We're saved, I honestly thought. It struck me when we climbed aboveground from the basement atelier and found we could use the elevator—This was a thirty-two-floor tower apartment complex, after all
If we were to visit every residence, that along would be a great amount of labor, and if you added climbing the stairs to that, it would be nothing to scoff at—confident as I was in my stamina from my occupation, even I'd find it harsh. Kyouko-wan was tougher than she looked, but her build was slender, there wasn't much to say about that—at the time, with an innocent look, "Well then, let's get going," she set out on the stairs.
When Kyouko-san made the move, I couldn't whine myself; I made my own resolve and followed behind her, but once we'd gotten a floor up from the basement,
"Pardon me,"
Kyouko-san opened the door to the elevator hall. She never waited for my opinion before taking action, and she wouldn't explain anything either, not only was she speedy, she took arbitrary action skipping over the process, so when her route suddenly bent, I asked after the fact to find out she, 'heard a sound,' apparently. My mind was already on the second floor and beyond that, and I was devoted to climbing stairs so I didn't hear it, but Kyouko-san's antenna was perpetually directed in every direction.
Beyond the door were two men in workers' clothing—with stepladders and such, they held large parcels, their preparations to leave already over, as they were already set to depart from the complex.
"I'm a resident of this complex but, pardon me, is the elevator working now?"
Kyouko-san struck up conversation with them. She was brazenly lying from her very first word, and listening to her from the side, for an instant, oh, so Kyouko-san lives here, I was in danger of accepting it.
What's more, my mind taken by the lie, it was hard to pick it up, but the way she asked was clever—instead of asking the workers, 'what are you doing,' she asked 'is the elevator working,' a question quite a few steps down the road.
It was a casual fine play, or rather, from the moment she lied she was a resident, it would be unnatural for her not to know about any work being done inside, and would give rise to a contradiction—the greatest necessity of a liar wasn't the ability to skillfully lie, it was the ability to never forget a lie told.
The forgetful detective Kyouko-san, while only restricted to the span of a day, held an exceedingly high capacity in that ability, it seems.
"Yes. The inspection's over. Sorry for any inconvenience."
One of them said.
"I see, no thank you."
"Oh no, this is our job."
"By the way, from when were you working on it again? I think you started earlier than scheduled."
"? No? Just as scheduled, we've been here since nine in the morning."
"Is that so—it must have been my mistake. I apologize for holding you up here."
Kyouko-san lowered her brown-dyed head.
"Oh not at all, well then if you'll excuse us," with some sociable greetings, they left—apparently, the elevator was unusable due to a scheduled inspection completely unrelated to the incident. The apartment I lived in was two floors, and it didn't have anything as extravagant as an elevator installed, but I see, it was a mechanism that couldn't risk the one-in-million chance of an accident, so it would need that sort of maintenance every few months.]If the only elevator was unusable thanks to regular maintenance, during that time, the residents on the upper floors really had their work cut out for them but, well, it was only a few hours.
Whatever the case, with the elevator in working order, it looked like we could avoid the climbing that came with visiting every residence, and I was relieved.
"That's a relief, Kyouko-san."
I said,
"Hmmm,"
Though Kyouko-san was curiously tilting her head—her eyes chased the two leaving men as she tapered her lips. In a way, she looked disappointed that the stair climbing she had decided to challenge herself with had been called off, but I didn't want to believe that could be the case.
Still, then what could she be thinking about? As I was unable to keep up with her thought speed, "What's wrong, Kyouko-san?" I honestly asked.
"Eh? Oh, no, my apologies. I was just considering the possibility that those people were the culprits."
"I-I see, is that so."
She answered in a maybe sort of tone, so there wasn't much weight on the words themselves, but after she questioned them like that, and carried such a friendly, good-natured conversation, casting doubt on them was surely not a light act.
If you called her faithful to her station as a detective, perhaps—but with how calmly she lied, this person was definitely not as ditzy as her appearance and conduct might suggest. Not restricting her suspicious to the complex's residents, her shrewdness in properly looking at outsiders with doubt might be something to praise…
But as one acting alongside her, it did make me anxious—she smiled and spoke so kindly to me, but in my heart, I ended up wondering if she was actually doubting me as well. In truth, having just met old Wakui, the possibility of us arguing over my employment terms wasn't unimaginable—naturally, I should be under suspicion. Taking it back even further, I was sacked from my previous workplace thanks to Wakui—one might say I have a motive. That hay something within me had cleared as I consulted with Kyouko-san, but if that wasn't the case, even if I didn't embrace murderous intent, there was a chance I might stop by this Atelier House to launch a complaint at old Wakui.
… Perhaps that's what it really meant when they say one shouldn't travel with a detective—not because the incidents break out, but because you're also suspect in them.
"But that doesn't seem likely—if we're just talking about possibilities, of course, it's possible, but if someone disguised as an inspection worker to murder him, then I highly doubt they would forget to hand up an 'inspection in progress' sign."
And Wakui-san wouldn't have any reason to cover for them—Kyouko-san removed her eyes from the automatic auto-lock door, walking over to the elevator that had cleared inspection.
Come to think of it, if it was being inspected, then they could at least put up a sign—it was a plausible careless mistake, but if someone disguised and deliberately carried out this plan, it was reasonable to assume there was no way they would make such an oversight.
It was crude, as far as deductions went, but that was probably Kyouko-san's technique as a detective. Placing speed over accuracy, the verification could be carried out after she reached her conclusion—imprecise, yet rational and efficient. Of course, that was a rational and efficiency built over Kyouko-san's speed as a premise—from my point of view, that was a crude deduction in and of itself.
At the same time, I felt relieved. Even if Kyouko-san suspected me, I could be taken off the suspect list for the same reasons—old Wakui had no reason to stick up for me.
"Oyagiri-san? If you don't get on fast, the door's going to close."
On her urgings, I hurriedly boarded the elevator compartment—Kyouko-san didn't hold the open button for me, so if I was late, perhaps she intended to leave me to my own devices.
"Hup."
She stretched out a bit and pressed the button for the top floor—button '32'.
Oh? Just from what I'd heard, I thought she was going to make her rounds starting from the second floor, but—was there a change of plans?
Top down or bottom up, if she was seeing them all anyway, there really wasn't much of a difference.
"Oh no, I just thought of something… and because of that starting from the top and starting from the bottom are no longer the same."
"? I see…?"
She said that which I couldn't understand. But when she spoke incomprehensibly like that, I was kinda starting to understand those were the times when her mind was working on that, and that alone. IT was the same when she was looking at the binder in the basement—come to think of it, that binder, wat even was it in the end? I was so taken aback by Kyouko-san's transformation I forgot to ask—even if I did, she might not answer.
But a confined elevator was an awkward space to be, and seeking a conversation to fill a few dozen seconds, I turned the talk towards it.
"What sort of documents were in that binder? You seemed to be paying it quite a bit of attention…"
"Oh, that? Yes, well—I wouldn't say it's that important."
Kyouko-san's response was expectedly tepid and vague. Hmm, she hesitated some as, "Oyagiri-san, what do you think about it?" she asked back.
"How… about what?"
"The culprit's motives. In my inspection of the site, rather than searching for physical evidence, that was what I was placing emphasis on."
Motive. My heart skipped a beat; that had been exactly what I was thinking about. Of course, it did seem Kyouko-san had begun considering it far before that—not that I was going to be surprised by her speed at this point.
"We are short on time, you see. I was wondering if there was any way we could identify the culprit from a motive perspective—in that case, what comes to mind is the job Wakui-san was about to embark upon."
"Yeah, I'd say so too."
Or so I agreed, but come to think of it, I'd completely forgotten. Wakui called me to Atelier House to guard the frame making he would set out on as his final project. With an incident happening at this timing, it was only natural to assume it had some relation—in that case, it made me sink further and further down.
My failure to protect old Wakui went without saying, but I couldn't even protect the opportunity to see his final work with these eyes—even if his life was locked in place, when he'd suffered such a large injury, there was no guarantee he'd be able to work as he had before. He would require a considerable hospitalization period, and there might be some lingering effects…
Thinking about that got me down, and at the very least, I felt like carrying out his will—and Kyouko-san must have reached that point ages ago. Even if she pressed forward with hopes of a reward, she was a detective by trade who didn't move on a sense of justice or curiosity, and the fact she was moving on the fly was more than I could hope for.
Or perhaps from the start, Kyouko-san san sympathized indirectly with Wakui's character she had heard from me—while they were different in form, they each waged their all on their own occupation.
That she changed her clothes, dyed her hair, and pretended to be someone else as she investigated, it really did give off the feel she had deviated from the proper path. That wasn't much different from old Wakui who felt his trade had been insulted and caused a ruckus at the museum.
Birds of a feather, perhaps not, but there were some things in those that work, that only fellow workers could understand—thinking over that, and turning it over in my hands, I thought it truly unfortunate I never got to see Kyouko-san and old Wakui's discussion.
In the future, sometime, someplace, I can only hope the chance arises…
"If hypothetically, that final job was the trigger for this incident—in that case, the Atelier House residents' involvement with the case should be obvious."
"Oh… of course."
When she used the word obvious, I was pressed for a response with no room for mistake. But where speed was a higher priority than caution, I started out with an answer. You could say it was similar to giving up on misplaced thought. I spoke what came to mind without much deliberation.
"It was the… contents of his final job, his final frame, after all. Someone living in Atelier House… is supposedly painting that painting at this very moment."
"Yes, precisely."
Kyouko-san nodded.
"Which leads to two possibilities. First, the possibility that the culprit is that very resident painting the painting. Second, the possibility that the culprit is a resident who is not painting that painting."
Mn? No, without brandishing that train of thought, wasn't she just saying what went without saying? Either A, or everything not contained within A, was all it was. I couldn't think that narrowed the possibilities at all.
"Oh no, it's actually a considerably important point. Meaning an argument broke out with the person painting the picture about its completion… and it devolved into that is one possibility— otherwise, a resident dissatisfied that the honorable Wakui didn't choose them for his final work and dropped down to the basement to talk with him directly, and one thing led to another, is the other possibility. These two are completely different, and based on which it is, the approach I should take will change."
"Hmmm… well, when you put it like that."
Sure enough, the former could restrict the suspect to a single person, but the later only decreased the suspect pool by one, which couldn't be called very productive. But impression-wise, I felt the latter was higher—as Wakui maintained secrecy in regards to his final work, he applied a camouflage to make it difficult to figure out who was painting that picture.
Applying camouflage might make it sound like he used some advanced technique of his traded, or carried out some high-level risk management, but all he really did was have a great many residents paint fake pictures.
I couldn't even imagine how an artist tasked at painting a pointless painting that wouldn't be used would feel, but if they were put up to it, I doubt they'd be able to maintain their motivation, and perhaps their anger and resentment at old Wakui would build up.
"Naturally, there's an entirely different possibility as well. Even if we narrow down the suspects to the residents of Atelier House, it is possible that the motive is completely irrelevant to the painting or Wakui-san's job. But even if that is the case, there is meaning to be had in identifying the individual he appointed to create the painting. There should be information only he or she is aware of."
"… And was that what was written in that binder's documents?"
I surmised that must have been the reason she stopped on it, but, "No, it was not detailed," Kyouko-san shook her head.
"Unfortunately, I searched that word space and residential space high and low, but I was unable to identify any of the residents Wakui-san appointed, fakes included."
"I see… that sounds about right."
He had kept so secretive about his final job, I doubt he would leave any written records detailing the individual he selected. Even if he did record it, it was more than possible the culprit collected and made off with it as they fled—they may have promptly gotten rid of any information that identified them. In that case, it was possible the culprit would be the former… meaning the individual old Wakui entrusted the grand task to. Though the fact the one drawing the real picture didn't even know it was real was the bottleneck of that theory…
"Huh? But Kyouko-san, in that case, why were you staring at that binder so intently?"
"This is a phrase I don't really want to use as a detective, but—I didn't really get it."
"You might say I found myself confused upon coming into contact with information completely different from what I was looking for… no, I'll tell you about it later."
Just as Kyouko-san finished up with that, the elevator arrived at the top floor, and the door opened. A hallway far vaster than I had anticipated opened up before my eyes.
"For now, let's start by making rounds—collect as much information as possible. I'll change my title around a bit depending on who we're dealing with so, Oyagiri-san, just do your best to play along."
"My best, eh… yes, understood."
I was a clumsy soul, so it would be troublesome if I was requested a lie on Kyouko-san's level, but if it was just playing along, it might work out—generally speaking, I could just stand behind Kyouko-san as she argued her case, casting a silent pressure on whoever she was talking to. Reluctant as I am to admit it, I'm quite good at letting off an intimidating air with the size of my body.
Brazenly walking to the depths of the hall, Kyouko-san pushed the intercom button without hesitation.
"Oyagiri-san, a step to the right please."
I wondered what she meant at first, but it seemed she was contriving to put my large build outside the range of the fisheye lens. Certainly, while it was a complex with an auto lock, for there to be a direct visit on each individual room would, in itself flare up the suspicious of those inside—laying down pressure before the door had even be opened might have them pretend to be out.
On the contrary, if all they could see through the lens was a single small-built lovable brown-haired woman, there was a higher likelihood they would lower their guard and open the door—in that case, perhaps that was the purpose of the disguise.
Sometime later,
"Who is it?"
Without going through the intercom, a response came directly across the door—the resident had undoubtedly taken in Kyouko-san's form through the fisheye lens.
Whether mindful of their eyes or not, Kyouko-san held up a writing pad she must have swiped at some point from the basement room as a prop in one hand and smiled.
"Pardon my visit, I'm with city hall."
She greeted them.
Naturally, she was no civil worker, nor has she come from any official channel.