Chapter 25: Should Have Said It Was Suicide from the Start

“Sorry, where I take you next depends on whether you’re the culprit,” Sato said expressionlessly.

After hearing from Yumi Miyamoto about Shoichi’s car theft, Sato had a poor impression of him, assuming he wasn’t a law-abiding person.

Shoichi shook his head.

This policewoman really didn’t give him any face.

“It doesn’t matter if I eat or not, but there’s a child here who hasn’t had dinner yet,” Shoichi said.

Not to mention, you insisted on bringing her out, he thought silently. Still, Sato took out a piece of bread and handed it to Ai to stave off her hunger.

Ai quietly thanked her and nibbled on the bread.

Shoichi patted Ai’s head, placed an earphone on her, and gently said, “You can’t relax studying just because you’re in the car. Listen to some French.”

Ai nearly choked on the bread.

Ah, suffocating parents.

Sato soon drove downstairs.

She reminded Shoichi, “There are some unpleasant things upstairs. I suggest the little girl wait here; we’ll have officers accompany her.”

“No need. It’s good for kids to gain some experience,” Shoichi said.

Living in the world of detective science, how could he fear a corpse?

Seeing Shoichi say this so calmly, Sato frowned, finding it hard to imagine how wealthy families raised their children.

After Shoichi led Ai into Yoko Koshino’s home, before he could see who else was there, a familiar voice rang out.

“My autopsy results indicate the deceased died by suicide,” the forensic doctor said expressionlessly to Officer Megure.

Officer Megure’s face darkened.

This forensic doctor had said this more than once. Shoichi was merely a suspect, yet he was so eager to declare the cause of death as suicide?

As a seasoned officer, Megure was naturally composed.

But Sato was less patient. She said to the forensic doctor, “Mr. Nagasou, please recognize your position. You work for the Metropolitan Police Department, not as anyone’s lackey!”

Adjusting his glasses beneath his mask, Nagasou replied seriously, “I’ve always known my position.”

Kogoro Mouri had a temper as well.

Especially when it involved his idol, he rushed towards Shoichi, then suddenly stiffened and collapsed straight back onto his chair.

“Mr. Nagasou is right. The deceased, Mr. Eto, indeed died by suicide.”

“Little brother Mouri, not again!” Officer Megure said helplessly.

Ignoring Megure’s remarks, Kogoro continued his deduction, “But it was just a simple trick using ice.

The knife handle was frozen inside an ice block and placed on the floor. Sitting in the chair and leaning back caused the back-stabbing scene, and there is even an indentation on the floor from the ice block being crushed.

The air conditioning was set so high to melt the ice quickly.”

Megure frowned and asked, “But why would he kill himself?”

“Perhaps because he still deeply loved Miss Yoko,” Kogoro said. “He likely wanted to reconcile with her but mistakenly thought Miss Yuko, who was in the room searching for dirt on Yoko, was Yoko herself.

Yuko fled, making Eto believe Yoko no longer loved him. In despair, he planned suicide to frame Yoko.”

Yoko Koshino looked dazed.

Everyone assumed she was affected by the situation.

Yamagishi clenched his teeth and remained silent.

It was a reasonable theory, with a sufficient chain of evidence and no signs of homicide. It didn’t look like murder at all.

But even so, how long would it take for the ice to melt at that temperature? How long did Eto spend setting up the scene?

In recent days, Yoko had declined many jobs due to her contract nearing expiration, so she was relatively free and spent more time at home.

And that guy, Kogoro Mouri.

He had been loudly clamoring before Shoichi arrived, and as soon as Shoichi appeared, he eagerly put on a show in front of the host.

Such a grotesque desire for attention.

Ai kept staring at Kogoro’s face.

So strange—his mouth didn’t move. Where was the sound coming from?

Shoichi quietly pulled Ai aside and pointed carefully behind the sofa.

Ai’s vision darkened.

A small boy about her height held a bowtie and spoke.

He was completely unaware of Shoichi’s spying.

Shoichi hadn’t even had hot tea yet. Regretfully, he said, “The case is solved, so may I leave now? It’s strange. Although this has nothing to do with me, you always like to call me over, as if you’re biased against me.”

Shoichi felt he was being too gentle.

Despite the suspicion, he didn’t lose his temper. His recent cultivation of patience was really improving.

The others, however, felt he was being sarcastic.

Officer Megure glanced at the deceased once more and sighed, “You may go rest now.”

“Case closed as suicide.”

Forensic doctor Nagasou expressionlessly began packing up.

“I told you it was suicide, but you wouldn’t believe it. Looks like I have the potential to be a great detective.”

Shoichi waved at Sato and asked, “I didn’t drive here. You said you’d take us to the Mioka Grand Hotel for dinner.”

“I never said that.”

Officer Megure helplessly nodded to Sato.

Under Takagi’s worried gaze, she reluctantly went to start the car to drive them.

After all, police officers are meant to be convenient to the public.

Without saying goodbye to the others, Shoichi headed downstairs to the hotel. This place seemed only a resting spot for him.

Sato truly felt she had become Shoichi’s driver—picking him up from home and then taking him to the hotel.

“I’m not taking you home,” Sato said stubbornly.

“Of course, after you take me to the hotel, you can clock out,” Shoichi replied.

Sato’s brows knitted together.

Why did he sound like a boss talking to his employee?

That condescending attitude was really annoying.

Ai resumed nibbling on her bread.

See? I told you, it’s not her fault she can’t stand Shoichi.

Shoichi fiddled with his phone a moment, then said to Sato, “Actually, you police officers should listen more to professionals.

For example, that forensic doctor Nagasou has ‘professionally’ determined it’s suicide, so the case should be closed.

You shouldn’t need detective Kogoro Mouri’s deductions to believe it.

It’s not that the police are incompetent—there are many capable people in the Metropolitan Police Department.

When their opinions go unrecognized, that’s when the department seems incompetent.”

Sato gripped the steering wheel tightly, afraid she might lose control and crash into a roadside pole.

Ai had stopped eating and carefully tightened her seatbelt.