"Now it's certain. The culprit is definitely not that man."
"Yeah. This story is starting to sound all too familiar."
"Exactly. I was thinking the same thing."
Tsuneo stood between Heiji and Conan as the three of them spoke in riddles. While the mechanic wasn't quite following the specific literary tracks the two detectives were racing down, he knew one thing for sure: the man who had just practically gift-wrapped himself for the police was far too convenient to be the killer.
"The Hercule Poirot series—The ABC Murders!" A smug, sharp smile tugged at the corner of Conan's mouth.
In that classic mystery, a culprit uses the alphabetical order of a railway guide to commit a series of seemingly random killings, misleading the public into believing a serial killer is on the loose. In reality, it's a smokescreen designed to hide the one murder the culprit actually cares about—the one that matches the letter 'C.'
This setup was a carbon copy. By staging a series of arson attacks at locations A, B, and C, the true objective—Location D—remains hidden within the pattern of 'random' chaos.
"That timid middle-aged man who was just hauled off in the patrol car... he's the perfect stand-in for the suspect in the novel," Heiji added, nodding. "The poor guy has been gaslit into believing he's a pyromaniac."
For a detective, there was something undeniably thrilling about encountering a classic literary gambit in the real world. This level of planning was rare, and the game was finally afoot.
"Let's go. We're heading back to the crime scene!"
Heiji and Conan were already moving, grabbing Tsuneo by the arms to drag him along.
"Hey! Ran and Kazuha's food is still in the fridge!" Tsuneo protested, though his resistance was half-hearted. By all rights, a late-night snack was a necessity.
"We'll eat it tomorrow!"
"Once the investigation is over, I'll treat you to yakiniku..." Heiji promised.
Lured by the promise of grilled meat, Tsuneo fired up the engine and sped back toward the charred remains of the Morozumi villa with Heiji and Conan in tow.
Inspector Yumitsu hadn't gone home to rest either. He trailed behind them in his own car; as much as he was bound by protocol, he shared their gut feeling. He didn't believe Genda was the arsonist, and he wasn't about to let a potential breakthrough slip through his fingers.
"Man, it really is a mess in here," Heiji remarked as they stepped back inside the house.
The interior was a skeletal ruin of blackened timber and soot-streaked walls. It was a testament to the house's construction that it hadn't collapsed entirely. Even though the fire department had responded almost instantly, the blaze had been fueled by such intense heat that Mrs. Morozumi never stood a chance.
"It's right here," Yumitsu said, leading them to the storage room on the first floor. The wooden door had long since been reduced to ash. High up on the wall was the transom window they had identified earlier.
Tests had confirmed a massive amount of kerosene residue both inside and outside the wall near the window. The initial theory was that someone had splashed the fuel from the outside through the gap.
"Lift me up!" Conan said, pointing toward the window. Even for his brilliant mind, his seven-year-old height was a distinct disadvantage.
"..."
Tsuneo sighed and hoisted the "kid" up by his waist.
"From this angle, it works," Conan noted, peering through the gap toward the neighbor's house where the curtains had been drawn. The perimeter wall between the two properties was about 1.5 meters tall—high enough to provide cover, but low enough that the glare of a fire would easily project a shadow onto the neighbor's window.
But something still bothered him. He recalled Tsuneo's earlier observation: that the red horse had been placed there on purpose.
Tsuneo was 185 centimeters tall, and even he had to stretch his arms fully to reach the ledge. How tall would the arsonist have to be? Did they bring a ladder just to place a figurine?
"Hey!"
"Ku... you guys, get over here!" Heiji, who was crouching on the floor, nearly blurted out 'Kudo' before catching himself.
"What is it?!"
Conan, still being held aloft by Tsuneo, looked down. When he saw what was in Heiji's hand, he immediately snapped his head back up to look at the ceiling.
"And look at this," Heiji added, signaling for Inspector Yumitsu to join them. He pointed to a small, strangely geometric pile of ash on the floor. It was delicate—one touch would scatter it—and it was vital the police saw it now.
"I see."
Even Tsuneo nodded in understanding. The police hadn't cracked the case yet for a simple reason: their initial sweep of the scene had been far too superficial.
"Looks like we need to pay another visit to the kid who saw the 'Red Hare,'" Tsuneo said, checking his watch. It was well past midnight.
Ding-dong!
Ding-dong!
After a few persistent rings, the lights in the neighboring villa flickered on. After the group identified themselves, the boy's mother opened the door, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion.
"Don't any of you people own a watch?" she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Her husband was away on business, and having the doorbell ring at this hour had nearly prompted her to call the police.
"I am truly sorry..." Inspector Yumitsu had spent most of the night apologizing, and he did so again with a deep bow.
Meanwhile, the trio of detectives found the little boy, who had stumbled out behind his mother to see what the commotion was about.
"You guys again?" The boy looked at Heiji and Conan, confused. Weren't these the two who had jumped over his fence earlier?
"Let's go to the living room," Heiji said, leadings the way with practiced ease. He stood by the window and stared at the curtains.
"If it was 7:30, the timing fits," Yumitsu said, standing by the window. "But is it possible the fire had already started earlier, just small enough that it took until 7:30 for the flames to grow large enough to cast a shadow?"
Yumitsu still hadn't quite connected the dots. If Akira Morozumi or Souo Tsugami were the culprits, the ignition time would have to be pushed back. They left at 7:20. If they had used a delayed ignition device, the fire might have only truly flared up ten minutes later.
"No, it didn't grow slowly! The shadow of the horse went vwoom—it appeared all at once!" the boy insisted, miming a sudden flash with his hands. "And it was really, really clear!"
"Clear?" Yumitsu frowned, looking at the three smiling faces of the detectives.
In the flickering, chaotic light of a growing fire, a shadow shouldn't be "clear." It should be dancing, unstable, and hazy.
"Yeah. But then, a few seconds later, the shadow just disappeared. That's when Mom and I went outside to see what was happening," the boy added, providing the final, crucial piece of the puzzle.
"Exactly. The mystery is solved!" Heiji held up a small evidence bag.
Inside were the mangled, scorched remains of an incandescent light bulb.
"Alright, stop talking in circles," Yumitsu sighed.
"The killer set a trap," Tsuneo said, pulling back the curtain to look at the transom window across the way. "When they left the villa at 7:20, they used an incandescent bulb as a timer. They calculated exactly how much heat it would generate to trigger the fire at 7:30."
"We know the method," Heiji said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the evidence. "But the proof..."
"We could just grab the suspects and interrogate them," Tsuneo suggested bluntly. "Interrogate them hard. The guy who pulled the 'ABC' trick killed two innocent people just as cover. He deserves a good thrashing."
"Ahem!" Yumitsu cleared his throat.
He noticed the dangerous glint in the young mechanic's eyes. He had to remind himself—and Tsuneo—that the police were still standing right there.
"Ah-le-le..."
Conan's voice took on that high-pitched, feigned innocence again. The hunt for the physical evidence was on.
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