The Detective is Already Dead

Chapter 35 - 3.4



Chapter 35 - 3.4

Chapter 35: Chapter 3.4

Ace detective vs. ace detective

It was the day after that phone call with the real Ms. Fuubi.

"But Hel definitely killed Cerberus in front of us. Didn't she?" I said. In a room of our detective office-and-residence...

As Siesta and I poked at our curry, I was trying to get the situation straight in my mind.

"The carrots are as hard as rocks," she complained. "Yeah, it was a mistake to make me cook, huh?" "Why do you sound almost proud?"

"The thing is, I couldn't find the usual kitchen knife anywhere."

"...So that's why the vegetables are in chunks. You broke them up with your hands."

Okay, this isn't the time to be arguing about the curry.

"Anyway, you're right. Cerberus died. I doubt there's any mistake about that."

"Then what was that fake Ms. Fuubi? If that was a transformation ability, then Cerberus really can't be..."

"Which view are you backing, Kimi?"

...Well, no matter which theory we went with, we'd have a contradiction on our hands. Cerberus had seemed to die right in front of us—but then there was no way to explain the fake Ms. Fuubi who'd shown up afterward.

"That means they're either both true or both false." "What is that, a Zen riddle?"

"Don't joke about this." Siesta shoved a spoon with a chunk of potato on it into my mouth. Okay, yeah: This dish was a fail.

"What if our counterfeit cop was actually Hel?" "Hel? But she didn't have a transformation ability—"

"Here's the thing about pseudohumans," Siesta interrupted. "They're created with a certain object as their core. If they inherit the core, they can inherit its special abilities as well."

"Was that the black rock thing that Hel pulled out of Cerberus's chest?" "Exactly. It's conceivable that she stealthily retrieved that and stole

Cerberus's abilities."

"Then you're saying Cerberus himself is already dead, and Hel inherited his ability, pretended to be Ms. Fuubi, and made contact with us?"

That would explain why the heart hunt was still going on, even though Cerberus had died.

In that case, why on earth had Hel visited us? It was a bold move, coming to talk to the two of us and Alicia.

On top of that, she'd gone out of her way to talk about the serial murders she was committing and tell us about the existence of the sapphire eye. A taunt...? No—from an ordinary perspective, it was more likely to have been a trap.

"We still don't know what the truth is. But what we need to do hasn't changed. We'll put an end to these murders."

Yeah, she was right. We'd defeat Hel for sure this time, full stop.

"By the way, do the victims of the current incidents have anything in common? Or are they random, like Cerberus's were?"

"It looks as if they're attacking passersby at random," said Siesta. "Number four was killed last night."

"So is she going around stealing hearts to revive the biological weapon?" "I'm not sure. They might be for herself."

"For herself? ...Oh, I see."

Right. In that last one-on-one fight with Siesta, Hel had pierced her own heart with her blade.

"That being the case, Hel may be going around searching for a replacement heart."

"Can she pull off a dress-up doll trick like that one?"

"She can," Siesta replied casually. "After all, the enemy is a pseudohuman."

...True. We'd been fighting monsters this whole time.

"Still, I'm impressed you managed to find out that much in just a day."

Yesterday, after I'd ended the phone call with Ms. Fuubi, Siesta had vanished into the city by herself. Finally, around dinnertime today, she'd come back with all this information.

"It wasn't easy; they've muzzled the press. Besides, if I'd been at full capacity during those two weeks, I would have picked up on a few things sooner."

"Don't worry about it; rest while you're injured, at least. If you don't, I..."

I broke off. Siesta stole a glance at me.

"No, never mind." I shoveled the nasty curry into my mouth instead of finishing the thought.

Sometimes I worry you might break. To her, my selfish worry would probably just be a nuisance.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a hell of a day," I said to bridge the gap in the conversation.

"True. But in that case..." Unusually, Siesta hesitated. But she didn't have to say it for me to understand.

"Alicia, you mean?"

We'd found a place that would take Alicia in temporarily, but of course that didn't completely resolve the issue. If we threw ourselves into battle with Hel, we'd end up kicking Alicia's problem farther down the road. Siesta was probably concerned about that.

"If this is about me, I'm fine."

Well, if Alicia said so, then we could probably keep our priorities the way they were, but...

"...! A-Alicia, when did you—!"

The next thing I knew, Alicia was on my left, crunching away on the curry I'd made.

"This is way too loud to be curry," she commented.

That was when I finally remembered the eye patch over my left eye. Unless I thought about it, I forgot that my vision was limited.

"Did you wash your hands?"

"Don't treat me like a child. I washed them until my fingerprints wore off." "What are you, a wanted criminal?"

"Kimizuka, that's..."

"Yeah, it's probably her mother."

The woman shrank back before the mob of cameras on her doorstep. "...I'm sorry. There's nothing I can tell you..."

But the reporters kept badgering her until the questions almost sounded

accusatory.

"Kimizuka..." Alicia tugged on my sleeve gently. "Yeah, I know."

Just as I was wondering if there was anything we could do to run that crowd off...

Bang! In the distance, I heard the crack of a gunshot.

After that, things moved fast. Scrambling over themselves again, the media crews dashed off in pursuit of fresher information. Less than a minute later, everyone but us was gone.

"Mercenary bunch, aren't they?"

They were like vermin lunging at scattered bait. Blatantly using the instincts of dumb animals—our ace detective was a little different from the rest.

"I'm impressed, Siesta."

"Do you feel like returning to me now?" she asked, coming up next to me.

She shot me a cold glance.

I don't remember ever dissolving our partnership in the first place, you know.

"...Thanks," Alicia said quietly, temporarily shelving the weird awkwardness in their relationship.

"It's not as if I did it for anyone in particular." "Oh, just say what you mean."

That, right there. Siesta always said that kind of thing to me. I never thought I'd see her on the receiving end.

"Oh!"

Alicia gave a brief cry, as if she'd noticed something. However, by the time I turned around, she was over by the front door, supporting the woman who'd been attacked by the media.

"Hurry, you two!" Alicia called to us.

The woman had nearly collapsed from the sudden release of tension. Both Siesta and I let her lean on our shoulders as well, and together, we helped her into the house.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you," the woman said.

We were in the living room now, and resting a little seemed to have helped

her.

"I'll go put on the kettle for—"

"No, please don't bother." Shakily, she tried to rise from the sofa.

"Are you okay?" Sitting next to her, Alicia slipped in to support her and lowered her to the sofa again. Siesta and I were sitting opposite them.

"I'm so sorry. It was very sudden, and I'm still shaken..."

The woman gazed at a framed photo that stood on a nearby shelf. In it, she and her daughter—the MP who'd died in this incident—were standing together and smiling.

"My husband died young in an accident, and for so long, I was never able to give that girl anything more than hardship... And yet she told me that one day, she'd be rich enough for her mum to live comfortably. And she did—she grew to be a splendid young woman, and she even built me this house. She was far too good for me, and I was so proud of—"

A sob escaped her, and Alicia rubbed her back gently.

"I want to ask you about the day of the incident," Siesta interjected, even as the woman cried. "Did you notice anything unusual about your daughter?" Her phrasing was matter-of-fact, and her expression didn't change in the slightest. As if she believed that was what she should be doing, Siesta did her job.

"...Siesta, listen..."

I saw how I'd misunderstood. She hadn't gotten rid of the media in order to help this woman. She'd wanted to speak to her without anyone getting in the way.

That was how Siesta did things; I'd known that. The intellectual ace detective didn't let fleeting emotions sway her.

"That day...? No. There was nothing particularly unusual before she left the house..."

Dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, the mother seemed to find answering the question painful.

"In that case, when you saw your daughter's body, was anything—" "Siesta."

I wouldn't let her get any further. Siesta glanced at me, then closed her mouth.

"I wasn't able to give her anything," the woman said softly. "I only took what she gave me, and I couldn't give her anything in return. Who'd have

thought it would hurt this much? I never dreamed..."

The tears were streaming down her face now. There was nothing Siesta could say. I'd stopped her, but I couldn't find anything to say, either.

"That's not true."

The voice was so tearful that I thought it belonged to the woman at first, but no—it had come from the person who was sitting beside her.

"No one ever only takes, or only gives. No relationship is that one-sided."

Alicia stood up, tears trickling down her cheeks, and spoke to the woman earnestly.

"If you 'only took' something from your daughter—I'm sure it's because you'd given her so much in the past! Isn't that right?! People's feelings always go both ways. That's how it should be."

She had no proof, and possibly not even a persuasive argument—but Alicia used the steady passion that blazed inside her to fuel her words.

Alicia extended a hand to the person she hoped to save. She was the polar opposite of Siesta; I probably couldn't have pulled it off, either.

"...Thank you."

The woman stood up, then gently pulled Alicia into an embrace. "Somehow, it feels as though my daughter is telling me those things."


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