The Eccentric, the Beauty, and the Detective: Kiriki Junka's Mystery Log Volume 1 Chapter 13

Pre-chapter Eccentricities:

Obsequious: servile, fawning attentiveness, visibly compliant.

After multitudinous worries, I called Junka when I was on break. It irritated me, but he was more clever than I was, so he’d be most likely to come up with the best method of dealing with the situation.

“That elderly man isn’t a stalker,” Junka shut me down as if he had heard utter rubbish, “I mean, isn’t it odd that he came during the off hours in golden week? If he had a thing for that florist, he ought to have come on May 1st and 2nd, and there’s no real need to come at lunch. You haven’t explained his strict adherence to when he comes and goes, either. Doesn’t the woman keep working after he leaves? If he was a stalker, he wouldn’t give up the ideal location and conditions in the Chapeau at such strange times.”

I placed a finger on my brow, embarrassed by what I’d been thinking.

“Then just who is that old man, and why does he repeat such strange actions? You tell me!”

Junka remained incredibly calm, “Like. I. Said… you should just ask him yourself. I told you before. If you do that, you’ll know everything.”

“Shut up, I’m not giving up now. I’ll definitely sniff out that man’s true nature. I’ll show you.”

“I’m not going to help you. Do as you please.”

The elderly man left at 2:00.

On May 5th, the end of my part-time work drew near. A pleasant customer came at noon.

“I came back.”

Nao smiled like a goddess, blowing away my fatigue. The old man sat as always by the window, looking out, with a cold latte. Now that I thought of it, I’d never seen him order drip coffee.

“Hey, Suzaku-kun, I’ve been thinking a little…”

“That man isn’t on a diet.”

She burst out in laughter, then reined in her voice, “Yeah, not about that. What I was thinking was, couldn’t he be a detective?”

“Detective?”

I stood in the grey sunlight that slanted into the shop, and looked at the unchanging face of the elderly man. Despite being lunch, because of the rain, there weren’t many customers.

Nao floated her ideas, “Maybe that florist, or some other shop over there, is something that elderly detective is staking out. Wouldn’t that also explain how he looks?”

“Why would he limit his hours?”

“Isn’t that because the criminal is relaxing in a shop across the way? That old man might not choose his own times to come, but the criminal goes to the other shop from 11:00 to 2:00. Naturally, that’d mean he’d have to come then, too.”

I could see that.

“I see, that’d explain why he only orders one coffee, for sure. He’d stake-out the criminal here, and have to leave right away to tail him. He certainly wouldn’t be able to calmly eat in that scenario. There’s no mistaking it. You’ve done it, Iidsan.”

“Ehehe…”

“I’ll treat you to something as thanks. What’ll it be?”

“Thanks. Then, I’ll have a cafe au lait.”

While Nao and I were talking in hushed tones…

“Thief!” a shrill voice cried outside.

Everyone inside the shop seemed to freeze for an instant, when, “I’ll be right back!”

The old man stood with a shout and flew out the door with surprising speed. After a little hesitation on my end, I looked at the manager, and then proceeded to rush after the elderly man through the door. By that time, the thief —a purse snatcher— had already been caught by the elderly man, but the difference in strength was too much, and the older gentleman’s hands were slipping. He fell over, twisted onto his side, and wrenched himself free. I flew toward him in a rugby tackle, skillfully wrapping both arms around his hips, gritting my teeth, and desperately clinging to the thief. The one I was tackling was a man around age 30 with a good physique in a white tracksuit who was clutching a woman’s purse —a brand name one at that— in a vice grip. He tried to shake me off like a wild animal, but using the grappling skills I had learned from TV, I lifted him up, swept his legs, and brought him down. Once he was on the ground, gaining total control was easy. I received help from the old man as the thief struggled, flailing his arms and legs as he lay face down as I pressed him down with my hips.

All three of us were breathing raggedly and sweating. The light rain was cool and refreshing. A woman in her 50s came running over without even opening her umbrella.

“Aaah, my bag!”

“So it was your bag, Mam?” the old man smiled.

She bowed over and over again, breathing heavily, an obsequious person.

“Thank you so much. Thank you so much.”

“Now… the police. Can you dial 110?” urged the elderly man.

I couldn’t believe my ears, and found myself asking, “Wait, you aren’t the police?”

“What?” after blinking for a while, he eventually summoned a response, “I used to be with the 1st division of the prefectural police department. I had to retire due to my age about six years ago, and have been living a dignified and leisurely life ever since. What did you think I was doing?”

I bet I looked like an absolute retard.

“No, it’s just… I thought you might be a detective who’s always on stakeout in our shop…”

“Hahaha…” the man was smiling, “I might have when I was on duty, but I’m not allowed to assist in stakeouts now. You work for the Chapeau, don’t you? Did you always think that?”

My ears went red, and the elderly man showed some concern, “My name is Mitsui Kinya, just an old man whose hobbies include nothing more than bonsai trees. You must be curious about my strange habits in your store, right? The reason for that is…” he hesitated, “Actually, let’s just leave it as a personal secret. Please let me do that much. It’s a selfish matter, after all.”

That was when a patrolman came running in.

I stood under an umbrella while the police conducted their on-site-investigation, and gave the details of everything I’d seen. Mr. Mitsui and the woman were too. The thief was handcuffed, put into the patrol car, and taken to the station. The case was closed.

“That was a big catch.”

When I got back to the cafe, Nao asked enthusiastic questions. An attempted crime had occurred and been stopped right before their eyes, and I had thought that the shop would be empty, but the place was totally full. Sakura patted my shoulder.

“It was a good show. Thanks to that, we got a load of customers looking for box seats. Good work, boy.”

I remained humble, “It wasn’t anything so great. Mr. Mitsui is?”

“Mitsui?”

“The older gentleman who orders a latte. I got his name when we tackled that guy.”

“Ah, so he’s Mr. Mitsui, then. He got back earlier. See the usual spot.”

Having been heard out before me, he had come back and was sat in his usual place, gazing at the rainy world. He left like clockwork when 2:00pm rolled around.

Just what was he doing there?

“Which is to say that I still don’t know. If he isn’t on a stakeout, just what is he doing? I haven’t a clue,” I vented to Junka over the phone.

I had two more days of work, and at the current rate, it would leave the case unsolved.

Junka groaned, “Haaah, so he didn’t tell you when you asked.”

“Yeah, I have to put up my hands. You won’t help, so I’ll just have to give up.”

“No,” it sounded like Junka sat up straight, “If Mr. Mitsui won’t answer, that means it’s my turn.”

Translator's Note:

Rouji's either super gullible, or Nao's got his number. I still don't trust her.

Editor’s Note:

Next up: I fell in love with a thief I tackled to the ground!

Chapter end