Conan gripped the windowsill, peering outside.
Spotting the situation under the streetlight, his pupils narrowed. He leapt off the sill, bolting for the door, shouting back at Tsuneo, "Come with me!"
"I'm scared!" Tsuneo protested, fresh off dinner and not keen on a sprint.
"Call the police and an ambulance—now!" Conan yelled, already out the door.
Tsuneo glanced at the spooked Teitan trio, grabbed the phone from the table, and stepped to the window, dialing Officer Megure.
"Oh? Tsuneo, my man, what's up?" Megure's tone was warm, recognizing the repairman's voice.
Sure, Mouri was something else these days, but Megure preferred Tsuneo's level-headedness.
"Someone's dead outside my apartment," Tsuneo said, his eyes fixed on the body sprawled under the streetlight, chest still, eyes staring blankly at the sky.
Conan, checking the pulse, shook his head at Tsuneo.
No ambulance needed for this guy anymore.
"What?!" Megure shot up from his office chair.
After getting the address and asking Tsuneo to secure the scene, Megure turned to Sato and Takagi, who were sorting through case files.
"Get forensics. We're heading out now!"
"Yes, sir!" Takagi saluted, sneaking a glance at Officer Sato.
Getting to work a case together? Nice…
…
"How's it looking?" Tsuneo asked, crouching beside the body and noting two stab wounds on the chest, then turning to Conan.
"From his appearance, he was probably just passing by after work," Conan said, scanning the quiet alleys on either side.
"That scream we heard was likely his."
The killer moved fast. Within seconds of the scream, Conan had reached the windowsill, but there wasn't a shadow in sight.
"Wallet's still here, and the briefcase doesn't look touched," Tsuneo said, patting the man's chest and feeling a square object—probably the wallet.
The briefcase nearby held documents and a phone. This didn't scream robbery.
Conan tapped his chin with two fingers, stepping into the shadows beyond the streetlight's reach. He flicked on his watch's flashlight, frowning at the wall ahead.
Tsuneo followed, eyeing the same wall—someone's backyard, no doubt—and grinned. "Guess we just wait for the police to narrow down the suspect."
"Yeah…" Conan murmured.
…
Ten minutes later, several police cars screeched to a halt. Officer Megure directed Sato and Takagi to cordon off the scene.
"So, the first witness was… Conan?" Sato asked, jotting in her notebook, shooting a puzzled look at Tsuneo.
How could Mr. Tsuneo let a kid run out alone to check this?
Clearly, the Tokyo MPD's star officer hadn't yet been won over by the shrunken detective, her face full of question marks.
"This kid's watched too many detective shows. When something like this happens, you can't stop him—he just bolts," Tsuneo said, ruffling Conan's hair with a grin.
"Alright, Conan, besides the victim, did you see anyone else from upstairs?" Sato asked, leaning down with a gentle smile.
"When he screamed, he'd likely already been stabbed," Conan said. "About five to eight seconds later, I got to the windowsill. All I saw was the victim, motionless on the ground. No one else was around."
"The killer was quick and light on their feet."
"No murder weapon at the scene, no blood splatter in the alley. After the kill, they probably wrapped the knife in something—clothes, maybe—and fled."
Ahem. Tsuneo coughed, cutting off the detective mid-deduction.
Snapping out of it, Conan blinked innocently at Sato, whose eyes had turned to tiny dots.
"Tsuneo, right?" Conan said, passing the buck.
Your turn to take the heat!
"Yep, I told him all that," Tsuneo said, nodding with a deadpan look.
Tone it down, you little know-it-all!
"Got it," Sato said, quickly scribbling the details in her notebook.
"Hey!"
"Conan, catch the killer yet?" Genta called, leaning out the window, blocking Mitsuhiko, Ayumi, and Haibara's view.
"This guy needs to lose some weight…" Conan muttered, eyeing the kid clogging the window.
"Officer Megure, we've ID'd the victim," Takagi said, jogging over.
"The deceased is Ryuichi Yoshinaga, thirty-five, single, lives alone. He's a department head at a trading company."
"He left work at seven and got here around seven-thirty."
They were still digging into his relationships, so no clear suspects yet.
"Tsuneo, anything to add?" Megure asked.
"The killer's male, around 180 cm tall, probably a bit sloppy or carefree in lifestyle, but in good shape. Smokes regularly," Tsuneo said, stepping outside the police tape to the wall he and Conan had checked earlier.
Conan added, "He's likely left-handed."
"You didn't see the guy, right?" Megure asked, baffled by their specifics.
What's going on here?
How do they know his habits?
Conan flicked on his watch's flashlight again, illuminating the wall.
The dusty surface bore marks where someone had leaned against it with their back.
To the left, black ash from a cigarette stubbed out on the wall.
The cigarette butt was gone, but the traces left behind told a story.
"Takagi, stand here!" Tsuneo said, noting Takagi's roughly 180 cm height, and pushed him against the wall to compare the marks.
"Smoke with your left hand."
"Right heel against the wall."
For the sake of the case, Takagi didn't mind dirtying his suit, standing rigid as Tsuneo positioned him.
Sato, watching Takagi freeze like a marionette, couldn't help but smile.
"Now stub the cigarette on the wall and pocket the butt."
"Left hand, pull a knife from your chest."
Tsuneo guided Takagi's left hand, holding a pen, to tap the wall lightly, then turned to Conan. "That about right?"
(End of Chapter)
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