"Mom, look! I told you, didn't I? The red horse that causes fires really did come!"
Amidst the flickering orange glow of the dying embers, a young boy stood nearby, pointing toward the wreckage as he spoke to his mother.
"Hey, kid. How do you know a red horse was here?" Heiji and Conan immediately pivoted toward the pair, their detective instincts flaring.
The fire had not been fully extinguished yet, making it impossible to begin a formal search of the interior. Judging by the sheer ferocity of the blaze, it was almost certain that an accelerant had been used. Whether any physical evidence had survived the inferno was anyone's guess, making eyewitness testimony absolutely vital.
"Because I saw it with my own eyes!" the boy declared confidently.
"When? And where exactly did you see it?" Conan pressed, stepping closer.
"I only saw the horse's shadow. I was in the living room watching Masked Yaiba. Just as I was about to sing along to the theme song, the outside suddenly got really bright. A huge shadow of a horse appeared right on my living room curtains!"
The boy stretched his arms wide to demonstrate. From his gestures, it was clear the shadow had been unnervingly large. The child appeared to be around the same age as Genta and the others, living in the house directly to the right of the Morozumi residence.
"Quick!"
Once they had the details, Conan and Heiji didn't waste a second. They vaulted over the neighbor's fence and positioned themselves outside the living room window where the boy had seen the shadow.
The fire at the Morozumi house was still venting heat, but through the jagged gaps of the scorched window frame, they could just barely make out the blackened silhouette of a red horse figurine perched on a ledge.
"The broadcast for Masked Yaiba starts at 7:30 PM. The theme song plays right at the beginning," Conan noted. "That's when the light flared up, hitting the horse and projecting its shadow onto this neighbor's curtain."
If there was one thing Conan knew inside out, it was the schedule of children's television programs.
"Which means," Heiji nodded, his expression grim, "the arsonist set the fire and placed that horse in the window slit sometime after 7:30."
As the two of them stood in the neighbor's yard deep in analysis, the little boy and his mother stared at them in utter bewilderment.
They just jumped over our wall like it was nothing... the mother thought. She was already mentally calculating the cost of raising the fence. Apparently, a five-foot wall wasn't enough to stop a primary schooler with glasses.
The fire raged for over an hour before the vibrant, wealthy home was reduced to a hollow, charred husk of black soot.
"Please, just let me in to take a look!" Heiji was at the perimeter, pleading with the officer holding the line.
"I can't do that, kid. Don't make this difficult for me." As a local Tokyo officer, he might not have known Heiji, but he certainly recognized Detective Mori and his "apprentices."
However, with no leads on the serial arsonist yet, letting civilians into a fresh crime scene was a one-way ticket to a disciplinary hearing.
"This is the first time there's been a casualty in the string of fires from the first to the fourth district, right?" Tsuneo asked, leaning against the car as he observed the scene.
"Are you suggesting a copycat?" Mori Kogoro mused. It wasn't an impossible theory. Someone could have seized the opportunity provided by the serial arsonist's spree to eliminate Mrs. Morozumi and make it look like part of a larger pattern.
"It doesn't feel like a copycat," Tsuneo said, shaking his head. He glanced toward the distance, where Mr. Morozumi was weeping, and then toward the Feng Shui master. "But we already have a solid list of suspects."
Both men had clear motives. The Feng Shui master was being blackmailed with an incriminating videotape. As for Mr. Morozumi... if he had realized the extent of his wife's infidelity, a murderous rage wouldn't be out of the question.
Then there was the sister—the fortune-teller who had been desperate for money—and that stout salesman who had been lurking around until dark.
"Hey, hey! Fire investigation isn't exactly in your job description, is it?" A voice boomed from behind them.
A robust, middle-aged man walked over, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He had a clean-cut buzz cut and a square, dependable face. He held a portable ashtray in one hand, expertly extinguishing his cigarette as he approached.
"I-Inspector Yumitsu?! The 'Arson Dad' from Division One?!" Kogoro's eyes widened in surprise.
"Mori, how many times do I have to tell you? Don't call your former superior 'Arson Dad,'" Inspector Yumitsu said with a wry smile.
"Former superior?" Heiji looked confused. "Wasn't his old boss Inspector Megure?"
"Inspector Yumitsu is from the Arson Investigation Section of the First Division," Kogoro explained. "I served under him for a stint back in the day."
"And back in the day, you caused me no shortage of headaches," Yumitsu grumbled. "Every time there was a fire, you'd jump to the conclusion it was arson, charge into the scene, and trample over half the evidence. The Fire Department chewed me out more times than I can count because of you."
Despite the complaining, his tone was fond. But his expression soon turned serious. "But this time, you're right. It is arson."
The evidence was undeniable. The partially melted red horse figurine found at the seat of the fire matched the trophies left at the previous three scenes perfectly.
"We were just discussing that," Kogoro said, gesturing toward Tsuneo. "Could someone have seen the 'Red Horse' in the news and used the same MO for a copycat crime?"
"Unlikely," Yumitsu said, shaking his head. "The public only knows about a red horse being left behind. But they don't know the specifics. Our forensics team confirmed that all four horses were cast from the exact same mold. The culprit is taunting us with a signature—and now, that signature has claimed a life."
"Where was the point of origin?" Heiji asked, looking toward the charred remains of the house.
"Follow me, and watch your step. Don't go trampling things," Yumitsu warned. He led them to the right side of the villa, past the living room area.
High up on the wall, about two meters off the ground, was a small transom window—the kind usually found in bathrooms or storage closets. Conan looked at the height of the window, then back at the perimeter wall, and nodded. The horse had likely been placed in the frame of that specific window.
"The arsonist likely stood outside this transom window, splashed kerosene inside, ignited it, and then placed the red horse on the ledge," Yumitsu hypothesized. "I also found a number of suspicious footprints lingering right outside the living room window. Once we process those, we'll have our answer soon enough."
The "Arson Dad" pointed toward the living room area with a confident, triumphant grin.
"Uhm..." Kogoro started, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice trailing off.
"Those footprints are probably ours," Tsuneo interjected with a casual shrug.
Even in the dark, he could see his own distinct tread marks in the dirt not far away.
"WHAAAT?!"
"Why on earth were you people lurking outside someone's living room window?!" Yumitsu demanded, his hope for a quick lead shattering instantly.
"Well, to be honest..."
Kogoro sighed and began to recount the details of the day's stakeout—including the scandalous, secret drama of Mrs. Morozumi's private life.
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