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Chapter 203: The Evidence in the Lighter
Everyone's eyes began to drift toward one another, the tension in the air almost solidifying.
After a brief moment of shock, Mori Kogoro immediately seized the conversation, acting as if he had come up with the deduction himself. He cleared his throat triumphantly and once again aimed his spear at the young waiter who had kept his head lowered.
"Inspector, no need to search!" He pointed a finger, nearly poking the waiter's nose. "The killer is you! You used your identity as a waiter to find fishing line in the restaurant's storage room, and then used this method to create the locked room!"
The young waiter was so frightened he stumbled back, his face as pale as paper. "No... It wasn't me! I don't know anything about fishing line!"
Conan hid behind Mori Kogoro, observing calmly. The corner of his mouth twitched. That's truly Uncle's style of deduction. He had to admit, although the process was absurd, Mori had stumbled blindly onto the truth this time.
From the moment he noticed the fleeting eye contact between the young waiter and the victim's wife, Asami Otsuka, Conan had locked onto the pair.
"Inspector, I think we should search first," Takagi whispered to Megure. "Relying on guesses alone..."
Inspector Megure nodded. He naturally wouldn't close a case based on a single sentence from Mori Kogoro. "Everyone, remain where you are. We will question and search you one by one!" Megure's voice echoed through the restaurant, making the already tense atmosphere even more oppressive.
At that moment, Conan sharply caught a detail.
After the police gave the order, the young waiter's gaze drifted uncontrollably toward Asami Otsuka. That look contained a mix of worry, reassurance, and a trace of imperceptible resolve. And Asami Otsuka, who had been burying her face in her hands crying, returned a very fast, very hidden glance through the gaps in her fingers.
That was not a look strangers gave each other.
Conan's heart sank. They know each other! Why pretend to be strangers?
The search proceeded methodically. Takagi and another officer were responsible for checking all males in the restaurant, from pockets to personal belongings, missing nothing.
When it was the young waiter's turn, his body stiffened noticeably.
"Please cooperate," Takagi said officially.
The waiter took a deep breath and raised his hands, submitting to Takagi's search. Takagi checked him meticulously, from pockets to pant legs. The waiter was rigid, cold sweat beading on his forehead, but he forced himself to stay calm, letting the officer manipulate him.
Moments later, Takagi stood up and shook his head at Inspector Megure. "Inspector, he has nothing on him."
Mori Kogoro's expression froze instantly, his accusing finger hanging awkwardly in mid-air. "H... How can that be?"
Kisaki Eri lifted her coffee, blew on it gently, her eyes filled with undisguised mockery. "Baseless accusations. It seems 'Sleeping Kogoro' only has a clear mind when he's asleep."
"You woman!" Mori Kogoro's face turned the color of pig liver.
Inspector Megure massaged his temples, having developed immunity to the couple's daily quarrels. He waved his hand and ordered his subordinates, "In that case, check everyone in the restaurant! The killer is definitely still among us!"
As the order was given, the atmosphere in the restaurant solidified further. Although the diners were dissatisfied, they could only cooperate in front of the police.
Conan watched everything calmly from under the table. His gaze shifted back and forth between the young waiter and the weeping widow, Asami Otsuka. Without evidence, Mori's accusation was just nonsense. But Conan trusted his judgment—there was absolutely a hidden relationship between these two. That fleeting eye contact was the best proof.
Damn it, where is the evidence? Fishing line is so thin and easy to dispose of... If the killer already threw it away...
No, that's not right.
Conan's gaze suddenly locked onto the young waiter's hand. Since the beginning, the waiter's left hand had been subconsciously clenching something. Even during the search, he had only loosened his grip for a moment before gripping it tightly again.
It was a metal lighter.
A flash of inspiration struck Conan. The most dangerous place is the safest place.
The search continued, and soon it would be the next group's turn. Conan knew he couldn't wait any longer. He quietly slipped out from under the table, and while everyone's attention was on the police, he pretended to run carelessly toward the waiter.
"Big Brother!"
He shouted in his most innocent voice, deliberately tripping over his own feet, his small body crashing straight into the waiter's leg.
"Ah!"
Caught off guard, the waiter stumbled. The lighter he had been clutching flew out of his hand, slid across the smooth floor, and made a crisp ding sound.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Conan apologized while sprinting over, snatching up the lighter before anyone else could. "Wow, what a beautiful lighter!"
He held up the silver Zippo lighter, acting like a curious baby, successfully attracting the attention of those around him. "Big Brother, can I borrow this to look at?"
The waiter's face instantly went deathly pale. He rushed forward, trying to snatch the lighter back. "Kids shouldn't play with that, it's dangerous!"
"It's okay, I just want one look!" Conan dodged nimbly, his small hands fumbling quickly over the lighter.
Right here!
He felt a tiny catch at the bottom of the lighter. A normal person would never notice it, but for Conan, who dealt with gadgets daily, this anomaly was glaring.
He pressed it hard.
Click.
With a soft sound, the lighter's casing split open from the middle, revealing a hollowed-out interior. There was no cotton wick or flint inside, only a roll of neatly wound, nearly transparent thread.
Fishing line!
Found it!
Conan felt a surge of triumph. However, before he could open his mouth to "remind" Inspector Megure, a large hand reached out from behind him, snatched the lighter away, and delivered a harsh knuckle sandwich to his head.
Bonk!
"Ouch!" Conan clutched his head, tears welling up.
Mori Kogoro, with a dark face, shoved the lighter back into the hands of the now bloodless waiter. "You brat! Don't cause trouble here and hinder the police investigation!"
Damn it! This confused detective!
Conan rubbed his throbbing head, watching the waiter frantically close the lighter, anxious as an ant on a hot pan. He couldn't count on Uncle Mori anymore.
He quietly raised his left wrist, aiming at the back of Mori Kogoro's neck. The cover of his stun-gun wristwatch popped open with a snap.
Let's have you, the Great Detective, go to 'sleep' one more time.
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