Fushimi Roku's clothes and pants were dry, indicating he hadn't left the church and couldn't have taken the gun out to let someone else leave fingerprints.
This gun could not have been switched, as the forensic department compared and confirmed it as the murder weapon that killed Sakurai Chizuru, both by bullet model and gunpowder residue.
Fingerprints cannot appear out of thin air.
If there was a fourth person at the crime scene, how did they leave the church? Only Kawai's footprints were by the window on the second floor, and only three people's bloody footprints were in the first-floor hall... Could the murderer possibly fly?
Kazama Tatsuya sighed. After all these years, his mind wasn't as sharp as it was in his youth, and he felt like there was a fog while thinking.
He checked his watch, put down his coffee cup, and went downstairs with the crime scene report.
"Boss, where are you going?" Watanabe Shun asked while slurping instant noodles.
"To pick someone up."
"Are you really bringing her over? That's not according to the rules, is it?"
Kazama Tatsuya stood at the office door, glanced at a few subordinates, and asked, "What rules? Want to take over as section chief?"
"Really?" Watanabe Shun's eyes lit up. "I didn't expect you to value me so much, Boss..."
"You've lost your vacation this month."
"Huh? Wait, why?"
After Kazama Tatsuya left, Watanabe Shun looked bewildered and asked his colleagues, "Did I say something wrong again?"
...
In the latter half of the night, the rain finally stopped.
Minamoto Tamako sat in the back seat, carefully reviewing the crime scene report.
"You should know the rules, right? Case details can't be disclosed, remember to keep it confidential," Kazama Tatsuya reminded her and continued, "What do you think about the fingerprints on the gun?"
"This indicates that during the murder, a fourth person was present, and that mysterious person shot and killed Instructor Sakurai." Minamoto Tamako exhaled heavily, "That's good, Fushimi isn't the murderer."
"What if the fingerprints were forged?" Kazama Tatsuya asked.
"How would they be forged?"
"Just exploring possibilities," Kazama Tatsuya glanced at the rearview mirror.
"Hmm," Minamoto Tamako pondered for a moment and speculated, "There were coils in Instructor Sakurai's suitcase, but no needle. Don't you find it strange? The murderer might have dipped a needle in sweat to draw new fingerprints on the gun's grip."
Just as she finished speaking, she rejected her own speculation:
"But this is only theoretically possible. Firstly, the difficulty of drawing is too high, considering the gun-gripping posture, drawing force, fingerprint size, and other factors;
"Secondly, sweat is invisible. Who can paint with transparent paint on a transparent canvas? It's like a micro-carving master sculpting with closed eyes."
Finally, Minamoto Tamako concluded, "Compared to forging fingerprints, the possibility of a fourth person being present is higher."
Kazama Tatsuya made no comment.
He suddenly realized he was working in vain. Even if the fingerprints on the gun were forged, he had no evidence to prove the fingerprints on the gun were fake.
The car braked suddenly, and Minamoto Tamako's head almost hit the front seat.
Surprised, she looked up to see Kazama Tatsuya's solemn face, saying, "Sorry, you'll have to stay at school tonight."
"What happened?" Minamoto Tamako asked nervously, "I... I can help! Please give me a chance, I really want to catch the murderer..."
"Just a temporary matter,"
Kazama Tatsuya explained casually and turned the car around to send Minamoto Tamako back to school.
"Transfer care to room 104," he held the car's police phone and, after hearing a prompt tone, ordered his subordinate, "Bring the suspect back to the station."
"Huh? Now? But the doctor said he needs further hospital care..."
"Now, bring him back."
Kazama Tatsuya hung up the phone and drove back to the police station.
An hour later, Fushimi Roku was brought into the interrogation room. The pendant light was bright, but the light was cold. He yawned, both drowsy and tired, with his head and fingers aching vaguely.
"You don't even respect basic human rights. I really overestimated the competence of Japanese criminal police, no wonder civilians call them tax thieves..."
Fushimi Roku had only complained a couple of sentences when he heard a commotion outside the interrogation room.
Kazama Tatsuya decided to personally interrogate the suspect, which was a first in three years. Outside the one-way glass, curious officers were crowded, watching Fushimi Roku like observing a monkey, whispering among themselves.
"No, he's too thin, he probably won't hold out for long..."
"I bet 500 yen he'll only last five minutes."
"Five minutes is too fast, I bet ten minutes..."
With the case reaching the media, the police faced great public pressure; the chief demanded it be solved within three days. Fortunately, Section Chief Kazama caught the suspect that very night, calming their previously anxious hearts, intending to slack off together and watch the excitement.
Kazama Tatsuya organized the materials and evidence, checked the time, and said, "Don't let him sleep, wake me at eight."
Finishing this, he put on a sleep mask and laid back on the bench.
Fushimi Roku was ready for interrogation, but no one showed up for a long time. Drowsy, just as his head tilted, a loud voice from the intercom yelled 'Don't sleep.'
After being disturbed more than a dozen times, he was filled with frustration.
In the interrogation room without a clock or light change, Fushimi Roku couldn't sense time passing. Feeling his pulse, silently counting in his head, he estimated five or six hours passed before someone entered.
Kazama Tatsuya had just woken up, washed his face, and was invigorated. Entering the interrogation room, he signaled his subordinates to turn off the surveillance and sat down openly in front of Fushimi Roku.
"Last chance," Kazama Tatsuya placed the file folder on the table, "Confess or resist to the end?"
"I am innocent." Fushimi Roku yawned.
"Rest assured, I won't use violence," Kazama Tatsuya opened the file folder and took out a piece of paper, "This is the gunpowder residue test report found on you."
Seeing Fushimi Roku about to speak, he interrupted, "Too late, you no longer have a chance to confess. I must admit, your method is quite ingenious, but there will always be someone in the world smarter than you."
"Isn't this your tool? Drawing fingerprints with a needle on the gun grip to frame others... but unfortunately, this needle has your DNA."
Kazama Tatsuya extracted another piece of sealed evidence from the folder, showing a thin needle, "Intentional murder plus assaulting an officer, how many years do you think you'll get?"
Fushimi Roku slowly lowered his head, laying down on the table.
Turning his face sideways, he closed his eyes for a brief nap, speaking in a muffled voice, "Do I need to remind you? The afternoon of the crime, I attended a handgun operation practice class. It's quite normal to have gunpowder residue on me. Are you planning to convict me based on this?"
"Or do you think that needle is critical evidence? How can you prove I used that needle? On what basis do you claim the fingerprints on the gun are fake? Do you realize you're shaking the foundation of modern forensic science? If mere words can determine fingerprints are forged, can cases convicted by fingerprints be overturned at any moment?"
Kazama Tatsuya thought, this guy is indeed as tough to deal with as he expected.
However, once inside the interrogation room, even the most cunning suspect wouldn't cause much trouble. Even if verbal attacks couldn't breach the psychological defense of the other party, Kazama Tatsuya had other methods.
"Continue, keep him for ten hours, don't let him sleep during that time," Kazama Tatsuya stood up, adjusting his tie.
Fushimi Roku suddenly laughed, "Sorry, you've missed your chance."
Kazama Tatsuya frowned, "Playing tricks..."
"Boss!" Watanabe Shun suddenly pushed opened the interrogation room door, looking extremely distressed, "Quick, come out!"
"Don't want this month's salary, do you?" Kazama Tatsuya said.
"Something big happened!" Watanabe Shun held up a newspaper in front of him, "The culprit confessed!!"