The Threatening Letters, Part 2
Even now, thinking back on it, Koichi Takeuchi felt a chill run down his spine.
The letter had been mailed directly to the newspaper office. Because Charlotte had been receiving threatening letters so frequently lately, he had — after consulting her — arranged for the mail to be screened first. Any suspicious envelope with no clear sender on it went straight to him, and only after he'd inspected the contents himself would he pass them along to Charlotte.
Which meant that this particular letter had been in Takeuchi's own hands. He was just about to slit it open when Charlotte came looking for him about something. If she hadn't spotted the problem in time, it would have been his blood on the floor.
A single razor blade wasn't much, true. But with no warning at all, it could easily have left a wound far worse than a scratch.
Conan waited until the detective's attention was fully occupied by Ran and Takeuchi, then slipped the letter out of the man's hand and examined it front and back. Nothing. There was genuinely nothing remarkable about it.
So whoever sent this threat letter was being careful this time.
And that was what bothered him. Judging from the content of the third letter, the sender had clearly counted on whoever opened the envelope getting cut by the blade. If he was cautious enough to screen his own mail, then why — when he'd made up his mind to actually hurt someone — would he place the blade somewhere so obvious that anyone could spot it at a glance?
"Mr. Takeuchi, that Charlotte lady is amazing! She could tell something was hidden inside without even touching the envelope. How did she do that? Can you teach me?" Conan set the letter down and sidled up to Takeuchi, feigning wide-eyed curiosity.
"Well now, little one, that's the mark of a first-rate journalist's eye. Seeing past the surface of things to the hidden truth beneath — that... is precisely the ability that made Charlotte the excellent reporter she is." Takeuchi looked down at the little boy consulting him so earnestly, and puffed up with pride as he described the special talent of the best journalist on his staff.
"But you're still young, kiddo. Learning that kind of skill takes not just talent but years of experience. Tell you what — after you graduate from elementary school, if you're still interested, I'll have Charlotte teach you myself. How does that sound?"
Takeuchi chuckled and ruffled Conan's hair, clearly dismissing the whole thing as a child's passing whim — a convenient excuse to buy time, on the theory that if you stalled long enough, kids simply forgot.
"......"
Conan narrowed his eyes as his head got patted.
Was he seriously being humored like a little kid?
And that whole line about "seeing past the surface of things to the hidden truth beneath" — since when was that merely the skill of a good reporter?
Kogoro Mouri paid Conan's interjection no mind. It wasn't as if it were the first time; he could always dress the brat down later along with everything else.
"By the way — if these threat letters are addressed to that Miss Charlotte, why did she not come herself? Why is the editor-in-chief, of all people, the one hiring a detective?" Kogoro asked, puzzled.
Ran and Conan both turned to Takeuchi with the same question in their eyes.
At the detective's question, Takeuchi let out a long, helpless sigh and gave a wry smile. "Because Charlotte doesn't take this seriously at all!"
Under the curious gazes of Kogoro and the others, Takeuchi — though frankly irritated by her utter indifference to her own safety — couldn't help coming to her defense:
"That said, it's not really her fault. Ever since she became a reporter, she's devoted herself to putting 'the truth' of things on the front page — and as a result, the attacks and threats have never stopped coming. Charlotte can look after herself to a degree. There've been threat letters before, but nothing ever actually happened, so honestly, we'd all gotten used to it."
"This is the first time they've arrived three days running, and the first time someone nearly got hurt. I did tell her to be a bit more careful lately, but it went in one ear and out the other. I was genuinely worried — that's why I came to you, Detective Mouri. A detective of your caliber is sure to track down whoever's behind this."
At the editor's lavish praise, Kogoro couldn't help throwing his head back with a booming laugh and making a grand pronouncement. "Rest assured! Leave it to the great detective Mouri Kogoro, and I will most certainly catch the coward sending these letters!"
"Yes, yes!" Takeuchi nodded eagerly, gazing at him with shining eyes.
Conan: "......"
Heh. The old man really does have confidence to spare.
With barely a clue in hand, he'd made that guarantee without a moment's hesitation. Did he even know where to start?
"Now then — if you have any other leads, hand them all over. No sense wasting time." Kogoro held out his right hand to the editor-in-chief, the very picture of self-assurance.
"?" Takeuchi blinked at him, utterly blank.
"Detective Mouri, I gave you everything I have. It's these three threat letters, that's all......"
"Eh?!" Kogoro stared at him in disbelief. "You're telling me the only clues are three letters that don't tell us anything?"
"Oh — no, wait! There's one more thing I forgot to take out......"
With that, under Kogoro's expectant gaze, Takeuchi produced a carefully wrapped bundle of cloth.
Unwrapped, it revealed... an ordinary razor blade.
Obviously, it was the very blade that had been hidden inside the latest threat letter.
"So that's it......" Kogoro's mouth twisted in disappointment.
"Well, Detective Mouri? Can you tell anything from it?" Takeuchi watched him hopefully.
"Hmm... well, you see......" Kogoro hemmed and hawed, visibly awkward.
No matter how he looked at it, it was just a razor blade like any you'd find anywhere. There was nothing special about it, and he simply couldn't dredge up another lead from it.
Fortunately, Conan's next question diverted Takeuchi's attention. So the little brat did have his uses, once in a while.
"Mr. Takeuchi, you said the threat letters came three days in a row, ending yesterday. Nothing came today?"
By then Conan had already leaned in for a close look at the blade in Takeuchi's hand.
It was, indeed, a perfectly ordinary blade — but from its shape you could tell it had been snapped off a box cutter. That kind of knife was common in offices and among university students and faculty, though plenty of ordinary households had them too, so in truth it proved nothing on its own.
Conan had also noticed earlier that the letter paper, though unremarkable, was the same stock as standard printer paper — and he doubted that was coincidence. It suggested the suspect worked somewhere documents were printed regularly.
Put the two clues together, and the odds that the sender was a university professor or a company executive rose sharply. After all, no ordinary employee, whatever mistakes he'd made, would need to go so far as threatening a journalist.