"How tall is Mrs. Nishikawa?" Shuichi Hayashi asked, standing outside Yukiko's bedroom door.
"About ten centimeters shorter than me, I think," Yukiko Fujimine replied, puzzled. "Why?"
Yukiko was around 165 centimeters tall, so Mrs. Nishikawa would be about 155 centimeters? And then there was the missing tall young security guard…
The pieces clicked into place, and Shuichi's suspicion solidified. "I'm going to check 1009," he said quickly. "Use the apartment's security system to alert the guard at the entrance—those people might not be real paramedics! Tell him to be careful, then call the police!"
"Huh?"
Yukiko was baffled, but before she could ask more, Shuichi's footsteps were already fading down the hall.
Though confused, she remembered Shuichi had helped the police solve several cases before. Trusting his instincts, she grabbed a nightgown, slipped it on, and hurried to the entryway. She pressed the intercom button for the security room.
No response. The line was dead.
This was a high-end apartment with regularly maintained security systems—there was no way it should be down.
"What's going on?" Yukiko muttered, sensing something was wrong. She grabbed the phone and dialed the police. "Hello, I need to report a crime! Someone's posing as paramedics…"
After hanging up, she rushed out to find Shuichi and get answers.
In the corridor, Shuichi reached apartment 1009 and tested the door. Locked. He pulled out his wallet, fished out a flexible plastic card, and gripped the doorknob. With one hand, he slid the card into the door seam, working it up and down.
"What are you doing?" Yukiko caught up, staring in shock. "The door's locked—there's no way you can—"
Click.
Before she finished, the door to 1009 swung open.
"How is that possible?" Yukiko's eyes widened, her mouth agape like a startled frog. "The apartment doors are that easy to break into?"
Shuichi ignored her and stepped inside.
"Hey, this is breaking and entering!" Yukiko said, her voice tense. After a moment's hesitation, she followed him in.
Inside, she froze. The apartment was a mess—clothes, socks, blankets, and random items strewn everywhere.
"What… what happened here?"
"Those people were probably robbers," Shuichi explained, moving swiftly to check each room.
In the master bedroom's closet, he found a middle-aged woman bound tightly with ropes, her mouth sealed with duct tape.
"Mrs. Nishikawa?" Yukiko gasped.
Shuichi pulled her out of the closet and tore off the tape.
"Call the police! Catch those robbers!" the woman sobbed loudly. "They took my jewelry, everything valuable in the house!"
Downstairs, at the apartment building's entrance, the older security guard, unaware of the security system's failure, saw the doctor and two orderlies pushing the stretcher out. He approached, concerned. "How's Mrs. Nishikawa doing?"
"She's critical—needs to get to the hospital now!" the masked doctor snapped. "Open the door quick! Every second counts, or she could die!"
"Oh, uh…" The guard, not wanting to risk a life, hurriedly opened the door.
As the medical team wheeled the stretcher away, the guard glanced toward the elevators, puzzled. "Weird… didn't Yoshikawa go up with them? Why hasn't he come back?"
Outside, the storm raged on, though the rain had eased slightly. The doctor and orderlies reached the ambulance, but before they could load the stretcher, a piercing siren cut through the air. A police car pulled up nearby.
The two orderlies exchanged a nervous glance. "What do we do?" one muttered, swallowing hard.
"Don't panic," the doctor hissed. "We're paramedics. Just get her into the ambulance."
As the orderlies opened the ambulance's rear doors, two young officers stepped out of the police car, blocking their path. "We got a report about impostor paramedics. Which hospital are you from? Show us some ID."
"We're from Mihama Central Hospital," the doctor said, feigning urgency. "This patient's having a heart attack. We need to get her to the hospital now. If we're delayed and something happens to her, are you taking responsibility?"
The officers hesitated. They wanted to investigate but feared the consequences of delaying a real emergency.
Just then, a window on the tenth floor flew open. A girl's voice rang out, sharp and clear despite the rain. "Those hospital people are fakes! They're robbers!"
The officers caught her words. The one holding a gun snapped to attention. "You three, hands up! Line up, now!"
"We're really from Mihama Central Hospital," the doctor insisted, raising his hands. "That girl's crazy—don't listen to her. Any more delays, and the patient's life is at risk!"
The two orderlies complied, raising their hands and standing beside the doctor.
Their cooperation made the officers exchange uncertain glances. "Show us your hospital ID," the unarmed officer demanded.
"It's right here," the doctor said, reaching into his coat with his right hand.
The night was dark, the rain relentless. Both officers' eyes instinctively followed the doctor's hand.
In that split second, the armed officer felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. His vision went black, and he collapsed.
The second officer turned, only to see the "patient" on the stretcher sitting up, clutching a metal box. "You—"
Before he could react, the box smashed down.
Thud!
The officer crumpled beside his partner, both unconscious in the rain-soaked street.
(End of Chapter)