Posha and I turned our steps back toward the hideout where Walter was waiting.
We’d spent too much time going around the three storage facilities, and anyway, we’d achieved our initial goal.
“So, the princess entrusted the item to that storage facility? And you found it in just one day?”
Walter gave me a sidelong glare.
“It’s clearly a good thing… but I can’t be entirely happy. What a fraud. You have the ability to pull off something like this, yet you claimed you weren’t smart? If Mr. Hayes is stupid, then half of humanity must be apes.”
Oh, come on!
“Fine! I’m actually a genius! I was just being modest! Happy now?”
“You should have said that from the start.”
Walter snorted.
Even Miss Posha seemed to subtly agree with Walter’s words.
Ugh, so unfair.
I never said I was stupid!
I just honestly admitted I’m not smart enough to be a detective!
Of course, complaining like this would only get me ignored.
“But the real problem is getting inside that impenetrable storage facility,” Walter said.
“Right. It won’t be easy at all.”
Posha sighed in response.
“Rumor has it that the storage owner’s mother was a very famous shaman from Oswan. So the owner inherited the ability to look at someone’s face and see their past.”
“That’s all superstition. Where in the world is there such an absurd ability?”
Said the man who had guessed my profession just by looking at my face.
“He must be observing a person’s overall impression, then intuitively reading the traces of life revealed by their face, physique, clothing, and expression. Not a supernatural ability, but a very scientific and realistic method.”
What’s the difference?
Whether he uses a mystical ability inherited from a shaman mother or reads people in an instant with absurd intuition, aren’t both superhuman abilities? It’s practically magic.
As an ordinary person, I don’t care about the activation mechanism.
“No, Mr. Hayes. This is an important issue.”
Startled.
Walter had answered as if reading my mind.
If this isn’t magic, then what is?
“I’m not reading your mind, Mr. Hayes. Your expression is just too easy to read. Miss Posha probably read it too, right?”
I turned to Posha to see if that was true, and she smiled silently.
‘Guess so.’
So out of everyone here, I’m the only one who can’t read other people’s minds?
Why am I the only one who isn’t a wizard? It’s unfair.
“Honestly, how can such a great detective fail to control his expression… Anyway, this is an important matter. If it’s a supernatural ability, we can’t deceive it, but if it’s scientific reasoning, we can fool that intuition with acting.”
‘That’s a valid point.’
In fact, I had witnessed such a scene before.
Christine completely fooling Walter’s intuition with her acting.
Because of that, Walter still didn’t know I had the photo in question.
“With your acting skills, Mr. Walter, it should be possible.”
“Of course. How impressive can a mere vault keeper’s intuition be?”
Walter nodded confidently, unaware of the truth.
—
Morning of the fifth day of tracking Taylor John.
The weather was quite nice today.
The sky was clear, and people passing by wore small smiles on their faces as the year’s end approached. The morning newspaper only showed anticipation for the coming new year.
No matter how much I searched the paper, there was no article about a new murder by Taylor John.
‘This makes it much more likely that Wilhelm Grand Duke’s Son is Taylor John.’
With Madame Moss dead, the power to suppress the media was gone.
If Taylor John had committed a murder, it would definitely have been in the newspaper.
No murder had occurred.
It was the morning of the fifth day of tracking Taylor John.
In other words, even though all the Taylor John candidates had arrived in the capital five days ago.
‘If something unusual happened to the other targets, Detective Beron or Charlie would have contacted me.’
But I hadn’t received any contact.
That meant it was highly likely that Wilhelm Grand Duke’s Son was Taylor John.
Currently, the Grand Duke’s Son would be too busy to even dream of his enjoyable hobby of murder.
‘The precious half of the evidence was taken by the princess, and the other half is in my possession.’
In other words, if either piece of evidence was recovered by the Grand Duke’s Son, this peace would end.
Taylor John would return.
So this operation had to succeed.
‘Can Mr. Walter pull it off?’
I pretended to keep reading the newspaper and glanced up.
I saw the peaceful street scene.
Beyond the bench where I sat, a gentleman with a kindly appearance was passing by.
He wore a top-quality wool frock coat and custom shoes, carrying a leather bag, with a gentle impression.
—Knock, knock.
The gentleman stopped in front of a building made of thick granite bricks and knocked on a heavy bronze door.
Armed guards stood firmly in front of the door but did not block the gentleman.
—Creeeeak.
The door of the small fortress, which seemed like it could withstand cannon fire, opened slightly.
“Hello? I came to deposit something.”
The gentleman’s gold-rimmed glasses glinted in the sunlight.
“Welcome, guest… no, wait a moment.”
A sharp voice seeped from beyond the door.
‘Oh, please.’
As I watched from a distance and swallowed dryly.
“You’re not a guest, are you?!”
Good heavens. He noticed?
‘No way. He looks like a solid finance businessman from every angle! There’s no way he could tell he’s a detective.’
I was screaming internally when,
“Interviews are through the side door, not this one.”
‘…Huh?’
What was that?
Not kicking him out outright, but an interview?
“You’re here for an interview, aren’t you? You’re a soldier.”
A confident voice came from beyond the door.
“Can’t call you a discharged soldier either. The war ended long ago, but your mind is still wandering somewhere on the battlefield. You are a soldier. In the past, and now. Your life’s purpose is to fight, defeat enemies, and survive. Personally, I’d rather not have someone like you close, but you wouldn’t be bad as a guard.”
Walter, who was usually eloquent, remained silent, unable to speak properly.
“If the interview goes well and you start working here, just come in ordinary clothes. I understand you dressed up for the interview, but if you walk around dressed like a half-baked banker, people will get confused whether you’re a guest or a guard.”
Creeeeak, bang!
With those final words, the door closed.
“…This isn’t easy.”
A thoroughly dejected Walter came and sat beside me.
“That person’s mother was a shaman from Oswan, right? I think I need to go to Oswan sometime and get my fortune told. Seems quite accurate.”
And yet he said he didn’t believe in such superstitions.
I wanted to tease him thoroughly, but Walter’s face looked too dejected.
The vault keeper recognizing him as a soldier seemed to have hurt him deeply.
‘Well, Mr. Walter did feel disgust toward his identity as a discharged soldier.’
I was also curious.
Mr. Walter is a detective now, so why did the keeper call him a soldier?
Was it really because he looked into his ‘past’ and said it?
“But thanks to you, Mr. Walter, we learned one thing.”
I said, trying to comfort him.
“The vault keeper doesn’t just reject troublesome occupations like thieves, detectives, or cops.”
He also doesn’t accept guests who look poor on sight.
Well, from the keeper’s perspective, that might be a reasonable judgment.
If a shabby-looking guest actually has no money, it’s right not to accept them. And if a shabby-looking guest actually has money, then it’s likely suspicious money.
“So, someone who works or has worked in a profession that looks wealthy in the keeper’s eyes has to go.”
“I suppose so. Since my disguise and acting didn’t work either. But…”
Walter let out a deep sigh.
“The problem is how we get such a person to participate in our operation. It’s too late to find a new collaborator now.”
“……”
I looked up at the sky for a moment.
‘This operation must succeed no matter what.’
Too much was at stake to back out now.
…Ah, damn it.
“Mr. Walter. Do athletes make good money? For example, a cricket player?”
“Well, of course. I personally don’t understand why people get excited about sports where you hit a ball with a bat… but wait. Don’t tell me…”
Yes, that “don’t tell me.”
I let out a deep sigh that felt like the ground was caving in, then said,
“I think I might be able to pass the vault keeper’s inspection.”
—
“How is it, Mr. Hayes? I’ve disguised you as you wished.”
I looked into the mirror.
Black, messy hair. A somewhat pale complexion.
A physique that wasn’t small, yet wearing clothes that seemed too loose.
I unconsciously clenched my fists.
‘…I really do look like him.’
Not exactly the same, but similar.
Like how I looked right before I fell into this place.
“But I don’t know what this means.”
Walter lamented in confusion.
“We’ve already proven through Miss Posha and my experience that the vault keeper sees through disguises. A disguise would be meaningless, and you didn’t ask to look like a successful athlete. This is such a meaningless disguise.”
“Just… to steady my mind. To recall a past moment.”
I gave half the reason.
But at the same time, this disguise was meant to let the vault keeper read ‘my’ past.
‘It would be a problem if he reads this body’s original past.’
To be honest, I did want to hear it once.
This body’s original owner could be a noble bloodline of the imperial family, a soldier, or a vicious criminal.
Given that he was a victim of Taylor John, there was even the possibility of originally being a woman.
I still haven’t clearly identified his identity, and even now I’m curious.
But at such a crucial moment, I couldn’t risk gambling on an identity I didn’t even know.
That’s why I chose to disguise myself as my past self.
I couldn’t be sure of the mechanism by which the vault keeper sees through his target, but I hoped that by doing this, he might see the past of the ‘me’ layered on top, rather than the original body’s owner.
Finally, I picked up my lead cane.
Not by the curved handle as usual, but gripping below it to adjust the center of gravity.
Like holding a bat.
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“I trust you, Mr. Hayes.”
With a pounding heart, I knocked on the vault’s door.
—Knock, knock.
I waited without saying anything, and after a moment, the door opened.
“What’s with all the people today… Huh? You?”
The black shadow I had seen over Miss Posha’s and Mr. Walter’s shoulders the previous two times.
A black figure whose face, expression, everything was unreadable, stared at me for a long time.
“You’re… an athlete. A pretty successful one, aren’t you?”
Phew.
‘As I hoped, he’s seeing me, not the original body.’
The tension in my shoulders eased slightly when an unexpected blow came.
“But you retired. An unwanted early retirement. Injury? Or a disgraceful scandal? Whatever it was, you lost everything in an instant and fell to rock bottom. A tragedy that struck a young, promising athlete all at once. It’s unfortunate, but common. Isn’t it?”
I understood why Posha had hesitated to knock on this vault’s door until the very end.
Why Walter had become so dejected.
This was truly an unpleasant experience.