Tantei wa Mou, Shindeiru - Volume 9 - Chapter 1.03

  The witch comes and sings

Thirty minutes later…

“What a lovely aroma. Is it Kilimanjaro?”

The Parasol Witch raised the cup to her nose, savoring the fragrance of the coffee, then gently took a sip.

The way she carried herself was sheer elegance, not to be overshadowed even by the dining room of the magnificent Saikawa residence. Natsunagi, Saikawa, and I all watched her in our periphery.

“You’ll make me feel self-conscious, gazing at me like that. Why don’t you relax a little?” The woman giggled, then set her cup back on its saucer. “Granted, it is odd for the guest to be the one to say that.”

We’d ended up going to Saikawa’s place to get the details on the witch’s request to find her “lost hometown.”

The witch had put her parasol away and removed her hat, so we were finally able to see her face. Her features were as delicate as those of an exquisitely modeled doll, while her skin was as fair as Siesta’s. Her eyes were red, like Natsunagi’s.

“Kimizuka, you’re staring,” Natsunagi said, elbowing me in the side.

“Hey, observation is important. Especially for the detective and her assistant.”

“A likely story. You’ve got a soft spot for beautiful women, Kimizuka.”

Would she forgive me if I said I’d only been looking because the woman reminded me of her?

“Wait just a moment! You’ve got a thing for younger women, Kimizuka, so you shouldn’t betray the neighborhood’s expectations like that! Have pride in your identity as a fancier of underage girls!”

“You make me sound like a pedo, Saikawa!”

“This is you we’re talking about here, Kimizuka. No doubt you’ll have a new, younger heroine two years from now.”

“You’re completely out to get me, aren’t you?”

Getting back on topic… I sipped my coffee, regaining my composure, and turned to face the witch.

“So, Parasol Witch, you’re—”

“Marie,” the woman interrupted. “I introduced myself on the way here, did I not?”

“…Excuse me. Marie, who are you?”

It was a vague question, and the witch—uh, “Marie”—smiled faintly. “Explaining my request may be the fastest way to answer that.” She held out a photo. It was the one we’d caught a glimpse of when we’d met her on the street.

“So it is a painting of a landscape?”

The watercolor picture showed a view of a small, distant village. It seemed like a rural town, with a dense cluster of old, white buildings.

“I wonder what country that village is in…” I’d seen quite a bit of the world, but this scenery didn’t ring any bells for me. “Marie, what is this place?”

She’d said she wanted us to find her lost hometown. Was that the place the picture she was showing us depicted?

“Ideally, I would have been able to explain that to you, but…”

…But? That must have meant…

“I honestly have no idea where it is!” Marie gave a carefree smile that showed her white teeth. It was an abrupt change from the mysterious atmosphere she’d been cultivating up until now.

“I’m losing track of what sort of character you’re supposed to be.” I smiled wryly and exchanged a look with Saikawa, who was probably thinking the same thing.

However, there was one person here who’d picked up on what the woman meant.

“Don’t tell me… You have amnesia?” Natsunagi asked.

Still wearing that same lighthearted smile, Marie nodded. “Indeed. More than a decade ago, I was traveling overseas by myself and had a run-in with a thug, which seemingly cost me my memories. My wallet, phone, and passport were all stolen, and I lost track of my identity. The one thing I remembered was my name.”

“Then you still have no memories of your life from before the incident?”

“That’s right. My luck couldn’t get much worse, could it?” Marie’s situation was grave, but she spoke about it with surprising nonchalance, crossing her legs boldly in her slit skirt. That mystical atmosphere from before seemed to have been purely superficial; this was her actual personality. “I’ve lived alone all this time, with no idea who I am, dreaming of the day when I’d be reunited with my family, or a lover, or friends.”

“And that’s why you came to see us? To find your lost hometown?”

“Yes. I’d heard there was a detective of outstanding brilliance in Japan. However, before I found you, I went around asking people in the area, which seems to have made me oddly famous,” she said, poking fun at the fact that she’d become a bit of an urban legend.

Until just the other day, this whole area had been possessed by an enemy—or a phenomenon—called Pandemonium. The Magical Girl had told me that those evil spirits had tried to make their presence known in an attempt to put down roots here.

The influence of Pandemonium might have been more persistent than we’d thought. Had it made this an area where urban legends spread particularly fast? That would explain the peculiar way the “Parasol Witch” rumor had spread, and it might at least wrap up that story neatly.

“But Marie, how did you find Natsunagi?”

Nagisa Natsunagi might have been famous as a detective, but only in the underworld. Could Marie know about the Tuners?

“I have been traveling, trying various methods and talking with all sorts of people in order to uncover my roots. In the process, I’ve learned a little about the underbelly of this world, which is where I heard about your group. It really was just a rumor, though,” she added. Apparently she hadn’t contacted us with ulterior motives or ill intentions. In any case, doubting her wouldn’t move the story along.

“By the way, Marie. Where did you get this picture—or rather, this photo?” Natsunagi asked.

“It must’ve been around three years ago now. In the course of my travels, I saw that painting at a museum, and it felt as if a jolt of electricity had gone through me. ‘Oh,’ I thought, ‘that’s it. That’s my hometown. I’m sure of it.’ So I got permission to take this photo.”

“Then if you find the painter and ask them…,” Natsunagi started to say, but Marie shook her head.

“It wasn’t painted by anyone famous. It was hanging in what you’d call a ‘civic art gallery.’ Strangely, even the staff didn’t know who had painted it, or when, or how it had come to be hanging there at all.”

That sounded like a new urban legend: a mysterious painting, artist unknown. Yet Marie had definitely felt the presence of her lost hometown in it.

“As for other clues regarding my home—there’s a song.”

At that, Marie began to sing. Her voice was a clear soprano, and she sang a cheerful folk melody. It couldn’t possibly have been the cursed song from the urban legend. We listened, entranced, for about half a minute.

“That’s how it goes. I only remember part of it, though.”

“Amazing! You have such a lovely voice!” Saikawa clapped enthusiastically. “How can you sing like that?! Where did you learn?! That voice— How…? No, you must have been born with it. Ooooh, I’m so jealous!”

“Heh-heh! Thank you. As a matter of fact, I’ve been working as a wandering singer in my travels around the world.”

“Oh, that explains it! I wish you’d coach me!” Saikawa was already a universally popular idol, but she was always eager to learn.

“So, Marie, what was that song?”

“I have the vague feeling I sang it as a child. It’s less a memory than a feeling my body and lips remember.”

I see. That said, it wasn’t a folk song I’d ever heard. I didn’t even recognize the language it was in. As things stood, it probably wouldn’t help us find her hometown—but…

“All right. We’ll take the case,” Natsunagi said, accepting the photo.

We already had things we had to do: We needed to wake Siesta up safely, as well as carry out the Ace Detective’s mission to shut down the vampire rebellion.

Natsunagi had just taken on a request that had nothing to do with either of those things. Why had she done that?

“I used to be the same as you.”

Natsunagi had once chased memories that were invisible to her eyes. Without realizing what she was doing, she’d looked for the person her heart had wanted to find. Because of that, she probably saw herself in Marie, who was trying to rediscover her own identity.

Marie didn’t know about Natsunagi’s circumstances, and she seemed a little mystified. Regardless, she said, “Thank you,” and held out her hand to shake on it. Then she passed Natsunagi a very thick envelope. “This is a retainer. I’ll pay you a proper reward when you succeed.”

“Kimizuka. I may never actually have to find a job.”

“Not all detective work pays this well, you know.”

Someday, though… Maybe we really would start up an agency, and I’d get to work there as a detective’s assistant. That future didn’t sound half bad.