Chapter 32: That Was Close—I Almost Thought I Was Just an Ordinary Cop
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The curtains in the study were half drawn, and the sunlight barely managed to filter through the heavy gauze, casting mottled shadows across the dark-red carpet. The air was thick with the scent of wood and old paper, and the silence was so profound that one could almost hear the sound of breathing.
Kiichi Higashino sat in a dark armchair. Across from him sat Shino’s parents, Toshiyuki and Takako Ogawa.
Toshiyuki looked neat and well-groomed in a well-tailored suit, his posture straight. Beside him, Takako sat with her head bowed and both hands clenched in her lap. Though the years had passed, her once meticulously arranged hair had turned noticeably gray, and her skin had grown somewhat dry. Yet the soft, rounded features of her youth could still be seen beneath the years. She had once been a very beautiful woman.
“Good afternoon,” Higashino said first, his voice gentle.
Toshiyuki slowly nodded. “Please forgive our discourtesy. Our family… has not received outsiders for a very long time.”
He paused.
“May I ask why you have come?”
“I’m here because of the case from four years ago,” Higashino replied.
Toshiyuki showed no surprise. Only his eyes shifted slightly, and his voice dropped a little.
“Shino’s… case. The police already reached a conclusion. We thought… no one would ask about it again.”
“I heard that the police never actually had conclusive evidence,” Higashino said evenly. “And the maid who was suspected… killed herself, didn’t she?”
Toshiyuki nodded. “Yes. Satsuki Murase. The police and the detective believed she was the only person capable of creating the locked room, although the evidence truly was… far from conclusive.”
He lowered his head and looked at his interlaced fingers.
“Her suicide note was very short. She did not confess to anything. We do not know whether she… acted because she was afraid of being investigated…”
Takako’s shoulders trembled faintly, but she never raised her head.
“Do you also believe she was the culprit?” Higashino asked. “Did she have some sort of conflict with Miss Shino?”
Toshiyuki shook his head. “No. They were very close… You could even say that she was the only person Shino truly trusted.”
His voice sank lower.
“Shino often suffered from insomnia, and her emotions were unstable. Satsuki was the only one who could calm her. They were not merely mistress and servant… They were more like sisters.”
“Did Shino always have trouble sleeping?”
“Yes.” Toshiyuki nodded. “The doctor said it was not a physical problem, but one caused by her emotional state. After Satsuki came, Shino could sleep more peacefully whenever she stayed beside her.”
At that point, Higashino spoke softly.
“Forgive me, but there may be one more matter… At the inn, I heard some rather unpleasant rumors. They concerned Mr. Soichiro’s death twenty years ago, as well as the disappearance of Miss Mana and the old steward, Masao.”
Toshiyuki’s fingers tightened slightly.
“…We heard about that long ago.”
He looked up at Higashino.
“Mr. Soichiro’s death was indeed sudden. But a doctor was present at the time, and the conclusion was that he had died of a natural illness.”
Takako added quietly, “After Mana and Masao left, tire tracks were found near the cliff… After that… there was no further news.”
Toshiyuki fell silent for a moment before saying softly, “There were no bodies and no witnesses. They simply ‘disappeared.’”
Takako’s voice trembled.
“I went to the cliff myself… From that day on, everyone kept their mouths shut.”
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“I understand.” Higashino nodded slowly. “Thank you both for your cooperation. Next, I would like to see Miss Shino’s room. Would that be all right?”
Toshiyuki rose to his feet, his tone calm. “Of course. I’ll take you there.”
At last, Takako raised her head. Her eyes were pale, yet resolute.
“Please remember that she was our daughter…”
The air fell silent for a moment.
Toshiyuki spoke softly. “Her room is at the end of the second floor. She loved sunlight… but after that, those curtains were never opened again.”
“Thank you.”
Higashino stood and left.
As he turned, he saw Toshiyuki squeeze his wife’s hand tightly.
Renzo led Higashino to the room at the far end of the second floor. The moment he opened the door, the fresh fragrance of lavender drifted out from within.
“This was the young miss’s favorite flower. Even after all these years, the master and mistress still arrange the room as they always did,” Renzo explained.
Higashino stood at the doorway, taking a slow breath before stepping inside.
The room was not large, and its layout was symmetrical. Deep-purple curtains were drawn tightly shut. A writing desk stood beside the window, its wooden surface polished smooth with age. The bed was neatly made, and the cabinets were closed. There was not a trace of disorder.
The room was immaculate, as though its owner had merely stepped out for a little while.
He examined the desk, then walked over to the window.
The police report had recorded the solution to the locked room, as deduced by the anonymous detective.
“The screws here have already been replaced,” Renzo explained.
“Yes, I understand.” Higashino knew perfectly well that four years had passed; it was impossible for the scene to have remained untouched.
He examined the cabinets in various parts of the room.
Everything seemed to be where it belonged, yet it had clearly been carefully organized. The room was orderly in a way entirely different from the slight untidiness of a place that was actually being lived in.
It would be difficult to find anything useful here.
And yet…
He thought of what he had just seen beside the window.
Even if one used the method of shortening the screws that secured the window, then fixing it in place with adhesive in order to enter and leave the room, the idea that a high-school girl could escape unharmed from the second floor…
Not every high-school girl was Ran Mouri.
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Even a B-rank fighter possessed abilities that most people could never hope to attain in their entire lives.
He was now increasingly certain that the maid named Satsuki had been falsely accused.
Perhaps none of what had happened here truly had anything to do with the Man Behind the Curtain. But the secrets surrounding this villa…
Perhaps Shino really had committed suicide. Yet the shadow that had hung over this villa for twenty years was far more complicated than that.
Something had happened here before—and something was still happening now.
The couple, Toshiyuki and Takako, seemed to know something, but they were unwilling to speak.
“Thank you very much for allowing me to investigate this place.”
After leaving Shino’s room, Higashino returned to the study under Renzo’s guidance.
“It is getting late. Please stay and have dinner with us,” Takako invited him politely, her head bowed.
Higashino naturally accepted.
The longer he remained in the villa, the better his chances of uncovering the truth.
And so Renzo led him once more to the dining room.
By then, Soichiro’s eldest son, Junya Ichijo, and his family had arrived.
Unlike Shuhei, whom Higashino had already seen at the entrance, Junya Ichijo had grown to resemble the Soichiro in the portrait more and more with age. He was tall and upright, with a short, neatly trimmed haircut and impeccably groomed gray at his temples. His wife, Harumi Ichijo, wore a long dress. She was a gentle, mild-mannered woman with the refined air of a lady from a bygone era.
“How does someone like this manage to get in here?” Shuhei asked, once again wearing that contemptuous expression as he looked at Higashino.
“Shuhei!” Junya rebuked him. “I believe this gentleman is a guest.”
Shuhei pouted, but in the end he said nothing more.
After the introductions were made, Junya Ichijo spoke.
“I have heard of you.”
Only then did Higashino suddenly realize that his earlier self-introduction had not triggered the legendary ‘who in the world does not know you’ effect of the Conan universe.
He had nearly forgotten that he was living in a world governed by Conan-style logic.
Good thing he had not started thinking of himself as an ordinary cop.