04x05 - A Perfect m*rder and m*rder*r (Part 2)

[bunniefuu]

A bright red envelope is the key to the whole thing.

So the question that it all comes back to is,

where did the perpetrator get both the envelope

and the manuscript from? The answer is so simple.

He k*lled and stole it from the author himself.

Hey! Rampo's rival. What are you doing now?

I am speed reading the manuscript. Of course,

there might be something in here that

could help Rampo solve the crime.

Detective Manora, what exactly is the case

of the mystery writer m*rder that everyone seems to be talking about?

What? You really don't know? The body

was discovered by the manager of an inn.

Uh huh. Is this some kind of doll?

The doll was carrying two dismembered human ears.

The author wrote exceptional detective novels. He was

found m*rder*d at the inn where he had been staying

long term to finish his latest book.

The biggest mystery of this case is that the conditions

around the m*rder resembled the m*rder depicted

in the novel he happened to be working on.

And now you have the entire gist

of the current infamous case, the k*lling of Kindaichi.

Blast! I've discovered nothing new. I had

thought I might find out who had stolen

the manuscript if I read the last chapter.

But the m*rder*r was an old acquaintance of the victim's,

motivated by years of pent up anger.

It's exactly as Rampo had deduced.

The word end on the last page is smudged.

Are these water droplets? No looking at it more carefully.

It's not a handwritten manuscript. It's just a copy of the original.

Why, though?

Well.

What the hell is that sound?

Everybody relax. It's just my cell phone.

Then why were you freaking out about it?

Because I don't receive phone calls very often. Huh? What's this?

The evidence destroyer and the m*rder*r are the same person.

Don't you think that sounds like a bit

of a stretch? My detective friend.

It wouldn't be hard for someone other

than the m*rder*r to obtain the manuscript themselves.

Yes, but I have evidence. This is the original manuscript. Yeah.

What's it doing with the original manuscript?

From the look on your face, it seems you recognize it.

It was folded like this and hidden away,

but I still managed to find it.

It was in the observation deck. Second floor gift shop.

You see, I checked inside the bright

red envelope as soon as I got my hands on it.

And for some reason, only the last page was a photocopy.

Why? To keep the original themselves? No, sir.

Because then they would have just copied all the pages.

And at that point I realized maybe they had to print it out

in a hurry right before it was supposed to be handed off.

So I checked out a stationery shop nearby,

and just as I expected, it was the same exact paper.

So the attacker had rushed to swap

out the original with the copy.

But why do that if the content

was an issue, just throw away that page.

But they didn't do that because there

was a specific reason to hand over all the original pages.

And then if that's the case, the last

page of the manuscript wouldn't have been thrown out.

But they couldn't risk being searched, so they hid it somewhere.

And so you found the hidden last page from the original manuscript.

As soon as I found it, I became

certain that the same person was behind both incidents.

By the way, I never got your name.

It's Michitaro Oguri. Thank you very much.

I now have all the information I need to solve this case.

Considering you're the k*ller and the one who stole the manuscript.

Isn't. THAtrillionIGHT. Michitaro. Ogura.

Well, what do we have here? There are three..

Types of passengers that I can't stand.

Passengers that talk too much. Passengers that tend to cause me trouble.

And passengers that don't pay me what

they owe me. Anything to say for yourself.

I'm all talked out. I bet he has a lot to say, though.

Would you please put that g*n away? Driver, don't..

Give the detective any excuses. There's no direct

evidence that leads to our arrest.

He has no grounds to even charge us with suspicion.

That is, unless you thr*aten him with

a loaded g*n in plain sight.

He doesn't need excuses when I've got a g*n to his head.

Get out of the car now! I don't

want to get my upholstery dirty.

g*ns are fascinating, aren't they? For some reason,

the moment you have one, you turn into an idiot.

Sorry to tell you, but I set you up for this exact scenario.

Drop the g*n, Rambo. While we chatted,

I kept a call going with Poe's cell phone.

An anticlimactic end to the criminals of the century.

I'll put you both in the same

cell so you can compare notes. I'd like to..

See you try. I'm an official diplomat

in a car with foreign service plates.

We have diplomatic immunity from any and all

criminal laws in this country. So you can't arrest us.

If you have any questions, you can

take it up with the embassy.

You're still a m*rder charge should strip

you of your privileges as a diplomat.

Which don't cover carrying a loaded w*apon anyway.

It's not loaded. Check for yourself. Plus,

I can invoke an impossibility defense.

And as far as my unloaded p*stol goes,

your country granted me the right to carry it.

So the g*n was an empty thr*at.

Theodore taught you that trick, didn't he?

You're free to go. No, wait.

So long. Rambo. Please give my regards

to your co-worker in prison for me.

Oh.

Oh, there's foreign texts showing on this

phone. This phone is..

Michitaro. You win. There's something that I've known all along.

Ordinary people aren't capable of defeating gifted.

Nevertheless, I'm going to defeat you

for one reason. My co-workers think I'm invincible.

A special ability.

I was certain that he wasn't a gifted.

So dark. What just happened? I can't see a thing.

I can't breathe. Someone's hands are choking me.

No, it's. How could you just k*ll

me the way you did? You'll k*ll me. So

what the hell is going on?

This is the end.. Where Yokomizo was m*rder*d.

But how is this possible? Know why

I despise you. I despise you so much.

You're not him. This isn't it. Yokomizo. That's correct.

This isn't reality. Reality looks like this.

I see now. This is all the doing

of one of the guild's gifted. We're inside Poe's novel.

That's correct again. I sent out a message to Po

instructing him to reproduce the scene of the m*rder.

That accounts for the phone. I was wondering what that text was.

You said earlier. This isn't it. Yokomizo.

You seem to be well acquainted with the victim.

Do you really think you've caught me with such a measly trap?

As I said before, what you need is evidence.

All your suspicions and deductions mean nothing without something definite.

On top of that, you've let your

guard down and made quite a critical mistake. A mistake.

It was very sloppy. I read Paws Gifted Profile.

His special ability allows him to trap

someone in his own mystery story until the mystery is solved.

But this mystery is the scene of the k*lling of Kindaichi.

If I declare the facts I already know.

I can immediately return to my car in the real world.

In other words, you can't capture me

in this imagined space using Poseability.

I imagine you're right. But you still won't leave.

Because once you finish hearing what I have to say to you.

She'll turn yourself in.

The k*lling of Kindaichi doesn't work.

If the author reveals the gimmick to anyone other than the m*rder*r.

That means the m*rder*r had to have been unique.

Which is why at one point I deduced

that the motive was a personal grudge.

But this is so much worse than that.

To leave your escape as an afterthought to the m*rder.

It's practically self destruction. There are only

two motivations for driving a person to self destruction. Insanity and duty.

Take your pick. Yokomizo. Stabbing. Poisoning. Strangling or b*ating?

How would you like to die? Hmm.

Well, I'd have to say stabbing. Poisoning would

require the reader to have a knowledge of chemistry.

And it wouldn't be fair to assume so much..

Sometimes I think you're a filthy little hack.

No one's talking about the m*rder in your

new novel. I'm talking about k*lling you.

Oh, come on now, stop. But seriously,

give me some new m*rder ideas.

I'm not going to make my deadline this month.

Here we go again, huh? Mystery novels

are just insider games that are bound

by external rules imposed by the author.

Dying messages, various gimmicks, enclosed spaces. They're completely detached from reality.

You want puzzles, go solve a math equation or something.

Your distaste for mystery novels hasn't changed

since back when we were in school together.

It's all your fault that I hate them in the first place.

I do understand what you're getting at, though.

Meta mysteries. Anti mysteries. No matter how

unique a mystery you put out into the literary world,

the next moment it's just shoved into

one category or another by the bookstores.

I believe that the ultimate mystery novel will never come to exist.

Nah. Anyway, it's been a long time

since I've gotten to talk shop with you,

and I guess I couldn't help but spill the beans.

You always change the subject before a debate is over.

No wonder you've never had any real friends.

Not even way back at school.

You're one to talk when you don't

even have any real friends either.

That's right. I k*lled him, I choked

him to death with these two hands.

Bloodlust and madness in my mind. So what now?

The suspect confessed to his crime. There's

nothing you can do about it.

Except you never k*lled him. In the novel's final chapter,

the motive was described to be a personal grudge.

Now, that doesn't make sense to you, does it?

If you were the one who k*lled him,

not only would you have copied the plot

gimmick, but the motive as well.

It's just too perfect an ending. Almost

like a movie script with no loose ends.

The k*lling of Kindaichi was a comedy

that he both wrote and starred in.

The fact of the matter is, he k*lled himself.

What a stupid ending it turned out

to be, but it was highly effective.

Even people who don't read mystery novels

became obsessed with the case and worked to solve it.

A one of a kind mystery novel

uncategorizable to any other book in the genre. That's what he accomplished.

A mystery that leaks into the real world.

I hate having to live with regret.

That's why I've always insisted on doing everything my own way.

So far, I'm satisfied with all the

decisions I've made in my life. But now I find that the sands

of time are beginning to run out for me.

May I ask, are your stomach problems interfering with your work?

There's a malignant tumor in my gut.

I have a year at best. Before that happens,

I'm determined to complete the ultimate mystery novel.

I've already finished with my preparations. All

except the key piece to the puzzle.

And what key piece is that? I need a m*rder*r. It would all

be for nothing if it gets out

that I'd done this myself prematurely.

To avoid that, I need a real

life m*rder*r who has actual motives and intent behind them.

I would like for you to be my m*rder*r.

You caught me red handed. You nailed it this time,

detective. I am indeed..

The role of the.. Unhinged m*rder*r in the novel.

Of course, I agreed I'd get to k*ll the man I truly despise.

On top of that, I get the money for selling the..

Manuscript on.. The underground.

Why would I ever refuse such a request?

I'm guilty of k*lling a dying man.

There's still one question. Why did you

hide the last page of the manuscript?

Not only that, but some of the words are smudged here,

including the word end, which means it

was smudged after the manuscript was completed.

So who made the smudges? And when did it occur?

The stain happened during the crime or right after.

The smudges mark the page in reverse order of their completion.

What I'm telling you is the final

page was placed on top of the

manuscript and not at the bottom.

When you think of it that way,

everything makes a lot more sense.

Stop it now. There is a source

of water at the scene of the crime used to smudge,

and the reason the attacker frantically tried

to replace the original with a copy.

When you put it all together, there can only be one explanation.

If. Thank you. Well, she turreau fatiguing this un.

You are truly my only friend.

Good. My.

Tears.

The perpetrator was crying as he strangled the victim.

So if it wasn't motivated by a personal grudge,

all the assumptions about the gimmick are reversed.

If the victim was an accomplice to the crime,

the act of solving the crime is pointless.

It isn't even a mystery, let alone the ultimate mystery novel.

He realized as much just before you delivered the manuscript.

That's why you replaced it with a photocopy.

So you could fulfill your friend's final wish.

You still have no proof. You're right.

Forensics could have determined that they were tears,

but they couldn't determine whose tears they were.

Still, it would be enough just to publicize

the true story behind this manuscript.

It might have been a su1c1de. It might have been a farce.

It might be pointless to try to solve it.

As soon as the readers would start to think that way,

the value of taking on the challenge

would plummet and your friend's final wish would be muddied forever.

A detective agency was once defeated by Fyodor.

Broke loose again. I will never allow

you to hurt anyone in the agency.

What is this? To that end, I memorized and assimilated.

The very demon himself. If you don't turn yourself in,

I'll go public with my hypothesis.

This isn't detective work. I'm using a demonic mind control method.

Let me introduce you to my new w*apon for k*lling detective K*llers.

No. I can't allow that. Please don't make it public.

I despise Yokomizo. After what I did, I must despise him.

I'll turn myself in.

Yeah, I see. All right. We have

evidence that the type of grenades used

by the detective agency were stolen and transport.

That makes it very likely that they were used

in the m*rder case of that little girl.

I guess he finally released his special ability.

Kunikida should be released from jail immediately.

Rampo. About the dummy corpse thrown from the building.

There wasn't any biological activity detected in his facial wound.

Oh. I bet Fyodor gave Michitaro that

corpse to use as a decoy.

I highly doubt he's ever actually k*lled

anyone other than the mystery rider. Rampo.

I don't want to bother throwing it out. You can have it.

What is it? You're giving me an employee ID?

The company's a front for a secret anti-government organization.

An undercover agent from the Gifted Operations

Division is working there and is about

to have their cover blown wide open.

I want you to go help them.

But why are you asking me to do this?

That undercover agent is also in charge of hiring at the division.

Uh, to tell you the truth, I couldn't

care less what happens to the undercover agent.

But if they learn about your powerful ability,

they'll be obliged to hire you on the spot.

Go show them what you can do.

But tell me first. Rompo. What are you?

I promise, didn't I said I'd hook

you up with work if you ever needed it?

Mushy. I bet you'd laugh at me for this.

We're trying to master mystery novels, even if it means sacrificing myself.

When you go down that path, you realize

there really is nothing that lasts forever.

Huh? Where did my lighter go? In which case

it's up to you to choose.

Choose what you consider valuable in your life.

After all, the greatest luxury afforded to a human being

is the right to make the world itself their choice.

An accident.

Is it an accident? No,

actually, it's a m*rder. Who's the victim? You are.

Come. It just suddenly appeared right out of thin air.

Now, then. It's time for a quiz.

Question one. Who might I be? What's that?

I think I heard you say my name is Nikolai. That's.

Right. Okay. Question two. What on earth am I doing here?

Here's a hint. It's clean up duty.

Oops. Oh. Gave away the answer.

What do you mean, clean up duty? Well, my duty is to get rid

of those individuals who possess way too

much information about our next secret project.

The quiz is no fun if someone

gives away all the answers, right?

Our project. I get it now. You're with Theodore.

Indeed we are. The decay of the angels terrace,

Charles. To go lurking..

Throughout this land. Five angels here to tell

of the end of God's world.

Listen up. The detective agency is about

to get a huge job offer. Don't accept it.

If you do, it'll be..

The end of the agency. Don't you dare accept.