The Locked Room and the Waterphone

From Takagi Masahiko’s Perspective

Suzuki and I approached Amemiya’s body, where he knelt to meticulously examine her from head to toe.

The next moment, he reached out and began to search her body thoroughly!

“W-what exactly are you doing?!” I exclaimed, momentarily stunned by his actions of rummaging through Amemiya’s belongings.

“I’m not interested in corpses,” he stated calmly, his expression unwavering, as his searching hands continued their work without pause.

A moment later, he retrieved a student ID and a key from Amemiya’s pocket.

‘Huh…? Amemiya had her student ID on her…? Then the one I picked up… is it Kamimura’s?’

“So… is this student ID in my hand Kamimura’s?” I asked Suzuki, my voice tinged with doubt.

“It’s too early to tell,” he replied. “I’ll check the infirmary later.”

Standing up, he turned his gaze towards the wooden bookshelf that had toppled over to the left.

‘Hmm… why is the wooden bookshelf, originally on the left side of the third row, now lying face down in front of the inner door?’

Suzuki took a few steps forward, reaching the top of the fallen bookshelf, then used both hands to slowly right it with considerable effort.

Not one to stand idly by, I stepped forward to lend him a hand.

Once the bookshelf was finally upright, the section of the floor it had concealed became visible before my eyes.

This newly revealed patch of floor seemed different from the rest; it bore a quarter-circular scratch mark upon its surface.

‘This scratch mark looks so peculiar… how could it have been made…?’

As I pondered the origins of this peculiar mark, Suzuki suddenly stood beside me and asked, “Hey, Takagi… are you familiar with locked-room murders?”

“Yes, I’ve come across them in detective manga before…”

“Do you know how many types of locked-room murders there are?”

“Well… the first type is when the culprit isn’t inside the locked room during the crime, right?”

“Precisely. In such cases, the culprit uses a weapon for a remote attack or employs an internal mechanism to commit the murder. However, we can rule out that scenario here.”

Indeed… Amemiya had been beaten to death by a blunt object, repeatedly. The very word ‘repeatedly’ was enough to confirm this was a deliberate homicide.

“The second type involves the victim not being inside the locked room during the crime.”

“In this scenario, the killer typically transports the body into the locked room after committing the murder, then stages the room to look like the crime scene. However, I’ve ruled out this possibility.”

“Because… there isn’t a single trace of blood in the third-floor hallway or at the library entrance, correct?”

“Exactly. What about the third type?”

“The third type is when the culprit is inside the locked room during the crime but escapes through some means from another location.”

“This point is crucial. The killer would use a window or a secret passage to flee the crime scene, thus creating a locked-room murder.”

“Are you suggesting, then… that the killer in this locked-room murder escaped the scene through a secret passage?”

“You might be right, or you might be entirely wrong.”

“W-what do you mean by that…?”

“Have you ever considered… that perhaps the killer never left the crime scene at all…?” A chilling, eerie smile suddenly spread across his face.

“What are you… talking about…?” My voice abruptly trembled.

“N-no, that’s impossible!!! How could *she* be the killer!!! Stop spouting such nonsense!!!” By now, his words had ignited a fury within me, making it impossible to remain calm.

“Calm down, calm down~ I never definitively stated that this particular case was the one I just described. Perhaps… it was someone else, right?”

“…Can’t you just say everything at once, you infuriating person?” Hearing his explanation, my anger gradually subsided.

“If that’s the case… then the killer must have left the crime scene through a secret passage after all, right?” I asked him.

“Ah… you actually didn’t notice,” Suzuki sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead with an expression of profound regret, before pointing towards the area above the door.

My gaze followed his direction to an inconspicuous vent. Could it be… that the killer… escaped the library through the ventilation shaft…?!

‘B-but… that vent looks quite narrow, and its length seems to be only about fifty centimeters. Could an average person even fit through it…? Moreover… the ventilation shaft is roughly three meters off the ground… without an extendable ladder placed inside, it would be almost impossible for an ordinary person to reach it by jumping alone…’

‘If the killer truly escaped the library through the ventilation shaft… how could they have placed an extendable ladder inside the room while also bringing along this single-louvered vent cover…? Were they hiding in another room on the third floor…? And then, after I left the third floor last night, did they descend from the ventilation shaft and take the elevator down?’

‘Why wouldn’t the killer simply wait for me to leave the third floor and then take the elevator to the first? Why go to all the trouble of crawling into and out of that short, narrow ventilation shaft to exit the third floor? Could there be some compelling reason for them to use the vent?’

At that moment, a thought seemed to strike me. I turned and walked through the doorway, looking upwards, then extended my gaze forward. The ventilation shaft, I realized, passed through the wall and continued outside…

‘Huh? Is that a bend ahead…? Or does it lead directly downwards…?’

“Let’s check the other rooms,” Suzuki said from behind me. “There probably aren’t any more clues here.”

“Right.”

“Let’s go check the restrooms first,” Suzuki announced, then exited the room and turned left.

I approached the sink, and together with Suzuki, we meticulously examined it, hoping to uncover any clues related to the murder.

It was then that I faintly spotted a single drop of blood on the edge of the sink. I tried wiping it with my finger, revealing a faint, dark red smudge.

‘Had I not observed so carefully, that drop of blood would have easily blended in with the black tiles on the sink’s edge, going unnoticed…’

‘From the looks of it… the killer must have been to the sink… could their purpose in coming here have been to wash away bloodstains?’

“Nothing unusual on my end. How about yours?” Suzuki asked, turning back to me.

“There’s a drop of blood here…”

Suzuki stepped forward and also wiped it with his finger. Then he said, “Let’s check the toilets. You go to the men’s, and I’ll go to the women’s.”

“Huh?! W-wait a minute… you’re going into the women’s restroom?!” I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief.

“Mmm… don’t overthink it. This is something I have to do for Kamimura Anko. If anyone sees me, you can just explain for me.”

“Hey! Why do I have to explain for you?! Hey!!!”

“Or perhaps you go to the women’s, and I’ll go to the men’s?”

At this, I was struck dumb, falling into a stunned silence. I couldn’t find a single word to refute him in that moment.

“Ugh… seriously… why do I always have to clean up your messes…?” I sighed in exasperation, then walked into the men’s restroom to investigate.

A few minutes later, I emerged to find Suzuki already waiting for me outside.

“Any discoveries?” he asked, looking at me.

“None… I checked all the trash cans inside, and there was nothing unusual…”

“Nothing abnormal on my end either. Next, the recording studio, I suppose.”

We both headed to the recording studio. Inside, the scene was as it always was, with seemingly no abnormalities anywhere nearby.

Suzuki walked towards the table laden with various musical instruments, picking them up one by one to examine them closely.

“Is there anything unusual about these instruments?” I asked, observing Suzuki’s meticulous attention to them, as if they held particular significance.

“Hey, Takagi… do you recall the Monokuma file stating that the victim was repeatedly beaten to death by a blunt object?” Suzuki asked, his attention fully focused on the guitar he held, meticulously inspecting it up and down.

“I do remember, but what connection does that have to these instruments…?”

“Have you considered what the murder weapon in this case might be?”

“Hmm… could it… not be a hammer…?”

“Hoho~? You’re thinking too simply. The shape of Amemiya’s head wounds doesn’t match a hammer’s head, and certainly not its claw.”

‘Amemiya’s wounds seemed to be linear, didn’t they…?’

“Precisely, much like… this instrument.”

He held a cylindrical handle in his left hand, while his right supported a circular metal disc. From its center, numerous small iron rods of varying lengths fanned out towards the central handle…

‘I recall… this instrument is called a waterphone, isn’t it? It seems to be frequently used in horror movie scores, producing an eerie, ethereal sound that sends shivers down one’s spine…’

“Is there something wrong with this instrument…?” I asked him curiously.

“Heh heh… who knows? You figure it out,” he chuckled, then thrust the waterphone into my hands and promptly left the recording studio.

‘…This guy’s personality is always so difficult to fathom, and Kamimura is the same way… sigh…’

I turned the waterphone over and over, examining it from all angles. At first glance, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

However, as I looked down directly onto the waterphone’s top, I happened to notice an opening in its cylindrical handle, and it appeared to contain a small amount of water. When I tried shaking it, a subtle, ethereal sound gently emanated.

Furthermore, I discovered something else: this otherwise smooth and clean waterphone had a base that, when viewed from above, didn’t appear quite so pristine; it bore several noticeable dents.

Suddenly, I fell into deep contemplation.

After several moments of thought, I at least confirmed that the killer had definitely not remained inside the locked room the entire time. At that realization, the heavy burden on my heart lifted, and I exhaled a breath of relief.

‘Next, perhaps we should check the theater…?’