Kazawa lowered his head, soft brown hair hanging neatly down and completely covering his face, making it impossible for the people in front of him to see his expression.
Suzuki Sonoko grabbed Mouri Ran, who had noticed the commotion and walked over, and whispered excitedly, suppressing her voice, "Is he mimicking your dad? You know, 'Sleeping Kogoro'? Look at Kazawa—it's got the whole vibe! 'Sleeping Kazawa Akira'... so cool!"
"Sonoko..." Mouri Ran reflexively pressed down on the hand Sonoko had pulled out to take a photo, successfully restraining her idol-obsessed classmate.
Conan, squatting behind Kazawa Akira, began explaining the suspicious points in the case.
"The culprit killed the victim deliberately across from this painting to imitate the scene from The Wrath, and had already moved the other exhibits from that spot in advance. Add to that the fact that in the surveillance footage, the suspect was always dressed in the knight's armor that was on display—this led everyone to believe the culprit is someone familiar with the art museum, likely one of the staff.
"But if the killer was that familiar with the location, why choose to commit the crime in a monitored area? They work here and would have had plenty of chances to strike in a blind spot or even just cover the camera temporarily."
Inspector Megure stroked his chin and offered a guess, "Was it because the culprit thought, since they were wearing armor, it wouldn't matter if they were caught on camera?"
"I think it was to make it look like the note in victim Masanaka's hand was a suicide note. In other words, the video footage was planted on purpose. Inspector Megure, take a close look at that piece of paper under the light—on the word 'Kuwata', are there a lot of strange scratch marks?"
Following the suggestion, Inspector Megure took out the evidence bag and checked, nodding. "Indeed, there are lots of horizontal scratches over the writing... don't tell me!"
"Yes. Those were probably the real marks left by the victim before his death. He wasn't writing the name—he was trying to cross it out."
Inspector Megure took out another evidence bag and looked at the ballpoint pen inside. "But the pen we found, the ink flow, the color, the thickness all match. Although we haven't done a full forensic analysis yet, it seems like this is the one that wrote those letters."
"True, it's very likely that this was the pen used to write that line."
"But you just said..."
"But it wasn't the one the victim grabbed last," Conan continued, peeking out from between the two-step ladder and then pulling back in. "When Conan found the pen, the nib was retracted. When someone's dying and throws away a pen, it's unlikely they'd carefully retract the tip. And in the surveillance footage, the culprit never touched the pen from start to finish. After that, we entered, and the museum staff didn't come back into the hall until after the police arrived."
"So that means the killer swapped out the pen after the police showed up—taking advantage of the chaos. Which means... the pen that can't write is still on them!"
Conan reached out with his short hand from between the ladders, aiming to lift Kazawa's right hand and point at the old man with the long beard—Director Ochiai, the curator.
But he grabbed nothing but air.
Conan froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. He looked up—and saw Kazawa, who should have been in deep sleep, supporting himself against the ladder and slowly getting up.
Why's he waking up so fast?! I'm done for!!
Conan reflexively scrambled away from the ladder, ducking behind a display case. If Kazawa stood up and Conan was still behind him, he would've been exposed instantly.
But Kazawa didn't say anything, didn't look confused. He just walked straight over to Director Ochiai.
He reached out and, using a handkerchief, pulled a pen from the director's suit pocket—identical to the one in the evidence bag.
"The pen tip wasn't even clicked out. The culprit must've been in a rush and didn't have time to wipe it clean." Kazawa fluently continued Conan's deduction. "Tell me, do you think we'll find Masanaka's fingerprints on this pen?"
Everyone in the room turned to look at Director Ochiai, all of them wearing stunned expressions.
Except Conan—his shock was directed squarely at Kazawa.
"...What you said is exactly right, kid." Director Ochiai leaned on his cane, a look of wistfulness and resignation on his face.
The officers surrounding Kuwata all turned and moved toward him. Inspector Megure frowned and accepted the pen Kazawa handed over. He drew a line in his notebook—but nothing came out, just as Kazawa had deduced.
The note wasn't a suicide message at all—it was planted in advance with Kuwata's name, trying to frame him!
"Where were you at the time of the crime? Do you have an alibi?" Although he asked, Inspector Megure had already begun signaling his subordinates to get the cuffs ready.
"I was standing here, dressed in this knight armor, waiting for Masanaka to arrive." With his scheme exposed, Director Ochiai didn't resist or argue. He just stood there, hands behind his back, looking up at the enormous painting of The Wrath. "Waiting to pierce this demon, just like in the painting."
"To make this reenactment perfect, I practiced many times—walking routes, camera angles, Masanaka's possible reactions. I considered them all."
"So the rumor about the armor moving around... was you rehearsing the murder." Megure's eyes widened in realization.
Even though Kazawa had mentally prepared himself, seeing the culprit confess everything in such an orderly fashion still baffled him.
Man, you Conan-world murderers really are too honorable.
Still, he had to play along. Kazawa stepped up and asked, "Was it because he was going to shut down the museum and turn it into a restaurant? And you framed Kuwata because he was secretly selling off exhibits and had no respect for art?"
"That's right. I've been the director here since the museum opened. Every piece here is like my own child—I couldn't tolerate their abuse." Ochiai's eyes glowed with a passionate nostalgia as he looked around.
"Too bad you're no righteous knight slaying demons. You're just a brutal murderer. You're under arrest." Inspector Megure frowned and waved his hand. Two officers stepped forward and cuffed Director Ochiai.
"A knight who slays demons becomes soaked in blood himself, mired deep in sin. That's the true meaning of The Wrath." Ochiai didn't resist. He simply met Kazawa's calm gaze. "That's why my plan fell apart under the eyes of you children. This is the punishment I deserve."
Kazawa understood—the old man meant that he and Conan solved the case together. But besides him and Conan, probably no one else noticed that tiny plural in "children."
Thinking of this, Kazawa turned to glance at Conan, who stood frozen in a corner, not knowing what to do with his limbs.
Conan's cold sweat was pouring more than poor, falsely accused Kuwata.
So Kazawa had figured out the culprit too, just like Conan. That moment when he stepped forward while being stabbed—he was probably about to reveal the truth...
If I had known that, I wouldn't have used the tranquilizer dart! Crap! If Kazawa says anything about that moment just now, Ran will definitely...
But Kazawa merely glanced at him and then turned away, walking up to Inspector Megure.
"This case had a complicated method, a dramatic scene, and even ties to recent ghost rumors. It's bound to make big news. Could I ask you to leave my name out of the reports?"
"Why?" Megure looked surprised. "You're Kazawa, right? Kazawa, my boy, your deductions were brilliant. Once this case hits the press, people will praise your talent. You're made for detective work. You helped us a lot—of course we should tell the reporters!"
Kudo vanished on them, and now they'd finally gotten a new external brain—but this new kid seemed like he wanted to escape. He had to be talked into staying.
Kazawa looked troubled, leaned in, and whispered a few things into Inspector Megure's ear.
Megure's expression shifted dramatically—confusion, shock, scanning Kazawa up and down—until finally he gave a sympathetic pat on Kazawa's shoulder. "I see. Alright, I respect your wishes. I'll instruct everyone not to release your name."
Even though he was on the verge of having his identity exposed, Conan couldn't stop wondering what Kazawa had whispered to Megure. He really wanted to know.
But seeing Kazawa narrowing his eyes and walking step by step toward him, Conan's curiosity vanished. He reflexively backed away until he was pinned against the wall like a frog on a dissecting table, arms and legs going weak.
Right now, he felt just like the victim who had just been carried away—about to be nailed to the wall with a sword.