"The second block, the third block, and finally the fourth block of Beika-cho—your own home. You went as far as throwing your own wife into the inferno along with it."
Akira Morozumi was a different breed of arsonist. He had selected his scapegoat early on and pursued his goal with cold, clinical precision, willing to use any means necessary to achieve it.
"You took the key charms Mr. Genda made and meticulously disassembled them, removing the Guan Yu figure and the base. By leaving only the 'Red Horse' at each scene, you ensured the narrative of a serial arsonist was etched into the public mind."
Heiji leaned against the wall, his eyes sharp. "Of course, if you hadn't taken them apart and they hadn't burned completely, the police would have traced them back to Genda immediately. Leaving only the horse was a calculated move. And until that fourth fire, you made sure to 'protect' Mr. Genda. You couldn't let him be caught too early."
Heiji couldn't help but let out a dry, mocking laugh. It was a dark irony—the culprit having to safeguard the very man he intended to frame.
"It's not like I sought him out and told him he had sleepwalking issues," Akira Morozumi spat, still desperately struggling to keep his composure.
That's right, he thought. If you won't believe me, won't you believe the man himself? He truly believes he's a sleepwalker!
"That was something from his childhood, wasn't it?" Conan piped up, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he looked at Akira. "I've seen it on TV—it's common for children to be unable to settle their excitement from the day, leading them to wander around their beds at night. As a psychiatrist, surely you knew that, didn't you, Doctor?"
"And this key," Tsuneo said, stepping toward Akira and picking up a key from the floor. He tossed it lightly to Inspector Yumiura. "You probably had a duplicate made while you were supposedly providing him with 'psychiatric therapy,' right?"
The chaotic footprints throughout the villa—those were made by Akira wearing Genda's shoes, which he had deliberately stained with mud. Even the scorched shirt in the trash can was his handiwork.
Every trace had been carefully planted by Akira Morozumi. They weren't just for the police; they were specifically designed to break his patient, Takanori Genda.
Look, the evidence screamed. You walk around in your shoes while you sleep. You have a burnt shirt. You're a late-stage arsonist.
The sedative medication Akira had prescribed to Genda was likely just a tool to ensure the man remained in a deep, drug-induced stupor while Akira broke into his house at night to stage the "evidence."
"B-but... on the day of the fire at my house, Genda was definitely seen wandering around the neighborhood!" Akira protested, throwing out a new line of defense.
It was true; even a psychiatrist would find it difficult to remotely control a person's physical location during the day.
"You heard the phone conversation between Genda and that feng shui master, didn't you?" Inspector Yumiura said, gesturing toward Akira's jacket pocket. "The wiretap you just pulled out of the phone is still in your pocket. There's no point in lying about it."
Genda's shop had recently switched its key charm designs to "Maneki-neko" (beckoning cats). However, according to what Genda told the police, on the day of the crime, the charms had inexplicably reverted to Guan Yu riding the Red Hare.
Genda had only realized this later and had gone door-to-door in Beika-cho's fourth block to retrieve them, fearing the charms would bring "bad luck" or fires to his customers. Naturally, it was Akira who had swapped the charms back to the horse design to lure Genda to the scene.
"Now, for the method of the crime," Heiji said, walking over to the desk lamp.
It was a standard incandescent lamp. Just as they suspected, the bulb was wrapped in layers of flammable tissue paper secured with tape. Tucked between the paper and the glass was a single matchstick.
"A 100-watt lightbulb reaches surface temperatures of over 200°C. Anyone can guess what happens when you wrap it in tissue and stick a match in there," Heiji explained. "This was your timed incendiary device."
On the night of the fire, around 7:20 PM, witnesses had seen Akira and Misao Soga out drinking. However, according to the testimony of the boy next door, the fire didn't actually break out until after 7:30 PM. This explained why the boy saw a "clear, steady shadow of a horse" on the curtain.
Because the bulb was muffled by the tissue paper, it didn't emit much light at first. Ten minutes later, the timer "expired." The tissue ignited and fell to the floor, setting the spilled kerosene ablaze. The 100-watt bulb, suddenly unobstructed, flared to life, projecting the silhouette of the horse on the neighbor's curtains.
Watching Kamen Yaiba while peering through the curtains was the neighbor boy's ritual. Akira only had to practice a few times to master the timing of the match and tissue to create his perfect alibi.
"Fine! Yes, I was going to do it tonight! Because... because that man Genda burned down my house! He killed Ryoko!" Akira shouted, his mind racing to find a new angle. He tried to claim he was here for revenge.
He claimed the wiretaps were to "monitor" Genda, the "dangerous sleepwalking arsonist." As a professional, Akira was mentally resilient; he wasn't going to break easily.
"There are plenty of traces of you in this house, but the most important one is this," Inspector Yumiura said, pulling the "Red Hare" base from his pocket.
The police forensics lab had already confirmed it: this was the "smoking gun." Comparison marks proved it had been sliced from the bottom of the horse found at the third arson site. More importantly, Akira's fingerprints were all over it.
This was the evidence Mrs. Morozumi had clutched in her hand—the truth she refused to let go of even as she died.
"What a terrifying woman," Tsuneo muttered. He remembered that, in addition to this evidence, the wife had also hidden incriminating videotapes in the house.
"The reason she hired a detective was because she noticed someone prowling around the villa at night," Heiji said, glancing at Tsuneo before looking back at the culprit. "Based on how she refused to let us in earlier, she had already discovered what you were doing and likely tried to strike some kind of deal with you."
In a way, that woman truly was formidable.
"Aah, that's right! She saw through me! She realized I was the arsonist and came to me with that key charm base, demanding a divorce and threatening to kick me out of the house!" Akira roared, slamming his fist against the floor.
Curse it all. He had calculated everything, but he hadn't accounted for the fact that the woman had kept such a lethal insurance policy. If he had just inherited the house, he could have torn it down and built his dream hospital legitimately.
"Huh?" Tsuneo tilted his head, looking down at Akira. "When you were burning her alive, didn't you have any other thoughts?"
Akira blinked, confused. "Other thoughts?"
He just wanted to burn the house down so he'd have an excuse to build his hospital. When his wife wouldn't cooperate, he decided to burn her with the house—two birds with one stone. He didn't understand what this "handyman" was getting at.
"You really didn't know?" Tsuneo asked, his voice dropping to a low, cold whisper. "You didn't know about the relationship between that feng shui master and your wife?"
Inspector Yumiura, hearing Tsuneo's question, couldn't help but whisper to the dark-skinned high school detective next to him, "That young man's personality is... quite something."
Heiji sighed, looking at Tsuneo. "Really wicked, right?"
(End of Chapter)
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