"Hattori, forget about the handcuffs for a second. Have you looked closely at that code? If we crack it, we can get out of here, right?" Kazuha asked, her eyes fixed on the scrap of paper before them.
Lines of numbers and a few scattered English letters stared back at her. Their purpose remained a mystery.
"You're absolutely right. If you want to leave this place and see the sun again, you'd better solve that code—and fast!"
A man's voice echoed from the stairwell. He stepped into the dim, cramped attic, the shadows clinging to his long, shoulder-length hair. Even in the poor light, the silhouette of the handgun in his grip was unmistakably clear.
"Otherwise, you'll end up just like him—a cold, stiff corpse."
Following closely behind was a heavy-set man wearing a headscarf. He carried the limp form of Mr. Kusukawa over his shoulder, dropping him onto the floor with a dull thud. The threat hung heavy in the air, punctuated by their cruel laughter.
"Heiji..." Kazuha whispered, her heart fluttering with fear as the villains' laughter filled the room.
"Don't worry," Hattori murmured, leaning closer to her. "Did you forget who we were supposed to have dinner with today?"
He gave her a small, reassuring look. "They'll find us. I know they will."
"The address for the person named Ito—the one who was in contact with Kusukawa—just came through."
Tsuneo glanced at the text message Hiroki had just sent. Without a word, he adjusted the steering wheel, turning the car toward Kenbashi Town with the Mori family in tow.
He knew Hattori had run into trouble, though he couldn't quite recall the specifics of this particular incident. It didn't matter. In Tsuneo's book, anyone who got in the way of a scheduled meal was a 'bad egg.'
Just wait for me, Hattori, he thought grimly.
"I say, are you alright?" Kogoro Mori asked from the passenger seat, glancing sideways at the young man. He cleared his throat, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "Your expression is... looking a bit fierce there, kid."
"Heh heh..." Conan, sitting on Ran's lap in the back, offered a silent prayer for Hattori.
You'd better actually be in danger, Heiji. Because if you're just wasting time, Tsuneo is going to give you a 'repair' job you won't forget.
They arrived at the Ito residence shortly after. It was a respectable-looking villa with a spacious yard.
"The two children you're looking for? A high school boy and girl? No, I'm afraid they haven't been here," said the woman who opened the door. She was a plump, kind-faced woman in her late thirties, wearing glasses and cradling a cat in her arms.
"That badge on your lapel... it's a lawyer's crest, isn't it?" Ran noticed the golden scales of justice pinned to the woman's chest.
She suddenly remembered her mother mentioning a famous lawyer named Misari Ito—a woman known for taking on any case, no matter how small, for a very low fee. A truly excellent attorney.
"Indeed it is. Is your mother a lawyer as well?" Misari Ito asked with a gentle smile.
"Yes, she is!" Ran beamed, happy to speak of her mother.
"Alright, let's skip the small talk," Kogoro said, patting his daughter's shoulder before turning back to the woman. "Ms. Ito, you're acquainted with a private investigator named Kusukawa, aren't you?"
Misari Ito blinked, looking surprised. "Yes, that's correct. How did you know, Mr. Mori?"
The 'Sleeping Kogoro' had already introduced himself when she first opened the door.
"Mr. Kusukawa had reached out to me several times recently regarding a certain case..."
It made sense; a lawyer and a detective knowing each other was professional standard. However, the group failed to glean any useful leads from her. The woman seemed perfectly ordinary, her demeanor beyond reproach.
They retreated to the car.
"What now?" Kogoro asked, his patience wearing thin. He adjusted his headphones, trying to catch the horse racing broadcast. "Why don't we just go eat? We're chasing ghosts here."
"Uncle, there were a lot of footprints in Ms. Ito's entryway," Conan pointed out, still perched on Ran's lap.
He had noticed them the moment the door opened. "And those footprints only went inward. There weren't any leading back out. That means she has guests who haven't left yet."
"You've got sharp eyes, brat," Kogoro grunted. He nodded, acknowledging the logic, but his mind was still half-focused on the race.
Conan rolled his eyes and decided to push a little harder. "Wait, that's weird! My shoes are so dirty!"
"Well, of course they are, Conan-kun. It's been raining all day," Ran said, patting his head.
"What he's trying to say," Tsuneo interrupted, leaning his chest against the steering wheel as he stared intently at the Ito villa, "is that there were no shoes in that entryway."
On a rainy day, everyone's shoes would be caked in mud. No guest, no matter how close, would walk into a house like that without taking them off. And yet, there were footprints inside but no shoes at the door, and no signs of anyone leaving.
"You mean...?" Kogoro frowned, the pieces clicking into place.
Why would Ms. Ito hide her guests' shoes? There was no innocent reason for it.
"Wait here for me," Tsuneo said. He reached into the tool bag beside the driver's seat and pulled out a massive, silver-plated wrench. It caught the light, gleaming with a cold, metallic luster.
It felt balanced. Solid. Perfect.
"Hey! Let's investigate properly first!" Kogoro shouted, reaching out to stop him. A blow to the head with that thing would do more than just leave a bruise.
"I've already investigated," Tsuneo replied coolly. Ignoring Kogoro's protest, he stepped out of the car, the heavy wrench swinging at his side.
"Dad, what do we do?" Ran bit her lip, unsure. Even during their intense training sessions, she had rarely seen Tsuneo reach for a weapon. When he did, it usually meant the time for talking was over.
In the attic of the Ito villa, the mask had finally slipped.
Misari Ito climbed the stairs, the "kindly" smile gone, replaced by a cold, predatory sneer.
"My, my. It looks like there's been a bit of a struggle here," she said, her hands tucked behind her back. She looked down at the dark-skinned youth who was breathing heavily, his face bruised and swollen.
"The brat tried to shout for help," the long-haired man said, grabbing a fistful of Hattori's hair and yanking his head back. "I just had to teach him some manners."
"I must say, I'm impressed," Misari whispered, leaning down. "I didn't realize this young man was an acquaintance of the great Kogoro Mori. You've caused me quite a bit of trouble, you know."
Hattori glared at her, his jaw set. His stomach burned from the punches he'd taken, making every breath a struggle.
"Heiji Hattori, the high school detective of the West..." Misari taunted. "Come now, be a good boy and solve that code. Solve the riddle left behind by that sewer rat of a detective."
As she spoke, she sat down heavily—right on top of the unconscious Mr. Kusukawa. Given her weight, it was a cruel, crushing gesture.
"You really look pathetic right now, Hattori."
The voice came from the stairwell, calm and chilling.
"Didn't I teach you? When you run into trash like this, you don't talk to them."
A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping onto the attic floor. In his hand, a heavy wrench caught the dim light, a flash of silver that promised a violent end to the conversation.
"You just take their heads off."
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