"Yes, that's correct. Takanori Genda, the man who surrendered to the police, has suddenly clammed up and refuses to say another word."
"The red horse figurine was indeed made by Genda—there's no doubt about that—but he's completely incoherent regarding the most critical details of the serial arson cases."
"Furthermore, I'm at Genda's house right now, and I can't find any definitive evidence. As for the sleepwalking symptoms Genda described in his confession, they're becoming harder and harder to believe."
"However, the forensics team will be arriving tomorrow morning. I'll leave the search to them."
"If there are any further developments, I'll be in touch."
With those final words, Inspector Yumiura hung up the phone.
Just moments ago, following the plan Heiji had laid out, he had made three separate calls to each of the suspects.
"That should do it, right?" Yumiura asked, looking toward the group.
"Naturally," Heiji replied with a confident grin.
Kogoro Mori, however, looked utterly bewildered. "What exactly are you kids planning? Making those fake calls just to tip off the suspects..."
Wasn't that Red Hare base supposed to be a vital piece of evidence? Why go through this elaborate charade now? And the house was covered in Genda's own muddy footprints—how could the Inspector say the sleepwalking story was hard to believe?
"If a thorough search is going to happen, isn't our presence here just going to make more work for the forensics team?" Ran and Kazuha exchanged a worried look.
A girl's hair could fall to the floor without her even noticing—and frankly, the same could be said for middle-aged men...
"Well, if someone wanted to completely erase the traces of them ever being here, what would they have to do?" Conan looked up, a look of feigned innocence on his face.
"They'd have to do a massive top-to-bottom cleaning, right?" Kazuha suggested.
"And if they didn't have enough time for a 'massive cleaning'?" Conan pressed further.
"That guy left footprints all over this house," Tsuneo said, leaning against the entryway doorframe with a faint smile. "Once forensics arrives, they'll find every scrap of evidence left behind—evidence that will prove Genda isn't the culprit."
The real culprits, Tsuneo knew, would be far too panicked to wait.
The sky darkened as night descended.
Exactly as the "director" of this play had anticipated, the first shadow arrived.
She circled the villa first, pausing before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room. The window was unlocked. Perfect. This makes things much easier.
Indeed, it was the only woman among the three suspects: the fortune-teller, Keiko Gondo—the victim's sister.
Keiko Gondo slid the window open, removed her shoes, and crept inside with practiced caution. She had to retrieve the wiretap; that device would never escape the scrutiny of a police forensics team.
Hehe. Keiko stepped out of the living room and slid open a door to one of the side rooms. To her luck, she immediately spotted the crystal ball she had sold to Takanori Genda.
But before she could close the door and get to work, the front door creaked open.
A dark silhouette slipped into the entryway.
This newcomer was significantly bolder than Keiko. Finding the house silent, he clicked on a flashlight and produced a screwdriver, immediately beginning to dismantle the telephone.
Keiko hid in the room, her breath hitching in her throat. She could see him clearly: it was her brother-in-law. He was wearing leather gloves—the mark of a professional.
Creak...
Creak...
It sounded like he had finished his business and was heading up the stairs.
Just as the fortune-teller let out a sigh of relief and prepared to swap out the cushion and make her escape, a hand suddenly reached out from behind and clamped firmly over her mouth.
It was a heart-stopping shock.
Keiko Gondo's eyes bulged as she strained to look behind her. Standing there were two high school girls, one pinning her while the other pressed a finger to her lips in a "shush" gesture.
Game over. Caught red-handed.
As for what was happening outside the front door...
Following the second person's entry into the villa, Kogoro Mori, who had been crouching in the bushes, finally spotted his target.
The feng shui master, Misao Soga!
Gotcha!
In less than two seconds, the tall Misao Soga was pinned to the ground, his mouth covered by the Great Detective Mori's hand.
Unsurprisingly, he, too, had come to retrieve a wiretap...
In the second-floor bedroom.
"What's wrong? Did you forget to place this, Mr. Arsonist?"
Inspector Yumiura held up the Red Hare key charm, a grim smile on his face. He flicked the wall switch, flooding the room with brilliant light.
Standing before the group, wearing leather gloves and crouching beside the bed as he attempted to position a desk lamp, was Akira Morozumi—the husband of the fourth arson victim, Ryoko Morozumi.
"That's right. Everything started with this key charm made by Mr. Genda," Heiji said, stepping into the room with his hands in his pockets to begin his deduction.
"The first 'arson' case—the fire in Risen-cho 1-chome. Although the cause was unknown, the reason that red horse figurine was found there was simply because the homeowner was a regular customer of Mr. Genda's."
"A Guan Yu charm for business prosperity, riding the Red Hare. Genda sent it along with a product catalog as a gift."
"However, because the owner never opened the gift box, they never actually saw the key charm inside."
"When the 'Red Horse'—the supposed signature of the serial arsonist—was found at the scene, the owner claimed to know nothing about it. The media immediately jumped on it, blowing the story out of proportion."
Cold sweat beaded on Akira Morozumi's forehead, but he gritted his teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about. What does any of this have to do with me?"
"That mouth of yours is tougher than my adjustable wrench," Tsuneo remarked from the corner of the room. Akira jumped; he hadn't even realized Tsuneo was standing there until he spoke.
It was rare to see a culprit caught in the act still try to argue their way out of it.
"Ahem. Continuing where we left off," Inspector Yumiura cleared his throat. He had already heard the truth from the others, and it fit the existing evidence perfectly. "After seeing the media reports, Genda began to suffer from intense self-doubt."
"Genda couldn't understand why the key charm he sent out was disowned by his customer, or why the media called it a 'provocation to the police.' He began to fear that his childhood sleepwalking had returned—that he was committing these crimes in a trance without knowing it."
"And so, through an introduction by Misao Soga, he went to your hospital. He sought treatment from you—a psychiatrist."
Yumiura's gaze turned cold and filled with disdain. A man like this didn't deserve to be called a doctor.
The moment Akira Morozumi heard Genda's story, he saw an opportunity. He manipulated the man, convincing him that he was indeed a sleepwalking arsonist.
And then, one by one, the fires began to burn.
(End of Chapter)
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