In response to Natsue's question, I slowly shook my head. "There are no definitive clues yet. But one thing is certain: unless the culprit is a ghost, the murderer is one of us."
A ghost was impossible. My meaning was clear: the killer was standing in this room right now.
The family members exchanged glances, their eyes filled with suspicion. The dining hall fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Actually, I have a suspect in mind," Tatsuo said, suddenly standing up. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his posture arrogant and smug.
"Tatsuo, do you really know who it is?" Akie looked at her husband in shock.
Tatsuo ignored her completely. He walked straight up to Takeshi Hatamoto, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Takeshi, I seem to recall you visiting Grandfather's room this afternoon, didn't you?"
Takeshi flinched. His eyes darted around nervously, and his face paled.
"Don't deny it. I saw you enter his room with my own eyes. Not long after, I heard Grandfather shouting at you. You had a fight with him, didn't you?"
Tatsuo's voice was slippery and venomous, every word designed to draw blood.
"Takeshi... is that true?" Natsue looked at her husband, wide-eyed.
"I also know something even more interesting. Something Takeshi definitely doesn't want you to know," Tatsuo sneered, glancing at Natsue.
Takeshi looked like he was about to be sick.
"Tatsuo, what is it?" Mariko asked eagerly, her eyes lighting up. She sensed a turning point—a chance to invalidate the will and reclaim the inheritance.
"Stop pausing for dramatic effect, Tatsuo. Just tell us what you know," Jouji urged, playing the role of the reasonable peacemaker.
"Spit it out," Akie demanded.
"Tsk, tsk. Don't rush me. I'll tell you," Tatsuo said, clearly enjoying being the center of attention.
"He's disgusting," Sonoko whispered, burying her face against my chest.
I smirked faintly. Tatsuo acts like this, and in the original timeline, he ends up dead. I wonder if fate will repeat itself.
"Mr. Tatsuo, please speak clearly," Natsue asked seriously.
"No problem. Since Miss Natsue insists, I won't waste time." Tatsuo laughed arrogantly, staring down the trembling groom. "Takeshi... or should I say, Takehiko Zaiki?"
Takeshi's body seized up. His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with a mix of fear and anger.
"Takehiko Zaiki?"
"You might not know that name," Tatsuo continued, savoring the moment. "But Uncle Jouji and Aunt Mariko certainly remember his father... Isao Zaiki."
"Isao Zaiki?" Jouji frowned, the name ringing a bell.
"I remember!" Mariko shouted, her eyes widening. "Isao Zaiki... the man whose company was hostilely taken over by Father! He committed suicide because of it!"
"Exactly. I remember too," Jouji said, looking at Takeshi in shock. "So that means Takeshi is..."
"Murder for revenge. The motive is pretty clear, isn't it, Mr. Detective?" Tatsuo turned to me, his grin stretching ear to ear.
I smiled calmly and stroked Sonoko's hair. "Actually, I suspected Mr. Takeshi from the beginning."
Tatsuo blinked, surprised. "Impossible. You're an outsider. How could you suspect him?"
I glanced at Tatsuo, then turned my gaze to the groom. "Mr. Takeshi, where is the flower that was pinned to your chest?"
"Flower?"
Everyone paused, looking at Takeshi's lapel. The red boutonniere that symbolized the groom was missing.
"I found this in Chairman Hatamoto's room." I pulled a crushed red flower from my pocket.
"That's Takeshi's..." Natsue whispered, her face draining of color.
"It was you! You murderer! Why did you kill Father?!" Mariko screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Takeshi, though deep down, her eyes sparkled with delight.
"Mariko, maybe it's a misunderstanding," Kitaro murmured weakly.
"Misunderstanding?! That flower was on his chest! It must have fallen off during the struggle when he killed Father! This is proof! Who knows, maybe Natsue is an accomplice!"
"Aunt Mariko?!" Natsue looked at her aunt in disbelief.
"It's possible," Akie added, jumping on the bandwagon. "Grandfather was old, but he had a good ten years left in him. Maybe Natsue found out about the will and conspired with Takeshi to kill him early so they could get the money now... It's not impossible."
"Akie...?" Natsue looked utterly lost.
"Father treated Natsue well, don't make wild guesses," Jouji said, trying to mediate. "However... Takeshi's suspicion cannot be cleared."
"Stop! Don't pressure Natsue!" Takeshi shouted, his voice breaking. "It's true! I am Isao Zaiki's son, Takehiko. I approached Natsue originally for revenge..."
"He admitted it!" Akie crowed, crossing her arms triumphantly. "Mr. Detective, the case is solved. But I still think you should investigate Natsue. What if they really are partners in crime?"
"Takeshi...?" Natsue stared at him, her eyes filled with despair.
"But!" Takeshi yelled, tears streaming down his face. "But later, I realized I truly loved Natsue! I did see Grandfather this afternoon, and he found out who I was. But I had already given up on revenge! Grandfather even apologized to me! I just want to spend my life with Natsue! I didn't kill him!"
Tears of a man are not shed lightly, only when the heart is truly broken. Caught between the ghost of his father and the love of his life, Takeshi was in agony.
"Takeshi... sob..." Natsue threw herself into his arms, weeping uncontrollably.
Sonoko sniffled, wiping her eyes.
I sighed inwardly. My shirt is getting wet.
"Even if you say that, it doesn't clear you as a suspect. Mr. Heiji, you have the most authority here," Jouji said, looking at me.
I nodded. "As of right now, Mr. Takeshi carries the heaviest suspicion. There is no doubt about that."
"So, from now on, we lock Takeshi up alone. We'll hand him over to the police tomorrow," Tatsuo declared arrogantly.
I didn't object. Instead, I cast a covert glance at Ichiro Hatamoto, who had been silent the entire time. A faint smile touched my lips.
Cast a long line to catch a big fish.
Takeshi was locked in a storage room on the lower deck.
"I'm not the killer! Natsue, you have to believe me! I didn't kill Grandfather!"
Takeshi's desperate cries echoed through the heavy door.
Natsue, supported by Sonoko, walked away, unable to bear it.
By now, it was past eight o'clock in the evening