Chapter 70

The next thing I should do is confirm the actions of the suspects and the victims. I wanted to see if my thinking was on track. That alone might not be enough to understand the trick this time, but if I can see that there were some foreshadowing elements, it would boost my confidence. Conversely, if I find something that contradicts it, I can judge that this truth definitely wasn't the case, and there would surely be some progress.

I quickly left the restroom and started asking Detective Chikage questions.

"Um, Detective Chikage. Did you and Ms. Hasegawa keep in touch after that incident?"

She too came out of the restroom and shook her head. Her expression looked utterly frustrated.

"Well... after I went home that day, she called right away asking, 'Was it really suicide after all...?' When I said, 'I still don't know...,' the call just cut off..."

"After that—"

"Complete silence... I tried calling several times, but... the phone seemed to be powered off completely... If I'd been a better detective, maybe something could've been done..."

"I don't know..."

"Yeah, you're right..."

Detective Chikage let out a sigh, clearly very down. It must have been a shock that she couldn't help Ms. Hasegawa. Well, that's exactly why she slipped out of the hospital—because she wanted to know the truth about her death.

The air was gloomy and smelled awful. Detective Akaba suggested we leave the restroom for a bit, since things were getting mentally tough.

"Let's... head out soon. In the end, we found something odd, but we still don't know what's what, huh..."

Detective Chikage agreed with a quiet "Yes..." Then, in a dark voice, she began to present her reasoning.

"Maybe the reason she couldn't answer the phone... was because someone was threatening her over the phone... That's why she couldn't pick up. She must've known someone else's crime. But Ms. Hasegawa ignored it and refused to respond... and in the end, when she passed through this park, she was attacked..."

I quickly shot down that half-hearted, contradictory deduction. Fox-eyed detective was probably thinking along the same lines.

"Probably... I don't think that's it. Who do you think killed Ms. Hasegawa, Detective Chikage?"

"Hmm, if she knew about some crime, maybe it was Haruki, the waitress... or maybe someone at that department store..."

"Would she walk through such a dangerous place at night? Deliberately going near where the blackmailer might be?"

Detective Chikage let out her trademark "Ugh!" groan. Detective Akaba piled on with another blow.

Well, calling it a blow is an overstatement. She just scratched her cheek awkwardly before sharing the information.

"There was nothing suspicious on the victim's cell phone... Well, if anything stood out... it'd be those dozens of calls from you, Chikage-chan..."

Detective Chikage froze. She'd probably never imagined she'd become the top person of interest. But seriously, how many times did she call? A couple of emails would've been enough.

Once the shock wore off, she spoke again, rethinking based on what we'd said.

"M-maybe... it was the other way around—maybe she was trying to blackmail someone... and was killed for it...? If that's the case, the reason she didn't answer the phone was because Ms. Hasegawa was about to commit the crime of blackmail, and I got scared? Everyone around got scared?"

That theory's wrong... I started to point it out, but Detective Chikage crouched down.

"Detective Chikage!? Are you okay!?"

"Chikage-chan!?"

Detective Akaba and I called out at the same time. Looks like her stomach pain had peaked. At this rate, we wouldn't be investigating or reasoning—just adding a food-poisoning patient to the crime scene.

Worried, Detective Akaba said she'd drive her to the hospital in the car she'd parked nearby.

"We probably won't get any more leads today... When I get back, I'll look into the department store a bit more. You don't have to wait for me."

"Yeah. Let's do that."

"Also, tell the school I was late because of questioning and whatnot. I'll contact them too."

"...Come to think of it, it's a school day..."

We parted ways. It was a pain, but I mixed the case details into my excuse for being late and told the teacher before stepping into the classroom.

A few curious classmates asked about the case, but I brushed them off.

I'm not a detective. Leaking personal info from the crime scene would be bad. I didn't blab about the case to outsiders. Somewhere I heard a voice mocking me, calling me wannabe detective. But that's not it. I never intended to act like a detective.

Everyone crowded around, even knocking over my pencil case just to ask questions... I was too busy figuring out how to escape to spare any brainpower for the case.

After enduring exhausting Thursday classes, I got a call on my smartphone while walking home.

"Huh... Miiko!?"

It was a livestream call. I opened the app, and on the screen she was about to speak. My heart leapt, thinking I could talk to her today. But again, it looked like Miiko wouldn't be speaking to me directly.

It was a one-way stream, her telling the story alone.

"Today let's talk about revenge."

"Revenge...!?"

Another case-related stream. Maybe she'd give me a hint.

Coincidence or inevitability? What I wanted now was the motive. I still didn't really understand the culprit's motive. I hadn't overturned Mr. Uchima's suicide at all. There were still questions about his death. In the end, was dying there his revenge?

"Today let's talk about a girl who, after her brother was killed, set out for revenge. The girl's brother was blamed by a friend for the collapse of their company and driven to suicide."

Another drama today. A sorrowful atmosphere.

"The girl truly loved her big brother. She adored him. When he died she cried and screamed, even trying to follow him in death."

It reminded me a little of Ms. Hasegawa's situation. She too had cried beside the fallen Mr. Uchima, filled with regret.

"Several months after that agony, she wanted to live a proper life again. She wished to live normally, to fall in love normally. She sought the strength to live, to find purpose in work... but..."

"...She ran into him."

"She encountered the man who had driven her brother to suicide—practically murdered him—at her job. The moment he met the girl, the sister, he said a single word: 'Your brother was just unlucky.'"