After Tang Ze reviewed the method of the locked room murder, everyone's attention was still focused on Mr. Dejima, a freelance writer.
"That's the situation."
Takagi looked at Tarumi and Anabuki, who had complicated expressions, and said comfortingly, "I understand how you two feel, but the facts are before us now.
Apart from Mr. Dejima, there is no one else who could have committed the crime."
Miwako Sato looked at Dejima, who was in a state of panic after hearing what Officer Takagi said, and said, "I'm afraid you entered Mr. Moroguchi's room under the pretext of 'the final confirmation of the interview schedule scheduled for this morning.'
Because he was in a hurry to finish his manuscript yesterday, Mr. Zhukou, who is used to drinking coffee, is probably already drinking coffee.
You put cyanide in the coffee he was about to drink to poison Mr. Morokuchi, and then used the method that Detective Tang Ze had mentioned before to complete the murder in a closed room.
So, do you have anything else to refute?"
After these words, Dejima's face turned pale, and everyone could see his visibly panicked expression.
But just when everyone thought that the other party was about to confess, unexpectedly, Dejima's expression changed, and a calm smile appeared on his face: "I think you mean that the tape will be distorted?
But I should have told you officers before that the condition of my videotapes is not very good. Some of them are warped. I have as many as you want.
And if it makes such a piercing sound when it rolls back, it's impossible that no one in the room heard it."
As he spoke, Dejima took out a tape recorder and pressed the button. Then the harsh sound of the tape turning sounded and reached everyone's ears.
Dejima pressed the pause button, looked at Tang Ze and the other two, and said defensively, "If I hadn't used the tape recorder to rewind the tape, but had hurriedly rewound it by hand, the distortion would have been greater.
You can investigate as much as you want, but I can guarantee that I don't have any such tapes on me."
"No, a pencil."
At this moment, Maori Kogoro, who had come to his senses, smiled as if everything was under control: "Last night your mechanical pencil ran out of refills, so Mr. Morokuchi borrowed your old-fashioned pencil, right?
All you have to do is insert the pencil into the hole in the cassette and rewind the tape.
That way, you can recycle the tape in a short time without having to use the tape recorder at all, and you don't have to worry about damaging the tape when you recycle it."
Maori Kogoro said this with a proud look on his face: "I often did this when I was a child. When I wanted to rewind the long tape that I pulled out for a prank, I just rolled the tape on my thigh with a pencil and it would rewind."
"Also, when Detective Sato Miwako just said she wanted to investigate your tape, she didn't mean to check if it was warped or deformed."
Tang Ze looked at the bewildered Dejima and smiled, "Didn't the forensic department just say that?
There was blood on the base of the deceased's middle finger, but for some reason one part of it had been wiped off.
So, one of the tapes in your hand is definitely stained with blood.
If you deny this, how about taking all the tapes out of the room?
Although there isn't much blood, my nose is quite sensitive, so I should be able to easily find the tape stained with Mr. Morokuchi's blood that was used as the locked room technique."
These words made it difficult for Dejima to remain calm, and the smug look on Ha's face turned into deep despair.
"Mr. Dejima..." Anabuki looked at the desperate look of the man in front of her, feeling a little bit unbelievable.
"You...is it because of the incident in Akibashi..." Tarumi seemed to remember something and said hesitantly.
"It's not that simple after all."
Dejima laughed self-deprecatingly and then spoke of something completely unrelated: "Akiba once said that being in charge of Mr. Morokuchi's work is like walking a tightrope."
"Ah? Tightrope walking?" Maori Kogoro asked in confusion, "Why are you suddenly talking about this?"
"Akiba is a very simple and meticulous person, but ever since he became Mr. Morokuchi's editor-in-chief, he's always been wrapped in bandages. Do you know why?"
When Dejima said this, his expression became extremely ugly and disgusted: "Because he only tried it according to what Mr. Morokuchi said.
No matter what killing method Mr. Zhukou came up with, Akiba would try it out on his own body to see if it was really possible.
Of course, in order to avoid actually dying, he would naturally be very careful."
"Hello!!"
Tarumi, who had heard Dejima's words, seemed to realize something and couldn't help asking, "Could it be that Akibaba died in the secret room because..."
“Ah, yes, it’s just as you thought…” Dejima said with a sad and angry look on his face, “When I was sorting through Akibari’s belongings at his desk, I found a notebook.
The notebook contained a closed-room suicide method that was almost identical to the one used by Qiu Ba!"
"Then why didn't you tell the detective immediately?" After hearing what Dejima said, Sato Miwako couldn't help but ask.
"It's useless. Even if I call the police and have Mr. Morokuchi questioned, he will just say that it was Akifaba who acted on his own initiative and that he did it all voluntarily." Dejima sneered.
"But, that was just an accident, wasn't it?" Anabuki looked at his friend in disbelief and said, "Why..."
“That’s not true.” Dejima closed his eyes weakly, “Mr. Morokuchi once said this when he was interviewed by others.
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