Detective Conan: Investigative Methods
Conan stared at the crime scene, vaguely registering Hattori crouching beside him and Genta shuffling nervously behind them. Conan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that-he had no idea how the boy had ended up with them after the rest of the Shounen Tantei had gone home, but it was getting annoying. This was a really difficult case, even with himself and Hattori working together. The motive was still a mystery, the method was baffling, and the evidence-.
The evidence! Conan narrowed his eyes and ran the scenario through his mind, with the new possibility added. Yes. It could work. If the murderer did this while he was there…he needed to check. Just to be sure.
Conan glanced at Hattori and received a grin and a sharp nod. Good. They were on the same page. He whirled and ran from the room, Hattori hot on his heels.
“OI! Wait up!” Genta yelled from behind them. Conan flinched. Good grief.
Hattori laughed softly. “Well,” he declared, “at least he waited until we were outside.” Conan badly wanted to give Hattori a proper glare for that, but he needed his concentration for running. They barreled around the next corner, and found exactly what they were looking for. Conan gave Hattori his best shark-tooth grin.
They carefully approached the spot, circling around the edges before moving closer in order to get the full picture. They met in the middle and considered their missing piece of evidence. It wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t fit.
Wait. Conan and Hattori leaned closer in unison, once again seeing the same clue at the same time. “Cou-“ Conan started.
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” Genta yelled right in his ear. Conan nearly jumped out of his skin and would have fallen over if Hattori hadn’t caught him.
“Do what, Genta?” he asked crossly.
“I’ll find the clue!” Genta exclaimed proudly.
Conan shook his head. “Genta, we already-“
“You always do it!” Genta insisted. “It’s my turn!”
“Oh?” Hattori asked, grinning. “Does he now?”
“Yes!”
Conan was starting to feel a headache coming on. “Fine, fine, go ahead,” he said resignedly.
“Right!” Genta screwed a serious expression on his face, rested his chin in his hand and slowly walked over to where Conan was standing. A look at Hattori showed that he was obviously suppressing laughter. Suddenly, Genta started and glared at the ground about four feet to the left of the actual clue. Hattori started openly snickering. After about ten seconds of useless staring, he rocked back on his heels and pasted a comically surprised expression on his face. “C-could it be…?” he said suddenly in what Conan could grudgingly admit was a pretty fair impression of a phrase he did end up saying quite often. Then, for no apparent reason, he jumped straight up in the air and whirled around. Now he was facing in the opposite direction from what he was ostensibly looking for. Oh, goody, Conan thought acerbically. Progress.
Conan cautiously leaned sideways until he could see Genta’s face. The larger boy was looking frantically on the ground in front of him like the clue was going to spontaneously teleport there. “Genta,” he said slowly, “what are you doing?”
“I’m looking for the clue! Every time you do the clue-looking-thing then say that, there’s a clue right behind you. Or in front of you. Or to the side or something.”
Conan edged a little closer to Hattori, not that he’d be much help if all he was going to do was laugh. “The clue-looking-thing?” he repeated.
“Yeah!” Genta said enthusiastically, then went through the thoughtful-shocked-jump progression again. Behind him, Conan could hear Hattori howling with laughter. It was all just too much. There was only so much even the most brilliant mind could take, and Conan had hit his limit.
“But,” he said plaintively, “I’m supposed to be solving a case…”
“Right!” Genta exclaimed determinedly. “I’ll try it again!” He turned on the thoughtful face for the third time. Conan whimpered and hid his head in his hands.