04x04 - A Perfect m*rder and m*rder*r (Part 1)

[bunniefuu]

Death a convulsion. m*rder. An idol of the powerless.

I am the angel of m*rder. The King of.

Crime. May you forever rest in peace. Yeah.

Listen, I'm here to help get you out of here.

Are you listening to me? Kunikida?

Don't mind me. Rampo. It's only right

for a suspect to be detained.

Yeah, but you're a suspect in a m*rder case.

It was the girl who set off the grenades

with her own hands. That's your claim, right?

But there are no witnesses and all

evidence was destroyed by the enemy.

They even went to the trouble of using

the same grenades the agency uses.

It's obvious to me you've been framed.

Part of an operation by the rats.

Plus a convenient way to harass us.

But are you going to let them

charge you because of a guilty conscience?

I don't care about your inner conflict.

I'm here to make sure you're found innocent.

The rats must have someone on their

payroll who specializes in destroying evidence.

We'll find him. And no one's going to stop us either.

Not the agency, not even the boss. Rompo. Why do all this?

Because it's my fault. If I'd seen

through that demon Fyodor's trap earlier, the girl wouldn't have d*ed.

Hmm. Challenging anything that torments the grand

intellect of one such as myself is

someone to be feared, for sure.

Still, I shall be the first one

to solve this stupefying mystification of the forest.

Huh?

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Hey there! Po! What a coincidence!

Rompo! What are you doing here, anyway? Oh, waiting for someone? Huh?

He figured me out. If you must know,

I recently won something in an auction,

and I'm here to retrieve it. And what brings you here? Rompo.

And by the way, why are you dressed like that?

Finally, I was wondering if anyone was ever going to notice

after I went against the boss's orders during the cannibalism incident.

He forced me to work as the mascot

of the company. So I ran away.

Anyway, it's really good seeing a friendly face here.

Give me a hand with the collar.

What's this nonsense, Rompo? I'm supposed to be meeting someone here.

Oh, my raccoon is under here fighting me.

I see. So you think this enemy

evidence destroyer will be showing up at this

observation deck any minute now? Yep.

Then wouldn't it be better if you helped me spot them?

It would. But he knows who I am.

And soon you'll know that the Evidence

destroyer is Fyodor's ally and right hand man.

An expert in information manipulation. I really

should be attending to my prior arrangements,

but as always, I have a hard time saying no to Rompo.

The only info we have on the evidence

destroyer is the photo I gave you. Oh. Mm.

Looks like the type of man who wouldn't have many friends.

Yeah. I don't think you're one to talk.

Tell me, though, what made you suspect

he'll show up on the observation deck at this time?

I gifted that we captured. Fessed up. Then again.

He did seem like a skeevy, lying

little grunt. The Intel might be bogus.

I've been here for some time, and

he still hasn't shown up yet.

I'm getting pretty bored waiting around. Tell

me a funny story. What are you.

Terrible, I demand. Oh, how about I tell

you about the mystery I've been working on?

Everyone in town's been obsessed with it.

The common theory is, of course.

Shut up. A mystery. You know what?

I'd rather go home and play with the kids in the neighborhood.

Not this one. This author is, in fact, the actual m*rder victim.

And he was k*lled in the exact

same way he described the m*rder to be in his novel.

The first three chapters of the novel

were originally published in a magazine.

The author d*ed right after he finished

the manuscript for the fourth and final chapter.

And then the m*rder*r stole that final

chapter and fled from the crime scene. Why do you think?

Well, he did it because the truth

and trick behind the m*rder was resolved in that fourth chapter. Right.

The victim was a mystery novelist using the pen name Kindaichi.

He was a well known, talented author.

So his death set the public a.

The entire industry pored over the first three chapters,

but the mystery continues to be unresolved.

I'm working on it myself, but it's

proving to be quite the difficult challenge. Rampo. You're here.

Don't you have anything.. Better to do than this?

Weren't you supposed to wait on another floor?

I'm pissed. He hasn't shown. So I came

up with a way to blow off steam.

I'm going to guess who m*rder*d the author while we wait around.

What? Just like that. We'll know who

did it by tomorrow. Either way.

Tomorrow. But how? The m*rder*r had two motives revenge and money.

The m*rder*r was told about what happens

in the fourth and final chapter,

which means they were pretty close to

the victim. That's what triggered the m*rder.

So why'd he k*ll him right after he finished writing the ending?

Because he'd been waiting for him to.

The more the public became fascinated by the author's m*rder,

the more valuable the manuscript became.

And he was planning on selling it.

He wasn't necessarily going to sell it.

Of course he was. In fact, he already

has. To whom? To you? Yeah.

Your assistant, who was sworn to secrecy, told me so.

By the way, it's dangerous to bring

a wild animal to a crowded area.

But I guess you had to bring him.

So the stranger you're meeting would recognize you.

You said look for a man with a raccoon on his shoulder.

Plus, you mentioned an auction. The best

place to sell the stolen corpse chapter would be an underground auction.

Do you want me to keep going? Oh. Oh.

I was hoping to solve the crime all by myself,

but if the police bought the manuscript,

the truth would come out in the newspapers

before I had a chance to solve it.

Turn over that evidence to the police

and they'll give you a letter of appreciation.

That's what I'll do then. After all,

I only spent a mere million to buy it.

Why the look of excruciating shock? Rompo

master architect is the third highest rank in the guild.

By tomorrow I won't even remember I spent such an amount.

What are you, mental or something? But I got

to see your rare exasperated face,

so it was well worth the money.

Now then, I shall have to finish

the transaction I came here for. I was told it would be given

to me by someone in possession of a bright red envelope.

I see a bright red envelope. Huh? Like that one.

Oh, when did that get there?

Oh.

The.

Oh.

Did you see that man's face just now? The evidence destroyed.

Well, I'll be damned. How do you like that?

Turns out this is a good mystery.

Oh, I hope so. Dead on impact.

Do you think it's possible this was a su1c1de?

Or was he silenced by the rats?

Get back. Municipal police. Huh? It's you two. Hi.

Hey, Ronpo. Menara ou. Stop tickling me! Get off of me!

I'll arrest you. Say, uncle and I win. Please!

Please help me! Nora! Before he passes out.

Mm. Why did Ronpo suddenly become so excited

when you arrived? I don't know.

Because the police arrived so quickly after the fall.

In fact, the police arrived just as we rushed

to the street from the observation deck above.

But why? Because the perpetrator called them

himself ahead of time to have the

municipal police close off the area.

So I wouldn't have time to check out the body myself.

So it wasn't a..

su1c1de, but something the rats did to silence this man from talking?

Actually it's neither. Look at this. So what

of it? It's the victim's shoe.

It came off as he was falling to the ground.

He had it on when we saw him through the window.

You observed that in the split second as he fell.

Judging by how worn out the sole is,

he should have been wearing this particular

pair of shoes for quite a long time.

It should not have come off so easily in mid-air.

I see. Now then, explain it to me, would you?

So you see, the shoes the victim

was wearing don't actually belong to him.

He was just forced to put them on right before he was pushed.

Rampo knew this because he already knows

what the man's footprint looks like.

I had been to their hideout in the abandoned

mines to look for leads on the evidence destroyer.

Needless to say, I took note of

all the footprints on the ground.

So what about this shoe? I saw it too, of course.

So that face was simply a forgery

.. Connected to a fishing line.

That's right. They smashed the victim's face in,

and then they placed the kind of prosthetic

mask they use in the movies on top of it.

Then they attach the fishing line directly

to the mask and adjusted its length

so it would be seen on his way down.

Once the victim hit the ground, there'd

be no way of knowing that his

face had been smashed in ahead of time.

So then the evidence destroyer shoved the

victim down to cover his tracks. And so I just need to use

these to determine his whereabouts. And it's over.

What is he, some.. Kind of freak?

I went to that underground auction to fund

my escape and throw the detective agency off my trail.

With one shoe. He blew my whole scheme.

Just forging that mask was a ton of work. This situation.

Is exactly as I planned.

Behold. Even

the demon of the North would tremble at my special ability.

No defeat. Detective. Your insights are inadequate.

Special ability. The perfect crime.

Oh.

Oh, and now it's finally time for the ultra

detection ability to instantly reveal the real truth.

You that younger detectives fanboy or something? No, I'm his rival.

I just don't know. Huh? Why did you just say. Oh?

I can't figure it out at all.

Silly detectives. Nothing but wretched hyenas. You'll

never catch me in a million years.

For my special abilities, the ability to erase

the evidence of any crime, especially the ones I commit.

The gates of heaven are closed and

are never to be opened again.

For I am the ultimate detective k*ller.

His co-workers innocence will never be proven,

and he'll never be able to explain the reason why.

Theodore let me capture him.

Pleasant greetings to you, Michitaro.

And who are you supposed to be?

The man who's going to free you from imprisonment.

A crime organization locked you up so they can

continue to make money off your fantastic

ability to erase all evidence of a crime.

Until today. That is, the cost for your freedom is rather modest.

We'd only like you to cooperate with our operation.

Just this one time.. Between a tyrant and a demon. I would

rather make a pact with the demon.

I guess that's simply the way I'm wired.

So, yes, I'll accept your offer.

However, I have a few conditions. Number one,

no matter what, I will never appear in public.

I will only use my special ability.

Second, prepare a desk for my work.

Even better if you can supply books on mysticism and ancient alchemy.

Thirdly, serve my meals on porcelain or silver,

and my clothes are always to be laundered using

starch. That's all. Fine. Anything else?

Yes. And this is the most important condition.

Once the operation is completed, I'll need to flee overseas.

This is to ensure I evade the organization.

My escape must happen one week later.

Why wait a whole week? I could

arrange to have you leave a day after..

There's unfinished business. I have left a promise of death and crime.

There's a man I need to see.

And in one week's time, after we're done, I'll k*ll him.

Poor Rambo. He hasn't said a single

word since he started staring at the victim's body. Yeah.

He'd normally be laughing out loud and pointing out the m*rder*r.

His great ability as a detective is the very

backbone of his body and soul.

To have that backbone broken. I'm afraid he may never walk again.

Oh, don't be so hard on yourself. Time to give..

Up, huh? Okay, I'm going back to the office.

Now. You can deal with this mess. Oh, but. Ron Paul, wait.

My victory is set in stone.

The photo of me the agency has is from

before I changed my face in the organization.

Which means there's no way they'll ever recognize me.

k*lling is as easy for me as someone else bending a finger.

Even the other day, when I k*lled that feeble minded mystery writer.

Mushy. You know what my goal is?

To write the ultimate mystery novel one day.

Good.

Is.

Kneel before me. Detectives. For I'm the true king of crime.

There's no one on earth who can

force me to repent or admit to any

of my masterful crimes. Hey, there. Got a minute?

The detective. Why is he here? Is he on to me? Impossible.

Do you know where I can catch a taxi around here? What?

A taxi? Yeah. I was going to take

a taxi cab back to the office,

but the police blocked off the main street for an accident.

And I've had no luck at all

finding a taxi anywhere on these back streets.

And you're the only person I've seen who I can ask.

Does he recognize me? Does he know who I really am?

He's not lying when he says the main road's closed.

This is the only place to find a taxi.

Oh, comical. The detective, on his way

back to the office after giving up on a case,

strikes up a conversation with the perpetrator.

Sorry, but I can't think of any taxi stands around here.

Fine. I'll just wait right here then.

He's waiting here. But I'm supposed to be meeting my ride here.

He's going to end up seeing the vehicle

I drive away in for a crime to be perfect.

Not a single loose thread may be left untied.

There's a train station about a five

minute walk from here. Let me draw a map.

No, thanks. I'm not in the mood to walk today.

Okay, how about this? There's a bus

station right around the corner that will take

you over to the train station. Make a right at the corner.

No buses, no trains. Too much work.

Also, I've never been on one, so I don't

know how to ride the train.

What are you in grade school? I know,

since I don't want to walk.

How about you give me a piggyback ride back to my office?

That's no request to make of another human being.

Well, I've made the newbie at the office do it a few times.

I'm afraid that I've gotten involved in a conversation

with someone that I really shouldn't have.

Oh. Oh. Hello, Mr. Michitaro. I'll be your driver today.

Of all the times to be early. Sorry, but I have to be off

now to a business engagement. Good luck finding a cab.

Uh, Mr.... Rampo.

Well, Mr. Rampo. Have a nice rest of your day.

He's seen my car. Just what I didn't want.

Well, whatever. It shouldn't be a problem

.. To the detective agency.

Dead. What are you doing in here?

This is a company car provided for me.

It's hot in here. Turn on the AC.

Are you listening? I have a good idea.

I'll pay you what a cab ride

costs if you let me share the car with you.

Plus, I could hook you up with some work

if you ever need a job. No.

Great, thanks. Appreciate it. What do you expect me to do?

It's not like I want him here either.

Alas, I can't let this lucky detective

get any closer to the truth just

because he happened to stumble across me.

Driver, please take him to the train station.

I'm sure that you can find a taxi

you can take from there. Yay!

Say, what is it you do there

at the detective agency? Oh, well, I'm a detective.

I see. You must experience some gruesome

situations in your. Line of work.

Such a foreign world to me, as far as I'm concerned.

I just have one lead on a current m*rder*r.

He swapped shoes with his recent victim,

so whoever he is, his shoes are too small for him right now.

I only just realized why this case

has been so difficult for me to solve.

The m*rder*r is gifted with a rare

ability to alter reality of sorts.

He's already figured out that much. My skills

as detective are all about technique because it isn't a power.

I couldn't stand a chance against a reality altering special ability.

Exactly. But I managed to figure it out anyway. No. Impossible.

Are you interested in how..

That would make for great entertainment while we ride?

To think that I'd get to hear

how a detective I just met solved a crime involving a gifted.

All right, I'll explain it to you as.

Thanks for the ride. A bright red

envelope is the key to the whole thing.

I was chasing an evidence destroyer who wanted

me to believe that he was dead.

He had already taken notice of my friend Edgar Allan Poe.

Poe arranged to buy the manuscript of a dead author.

The instant we grabbed the red envelope,

the evidence destroyer pushed a double off the roof of the building.

All for the purpose of showcasing that one moment to us.

So the question that it all comes

back to is this where did the perpetrator

get the envelope and the manuscript?