Chapter 84
Vermouth was dumbfounded.
One wave after another. A perfectly good celebration party had suddenly seen three consecutive deaths. Even she couldn’t help but wonder: was the feng shui of this place bad?
Was the presence of Suspect An, Edogawa Conan, and Mouri Kogoro together so unlucky? How many buffs had they added to the scene?
What now? Vermouth was momentarily lost.
The three deceased had nothing to do with her. She didn’t know the three suspects either. Vermouth wouldn’t get involved in the grudges of strangers for no reason.
She still had a mission from Rum. Rum had told Bourbon and An’an to meet him at a bar under the organization’s name after the celebration party.
The problem was, both An’an and Bourbon had been taken away by Inspector Megure.
Amuro, as a detective, had to go to the police station to give a statement. An’an was the first witness to one of the deaths. Inspector Megure had waved his hand and stuffed the two of them into a police car. “Get in, get in! There’s plenty of room in the police car.”
The wailing police car had dragged them away. How could Vermouth possibly catch up? She couldn’t just go up and say, “I’m also a suspect, take me with you.”
Of all the places to have a team-building event, why did it have to be at the police station? The blond woman, while complaining, took out her phone to contact Rum.
Second-in-command, didn’t you sneak into the banquet hall? Say something, second-in-command.
The message was not marked as read for a long time.
Vermouth’s eyes narrowed.
There were two possibilities for not replying. One, Rum was suddenly busy with something else and didn’t have time to see her message.
The second possibility, Rum couldn’t see the message right now.
“No way…”
Vermouth was reluctant to believe the second possibility. Looking around the entire banquet hall, there were only six people who couldn’t see their messages.
Three deceased, three suspects.
Should she conclude that “Rum is dead” or “Rum has been arrested”?
As Vermouth was pondering, the message she had sent was marked as read.
[Rum: Something came up tonight. Have Bourbon bring the person over another day.]
“Appearing and disappearing like a ghost,” Vermouth breathed a sigh of relief.
She threw her phone into her bag and called out to her agent. “It’s time to leave. Let’s go.”
Rum had always given the impression of being very mysterious in the Black Organization. Vermouth, who was a secretive person herself, couldn’t be bothered to ask him what “something came up” was. If she asked, she might even be falsely accused of prying into a secret mission.
As long as he replied to her message, it was fine. There was nothing else for Vermouth to do.
The blond woman left, feeling light and free. On the other side, three phones were lined up on the table in the interrogation room.
Furuya Rei read the message he had replied to Vermouth again and nodded. “No problem. She probably didn’t suspect anything.”
He had deliberately mentioned the matter Rum had instructed Vermouth on in the message, without going into too much detail. As expected, Vermouth had tactfully not asked any more questions.
A lack of trust and a taboo against prying into each other’s affairs was the corporate culture of the Black Organization. Public Security had used this to their advantage.
With Vermouth’s message, Rum’s identity was now clear.
“Wakita Kanenori,” Furuya said with a complicated expression. “To think it was him.”
He’s hidden so deep. Do all the high-ranking members of the distillery these days love to work part-time in Beika and be Mouri Kogoro’s disciple?
If he could, Bourbon really wanted to say to Rum: I was here first! Can’t you not plagiarize other people’s ideas?
“In that case, how should we deal with the other two suspects?” Kazami Yuya asked.
He had received an order from his superior midway, had taken over the case from the First Division in the name of Public Security, had taken the three suspects to separate interrogation rooms, and had quickly searched them and taken away their communication devices before they could react.
The manager and the head waiter, who had been brought to the station for the first time, had been treated with such great ceremony and had been shouting for a lawyer.
If it were the First Division who had arrested them, they could indeed have asked for a lawyer.
But this was Public Security’s territory. All that awaited them were endless confidentiality agreements to sign.
“Appease them, promise compensation, sign a confidentiality agreement, but we can’t let them go for now,” Furuya replied.
Kazami confirmed one by one, then couldn’t help but ask, “I know the three ‘deceased’ were all plainclothes police officers who were cooperating with the act, but what about the bullet hole in the chandelier chain and the suspect who appeared by the curtain in the live stream recording? This wasn’t arranged by Public Security.”
Furuya’s expression was subtle. “No, it was all done by Public Security.”
A Public Security officer who had died in the line of duty was still a Public Security officer. He was not twisting the concept.
…
Half an hour ago.
Hiromitsu hung up the phone. Furuya suddenly turned his head to look at An’an, who was standing beside him without a word.
She stood beside him with her hands behind her back, not a trace of guilt on her face.
“Hiromitsu is my loyal subject,” An’an said with conviction. “Don’t think that just because you’re childhood friends, he’ll be on your side. As long as I, the empress, am alive, you will all be concubines.”
To be able to have a palace drama at a time like this. Her love for dog-blood was beyond imagination. As expected of the founder of the distillery’s pure-hate black-moonlight body-double literature. Her level was so high that the undercover Public Security officer was speechless.
“I can’t take it,” the girl shook her head. “Mentor Scotch is a Crime Mentor. How could he only think of a way to sacrifice his own side in this situation? Is your red side’s sense of morality too high?”
Who said it had to be a choice of three?
Detectives have to choose one of three because a wrong choice will ruin their reputation. But does Suspect An have such a thing as a reputation?
Only elementary school detectives make choices. A mature suspect wants them all.
The dark-haired girl clasped her hands under her chin. The shadowy lighting made her look like a supervillain.
And the plan that came out of her mouth was indeed very supervillain-like.
An’an: “First, we’ll kill three people in front of everyone.”
Don’t forget, the celebration party was being broadcast live. How could a live broadcast not have some excitement? What would the dear viewers watch?
An’an may not make public appearances, but she was very fond of her fans. She was determined to make this live broadcast worth their while, to make them feel that they hadn’t come in vain.
Suspect An: On a show, first, kill three people.
The residents of Beika have a special love for the mysterious number 3. How could it be limited to the “pick one of three” of suspects? The deceased also have to keep up with the times, super-sized!
An’an’s thinking was very simple:
A choice of three for Rum. Our side can’t choose for now. Once we make a mistake, it will all be for nothing.
Bourbon had suggested sacrificing his undercover career to lure out Rum. An’an felt it was unnecessary. Of all the jobs he had, the distillery’s paid the most. The Mazda’s repairs were all reimbursed by the Black Organization. This job could not be lost.
An’an thought for a moment. The undercover Public Security officer meant that they would secretly find out Rum’s identity and secretly arrest him, so as not to alert the Black Organization.
As expected of a secretive person. Very secret.
“I have been an honest person my whole life. My best virtue is honesty,” the girl said.
She felt that there was no need to secretly arrest Rum.
“We can just openly arrest him,” An’an said. “Just not in the name of Rum.”
Who is Rum? I don’t know. Aren’t you the staff of the celebration party?
In front of everyone, you openly commit murder. How dare you?
In the name of the tens of millions of viewers in the live stream, face the fate of being arrested, you suspect!
“First, kill, then frame. Walk the path of the villain and leave the villain with no path to walk,” An’an said calmly. “Who agrees, and who opposes?”
At this time, Hiromitsu had quietly arrived at the banquet hall. Faced with Her Majesty’s grand plan, he spoke frankly:
“This subject obeys.”
An’an: As expected of my loyal subject!
What an excellent, loyal subject. Much more sensible than the concubine beside him.
Furuya struggled to digest An’an’s conspiracy.
She was going to create three murder cases in the banquet hall and frame the three Rum candidates respectively. For this, she needed three deceased and three detectives.
There were three detectives at the scene. Edogawa Conan really shouldn’t have come with Mouri Kogoro to mooch off the food. He had only drunk a bottle of baby milkshake, and now he was being dragged onto a pirate ship of faking his career.
“Can Public Security provide three deceased?” An’an asked friendly. “Or do I have to create them on the spot?”
Under her friendly gaze, Furuya silently dialed his subordinate, Kazami Yuya’s, number.
Wake up! It’s overtime! Quick, bring your superior three deceased.
Kazami, who had received the call: It’s over! Mr. Furuya has gone crazy from his undercover work! (screaming.jpg)
“As for how to frame them…” the girl’s friendly gaze shifted to her loyal Mentor Scotch.
Hiromitsu, a former undercover Public Security officer, now a veteran coser. Under An’an’s relentless prodding and urging, he had unlocked a new achievement in his life: ultimate high school level cosplay master.
Hiromitsu: I’ve already cosplayed Gin. I have nothing left to fear. (sorrowful.jpg)
He was the sneaky head waiter who had been lurking by the curtain in the live stream recording.
He was the banquet hall manager who had set up a sniper on the second floor and had shot out the chandelier chain with one shot.
He was the sushi chef who had sprinkled drugs in the sushi and had maliciously poisoned someone.
It was him, it was him, and it was still him. Our friend, Mentor Scotch—it was all him!
Therefore, when faced with his subordinate’s question, Furuya answered without batting an eye, “That’s right. It was all done by Public Security.”
The mastermind, Miss An, was beautifully hidden. Please type “innocent” on the public screen for her.
…
The three Rum candidates were taken away on charges of premeditated murder. The real Rum was in disguise. Vermouth, who was also at the banquet hall, had no idea that her own second-in-command had been grandly arrested.
Public Security: You think you can run after getting in a police car? Your phone! Hand it over!
Wakita Kanenori’s disguise was stripped off. The real Rum was bald, with a wide jaw and no beard. His left eye, under the eyepatch, was a prosthetic.
“So this is what he looks like,” Furuya said, standing in front of a one-way mirror, looking at the heavily guarded Rum.
Rum was expressionlessly cuffed to an interrogation chair.
He knew he had been caught.
He had been betrayed by an undercover Public Security officer!
Rum looked at the mirror in front of him. He knew that the mole was watching him from behind the one-way glass.
“Who is it?” Rum asked. “I’m already on Public Security’s territory. Are you still afraid to show your true face?”
A mere provocation. Furuya didn’t even lift an eyelid. “What are the results of the interrogation?”
“He’s a tough nut to crack,” the subordinate in charge of the interrogation said in a low voice. “Rum has generously admitted that he has a lot of secrets of the Black Organization, but they are all hidden in the organization’s base and require his biometric password to unlock.”
In other words, just catching him was useless. Rum had to be willing to cooperate with Public Security.
“He’s probably not someone who can be tempted by a reduced sentence,” Furuya said lightly.
Good. He didn’t want to give Rum a reduced sentence either.
How could he let him off so easily?
“Continue the interrogation,” Furuya said, giving a short command and leaving without a backward glance.
“Rum really thinks he’s a big deal,” the girl’s mumbling voice came through the blond Public Security officer’s earpiece.
The stern expression on his face faded. Furuya smiled and said gently, “Because he doesn’t know how amazing An’an is.”
“That’s right,” the dark-haired girl puffed out her chest. “A mere Rum. How could he know my skills?”
A biometric password includes a person’s fingerprints, iris, DNA, facial bone structure, gait, voiceprint, tongue print, lip print, and all other features that are unique to a person.
Even a Kaitou Kid-level disguise can only crack a small part of it. And Rum was familiar with Vermouth and knew the terror of the art of disguise.
His biometric password was set to be extremely complicated. It was not something that could be broken by a “disguise,” unless he himself was present.
This was also the source of Rum’s confidence in negotiating with Public Security.
“Poor thing. He lost because he knew nothing about me,” An’an shook her head.
Rum would never have thought that his greatest value was not the information in his head, but his real face.
Just one look was enough. A new skin was added to the Crime Mentor’s skin inventory.
“First it was Gin-aniki, now it’s Rum-sama.”
An’an patted Hiromitsu’s shoulder and said cheerfully, “It’s your turn! The body double has turned the tables!”