No matter how sophisticated the digital security systems were, they might as well have been made of paper to someone with Gustave's electromagnetic abilities. His consciousness flowed through the networks like lightning through copper wire, and within minutes he had uncovered something very interesting about Tomokazu Yamashita's finances.
"Well, well," Gustave murmured, his fingers still dancing across the keyboard for show. "Our stubborn friend has been quite busy."
The data painted a clear picture: Yamashita maintained two separate accounts—one with Citibank, another with UBS—and had been making regular transfers to a Wells Fargo account registered under the name Hanako Matsuda. Following this digital trail deeper, Gustave discovered that this Matsuda account had been incredibly active, with massive expenditures concentrated in one particular location.
"Las Vegas," he said with satisfaction. "Of course."
Using his powers to hack into the surveillance systems of major Las Vegas casinos proved almost laughably easy. The security footage confirmed his suspicions—there was Tomokazu Yamashita, clear as day, gambling away enormous sums over the past two years. The Matsuda Hanako account was obviously his alias.
"Conan!" Gustave called out, his voice carrying a note of triumph. "I found our breakthrough."
The young detective rushed over immediately, hope lighting up his features. "What kind of clue?"
"Our Mr. Yamashita has been making frequent trips to Las Vegas over the past two years," Gustave explained, pulling up the surveillance footage and financial records. "His spending habits are rather impressive—over one hundred million yen impressive."
Conan's eyes widened as he absorbed the implications. "So Yamashita has a serious gambling addiction and lost massive amounts in Vegas. Even with his substantial income from the Fujiwara Group, that kind of money is way beyond his means."
"Exactly." Gustave leaned back in his chair with the satisfied air of a chef who had just perfected a complex sauce. "But while Yamashita personally doesn't have access to that kind of wealth, the Fujiwara Group certainly does. And given his high position within the organization..."
"He embezzled corporate funds to cover his gambling debts!" Conan finished excitedly. "But the hole kept getting deeper, and eventually he'd face exposure. So he desperately needed to find a way to fill that financial gap before anyone discovered what he'd done."
"Precisely. And when someone's that desperate," Gustave continued, enjoying the logical progression of their deduction, "they become vulnerable to blackmail. Someone must have discovered his secret and used it as leverage."
Conan clapped his hands together, his detective instincts fully engaged. "The pieces are finally coming together! We just need to follow this thread to find concrete evidence."
"Go get Inspector Megure," Gustave instructed. "We'll present our findings and have them audit the Fujiwara Group's financial records. That should provide the smoking gun we need."
"Right away!" Conan dashed off with renewed energy.
Inspector Megure had been pacing the office, running his hands through his hair as the pressure mounted. When Conan approached with obvious excitement, hope flickered in the veteran detective's eyes. He immediately followed the boy back to Gustave's workstation.
After reviewing the evidence and reasoning Gustave presented, Megure slapped his thigh decisively. "This is it! This is exactly what we needed!" He hurried off to obtain authorization from Director Odagiri Toshio, and within the hour, the Metropolitan Police had dispatched forensic accountants to conduct a full audit of the Fujiwara Group's finances.
But Gustave wasn't finished. His electromagnetic senses had uncovered another crucial piece of the puzzle—meeting records showing that Yamashita had been in contact with someone else. Coffee shops in New York, restaurants in Tokyo—seven documented meetings over the past six months.
"Conan, take a look at this face," Gustave said, enhancing the surveillance image of Yamashita's mysterious contact. "Do you recognize him?"
The young detective studied the screen intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I know I've seen him somewhere recently... Let me think..."
Gustave could almost see the gears turning in Conan's head as the boy's exceptional memory worked through recent encounters. After several tense minutes, recognition dawned.
"That's Makoto Saionji!" Conan exclaimed. "He's Hajime Saionji's older brother!"
"Are you certain?" Gustave asked, though the boy's confidence was unmistakable.
"Absolutely certain. I never forget a face."
"Then we have our complete picture," Gustave said with the satisfaction of a master chef adding the final garnish to a masterpiece. "This is a classic wealthy family internal power struggle. Whether Makoto Saionji is fighting for inheritance rights or nursing some other grievance against his younger brother, one thing is clear—he doesn't want Hajime to remain in the picture."
"And when Makoto discovered Yamashita's embezzlement," Conan continued, following the logic, "he saw his opportunity. Both men were members of the Mid Night club, which made blackmail easy to arrange through their shared activities."
"Exactly the kind of family drama you'd expect among the wealthy elite," Gustave concluded. "Greed, betrayal, and sibling rivalry all wrapped up in one ugly package."
Conan grinned up at him. "I have to admit, Gustave, you've got real detective talent! Maybe you should consider a career change."
Thwap!
"Don't get cocky, kid," Gustave replied, having delivered a light tap to Conan's head. "I'm just enjoying a temporary diversion from cooking. Speaking of which..." He stretched and settled back into his chair. "My part here is done. Present all this evidence and reasoning to Inspector Megure. The Metropolitan Police can handle gathering any remaining proof."
If this had been the One Piece world, Gustave reflected with amusement, he would have simply confronted Yamashita directly and used his lightning powers to extract a confession. But there was something satisfying about playing detective, using his abilities in creative ways to solve puzzles through investigation rather than intimidation.
Conan made exaggerated threatening gestures at the relaxed chef, mentally subjecting him to various forms of revenge before picking up the computer to find Inspector Megure.
The veteran inspector was amazed by the speed and thoroughness of Gustave and Conan's work. It really drove home how much the Metropolitan Police needed to improve their own capabilities if they wanted to handle cases without relying on outside help.
Still, with such comprehensive evidence and reasoning handed to him, Megure could follow up on every lead to fill in any remaining gaps.
Hours crawled by with agonizing slowness. Fourteen of their eighteen-hour deadline had elapsed, yet there was still no word from the forensic accountants auditing the Fujiwara Group's books, and the team searching for Makoto Saionji had also gone silent. Inspector Megure paced back and forth like a caged animal, checking his watch every few minutes.
"Megure, I hear you've uncovered the truth of this case?"
The familiar voice made everyone look up. Taiga had entered the office of Homicide Divison 3, his expression unreadable but his timing ominous.
"Yes, we've deduced what really happened," Megure replied carefully. "We're just completing the evidence collection now."
"Then why don't you brief me on your findings and reasoning? I'll handle the rest from here."
Megure's posture stiffened. "Taiga, what are you getting at? We still have time left."
"Relax, Megure," Taiga said with a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm not going to do anything improper. You can observe the entire interrogation process if you want."
While Taiga was indeed known for his less conventional methods of extracting confessions, he was also highly skilled at legal interrogation techniques. Years of studying criminal psychology had given him an almost supernatural ability to break down suspects' mental defenses through perfectly legitimate means.
After a moment's hesitation, Megure nodded. "Fine. I'll share what we've discovered."
The race against time was about to enter its final phase, and one way or another, Tomokazu Yamashita's stubborn silence was about to come to an end.