DN 16: Case Closed

Silence.

Takashi Matsuo's mind went blank, grasping for a retort, but the cameramen and reporters surged with renewed vigor.

The live feed zeroed in on Hayato Masaki's impossibly refined face.

"Masaki-san! Is that really the truth?!"

"You just walked the scene once and figured out the method?"

"Do you have evidence to back your claim?"

"Why pin it on Matsuo-san?"

"Are you standing by your deduction?"

The reporters swarmed like sharks scenting blood, firing questions.

Hayato eased back half a step. Eri Kisaki's hand shot out, shielding him.

But the press kept pushing, demanding answers.

After a brief pause, he spoke. "There should be evidence."

"Let's start with why I suspect Matsuo-san. To shoot accurately from the seventh floor to the fourth, you'd need serious marksmanship."

"Nagai-san mentioned on air that Matsuo-san's a shooting enthusiast, skilled enough to rival pros."

"Then there's Suwa-san, a director, not in the studio during the show but in the sound room—odd. Matsuo-san just said they'd planned to talk there."

"That's likely why Matsuo-san checked Suwa-san's location mid-show."

"And slipping away during the VCR segment."

"All signs point to Matsuo-san."

"But those are just guesses."

"Now for evidence—this method, if true, is riddled with holes."

"Four minutes to kill. The act takes at least two."

"Less than two minutes to clean up gunpowder residue isn't realistic. Maybe a plastic sheet to block it, or swapping clothes entirely—either way, not enough time to erase it all."

"And while I don't know why Suwa-san leaned out the window, it was likely a phone call. Check his last incoming call."

"Oh, and those crates clogging the seventh-floor stairs? Evidence might be stashed there."

Matsuo, dazed, felt his legs buckle.

Megure Juuzo shot him a glance and barked, "Search the seventh-floor stairwell—now!"

Officers scrambled.

But before they left, Matsuo caved, slumping to his knees, face ashen. "No need. I confess."

The reporters froze.

"It's all Suwa's fault, bringing you in with the publisher, Masaki-san. I thought you were just some novelist… my mistake. I was sure this plan was foolproof."

"No murder method's traceless, Matsuo-san."

Matsuo hung his head, silent.

What was there to say now?

Megure waved a hand, ordering his men to cuff Matsuo, then turned to Hayato, his round, genial face breaking into a grin.

"Wow, some mystery novelist! Cracked it in no time!"

"Just a lucky hunch. Glad I could help."

"Thanks either way, Masaki-kun," Megure said, chuckling. "We'll need you for a statement later—"

"Megure-keibu, let's do the statement tomorrow," Eri cut in. "We've got dinner plans to celebrate."

Megure nodded, gracious. "Fair enough. Tomorrow it is. Thanks for your help."

He was in high spirits.

A shooting case had set him on edge, especially without Kudo-kun around. But this? It nearly broke his record for fastest solve.

As he led his team to the squad cars, headed for the station, a call shattered his mood.

"What?! A murder at Tropical Land?!"

"Alright, I'm on my way!"

Sirens wailed as the cars sped toward Tropical Land.

Meanwhile, Hayato and Eri had just shaken off NTV's reporters, climbing into Eri's Mini Cooper in the parking lot.

"You okay, Hayato?" Eri asked.

"Why the sudden worry, Eri-san?"

"…Just thought today might've been a lot for you."

Eri studied his calm expression, hesitating before softening into a gentle smile.

"Good to know you're fine. Let's go—what're we eating?"

"How about yakitori?"

"Feeling like a light dinner, huh? Alright, let's do it."

Eri steered the car out of the lot.

They'd arrived early for the taping, eating light—salads, healthy stuff.

The city glowed at night.

Neon lights danced, and a slow cruise through the breeze felt just right.

During the drive, Eri glanced at Hayato now and then. He gazed quietly out the window, betraying no emotion, and it nagged at her.

His parents had died from gunshots—temple wounds.

That's why she worried seeing Suwa's body might've stirred something.

"Hayato."

"Hm?"

"Let's get Ran out with us in a couple days. You two cousins should properly meet."

"Sounds good."

"It's a plan, then."

***

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