The tragedy of Senma Furuyo's father occurred forty years ago, but it had been twenty years since she discovered the truth hidden within that final letter.
"So, you're saying that auction forty years ago took place shortly after Renya Karasuma's death?" Tsuneo asked, looking toward Hakuba Saguru. The young master was likely the only one privy to the deeper files on the matter.
"Much like the tape recording we heard earlier, the details of that incident were buried deep. Even I haven't been able to unearth the specifics," Hakuba replied, shaking his head.
Renya Karasuma... Tsuneo pondered. I wonder if that old man really died back then.
Perhaps, upon realizing that his "death" had prompted vultures to circle his art collection, he had sent a couple of "bottles of wine"—agents with codenames of spirits—to stir up a bloodbath and pack everything away.
After all, two men "lost in a storm" suddenly deciding to steal three hundred pieces of art was a bit of a stretch. Small items were one thing, but European collections often included massive suits of armor and heavy broadswords. Without a fleet of trucks, you weren't moving that much loot.
It was definitely a calculated operation. Whether they were independent contractors or members of a specific organization, however, remained a mystery.
Conan caught Tsuneo's gaze, wondering why the handyman seemed so fixated on a man who had been dead for four decades.
Seeing that no one else spoke, Senma Furuyo continued her story. "Over the years, this annex passed through many hands. It wasn't until two years ago, when I happened to mention the matter to Ogami, that this plan began to take shape."
"Ogami was quick to locate the mansion. He was incredibly aggressive in his treasure-hunting efforts, but the riddle proved to be an insurmountable wall for him."
"He had taken out a massive loan to purchase this annex. When he reached a dead end, he suddenly suggested to me: 'Why don't we invite the master detectives to solve the code for us?'"
The Phantom of the Son Discarded by God. Using Kaito Kid's moniker as a lure was a brilliant stroke. There wasn't a detective alive who wouldn't jump at the chance to outwit the legendary thief in white.
"'We can set up a high-stakes game of terror. We can even stage fake deaths along the way,'" Senma quoted, repeating the gourmet detective's words.
Ogami believed that only under the direct threat of death could human potential be truly unlocked. To that end, even Ms. Ishihara had been marked as a sacrifice from the start.
"Wait... e-even me?!" the maid stammered, her face turning pale.
What did I do wrong? Why was I on the murder list?!
"Yes. There was a surveillance camera in the room where you were interviewed. When Ogami noticed you biting your nails while reading the guest list and instructions, he clapped his hands and decided right then that you were the one," Senma nodded.
Ms. Ishihara looked down at her thumb, her expression one of pure horror. She made a silent, frantic vow to break that habit immediately.
"He wanted to use that specific habit to commit a murder, but he never expected to be killed by the very same method," Conan muttered. He had inspected Ogami's nails earlier; the bite marks had been glaringly obvious. It was the key that allowed him to see through the trick.
"Indeed. The reason he was biting his nails in deep thought at that moment was because I played a segment of the recording containing information he hadn't been told about," Senma said, glancing at the primary school student.
This child is far from ordinary.
"But why did you kill him?" Ikumi Kyosuke asked.
If they had stuck to the original plan, they might not have left so many openings. Once blood was spilled, the variables became far more dangerous to manage.
"Because Ogami had already decided that as soon as the treasure was found, he would silence everyone here. Heh. I'm sure he wouldn't have made an exception for me, either."
Senma shook her head slowly.
Ogami had stashed handguns in everyone's rooms beforehand. His ultimate goal was to fake his death and then watch from the shadows as the detectives tore each other apart in a frantic battle of wits and lead.
"To stop that fool who was acting as if he were possessed by the ghost of Renya Karasuma—to let the detectives I invited focus on the riddle in peace—I had no choice but to strike first."
Senma looked at the group, her eyes weary and complex. "So... have you solved it? The riddle of the treasure?"
Two travelers, hurried by the stride, gazed at the stars this night, as the demon descended upon the castle.
The King fled with his treasure.
The Queen wept into the Holy Grail, praying for heaven's mercy.
The soldier breathed his last, falling on his own blade, and the earth changed its hue.
Hakuba Saguru smiled. "'Two travelers, hurried by the stride, gazing at the stars'... that refers to the hands of a clock—the hour and the minute hand."
He turned to look at the wall behind the head of the table.
Indeed, it was a glaring anomaly. In a mansion of this size, it was the only clock to be found, and it didn't even tick. Even if the art had been looted forty years ago, a single broken clock was a strange thing to leave behind.
They had overlooked it until the little boy with glasses made a seemingly offhand comment about it.
"And then there's the 'final trump card' written in blood by your father," Mogi Harufumi added. He and the others had found the message in the piano room using luminol.
It was clear that Senma's father, the scholar, had solved the riddle long ago. But he knew that whether he spoke or stayed silent, his fate was sealed. So, he left the answer for the future.
"Trump cards" referred to the face cards in a deck: the King, Queen, and Jack. K, Q, and J.
In the language of card suits:
Diamonds represent wealth—the treasure.
The King fled with his treasure refers to the King of Diamonds.
Hearts represent the Holy Grail—emotions and love.
The Queen wept into the Grail refers to the Queen of Hearts.
Spades represent the sword—justice, war, and death.
The soldier fell on his blade refers to the Jack of Spades.
"You mentioned earlier that everything in this house was custom-made for the Karasumas, including the playing cards," Ikumi Kyosuke said, placing the three specific cards on the table.
"Now, let's reset the clock to zero."
Hakuba Saguru took the lead, stepping up to the clock. He began to turn the minute hand based on the directions the faces on those three specific cards were looking.
The values for K, Q, and J are 13, 12, and 11.
Thirteen turns to the left. Twelve turns to the left. Eleven turns to the right.
With a heavy clack, the clock—which had been bolted firmly to the wall—tumbled to the floor. Upon impact, the outer layer of paint flaked away, revealing a brilliant, shimmering metallic surface beneath.
"The clock... is made of solid gold?"
The detectives stood there, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and utter disappointment.
Is that it? All this death... for a clock?
(End of Chapter)
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