Early the next morning.
Kazuha and Ran stood by the window, dismayed to find the sky a leaden gray, a light drizzle streaking the glass.
"That's strange," Ran muttered, staring at the Teru Teru Bozu doll. "The probability of it clearing up should have been a hundred percent."
"Maybe you didn't pray hard enough, Ran," Kazuha teased with a smile. "Maybe your heart just isn't in it as much as Shinichi's would be."
"That's not it at all..."
Conan looked up at the two girls, his eyes narrowing. The paper doll was hanging at a slightly odd angle. He sensed a 'hidden hand' behind this meteorological failure—a mastermind who had manipulated the very heavens.
"Well, you can't help it if it rains," Heiji said, stifling a yawn as he walked over. "The weather is up to the whims of the gods, after all."
In truth, he was that 'hidden hand.' He had taken the doll down before going to bed and had snuck out of his blankets early this morning to hang it back up. After all, solving cases was like a video game—the more players you had, the more fun it was. He wasn't about to let his co-op partner go off on a field trip.
"You've already got those two brats with you. Why do I have to go?"
By the time the appointed hour in the afternoon arrived, Tsuneo had pulled up to the detective agency in his pickup. Kogoro sat firmly in his chair, buried behind a newspaper, clearly lacking the motivation to move. Ran and Kazuha had already headed out for a shopping trip and wouldn't be back until evening.
"If you don't go, who is he supposed to 'poke'?" Tsuneo asked pointedly.
"Poke what?" Kogoro looked up, completely bewildered. Was this repairman talking nonsense because he'd skipped lunch again?
Heiji, however, looked down at Conan's wrist and instinctively rubbed the back of his own neck. Professor Agasa really is a genius, he thought. Those anesthetic needles are terrifyingly effective.
"Exactly! If the famous 'Sleeping Kogoro' shows up in person, the client will be much more satisfied!" Heiji grabbed Kogoro by the arm and practically hauled him out the door and into the truck.
"I say, isn't it about time you traded this thing in for a real car?" Kogoro grumbled, glancing at Conan, who was currently perched on Heiji's lap.
Lately, it seemed Tsuneo's pickup was rarely used for hauling actual cargo. A standard passenger car would be much more comfortable for these detective outings.
"Trade it in for what? Conan likes being held," Tsuneo replied, slamming the truck into gear and flooring it.
Lately, he had been spending his time in a virtual world piloting everything from fighter jets to main battle tanks. Real-world driving felt like a slow-motion breeze in comparison.
Conan remained silent, his expression deadpan. Yesterday it was Ran holding him; today it was Heiji. The experience was... significantly downgraded.
"4-chome, Haido-cho... Morozumi. This is the place."
At exactly 4:00 PM, the group arrived at the gates of a residence belonging to a family named Morozumi.
"Perfect timing. Kusukawa-san specifically warned me that this client is a stickler for punctuality," Heiji said, checking his watch with a sigh of relief.
They rang the doorbell. After a moment, a woman with short hair opened the door. This was the client: Ms. Ryoko Morozumi, thirty-nine years old. Though she was wearing casual home clothes, her heavy makeup made her look considerably younger.
"Can I help you people?" Ryoko Morozumi asked, resting her hands on her hips as she looked at the two men, the youth, and the child blocking her entrance.
"Actually, we're here on behalf of Mr. Kusukawa to look into the matter you discussed," Kogoro said with a professional, friendly smile.
"Oh, forget about that," Ryoko said dismissively, already moving to close the door. "I think I was just being overly sensitive. It was nothing."
"Heiji, what's the situation?"
Tsuneo walked up from the garden gate. He'd decided that if this was going to take a while, he wanted to borrow a bucket and a rag to clean his windshield.
"And... who might you be?" Ryoko Morozumi asked. Her hands dropped from her hips, and a warm, inviting smile blossomed across her face as she looked at the young man approaching.
Heiji: "..."
Conan: "..."
Kogoro: "..."
"Hey," Heiji whispered, turning his back to the woman. "Is he... is he some kind of Incubus? Does he have a passive charm aura or something?"
"It's a terrifying talent," Kogoro agreed, his voice heavy with the shared trauma of a man who realized his 'Sleeping Detective' fame was no match for a handsome face. They watched as the repairman immediately struck up a friendly conversation with the housewife.
Conan felt a chill run down his spine. Tsuneo's social utility was becoming downright supernatural.
"Really? You don't look a day over thirty..."
By the time Tsuneo finished his sentence, Ryoko Morozumi had already produced slippers and was ushering the entire group inside.
"Mrs. Morozumi, are you sure there weren't any suspicious people?" Conan asked in his most innocent 'child' voice. It was strange—to go as far as hiring a detective only to suddenly claim it was "just nerves."
"It really was nothing, just my imagination playing tricks on me," Ryoko said with a light laugh.
Heiji's eyes narrowed. This woman was hiding something.
Tsuneo didn't linger. He didn't push her; he simply handed her a business card, asked a few casual questions, and then led the group back outside.
Fifteen minutes later.
"How long are you three planning to sit here?" Kogoro asked, leaning against the side of the truck as the other three sat inside.
"Heiji said he'd split the commission with me fifty-fifty, so I've got nothing but time," Tsuneo said, flipping through a manga volume he'd found in the glove box.
That Mrs. Morozumi... she had a very specific 'vibe.' In his experience, people like her were either destined to be victims or were currently busy being culprits.
"Well, she already paid an initial retainer when she went to the agency," Heiji noted, his eyes fixed on a man in a suit who was approaching the house.
Kogoro turned to look as well. The man was carrying a large shoulder bag typical of door-to-door salesmen. He wore glasses, and his round face was slick with sweat. He looked utterly harmless.
Heiji and Conan watched the man enter the Morozumi yard and immediately hopped out of the truck to shadow him.
"I told you to leave! If you don't, I'm calling the police!"
"Madam, please! I'm not here for a hard sell. Please, just take this antique catalog for reference. And this keychain as a gift for your business's prosperity—"
"Who wants your cheap trash?! This house isn't so poor that we need hand-outs!"
The front door hadn't been fully closed. Heiji and Conan saw everything. Ryoko Morozumi's face was twisted in an arrogant sneer as she slapped the catalog and the small wooden gift box out of the man's hands.
The middle-aged salesman apologized profusely, scrambled to pick up his items, and scurried away.
"Wow. Talk about a complete personality 180," Heiji remarked, watching the salesman's retreating back before glancing at Tsuneo, who was still casually reading in the truck.
"Heh. How do you think that guy manages to stay so successful in the repair business?" Conan said, hands in his pockets, giving Heiji a look that said 'You're too innocent for this world.'
As the two high school detectives stood by the gate, another car pulled up behind Tsuneo's pickup.
A tall, middle-aged man stepped out. He had a rather quirky hairstyle—two distinct curls framing either side of his forehead. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he was clearly a man who spent a lot of time on his appearance. He looked like the type who was very popular with middle-aged women.
Tsuneo lowered his manga and glanced at Kogoro. "See that? A man who lets himself go and looks like a slob doesn't even have the qualifications to have an affair."
"Hey!" Kogoro barked, his face reddening. "Who exactly are you talking about, you punk?!"
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