Chapter 29

29. "Starting next week, attendance will count toward your grade in lectures"

"Before the incident, someone saw you walking with Lily Schneider toward the teaching building where it happened. The atmosphere between you didn't seem particularly friendly."

The man questioning me was named Frisies.

His investigative style had always been efficient and unsmiling, giving people a very serious impression.

Wearing an icy expression, he continued, "Also, according to our investigation, you usually aren't on campus on Mondays. Why did you choose to go to the university today?"

"Also, when you choose to read in the library, you usually reserve a study room. However, the library management system shows that the study room you frequently use wasn't reserved at all today. Why did you suddenly change your habit and choose not to use a study room this time? Are you hiding something about that?"

Detective Frisies's questioning was clearly quite different from Lestrade's, marked by a sharp determination not to let things slide.

I explained, "There was a lecture on the fundamentals of Computational Mathematics today..."

Before I could finish, he interrupted, "According to my investigation, you normally wouldn't go to campus on this day, correct?"

That was because I usually skipped Professor Moriarty's class. I also often went to Scotland Yard in Sherlock's place on Mondays, so the detectives knew I wouldn't be going to school today.

I explained patiently, "Normally, I set aside this day for part-time work. You can ask Mr. Holmes about that. I usually work for him. Today there was only a lecture, no discussion class, and attendance didn't count toward the grade. I went to campus today mainly because my roommate, Mr. Watson, asked me last night to have a meal near campus. To avoid making multiple trips, I chose to stay on campus all day and attend the lecture while I was there."

I continued, "As for why I didn't use a study room, I generally don't need one when I'm not doing homework. I don't use a study room every time, do I?"

At that point, I asked, "Does the school library have surveillance cameras? If it does, you can check the footage."

As I spoke, Detective Frisies lowered his stern gaze to his documents again and said, "This isn't the time for you to question the detective."

He paused briefly, and only when he saw that I remained quiet did he confirm, "So, you have no alibi."

I admitted, "If there aren't any surveillance cameras, then I really don't have an alibi."

That answer clearly didn't satisfy the detective. He pressed, "Could you think back more carefully? Did you use a school computer, participate in any online activities, or have any records of communication with friends?"

I replied, "Thank you for the reminder, but I really don't have any such records."

At that, Detective Frisies raised his eyes from the documents and looked at me silently. After a moment, he said, "I can't determine whether you're lying, and you have no evidence to support your account. That doesn't work in your favor."

I understood that.

Detective Frisies remained impassive. "At this point, would you like to get yourself a lawyer?"

I thought finding Sherlock might be faster, but this minor case seemed

not to require an in-depth investigation by him.

"I'd actually very much like to take part in the investigation and prove my innocence. However, given my current status, joining the investigation might not be in accordance with procedure."

Detective Frisies said, "As long as you understand that."

I knew he actually had many questions about the case. For instance, even if I were the killer, how had I ambushed Schneider, who was stronger than me? If I had opened the rooftop door, how had I gotten the key? If I hadn't opened it, how had Schneider gotten me onto the roof?

All of those were questions, but the investigation was still in its early stages, so he couldn't reveal too many details to me. Keeping information confidential was also an interrogation tactic. That way, people trying to prove their innocence might volunteer more relevant information, or perhaps even incriminate themselves.

But he seemed to have reached an impasse, which was why he hadn't continued questioning me.

The difficulty with the case now was that there was an eyewitness, and they must have questioned the witness before bringing me to Scotland Yard. And as it happened, I had no alibi.

However, the information about the case was still incomplete, making it difficult for him to press further.

As I quietly watched Detective Frisies, I gradually grew accustomed to the table and chair, and to the whole environment.

Seeing that he still had no intention of asking another question, I spoke up. "When I can't figure something out, I always like to start from the beginning. That's how I solve math problems. Instead of starting at the crucial point, I go back to the problem statement and work through it step by step. That actually gives me a lot of ideas."

Detective Frisies looked up at me, confusion in his eyes.

"Suppose I really am the killer. Why arrange to meet on the teaching building's roof? I wasn't close to Schneider, so why would he agree to meet me?"

"Because nobody goes to the teaching building's roof, making it a relatively secluded place to commit a crime?"

"Detective Frisies, the roof of a teaching building isn't somewhere people ordinarily go. It usually holds the water supply system for the entire building—all pipes and water tanks. You need a key to get in or out. If I specifically asked Schneider to go up to a place where people normally never go, just to chat, why would he agree?"

"Since the teaching building's roof was the primary crime scene, what else can we think, except that the killer arranged to meet the victim there? Although your point makes a great deal of sense, even if it's true that he wouldn't have agreed to go to the roof, he still had a reason to go there."

"Then what kind of reason do you think it was?"

Detective Frisies explained, "It must have had something to do with his weakness."

Everyone had weaknesses, and those weaknesses could be used to hold them hostage.

I was no exception. I had experienced that myself.

"I completely agree with you," I said calmly. "There was very little time between the incident and the report to the police, so I'm afraid the police haven't had time to conduct a thorough investigation. If you can find his weakness, it'll be easier to identify the killer."

Detective Frisies seemed to have seized on something and asked, "Then, if you were the killer, what do you think his weakness was?"

"I don't know what his weakness was either." I paused. "Actually, I wonder why the crime took place in the teaching building. What could we do there?"

"You said that's where your discussion class is held, and it's also where the professors' offices are?" Detective Frisies's expression changed

slightly, and he said, "What would you go to a professor's office for?"

Following his line of thought, I began to analyze it. "If we were only going to discuss a math problem, an argument would be relatively unlikely. But it's also possible we were going to ask about some grades that were recently released."

Frisies quickly seized on a point. "Was there a big difference between your grades and the victim's?"

I thought for a moment and answered, "Actually, not much. Even if Schneider got a perfect score of 100 in every subject, the difference between us would be less than ten points."

Detective Frisies continued pressing me. "Even so, he was still a formidable rival, wasn't he? If you couldn't become the top student in the faculty, how would you pay your future tuition? As I recall, international students pay several times more than local students."

Although he still regarded me with suspicion, I understood that he was doing his duty.

Besides, he had earlier reminded me about evidence of online activity. Whether he had done so deliberately or not, he was still on my side.

I could see that quite clearly.

"I know I'm a potential suspect. But I still have to remind you that I don't have sufficient motive for choosing the crime scene—the teaching building's roof—as a meeting place. It's not a common place to meet. I understand that choosing an inconspicuous place to commit murder would be reasonable, but there are clearly more options at school. Lately, there have often been incidents of people being stalked and ambushed near the school's back gate. Wouldn't it be more suitable for the killer to arrange a meeting there, then make it look as though Schneider had been beaten to death by an unknown person?"

"And I had no motive against him, either."

I said firmly, "I wouldn't kill someone for money."

I tugged at the reasonably presentable clothes I was wearing and said, "I have a boss—Mr. Holmes gives me money. He bought all the clothes I'm wearing (he gave me the money, and I bought them myself). If I didn't have enough for tuition, I could just ask him. If it were for the sake of honor, I've actually won the World Go Champion title. A single full scholarship at a school doesn't seem all that impressive. I could also choose to accept another university's offer. Although it wouldn't cover everything, I could still transfer. Unless he faked his grades, which I think might have stirred up my emotions."

Detective Frisies frowned deeply, his gaze sweeping seriously over my face. "Faked his grades?"

"I think, unless I discovered there was a problem with his grades and went to confront him and the professor, and something unpleasant happened between us, a crime of passion would be possible. But that would need to be verified with the professors. Since that teaching building was chosen as the primary crime scene, there's room for it to have played a part."

I said, "A teaching building isn't a very good choice for a murder scene, even if it's an unoccupied rooftop. Choosing the teaching building's roof immediately narrows the range of suspects. After all, very few people can get up there."

"By the way, was your eyewitness a professor?"

"Was the reason you didn't doubt his account that he had a witness for his alibi? Are you sure the person who testified wasn't lying?"

My question came out of the blue. Detective Frisies couldn't help frowning and began to give my words serious consideration.

Soon, he rose from his seat.

Before leaving, he told me to stay where I was.

At eleven that night, Inspector Lestrade knocked on the door and informed me that I could leave.

"The case is solved."

That was what he told me.

From my own perspective, I didn't know exactly what had happened, but I could get a supplementary perspective from the manga forum afterward, so I wasn't too worried.

Detective Lestrade seemed pleased that the case had seen a major breakthrough. "You can go. I'll tell you the details later, but you were broadly right. The killer was one of your professors. He was the eyewitness. Although everyone suspected him at the time, he also had a witness for his alibi. After we questioned the witness more carefully and explained the seriousness of the situation, they finally admitted they'd given false testimony."

I nodded politely to express my thanks. "Thank you, and thanks for all your hard work."

Lestrade sighed softly, looking somewhat apologetic. "I should have taken you home, but we have a lot of reports to finish. This is a major case, and it's also connected to the Campus Shooting from a few years ago, so..."

"It's all right."

I interrupted his explanation and smiled to show I understood.

The moment I finished speaking, the sound of a door opening caught my attention, and I happened to see Professor Moriarty emerge from another interrogation room. His face was utterly expressionless, and there was no extraneous emotion in his eyes. When my gaze passed over him, he smiled faintly. That smile was like a gentle breeze, yet also like starlight deep in the night, mysterious and warm.

However, deep in his eyes, there seemed to be endless thoughts and secrets hidden away.

His gaze seemed to linger in the long river of time, with some complex emotion flowing through it, both serene and full of profound compassion.

In that instant, I felt as though I had glimpsed a hidden corner of Professor Moriarty. "..."

Detective Lestrade also noticed Professor Moriarty looking at me and introduced him. "That's Professor William Moriarty, whose alibi was unwittingly used by the killer. He was taken advantage of too. The killer really was cunning."

Those words quickly brought me back to my senses.

The odds of Moriarty being used by someone were equal to the odds of the world ending tomorrow.

Of everyone here, he was the one who understood this case best.

I couldn't agree with Lestrade on that point.

I had thought our unexpected exchange of glances would be the end of it. However, Professor Moriarty walked over toward me.

I thought it would be better for the two of us not to speak casually at a time like this.

I was clear on that.

He was clear on it too.

Even so, Professor Moriarty said, "Lanny, although it's still some time before the Christmas holiday, there's only one more quiz and the final exam left this term before the break. Once we have some free time, I'll make it up to you for what happened today. Let's find an opportunity to meet."

There was a hidden meaning in his words, but I decided not to take the bait. "There's no need, Professor."

Professor Moriarty smiled and turned to leave. My gaze followed his retreating figure, while undercurrents stirred in my thoughts.

Detective Lestrade remarked beside me, "He must have come over specifically to offer compensation because he unwittingly gave false testimony and caused the police to mistake you for the killer. He's really a good person."

I had no way to correct him on that.

After parting with Detective Lestrade, I immediately checked the bus schedule on my phone for the trip back to the apartment. It would be more than ten minutes before the bus arrived, and walking back would take about thirty minutes. I hesitated, unwilling to walk alone at night, and was just planning to sit in the lobby until it was time to go out and catch the bus when I happened to see Watson.

I said in surprise, "Mr. Watson, it's so late. Have you been waiting all this time?"

"I had to wait for a result." Watson smiled. "Besides, Scotland Yard has heating. It's quite comfortable."

The apartment had heating too.

Mr. Watson...

I looked at Watson gratefully, an indelible emotion welling up inside me, but at the same time, I also felt a little inferior. I silently thought that perhaps I could do something for him too, so that our interactions would be more balanced, rather than so one-sided on Watson's part.

Just as I was about to speak, I saw a Holmes-shaped figure standing not far away, draped in a dark blue coat. My grateful words immediately retreated. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, you're here too?"

"It's thanks to him that you were able to finish sooner," Mr. Watson explained to me.

Watson's voice sounded beside me, and I instinctively looked in his direction. "Mr. Holmes, when did you get here?"

Sherlock said casually, "I merely heard Scotland Yard having another incompetent discussion."

Didn't that mean he'd been here for almost the whole thing?

For a moment, I couldn't put my feelings into words. A sense of being touched began to well up.

Sherlock said, "You weren't too stupid today. The location really was the breakthrough. It was clearly chosen not only because it offered a certain degree of concealment, but also because the criminal had considered having enough time to cover up the evidence after the crime."

"..."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"However, the choice of crime scene was also the flaw in this case. Without a scapegoat like you, who happened to have no alibi, the case might very well have been narrowed down to the professor immediately. I think the killer's plan was likely interrupted. He hadn't expected the body to be discovered so soon."

Sherlock looked at me again and said, "That Professor Moriarty, who unwittingly helped provide false testimony..."

I instinctively became fully alert, a faint unease rising in my heart as I tried hard to think of anything I might have overlooked.

There was a probing note in Sherlock's voice, as though he were looking into the connection between Professor Moriarty and me. He tilted his head slightly and looked at me sharply, seeming to be trying to uncover the secret in my heart.

He asked, "He asked to meet you over the Christmas holiday. Did you agree?"

The unease in my heart had been growing stronger, but Sherlock's words left me stunned.

Sherlock hadn't been there at all when Moriarty said that to me, yet he could still say something like that. Clearly, they had exchanged some words when I didn't know about it.

I hoped the manga would cover it, so I could find out what had happened and prepare in advance.

I certainly didn't want them to fight.

Watson wasn't as perceptive as Sherlock. On hearing about it, he also asked curiously, "I was thinking we'd spend the Christmas holiday

together. Are you going to see your professor?"

Watson's thoroughly ordinary conversation brought me back to reality.

The chill that had suddenly come over Professor Moriarty when we had coffee together that day flashed through my mind. I shook my head instinctively, my voice firm and certain. "I'm not close to him."

Sherlock smiled when he heard that, but seemed to think he couldn't let me skip over the topic so easily. He nodded and said, "You treat your grades like your lifeline, yet you actually want to turn him down?"

I immediately protested indignantly, "Even if a gentleman loves wealth, he acquires it by proper means. How could I possibly..."

Watson smiled beside me, put an arm around my shoulders, and said, "Lanny, Sherlock's teasing you!"

I knew that, but it didn't stop me from wanting to explain myself clearly, or from thinking Sherlock was really mean.

Watson continued, "Come on, we called a cab. It's waiting right outside, so let's go home together. Mrs. Hudson has left a light on for us."

As soon as I heard that our landlady was still awake, my attention immediately shifted, and I hurried my steps.

Not far away, I saw a black cab with a warm yellow light glowing inside, making it very conspicuous.

If we had a car now, the three of us could even listen to music on the way home together.

A thought suddenly struck me, and I asked, "Mr. Holmes, Mr. Watson, why don't we buy a car together?"

Watson wasn't confused by my sudden leap in thought and responded quite naturally, "But a car isn't very practical in the City of London, and free parking areas are hard to find."

I explained, "If we had a car, we could go farther afield on weekends. Public transportation also runs less frequently on weekends, so getting around isn't very convenient. Wherever we wanted to go on the weekend, having a car would obviously be more convenient, and we wouldn't have to wait for the bus. Besides, it would be great for picking people up and dropping them off."

Watson fell quiet when he heard about picking people up and dropping them off, apparently persuaded.

I then looked at Sherlock, who was walking silently ahead.

As though he had eyes in the back of his head, Sherlock asked casually, "Who would be responsible for washing the car, filling it up regularly, and taking it in for repairs?"

Hearing Sherlock respond, I hurriedly said, "I can do it!"

Sherlock said nothing, as though he wasn't interested, so I asked curiously, "What do you think, Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock turned his head and glanced at me as if by chance. His gaze was deep, and just as I tried to grasp what it conveyed, he quickly turned away again. That left me uncertain for a moment, and I looked to Watson as if asking for help.

I thought that when Watson couldn't make up his mind and felt either option was fine, he often tended to follow Sherlock's advice. At that moment, Watson also looked at Sherlock walking ahead—he was actually the type of person least likely to use a car. If Sherlock didn't agree, the idea was effectively dead.

I was just about to give up when Sherlock's voice came, clear and direct.

"We can consider it."

When he said that, it usually meant he agreed.

Wow, Sherlock, you really were a good person!

I couldn't help feeling happy. Just then, my phone vibrated, and I instinctively assumed the manga had updated, so I hurriedly looked down to check. Since I had very few contacts, I didn't think anyone would text me, but I had received a "thoughtful" message from "William"—

"We parted in such a hurry just now that I forgot to tell you. Because lecture attendance doesn't count toward the grade, many students have taken the opportunity to skip class, which has had a very bad effect on teaching. Starting next week, attendance at lectures will count toward the grade as well. Please remember to come to class—by your faithful friend William."

"..."

Sherlock, you and Moriarty met when I didn't know about it...

Did you also say something you really shouldn't have?!