The curtain rises on the next story
The next day, Siesta and I were in a room of a certain building.
It was past four in the afternoon.
We sat side by side on a sofa meant for visitors, waiting for the person we were meeting to arrive.
"Your deduction skills have improved," Siesta told me. She'd put the tea set she'd brought with her to work and was enjoying a cup of tea.
After parting with Scarlet the night before, I'd put together a hypothesis about the chain of incidents centered around the Phantom Thief, and once we returned to the hotel, I'd spent the entire night discussing it with Siesta. Having reached a certain conclusion, we'd come to visit this person in order to confirm our answers.
"I could sense that you'd grown last night as we walked down the street. Who'd have guessed you were the type who'd evolve even further in combat?" Siesta was talking as if I were the hero of an action manga. "You've grown up while I wasn't looking. The days when I changed your diapers are just a fond memory now."
"That definitely never happened. If anyone's a baby here, it's you. Just how late do you think you slept in today anyway?"
In a repeat of yesterday, Siesta hadn't woken this morning and slept until noon. In the evening, after I'd shaken her over and over, she'd finally crawled out of bed.
"It's all right once in a while, isn't it?" Siesta primly shrugged off my sarcasm.
I'm saying it's a problem because it's not "once in a while," okay? "Besides, the other party is also busy. This was the only time available." "Well, we did get here by the appointed time, but still…"
In the middle of our conversation, the door abruptly opened, and someone walked in. He hadn't knocked. That was only natural: He was the owner of this office.
"Did I keep you waiting?"
The man's name was Fritz Stewart.
He was wearing an expensive suit and a business smile. Instead of sitting
down across from us, he took a seat at his desk in the back of the room. We hadn't seen him since the Federal Council two days ago.
"I'm sorry; work's piled up. Do forgive me if I take care of some of it while we talk."
Fritz—who was the mayor of New York City, as well as a Tuner—opened up his computer and began typing busily.
"Is this cleanup from all those incidents?"
"…Yes. That's right, Fuubi Kase told me you'd resolved one just the other day." Glancing over at us for a moment, Fritz smiled. "I appreciate your help."
We were talking about the terrorist incidents that had occurred here in the city with the goal of having the Phantom Thief released. As the mayor, Fritz was having a tough time dealing with all of them.
"She's as much of a busybody as ever." Smiling wryly, he took a gentle dig at Ms. Fuubi. It had come up at the Federal Council, too; Ms. Fuubi had overstepped the boundaries of her job to help the Ace Detective, and now she was pursuing the Phantom Thief on her own.
"And?" Fritz asked, his pen kept skimming over the documents in front of him. "I was told you'd made a discovery in this string of Phantom Thief– related incidents."
Exactly: That was why we were here to see him. "Yeah, actually. We know where he is."
The moment I said it, Fritz's hand stopped moving. He looked up, frowning while seeming perplexed. "You already know where the escaped Phantom Thief is?"
"Hey, don't underestimate the Ace Detective and her assistant." … Although it had taken a hint from another Tuner for us to reach that answer.
"Tell me, then." Fritz's emerald eyes were focused on us. "Where is Phantom Thief Arsene now?"
"Right here," I told him bluntly.
Siesta was holding up a small round hand mirror. The mirror reflected a man whose eyes were as cold as ice, something even he probably hadn't been aware of.
"—I'm the Phantom Thief ? That's quite the joke." Averting his eyes from his reflection, Fritz went back to typing. "I introduced myself just the other day. My name is Fritz, and my position is Revolutionary."
He rejected our conclusion without even meeting our eyes.
"No, you aren't Fritz Stewart. After all…" Siesta put the mirror away. "Fritz Stewart is dead. You, the Phantom Thief, have taken the deceased Revolutionary's place."
Fritz Stewart the Revolutionary was dead. Scarlet had told us as much last night. Then, who was the guy we'd met at the council two days ago? The vampire was a rogue who generally steered clear of the mundane world and didn't put in appearances at Federal Councils, and apparently, he hadn't known there was an impostor around.
Still, one thing was certain: Somebody had assumed the Revolutionary's identity and attended the council.
"In that case, hypothetically, let's say Fritz Stewart is a fake." Fritz—or rather, the man who'd called himself by that name—stopped typing entirely. "How can you be sure his true identity is the Phantom Thief ?"
That was a perfectly natural question. If I said, "Because it would be easiest for a fellow Tuner to take his place," nobody would buy it. However, there was a reason that sort of switch would be easy for the Phantom Thief.
"Because the Phantom Thief can take on Fritz's shape using a seed."
That was what I'd guessed Seed had paid Arsene for stealing the sacred text. Then Arsene had taken the form of Fritz, his fellow Tuner, and had stolen the position of Revolutionary.
"Not only that, but the fact that none of the other Tuners have noticed the switch is proof in and of itself." Siesta gave another reason to believe that the fake Fritz was actually Arsene. "You've passed yourself off as Fritz Stewart for an entire month. You've attended the Federal Council, an assembly of Tuners, and boldly acted as mediator. Even so, none of the others—myself included—noticed that the Revolutionary was an impostor. The only conceivable explanation is because of your transcendental ability as the Phantom Thief."
Siesta wasn't being overconfident in her own powers of observation or in those of the other Tuners. The group had dealt with many, many global crises, and their skills were definitely up to the task. Even then, not one of them had suspected that the Revolutionary's position had been stolen— because they'd been up against the Phantom Thief.
"If Arsene steals from someone, that person will never notice."
It was just as Siesta had said last night.
"I see. And you noticed it because you were the Singularity—or perhaps that would be a bit too simplistic."
The man was still seated at his desk. Assuming a faint, somewhat composed smile, he went on.
"Then, why do you suppose I needed to take over Fritz's identity?"
His tone was soft. Mellow, warm, and pleasant. That gentle voice enveloped me, and for a moment, I didn't even register the change in the way he spoke. It was completely different from the cold tone I'd heard several times at the council. This was his real voice.
"—Assistant."
I snapped back to reality with the force of a bursting water balloon.
My partner was right next to me, and I remembered what I needed to do. Right: This guy had just confessed that he was Phantom Thief Arsene. …And yet he was still calmly trying to get us to tell him his motive for switching.
"Phantom Thief Arsene," Siesta said, although the man still wore Fritz's shape. "You changed your form and took over Fritz Stewart's identity—so that you could use the media to brainwash people around the world."
That might only be a theory. However, it was true that Arsene had a special skill that let him control people. Meaning it wasn't a stretch to assume he'd taken over Fritz's life in order to spread his voice around the world and exercise that power to its maximum potential.
"—I see," Arsene murmured, although it almost sounded like a sigh. Then silence fell.
"Let me clarify just one thing to avoid any misunderstandings." Arsene was the one who broke that silence. He placed both elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. "I had absolutely no part in Fritz Stewart's death. He just happened to die at a convenient time, so I took his place, that's all." His voice was like being surrounded by soft ripples as he insisted he hadn't been involved in the man's death.
"Then, what are you after?" Siesta rose from her seat and stood in front of him. This time, she wasn't asking why the Phantom Thief had taken the Revolutionary's place. We'd deduced that correctly. "Fritz Stewart died a month ago, but he seems to have been making consistent media appearances still. Meaning you must have broken out of jail at least a month ago and have
been living as the Revolutionary ever since. …So, why?" she asked. "You've been free all this time. Why have you been manipulating complete strangers into attempting to release you?"
That was the question we'd shot down as impossible while we were out last night. If he'd been able to escape whenever he wanted, then there was no point in going out of his way to choose collaborators outside prison.
However, not only had Arsene been able to flee at any time; he'd already been aboveground and free a month ago. So why had he been making people in London and New York try to break him out of prison for no reason whatsoever?
In response to that completely natural question, Arsene said, "The fact that there is no point is, to me, the greatest point there is."
His answer was incomprehensible; it sounded like a Zen koan. Siesta and I both looked confused. Arsene watched us. "Don't you understand?"
"It's an experiment. To what extent are people able to do meaningless things on someone else's orders?"
It was a thought experiment that seemed to exist beyond the realm of reason. To Siesta, whose ideas were underpinned by solid experience and logic, that sort of thing was anathema. The phantom thief and the detective: Like spear and shield, they'd been at odds with each other since time immemorial and were destined to fight.
"Do you think we're going to let you continue that experiment?"
In that relationship, the detective was sometimes the one who took the offensive. Siesta, who'd risen to her feet along with me, pointed her familiar musket at the enemy.
"Rest assured." Paying no attention to the muzzle that was pointed at him, Arsene continued in a leisurely voice. "The experiment is over; I've collected sufficient statistics. I'm sure they'll get me through to the next stage."
"Look, there is no 'next'—"
"Besides…" Arsene got to his feet, cutting me off. "What the primordial seed gave me was only a fragment of a seed. I'm unlikely to develop unwanted side effects, but in exchange, its function is limited. That means, as it stands, I won't be able to maintain this shape. I'll have to go soon."
"…A fragment of a seed? You broke the Federal Charter and stole the
sacred text for that?"
For some reason, Arsene seemed disappointed with my question. "I never let those I steal from realize what I've taken, yet you know I stole the primordial seed's sacred text. Doesn't that strike you as odd? You two were just telling me about this," Arsene scolded us.
He was right. We did know Arsene had stolen the text. However, that was because Siesta and Mia had set up the theft beforehand, so it hadn't seemed particularly strange…
"Don't tell me—are you saying the sacred text wasn't all you stole that day?" Still holding Arsene at gunpoint, Siesta cross-examined him, keeping him pinned down.
"…I see. So you had another objective?"
Siesta and Mia had realized Arsene was planning to steal the sacred text. They were on high alert. Even so, he had slipped through their guard and stolen something else—without letting them catch on.
"Then, all along, your real aim was…"
Siesta's blue eyes narrowed. She'd finally realized. She and Mia had thought they were using Arsene, but they were the ones who'd been used.
"Idly accepting what I'm owed isn't in my nature. When I really want something, I steal it myself."
Then he walked right past us.
"You think you can escape?" Copying Siesta, I pointed my gun at the enemy.
"Escape? I've never considered 'escaping' from anyone. Not even once." I heard an unsettling click right by my ear. "It's just that no one ever manages to catch up to me."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw shiny black guns. Men had appeared out of nowhere, and both Siesta and I had guns pointed at the backs of our heads. We had no choice but to put our hands up.
"…Are you manipulating these guys, too?" From the way they were dressed, they seemed to be city employees. Arsene was probably controlling them with his ability—
"No." Arsene stopped walking for a moment. "They're all helping me of their own free will."
Leaving that screwy explanation behind, he headed for the door.
"I'm fairly sure you heard me earlier." However, a lone girl stopped him.
Men in suits had her at gunpoint, but Siesta spoke over her shoulder to our departing enemy.
"A new Ace Detective will be taking over for me soon. Her passion is bound to capture you someday. Nagisa Natsunagi would never lose to the sort of enemy who uses human hearts."
In response to the Ace Detective's declaration of war, the Phantom Thief said…
"I'll look forward to stealing that passion."
He delivered that final remark with excitement, and then he was gone.