A Genius In The World Of Conan

Chapter 13: “Fool”

What had he done?

He had inadvertently revealed to the prime suspect that the police didn’t have concrete evidence?!

Nakajima Takuto stood frozen in place, his mind going blank.

The entire strategy of getting Kousuke Akikawa to confess rested on making him believe that the police already had solid evidence, while still offering him a chance for redemption through a lighter sentence if he turned himself in.

But now that Kousuke knew the police had no evidence, all the bluffing and psychological tactics up until this point were rendered meaningless.

Nakajima’s grip on Kousuke’s collar gradually loosened. Once free, Kousuke coughed violently again.

But Nakajima couldn’t spare any attention to Kousuke now.

The realization of his monumental mistake left him drenched in a cold sweat, soaking his back completely.

‘If my superiors find out about this, I’ll definitely face severe punishment,’ he thought to himself.

‘No, wait, there’s still a chance to fix this.’

Nakajima stiffly turned to look at Kousuke, who was clutching his neck and coughing uncontrollably.

‘With this guy’s mental age and lack of experience, it’s possible he doesn’t even realize the significance of what I just said.’

‘A kid who’s been locked up at home since grade school—how could he possibly understand police procedures?’

'And as long as I can get him to confess, that mistake earlier won’t even matter.’

‘If the suspect confesses, who’s going to know I accidentally revealed the state of the investigation to him?’

Nakajima regained his composure and said in a stern voice to Kousuke:

“I’m giving you one more chance. Think carefully before you answer. Remember, I’m doing this for your sake!”

“You’re an adult now. The Juvenile Law hasn’t applied to you for two years.”

“If you confess now, it can still count as voluntary surrender, and the punishment will be lighter.”

“But if you’re caught later, the outcome won’t be the same.”

Nakajima no longer had the energy to keep up the pretense of warmth and kindness.

He laid it out plainly—surely Kousuke could understand this now, right?

Kousuke hesitated for a moment before cautiously saying:

“Now that I think about it, the person on the motorcycle might have been wearing gloves when they killed my mother.”

Nakajima: “???”

“What, you’re adding to the story now? You hear me say no fingerprints were found, so you conveniently give your imaginary perpetrator a new detail—gloves?!”

Nakajima nearly exploded with anger, shouting once again:

“Stop talking about this motorcycle person! The police have evidence—it was clearly you who bore a grudge against your mother, Aikawa Ryoko, and killed her!”

“No, no! I’m telling the truth!” Kousuke shook his head desperately. “Even if I wanted to kill Mom, I couldn’t have done it…”

“What do you mean, ‘even if’? And what do you mean, ‘couldn’t’?”

“As long as you had a knife, even someone like you could—using this hand—stab your own mother—”

Nakajima ranted angrily as he grabbed Kousuke’s right hand, which had been hidden inside the sleeve of his hospital gown.

But when he saw Kousuke’s right hand, swollen, bruised, and bent at an unnatural angle, Nakajima’s words caught in his throat.

“Ahhh—!”

Kousuke screamed in pain.

Seeing his face contort from the agony, Nakajima quickly let go.

“Your— your hand— what happened?”

For the first time, Nakajima’s voice faltered, becoming stammered and unsure.

It was only now that he realized Kousuke’s right hand was fractured, severely swollen, and covered in subcutaneous bruising.

The bruising wasn’t red but a dark bluish-purple, indicating the injury had occurred quite some time ago.

A sense of foreboding crept over Nakajima.

“I already… mentioned it earlier… I hurt it yesterday when Mom slammed on the brakes…”

“Then why didn’t you say anything when you woke up this morning?!”

“I— I was scared…”

Nakajima looked at Kousuke, who avoided eye contact and appeared utterly terrified.

He felt his blood rush to his head, almost to the point of fainting from frustration.

‘What the hell is going on here?!’

‘This is just like some kid hiding an injury out of fear of being scolded by their parents, letting it worsen instead!’

‘Is he an idiot?! He must be a complete idiot!’

‘He’s twenty years old—an adult! How could he do something even middle schoolers wouldn’t—’

Nakajima finally understood why Kousuke had seemed off during breakfast.

At that time, Kousuke’s right hand was already injured, but he had been too scared to let Nakajima notice, so he had awkwardly used his left hand to eat.

That explained why he looked so clumsy.

Cursing inwardly, Nakajima suddenly recalled something else.

The Kousuke Akikawa in front of him… it really seemed like his mental age was no different from a child’s.

‘Could it be true? Could he really not have killed his mother?’

‘But he clearly has plenty of motive and was the only suspect initially!’

‘He was imprisoned and abused by his mother since childhood. He should hate her to the core!’

‘If his mother is dead, he’s the one who benefits the most!’

‘Come to think of it, when he described his mother being killed by an outsider, though he seemed resistant, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual signs of lying.’

‘Or was he pretending not to know how to lie earlier just to hide the truth when he fabricated the incident?’

Nakajima Takuto was horrified to realize that even he was starting to believe Kousuke might not be the culprit.

But emotionally, he couldn’t accept this possibility at all.

If it turned out to be true, then what he had done to Kousuke today would have serious and far-reaching consequences:

Coercion.

Forced confession.

Either one of these would utterly destroy the public’s trust in the Metropolitan Police Department.

Although, to be fair, this had always been how the Metropolitan Police Department operated.

But the fact that he had applied these tactics to the wrong person would result in unimaginable repercussions for him.

“No, it has to be you!”

“Even without your right hand, you still have your left!”

“With a knife, you could still have killed your mother.”

“Then you wiped away the fingerprints!”

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You’re pretending to be a child to lower my guard!”

Nakajima, nearly hysterical, grabbed Kousuke’s left hand and shouted loudly.

The culprit could only be Kousuke.

Kousuke had to be the culprit!

Kousuke struggled to break free, but he wasn’t strong enough to overpower Nakajima.

“Stop it!!”

At that moment, the door to the hospital room was yanked open with a sharp swish.

A high-pitched shout rang out through the hospital.

In the next instant, Nakajima felt a white, delicate hand grab his right wrist, the one holding Kousuke’s arm.

“Excuse me,” the voice said again.

Before he could process what was happening, a sharp pain shot through his wrist.

“Ahhh—!!”

Nakajima let go of Kousuke’s hand in pain and looked up at the person who had grabbed him.

It was none other than the high school detective, Sera Masumi.

“How dare a mere high schooler lay hands on an officer from the Metropolitan Police—”

Nakajima was still reeling from Sera’s earlier audacious accusation of coercion, and now she had the gall to physically intervene.

Nakajima felt that this insolent high school detective had absolutely no respect for the Metropolitan Police.

She needed to be taught the consequences of looking down on a police officer!

But before Nakajima could finish his thought, his vision blurred, and he heard a loud whoosh—a sound of something slicing through the air.

Unbeknownst to him, Sera’s other hand, the one not gripping Nakajima’s wrist, had clenched into a fist and swung past his face like a bullet.

Several strands of hair floated down in the wake of her punch.

Nakajima’s ear stung, grazed by the wind from her fist.

For a moment, it felt as if the blood in his veins froze solid.

Nakajima had no doubt—if that punch had landed on his face, he would already be en route to the emergency room.

“So reckless, Uncle. Sera is a super Jeet Kune Do master who can even suppress Ran…”

Watching Nakajima freeze in terror, Conan sighed inwardly, his lips twitching at the absurdity of it all.

“Takuto-kun! Sera-san! What are you two doing?!”

The loud voice of Chiba Kazunobu echoed in the room as he arrived moments later, eyes wide with shock at the scene before him.

After a brief pause, Sera finally let go of Nakajima’s wrist and took a step back to put some distance between them.

She casually wiped her fist, revealing a crushed mosquito on her knuckles.

The reflection in her deep green eyes showed Nakajima, his face ashen. Her delicate, idol-like face broke into an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, Officer Nakajima. There was a mosquito.”