invite me to this event?”
“The reason he'd have given to the public is that since you're the editor-in-chief of a major magazine, you can publish an article about the discovery of the unpublished manuscript and inform the world of its existence.”
“And... the actual reason?”
Sakyo asked in a firm voice.
“I think he wanted to show you the manuscript and then tell you that he was giving it to another company. He'd show you the manuscript, the greatest treasure of the mystery world, then take it away. That was Mr. Kozushima's revenge.”
“That's absurd!”
Sakyo shouted, raising his voice.
“Mr. Kozushima really did want me to have his work published by my company. He wanted to give the manuscript to me! I'm sure of it!”
“Now that the man in question is dead, this is all just speculation.”
Tsukiyo wiped her face with a handkerchief.
“In that case, our company should take care of the manuscript. Since we had the closest relationship to Mr. Kozushima. Even if we didn't publish them, I did read Mr. Kozushima's manuscripts. In a sense, I'm the editor in charge of Mr. Kozushima. As his editor, I have a duty to publish his manuscript!”
A gradually reddening Sakyo raised his fist high, and Tsukiyo waved her hand lightly in front of her chest as though trying to cool him down.
“Don't get too excited. I don't know who will inherit the manuscript, but you'll have to negotiate with them after the case. In the first place, the idea that the manuscript is a mystery story written before The Murders in the Rue Morgue is just an idea Yuma and I came up with. Maybe Mr. Kozushima really was going to submit a manuscript he wrote himself, saying 'This time, I've written a masterpiece that will completely overturn all of mystery.'”
Sakyo deflated, and he said “Oh” with clear disappointment.
So that was how it was. Yuma, quietly watching the exchange from the side, realized what Tsukiyo was doing.
The unpublished manuscript that Kozushima had intended to reveal last night. Tsukiyo had confirmed how valuable it was to Sakyo. Would he have been obsessed enough to kill Kozushima for it?
If Sakyo had known beforehand that Kozushima had intended to entrust the valuable manuscript to someone other than himself, he would have done anything to stop it. Sakyo's reaction was enough to make anyone suspect that.
The bloody writing in the dining room was written to confuse the investigation, and the real motive for the murder was the unpublished manuscript. Tsukiyo was probably considering that possibility.
Sakyo, unaware that he was now on the suspect list, stood there in bemusement. At that moment, the door opened, and Sakaizumi, bearing a tray, and Madoka entered the game room.
“Oh, Dr. Ichijou and Ms. Aoi are here too. Perfect timing. I made some snacks, so please help yourselves.”
The tray Sakaizumi placed on the low table was full of finger foods like prosciutto, melon slices, and cheese crackers.
“We also have coffee if you'd like.”
Madoka, the one holding the pot, sounded depressed. Her face didn't look any better, and the color had yet to return. She was severely shocked by the murders of Kozushima and Oita... assuming she wasn't the culprit.
It was his fault Madoka felt that way. A searing sense of guilt welled up in Yuma's chest.
No, he only did what had to be done... By killing Kozushima, he had saved thousands, tens of thousands of ALS patients and their families... Suddenly, the words “trolley problem” crossed his mind.
A trolley goes out of control, and if it isn't stopped, five railway workers at the end of the track will be run over and killed. You're standing next to a switch, and by switching it, you can guide the trolley onto a neighboring track and save the five people. However, there is one worker on the other track.
If nothing is done, five people will lose their lives, but if the switch is switched, the five will be saved but one person who wasn't supposed to die will be sacrificed. In this situation, is it forgivable to use the switch?
Yes... He had just made the choice to use the switch. Yuma didn't think it was a decision that could be forgiven. But he had agonized over the decision, and in the end, he'd made his choice. He wasn't like the one who'd ruthlessly killed Oita.
Yuma desperately told himself that, averting his eyes from the possibility that Oita's killer had their own reasons. If he didn't, he would be crushed under the weight of the title of “murderer”.
“Wow, those look delicious!”
Yuma was brought back to his senses by an innocent voice. Tsukiyo was shoving a cheese cracker in her mouth whole.
“The cheese melts in your mouth! This is the best. Come on, Yuma, have some.”
He had no appetite, but it would be suspicious to refuse. Yuma took a bite of minced meat sandwiched between small pieces of pie dough. They were made by Sakaizumi, so there was no way they could be bad, but Yuma thought they tasted like sand.
“It's venison. It's a low-fat meat, so it pairs well with the pie dough.”
“Yeah, it's delicious.”
Yuma forced a smile to his face, and Sakaizumi urged Madoka “Let's have some, then” and reached for the food he'd made.
As he chewed the mini-pie, Yuma observed everyone present.
Tsukiyo looked carefree as ever. Sakaizumi was putting on a false bravado to cheer up Madoka, who was visibly depressed. Kuruma looked a bit anxious, but was keeping his cool. Sakyo still looked upset that his plan to go to the First room and search for the manuscript had been denied.
In addition to the people there, Kagami and Yumeyomi had holed themselves up in their rooms. Which of them was the one who'd killed Oita? Who had done it, why, and how had they created the locked room? Yuma's skull was so full with questions that it ached. He grabbed his forehead.
“Shouldn't we call Yumeyomi and Kagami?”
As he stabbed a ham with his fork, Kuruma asked as though he'd just remembered them.
“It's fine, isn't it? They both declared they'd stay in their rooms. Besides, I don't get along with those two. That fortune teller lady gets hysterical at a moment's notice, and the detective's kinda arrogant.”
Kuruma smirked at Sakaizumi's blunt assessments.
“It is true that this food might taste worse with those two making a racket. So for Chef Sakaizumi's sake, let's prioritize the meal right now.”
The half-joking remark was able to lighten the mood. It was a testament to the old author's years of life experience. Yuma sipped the coffee Madoka had poured him.
While Tsukiyo silently ate, Kuruma dominated the conversation, avoiding the topic of the case. Yuma expected Tsukiyo to step in once she was full and probe for more clues, but to his surprise, she didn't, continuing to listen with amusement as Kuruma told stories about the publishing industry and talked about his three favorite things: gold, shogi, and drinking.
Soon, the grandfather clock in the game room struck three.
“Oh, it's already that late. We should go prepare dinner. Well, we'll be going then, everyone. Since the dining room is... like that, I'm thinking of serving dinner buffet-style here in the game room. We'll call you when it's ready. Let's go, Madoka.”
As Sakaizumi and Madoka headed towards the entrance, Tsukiyo raised a hand and said
“Ah, we're going too.”
“Eh? You, Ms. Aoi? Why?”
“I've already searched the first floor, so now I want to see the basement. To find out who killed Mr. Kozushima and Mr. Oita.”
The atmosphere that Kuruma had so desperately worked to lighten instantly turned black. Oblivious to the way everyone else's faces clouded over, Tsukiyo blinked.
“It's fine. This isn't our house, so we don't have the right to tell you no.”
“Let's go, then.”
Tsukiyo said cheerfully, then turned around and said “Hurry up, Yuma.”
Leaving the game room behind, Yuma and the others went downstairs and arrived in the underground storeroom.
“On the left are the freezer and the power room, right? May I see those first?”
Tsukiyo approached the door with light steps that made it look like she was about to start skipping. Madoka looked at him as though asking for help, but Yuma could do nothing but shrug.
“Ahh! Amazing! It's full of high-quality ingredients.”
Tsukiyo opened the door to the freezer, and air that had frozen white flowed out.
“It's a long way back into town, so we buy in bulk and stock up here.”
Madoka caught up with her and explained. When Yuma looked inside, he saw a space of about sixteen square meters. Inside were shelves full of various meats and vegetables. It looked like a restaurant storeroom.
“Does Sakaizumi always cook here?”
Tsukiyo asked, strutting into the freezer.
“No, Mr. Sakaizumi isn't our chef full-time; we have a few others we call in a rotation. Sometimes, when no one was available, I would cook... Um, what are you doing?”
Tsukiyo suddenly got down on her hands and knees and began searching under the shelves with a penlight she'd taken from her pocket. Madoka spoke reproachfully.
“I just wondered if there was something that could help solve the case.”
“You find another corpse down there?”
Sakaizumi asked sarcastically, and Tsukiyo shook her head, disappointed.
“Unfortunately, no. If there was a body in here, it would have major repercussions for the investigation.”
Ignoring Sakaizumi's look of disgust, Tsukiyo, having finished her search, left the freezer and opened the adjacent door to the power room. A row of rugged-looking generators were lined up in the back of a room a bit over thirty square meters. On a shelf in front of the generators were about thirty metal canisters of gasoline.
“So this is where the electricity is generated in the event of a power outage. Is the gasoline kept in those canisters?”
“Yes. We keep it here just in case.”
“I see. Good thing the culprit didn't use it in the fire this morning. If the culprit had filled the room with gasoline before starting the fire, we would have all been reduced to barbecue.”
Madoka and Sakaizumi frowned deeper with every dangerous remark, but Tsukiyo continued to obliviously wander around the power room.
“Pardon me, Ms. Aoi, but as this room is dangerous, please refrain from touching the machines unnecessarily.”
“There's no need to worry. Despite my appearance, I am quite knowledgeable about mechanical engineering. I won't make any mistakes that would get myself hurt.”
Yuma was pretty sure Madoka was actually worried about Tsukiyo getting other people hurt. As he stood and watched, Tsukiyo spent a few minutes wandering the room, thoroughly investigating every nook and cranny, until she announced
“Alright, let's move on.”
“Move on? Where are you going next?”
Sakaizumi scratched his brown hair.
“The main kitchen, of course.”
“Why do you need to see the kitchen?”
His tone was that of a man uncomfortable with an outsider intruding upon his workplace. Tsukiyo clacked her leather soles against the floor until she was standing nose to nose with Sakaizumi. Tsukiyo had a few centimeters on the man, so he had to look up to make eye contact.
“I'm here to confirm your alibis, remember? Between 6:30 and 7:00 this morning, you were in the main kitchen, talking to Ms. Tomoe in the sub-kitchen. Isn't that right.”
“Yeah, it is. Are you doubting that!?”
He raised his voice with false bravado, but it was plain to see that Sakaizumi was more afraid than upset. Tsukiyo narrowed her eyes.
“Of course I am.”
Sakaizumi's face tensed. “W-What are you saying...?” he asked through trembling lips.
“It's not just you. I suspect everyone in the Tower. Including Yuma, my own Watson.”
Even though she sounded like she was joking, Yuma's heart lurched.
It was okay. It was just a joke. There's no way she actually suspected him. They were together while Oita was being killed. Yuma repeatedly reassured himself, but his heart kept racing.
“A great detective must consider every possibility of who the culprit is: a single culprit, multiple culprits, or even suicide disguised as murder. Only after every possibility has been eliminated one by one can we arrive at the truth. So in order to clear up my doubts against you, please show me to the main kitchen.”
Completely overwhelmed by Tsukiyo's aura, Sakaizumi meekly said “...I understand” and led the way. Crossing the storeroom to the opposite wall, they entered a kitchen the size of an elementary school classroom. A massive industrial refrigerator stood in the back, and several clean sinks and large stoves were lined up along the walls. Various cooking utensils filled the shelves.
“Whoa, how spacious. It's like the kitchen from a five star restaurant.”
Tsukiyo got excited. Madoka gave a slow, nervous nod.
“Mr. Kozushima used to host parties with dozens of attendants.”
“It must be satisfying as a chef, having all this equipment to yourself. Ah, is that the elevator used to deliver food to the sub-kitchen on the first floor?”
Tsukiyo opened the door to the small elevator next to the table for setting out the food and peered inside.
“It's small. Too small for a person to ride in, I'd say.”
“Obviously. It's for transporting food, and it only has a weight limit of 20 kg. You couldn't ride it no matter how much you diet.”
“Yes, with a maximum limit of 20 kg, even a kindergartner wouldn't be able to use it. Well, if a body was cut into pieces sent over several trips, it might be possible to move it, but neither of the corpses we have were dismembered.”
Sakaizumi blanched and shouted “Don't say such disgusting things!”
“How rude.”
Tsukiyo showed zero remorse and touched a mesh next to the elevator.
“So, this is the speaker of the intercom connected to the sub-kitchen? Between six-thirty and seven this morning, Mr. Sakaizumi and Ms. Tomoe were communicating through this. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Madoka replied weakly.
“Is it only the sub-kitchen you can talk to? Can't it connect to any other rooms?”
“It's only the sub-kitchen. It's there for handing over food. Please, feel free to try it yourself if you have any doubts.”
Perhaps sensing she was being doubted, Madoka spoke sharply. However, Tsukiyo ignored her, saying “Yes, I'll try that later” as she looked around the room.
“...What are you looking for?”
“No, I was just wondering if there was a microwave.”
“We don't have anything like that. No professional chef would be caught dead using a microwave. There's just a small one in the sub-kitchen.”
“With one small microwave, it would take a long time to heat up that many omelettes. There's also the coffee, which would add even more difficulty.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Tsukiyo waved a hand and said “I'm just talking to myself,” but Yuma had a guess at what she was thinking. She suspected that the omelettes prepared for breakfast hadn't been cooked in the thirty minute period from six-thirty to seven, but made in advance and quickly reheated in the microwave. If that was possible, then Sakaizumi and Madoka's alibis would no longer hold up. However, given the size of the microwave, that seemed difficult to do in practice. It would have been one thing if they could heat them all at once, but heating each omelette in a small microwave one at a time would take almost as long as cooking them all from scratch.
Could it be that the two of them were uninvolved in Oita's murder after all? Or was there some trick that would still have allowed them to fabricate their alibis? Yuma couldn't decide.
Tsukiyo put a hand to her forehead and mumbled something under her breath, then spun on her heel and started for the exit.
When Yuma asked “Where are you going?” Tsukiyo turned back and looked at him as though he'd asked something obvious.
“I'm going back to my room.”
“To your room? Why?”
“I've checked everything that I needed to check for now, so I want to sit and sort through all I've learned. Oh, that reminds me. Mr. Sakaizumi, when will dinner be served?”
“Dinner? Um, not everyone ate at lunch, so I was thinking of serving it in the game room around six...”
“6:00 P.M., that's about two and a half hours from now. Yes, that's perfect. Well, goodbye, Yuma. Please sit and rest until dinner.”
“You mean...?”
Tsukiyo left the kitchen, leaving a stunned Yuma behind. As Yuma stood there, Sakaizumi poked him in the shoulder.
“You sure got close to her quickly, Dr. Ichijou. Did something happen between you two? She's even calling you by your first name.”
“It would take too long to explain.”
Yuma was far too embarrassed to admit that he had been accepted as the Watson to her great detective. When he dodged the question, Sakaizumi looked at him seriously.
“I know she's hot, but I don't think you should date her. No matter how you look at it, she's a weirdo.”