When the First Division officers arrived at the exhibition hall, the area had already been cordoned off. A few officers were huddled beneath the crime scene, gesturing and muttering among themselves as they debated how to extract the body impaled on the wall.
Karasawa stared up at the corpse, silent.
"Karasawa-kun, are you okay?" Ran Mouri asked softly, patting his back. She realized belatedly he wasn't local—probably hadn't seen many crime scenes—and worried the gruesomeness might leave him psychologically scarred.
"Huh?" Karasawa blinked. "Oh, I'm fine. Just thinking... the killer's pretty strong."
"Eh?" Ran was caught off guard.
"That sword's part of the exhibit, right?" Karasawa pointed to the massive two-handed greatsword buried in the victim's neck. "It's dull. And heavy. The killer managed to pick up a full-grown man and nail him to the wall with that thing... That takes serious strength."
Conan winced but restrained himself. Given his disguise, he couldn't exactly sass him for missing the point.
That's what you're focusing on? Really?
Karasawa glanced at Conan. What, you disagree?
He turned to eye the museum staff being questioned by the police. Among them, the elderly curator with long brows and whiskers was answering calmly and coolly.
He couldn't just spin around now and say, "That's the guy!" That would be like scribbling the culprit's name on page one of a mystery novel.
Besides, he genuinely was impressed. He'd felt that way when reading the manga, and seeing the scene in person made it even clearer. That elderly old man, not only wielding a massive sword but doing so while wearing full armor, lifting a man and pinning him to the wall... These Conan-world murderers were truly built different.
"Are you the ones who discovered the body?" A round-bellied inspector approached, notebook in hand. He paused mid-step as he recognized the group. "Wait a minute... Isn't that Mouri's daughter?"
And wasn't the boy beside her Kudo's classmate...? These high school girls were becoming all too familiar faces at crime scenes.
"Nice to see you again, Inspector Megure," Ran offered an awkward smile.
Not like I had a choice... Who goes to a museum and ends up finding a corpse?
Ran dutifully began recounting the sequence of events. Karasawa, having finished mentally profiling Megure, turned back to watch the officers setting up ladders to extract the body.
Conan sidled up to him and whispered, "What are you looking at?"
Geez, Karasawa internally groaned. At least pretend to be a kid. No "excuse me," no formalities. With acting skills like that, how does he expect to keep his cover from those two pro-agents trailing me?
But he let it slide.
"I'm just thinking," Karasawa knelt to better line up his perspective with Conan's. "See that wall the body's hanging from? There are a bunch of exhibit tags there, but no paintings. And look at the dead guy's right hand. Isn't he clutching something?"
"...You're right. That's weird. It's like the body was meant to be there…" Sonoko, sticking close behind Karasawa, chimed in.
Conan narrowed his eyes. Behind them, Inspector Megure had noticed the security camera aimed directly at the scene and ordered someone to retrieve the footage.
Karasawa figured he'd spoon-fed enough hints for now. Time to let the little detective work.
Let's go, baby detective. Time to shine.
This particular case, he recalled, had been one of the rare ones solved by a non-sedated Kogoro Mouri. But with four high schoolers on the scene today, Karasawa had a sneaking suspicion the tranquilizer dart's target list had shuffled.
When Kogoro wasn't around, the number-two target was always…
Karasawa eyed Sonoko, still lingering beside him.
Yeah. She's definitely next in line.
—Thirty minutes later.
"Sir! We found this in Kuwata's locker!"
An officer entered, unwrapping a bloodstained helmet—the same one seen flying off in the CCTV footage as the victim's blood sprayed across the hall.
Megure frowned and turned to the visibly sweating Kuwata. "The note in the victim's hand had your name. The murder weapon was found among your things. What else is there to say?"
Kuwata froze as officers subtly began closing in.
"I didn't do it! I'm innocent!"
"The deceased discovered you were selling museum items on the side. His phone contains emails demanding a massive compensation. You had every reason to want him dead."
"B-but...!" Kuwata's legs gave out. He glanced around in panic.
Conan frowned. This isn't right. If they didn't intervene now, Kuwata was going to be railroaded.
He reached for his wristwatch.
Karasawa: ...Seriously?
He sighed internally.
What's with this world's legal system? Everyone acts like once you're cuffed, you're done. If you're innocent, just go to the precinct and prove it! Calm down, man!
But Conan wasn't picking up on his sarcasm. He was too busy scanning for the best "voice puppet" to use.
Ran had wandered off to look at more paintings. Of the remaining candidates, only Sonoko and Karasawa were nearby.
Logically, Karasawa was the better choice—he'd provided the most insights so far—but Conan didn't know him well enough to imitate his tone or personality accurately.
So, reluctantly, he aimed at Sonoko.
Pressed the button. The tranquilizer dart shot forward.
But at that exact moment, Karasawa shifted. Seemingly intent on stopping the officers from arresting Kuwata, he stepped forward—
—and the dart struck his arm instead.
He froze. Staggered. Sat back onto the step-ladder the officers had been using to retrieve the corpse. Head drooping.
Conan's pupils dilated. Shit.
He wasn't supposed to get hit!
No time to panic. He ducked behind the ladder, flipped his voice-modulating bowtie to Karasawa's register, and cleared his throat.
"Karasawa-kun?" Sonoko gasped, seeing him slump. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Sonoko-san," Karasawa's voice echoed, now laced with solemn gravitas. "I just need to sit down and think. Inspector Megure—now is not the time to name the culprit."
"Hoh?" Megure turned to look at the boy who had seemingly collapsed, now speaking like a seasoned veteran. "You have a theory, young man?"
His eyes lit up.
Could it be...? Another genius teenage detective on the rise? He'd thought so earlier when observing him at the scene…
Megure's decades of experience with external brains had taught him not to question the logic of teens dramatically sitting down to monologue. So he gestured for the floor to be his.
Tokyo might just have gained another high school detective.
God help us all.