Detached villa

After a few days of living in peace like this, Mitarai and I agreed not to mention the incident at that time anymore. Although in private I repeatedly thought of and reminisced about his thoughts and attitudes, but in any case, let’s talk about it now. It all seemed too late.

On the weekend, Mitarai and I were woken up by the ringing of the phone. Mitarai was always delirious when waking up, so I got out of bed to answer the phone, and there was a burst of English that I couldn't understand.

I was so frightened that I dropped the microphone directly. I couldn't even spit out the stumbling English sentence beforehand. I just popped out a few words and rushed back to the room, trying to wake up Mitarai desperately. At the same time, I hoped that my That sentence of English that is as weak as a primary school student can be understood.

Mitarai was forcibly dragged off the bed by me, and his cheeks were a little swollen from the pressure he held for a long time.He rubbed his slightly curly hair, walked to the desk and answered the phone.

I saw him say a lot of words that I couldn't understand, his mind seemed to be clearer, and at the same time he showed an impatient expression.I don't know what happened, but it's not easy to ask him directly.

"Ishioka-kun, change your clothes and let's go downstairs for dinner."

"so early?"

I glanced at the clock, and it was still 7:00 am, which was too early for both Mitarai and me.

"Yeah." Mitarai yawned while talking, and poured himself a cup of black tea, "The Paris police will come to find us later."

police?I didn't expect to hear such a name from Mitarai's mouth.

"why?"

I asked him.

"I don't know yet." Mitarai didn't seem to be worried at all, and I think so, in my impression, Mitarai has never had a good look at the police, whether it is the Japanese police or the local police I met in Mexico.

Hearing what Mitarai said, I tidied up with him and went downstairs.

We finished our breakfast in the restaurant of the hotel, and not long afterward, a waiter came over to say something to Mitarai, and led us to another room.

Since it was in a foreign language, I basically didn't understand anything. The specific content was recorded by Mitarai and translated to me afterwards. It was basically the same as when I was investigating the Russian ghost warship. It perfectly assumed the position of a translator.

The two police officers from Paris kept a fierce look on their faces. First, they put their police IDs in front of us. One was named Charlie, and the other was a little younger named James. They had a domineering attitude and did not express their intention to come. , began to question us as soon as it came up:

"Japanese? Name?"

Mitarai lowered her head, looking very uninterested in answering.

"Yu-hand-wash." The police officer murmured word by word, and then asked, "What about him?"

I saw the policeman looking at me, looking fiercely at the same time and speaking strange words, which made me straighten my back involuntarily, with a nervous expression.

"Officer Charlie Mance." Mitarai lazily glanced at the name on the police officer's ID card, and he told me afterwards that he memorized the police number by the way, "You haven't told us your purpose yet."

"This one can't understand English?" Charlie said contemptuously, and then quickly continued, "I warn you in advance, I have heard your name from friends I know, but I and those incompetent policemen It's different, in my case, I don't need you, a layman, to point fingers, no matter how high your reputation is, do you hear me!"

"I don't know if it's the same incompetence," Mitarai snorted softly, "but the same arrogance is certain."

"Do you know him?"

James handed over a photo on the table, and I saw that the person on it was the Japanese I met in the coffee shop a few days ago: Shuzo Fujii.

"We found out that he met you not long ago," Charlie pointed his fingers at the table with a haughty attitude, "Do you have anything to say?"

"If the police's time is really tight, they won't waste time on us." Mitarai sighed and leaned back in the chair boredly, "We are not close to Fujii, but the police still came to the door. That means they're in the same boat as those stupid guys in Japan."

"Assuming that something happened after Fujii left, it shouldn't have come after such a long time. That is to say, in the past two days, there has been a case on Fujii that has left the police at a loss." Mitarai waved his hand, "He Killed?"

"How do you know?" Charlie tensed up instantly, "You did it?"

Mitarai sneered, and sarcastically said: "No matter which country the police are, they always look like they are arrogant but not brainless. You still don't want to say it?"

"Hmph." Charlie retorted angrily, "It wasn't homicide or suicide."

"Ah, suicide." Mitarai sneered, "Then please go back."

After speaking, he made a gesture to send people out.

"Wait!" The old police officer couldn't bear it anymore, "Don't forget that you are a suspect in front of us! You arrogant detective!"

Mitarai shrugged and whispered in my ear, "Maybe my first job should be an astrologer."

"Indeed, if it was suicide, there would be no need to run errands to investigate." James was not as angry as the old police officer, and his tone could still be called calm, "Fujii hanged himself in his studio, you are his friends naturally You should also know his work."

Mitarai translated the words of the police to me and explained that Fujii Osamu had a studio dedicated to his photography.

"The rope is a section of a large length of nylon rope, which was placed in the studio. We asked his assistant, but the assistant didn't know when these nylon ropes were in the room." James said from his pocket. He took out a notebook, "There are Fujii's own fingerprints on the rope. After our simulation of the scene, we took into account everything from the height of the on-site foot tables and chairs to the closedness of the room, plus the testimony of the assistant, there was no one but Fujii that day. Staying outside the studio and no one else coming in or out. So our basic thinking is that he committed suicide and we want to close the case with that conclusion."

"The police always like to ignore the truth they have seen, but this time there is obviously evidence that they can't ignore." Mitarai mocked.

"You bastard, that's not the case." Charlie scolded angrily, "Because the doors and windows at the scene were locked from the inside, we searched thoroughly, and there was no other exit at all, so we came to the conclusion of suicide!"

"But you're ignoring the fact that he's about to have a photo exhibition."

"Don't talk nonsense, layman." Charlie turned his head angrily.

Mitarai shrugged and said nothing.

"But yesterday, Fujii's ex-girlfriend Sophia turned herself in, saying that she killed Fujii." James made a helpless expression, "Do you know how ridiculous this matter is?"

"She claimed that she controlled Fujii with magic and made him commit suicide!"