By the time the officers from the First Division arrived at the exhibit hall, the scene had already been cordoned off. The area around the body had been cleared, and a few uniformed cops were gesturing around the corpse, discussing how best to remove the dead man, who'd been impaled against the wall.
Karasawa looked up at the body in silence.
"You okay, Karasawa-kun?" Ran Mouri asked, suddenly remembering he was from out of town and probably hadn't seen many murder scenes. She gave him a gentle pat on the back, worried that the grisly state of the corpse might leave him traumatized.
"Hm?" Karasawa blinked out of his thoughts. "Oh, I'm fine. Just thinking... the culprit's pretty impressive."
"…Huh?" Ran was taken aback.
"That's an ornamental sword from the exhibit, right?" Karasawa pointed at the massive two-handed greatsword embedded in the wall. "It's not exactly sharp, and it's made of solid iron. To hoist a guy this big and nail him to the wall like that takes serious strength…"
Conan twitched at the edge of his mouth. Given his current persona, he refrained from making a snide comment.
That's what you're focusing on?
Karasawa caught Conan's side-eye.
Well, what else is there?
He quietly shifted his attention to the museum staff being questioned by the police. The long-browed, long-bearded curator was holding up remarkably well under scrutiny, answering questions with calm composure.
No way he could just turn around and say, That's the killer, right there. That wouldn't count as deduction.
Besides, Karasawa genuinely thought the killer was pretty badass. He'd thought so back when he read this case in manga form—and seeing it in real life only deepened his respect. An old guy with a full-on beard, not only swinging around an iron sword, but managing to lift a full-grown man while wearing armor and pin him to a wall? That's not just strength—that's technique.
Criminals in the Conan universe really were built different.
"Were you the ones who found the body?" asked a chubby inspector with a notepad as he approached. But when he saw who it was, he paused. "Wait—isn't this Mouri's daughter…"
And wasn't that other one a classmate of Kudo's? These high school girls were starting to look like regulars at crime scenes…
Ran gave a wry smile. "Inspector Megure. We meet again."
It wasn't like she wanted this. Who goes to an exhibit expecting to stumble upon a murder?
She expertly began recounting how they'd found the body, while Karasawa, having sized up the famously seasoned inspector, turned back to watch the officers set up two ladders in preparation to take the photographed corpse down.
Conan, noticing Karasawa's gaze had shifted again, leaned over and whispered, "What are you looking at?"
A little kid not using honorifics and not calling people by name—he wasn't even pretending. With acting like this, could Conan's paper-thin disguise really hold up against two professional undercover agents?
Karasawa quietly grumbled to himself, then decided it was time to fast-track the detective. He glanced downward to gauge the distance, then crouched and pointed. "Look at the wall where the body's hanging. There are several exhibit labels, but no actual paintings. And look at the victim's right hand—he's holding something, isn't he?"
"Huh, yeah, you're right. That's weird… it's like the spot was reserved for the body." Sonoko Suzuki, who had been glued to Karasawa's side, also nodded in agreement.
Conan narrowed his eyes and slipped into deduction mode, while behind him, Inspector Megure had spotted a security camera pointed directly at the body and was already ordering someone to pull the footage.
Karasawa figured that was enough clues for now. Time to wait for the surveillance video—he'd feed Conan more when the time came.
Go get 'em, little detective.
That said, this was one of those rare cases where Mouri Kogorou doesn't get tranquilized and solves the case himself. But today, instead of the usual trio, they had four high school students on the scene. The odds of the tranquilizer needle making an appearance just went way up.
And if you had to sort candidates by stabbing order when Mouri Kogorou wasn't around…
Karasawa glanced at Sonoko, who was still tailing him step for step.
…Yeah, she's a viable target.
Half an hour later.
"Sir! We found this in Kubota's locker!"
An officer rushed into the hall, carefully unwrapping a cloth bundle to reveal a helmet—stained red with blood from the victim, as seen on the surveillance footage.
Inspector Megure frowned and turned to the now visibly nervous museum staffer. "The note found in the victim's hand had your name on it. And now the murder weapon turns up in your locker. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Kubota looked around helplessly as the officers subtly closed in. "It wasn't me! I swear I didn't kill him!"
"The victim had already discovered your scheme to sell exhibit pieces on the side. His phone contains emails demanding hefty compensation. That's a very solid motive." Megure gave a nod. "You can explain yourself at the station."
"I…" Kubota was drenched in cold sweat, eyes darting in panic.
He really wasn't the killer. Conan's brow furrowed—he couldn't let this go on any longer. If he didn't act now, Kubota was going to be railroaded.
He flipped his wristwatch open.
Meanwhile, Karasawa stood to the side, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.
Seriously, what is wrong with the criminal justice system in this world? Why does getting hauled to the station feel like an automatic conviction? If you're innocent, just explain it there!
Conan, of course, couldn't hear Karasawa's mental complaints. He was busy deciding whom to use to deliver the deduction.
Ran had wandered off to look at paintings, bored by the wait. Among the people left nearby, the most familiar were Sonoko and Karasawa.
Truthfully, Karasawa had been sharp the whole time, noticing details and feeding clues—but Conan barely knew him, and couldn't imitate his mannerisms with confidence. Too risky.
So he settled on Sonoko Suzuki, currently leaning on her elbow, waiting for someone to call out the culprit.
He pressed the button. The tranquilizer dart shot out.
Only for Karasawa to suddenly shake his head and step forward, as if about to stop the police.
Conan's eyes widened. Oh no—they were standing too close together!
Sure enough, Karasawa's step put him directly in the dart's path. It hit his arm. His body froze, then he stumbled back two steps and collapsed, slumped against the ladder the officers had used to access the body. His head dropped forward, motionless.
Wrong target!
Conan clenched his jaw. No choice now—he had to improvise. He ducked behind the ladder, pulled out the voice-changing bowtie, and began adjusting it to match Karasawa's voice.
"Karasawa-kun?" Sonoko turned around, startled to see him suddenly sit down. "Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine, Sonoko-san. I just wanted to sit down and think through the contradictions." Karasawa's voice came out clearly, stopping her from stepping any closer. "It's still too early to name the culprit, Inspector Megure."
"Oh?" Megure turned back, eyeing the inexplicably seated Karasawa. Several faces of high school detectives flashed through his mind—and his eyes lit up.
Could Tokyo have another rising high school detective? He'd had a hunch about this one ever since they first arrived.
Megure, long accustomed to various "external brains" hijacking his cases, promptly stopped thinking for himself.