The Locked Room Again

Shiraishi looked at the room, which had already been tidied up, and was left speechless.

Clearly, the room had indeed been cleaned up. There were no ribbons or tape anywhere in sight, and the books on the desk had been arranged. Only the windows and door still bore traces of adhesive—

The bedding had also been folded, though it still appeared to be the same set from the scene and had not been replaced.

"Sorry, I—" Miki said apologetically.

But Shiraishi interrupted her. "It's nothing. The Kamurocho Police Station detectives have already preserved any valuable clues. I'm just looking over the room."

As he spoke, Shiraishi looked at Ninomiya. They had preserved them, right?

"Yes. The paper ribbons that shouldn't have been in the room, the fingerprintless tape, the sleeping pill bottle in the trash can, and the brazier were all retained as evidence," Ninomiya said with a nod.

Under Eastern Island Nation procedures, even in an "undisputed suicide," important evidence such as the weapon and traces from the scene had to be retained for five years.

That was provided the family had no objections. If the family filed an application, the retention period could be extended—

Shiraishi was indeed in the room now to determine its layout. Because of Shiraishi, Beika Police Station had long since developed a habit of including extremely detailed scene photos in its reports. For any homicide case, the entire room could be reconstructed from the photos.

Kamurocho Police Station clearly did not have that habit. If he tried to piece together the room from their photos, the imagined room would be full of mosaics—

Shiraishi now recreated the scenes from the photographs at the actual scene.

What concerned him most was this locked door—

Shiraishi walked up to the door and examined it. The