At that dinner gathering, Inspector Yokomizo had been so angered that he left his brother behind to pay the bill and stormed off: Police were police—how could they rely on detectives to solve cases? Could they still be called police then?
...And yet now, this detective had come to him.
...Was this guy really that fast at solving cases?
Inspector Yokomizo was studying Jiang Xia with conflicted eyes when two officers from the Forensics Department at the table suddenly said, "Inspector, we found traces of poison here!"
"Is that so?" Inspector Yokomizo came back to his senses and strode over. "Where?"
The forensics officer said, "There were no toxins detected in the food, but Potassium Cyanide residue was found on the victim's chopsticks, plate, and wet wipe."
He pointed to the damp wet wipe. "Especially this."
"I see. Then the poison wasn't transferred through the dishes on the Round Table. Someone directly smeared it onto the victim's tableware." Inspector Yokomizo felt that the suspect could already be identified. He turned and asked the witnesses, "Who were sitting on either side of the victim?"
"It was me." Someone he did not particularly want to see spoke up. Jiang Xia stepped forward. "I was sitting on his right-hand side."
Inspector Yokomizo: "..."
Though he had some grievances against this detective, who looked like a delinquent but was supposedly a public-spirited citizen, considering his outstanding record and his status as a random passerby with no connection to the victim, Inspector Yokomizo did not think he was the murderer.
Then the murderer's identity seemed obvious. "Who was sitting on the other side of the murderer?"
A small hand rose from below his line of sight.
Conan raised his hand. "It was me. I was sitting to the left of that dead uncle."
Inspector Yokomizo: