A beautiful, consummate kidnapping
After that, we chatted with Saikawa and Noches for a bit, and then Nagisa and I left the stadium. Just as we were thinking about heading home for the day, I got a text from an unknown sender.
It said, I have your precious Ace Detective.
As soon as we saw it, Nagisa and I headed for the Shirogane Detective Agency.
“Siesta!”
We unlocked the door and burst into the office, but the white-haired detective wasn’t in her usual chair at the back of the room. Our ray of hope was gone.
“…! No… Why?”
Someone had snatched Siesta.
We were too late. I dropped to my knees, and my vision went dark.
“Oh, come on! What is this, a visual novel bad ending? Get up already!” Nagisa hauled me back to my feet. “Look at this.” She showed me the notebook that had been sitting on the desk. Something was written on it.
“‘If you want your precious detective back, come to the top of the communications tower,’ it says. So it really is a kidnapping?” I said.
“Mm… I don’t think Siesta would let herself be carried off that easily.”
She had a point. If anything, I could see her lethally injuring the kidnapper with a counterattack. “Then, what, somebody she knew did this?”
“Right. And I bet Siesta knew she was being taken away. The kidnapper wrote this note with the ballpoint pen on the desk over there.”
“Oh, you’re right. You can sort of tell from the texture of the ink.”
That meant the kidnapper had written their challenge to us right here, in this office, probably in Siesta’s presence.
“They put the pen back in the holder, though, and I don’t see any signs of a fight. That means this was premeditated, and Siesta agreed to it.”
I see. Which meant the threat level was pretty low.
“Now that we know that, let’s go find our precious Ace Detective. Our ‘precious Ace Detective.’”
“What’s that look for? I didn’t write this, okay?”
I picked up the letter the kidnapper (?) had written. The top of the communications tower, huh? “Which one, though? Red or blue?”
Japan had two famous communications towers: a venerable old red one, and a comparatively new blue one.
“What are you saying? The other day, the blue one got, you know…”
“Oh, right. So red, then.”
Leaving the agency, we grabbed a taxi and headed for what was formerly the nation’s tallest communications tower. Siesta wasn’t there, though. Instead, taped to the glass on the observation deck, there was another note with the name of a new destination.
We got shunted around from place to place—cafés, used bookstores, churches—until well after the sky had darkened and filled up with stars. Finally, Nagisa and I found ourselves at an old amusement park. It was closed for the day, and apart from us, there wasn’t a soul around.
Of course, we weren’t there to have fun. In accordance with the letter’s instructions, we infiltrated the service area of one of the attractions. When we removed some of the floor tiles, we found a ladder leading down to a door.
“Any day now.” Weary in body and soul, I opened the iron door, and—
“Hold still, Charlie. You’ve got soot on your face.”
“Hee-hee! Ma’am, that tickles!”
A woman in a tank top was inside, cheerfully letting Siesta clean her face with a towel.
“What are you doing, Charlie?”
“Oh, that didn’t take you as long as I expected.”
The woman’s name was Charlotte Arisaka Anderson. She was our former companion, an agent who was active worldwide. She used her assassination techniques to save people, and I didn’t even know how many scrapes she’d gotten me out of.
Charlie had weaknesses, though. For one thing, battles of wits were definitely not her forte. For another, she liked Siesta so much she’d accidentally kidnapped her, among other things. (Don’t accidentally kidnap people.)
“Oh, Assistant and Nagisa. You came.”
“…Sheesh. Well, I’m glad you’re all right.”
Come to think of it, when Charlie had chosen the phrase “precious detective,” had she been speaking from her own point of view? Talk about the world’s dumbest kidnapper.
“You made us take the long way around on purpose. You wanted to enjoy your alone time with Siesta.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just testing you, to see whether you’d lost your edge,” Charlie said, brushing me off with a vague smile. She straightened up and took the long-barreled gun that had been leaning against the wall—Siesta’s musket. She began polishing it with a cloth.
“What is this place? What were you doing here, Siesta?”
My first impression of the room had been “somebody’s secret base.” Multiple monitors showed security footage from inside the park, and there was a worktable littered with brushes and oilcans by the wall.
“I’ve been having Charlie do maintenance on my gun. I’m considering having her decorate the barrel with a new floral pattern while I’m at it. What do you think?”
“I couldn’t care less if I tried.”
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