Conan looked at the Hunting Rifle, then at the wounds on the corpse. He crouched down and sniffed the air around the Hunting Rifle.
The distinctive scent of gunpowder rushed at him.
"Looks like this was the murder weapon that killed the shop owner." Having confirmed that the murder weapon was the Hunting Rifle the Middle-Aged Shopkeeper had taken out earlier, Conan rubbed his chin and turned to look at the other three café employees, his gaze full of suspicion.
—A hunter would not easily let go of his gun, and there were no signs of a struggle on the victim's body. He had died swiftly and peacefully. That meant the murderer had to be someone he knew well, someone familiar enough to help him carry his gun, and was very likely one of these three.
This crime scene was in the mountains. After waiting longer than usual, Inspector Otaki finally drove over.
Many other police cars arrived with him, along with an Ambulance that had come merely as a formality.
The medical staff who arrived with the vehicles got out, took a look, then decisively shook their heads and left.
"An accident?"
Inspector Otaki heard the term from the employees, then looked at the many Detectives present with a doubtful expression. "Are you sure?"
The old farmer nodded, looking somewhat mournful. "Quite a few customers came today. The manager wanted to go into the mountains and hunt a wild boar, but... sigh, he was probably startled by the hawk flying toward him. His gun went off, and he shot himself."
Inspector Otaki scratched his head in confusion. "But isn't this your store's hawk? Would he really be frightened this badly by an old hawk he'd lived alongside for years?"
The manager's wife seemed to recall something and looked