Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner-Chapter 819 - 496: The Mission of a Renowned Writer
Ishizuka Yoshio was bewildered.
Originally, he turned himself in, confessed voluntarily, and considering it was his first offense, he was sentenced to eight years in prison.
By now, he had been imprisoned for two years, behaved well, and had the opportunity to apply for parole, be released early, and restart his life.
Ishizuka Yoshio felt that he had atoned for his sins. He was Kawai’s accomplice, and deserved to be in jail; he had also come to terms with the past and had completely made peace with his daughter’s death in his heart.
Everything seemed to be developing in a positive direction.
When the prison guard informed him that a lawyer was visiting, Ishizuka Yoshio thought his parole was being expedited.
It wasn’t until he walked into the visiting room and saw two completely unfamiliar lawyers that his joy vanished, replaced by confusion.
"You are..."
Ishizuka Yoshio picked up the phone, his gaze resting on Mori Na’s small eyebrows.
Kensaka Takataro followed suit, picking up the phone, adopting a formal posture, claiming to be the lawyer for the Komura family— a name he had just fabricated—here to question Ishizuka Yoshio about the Heavenly Punishment serial murder case.
"The Komura family was annihilated, and the eight-year-old Renko also fell victim. The murderer left the words ’Heavenly Punishment’ at the scene... The grandparents wanted to seek justice for their son and granddaughter, so they commissioned me as their lawyer, asking me to bring them peace."
Kensaka Takataro took a photo from his briefcase and pressed it against the glass pane. It was from a previous case he handled, unrelated to the fabricated Komura House.
After briefly explaining the situation, he pressured Ishizuka Yoshio, "Do you have anything to say?"
Looking at the bodies scattered chaotically in the photo, Ishizuka Yoshio’s heartbeat quickened, and his palms began to sweat: "This, this has nothing to do with me..."
"The police did a handwriting identification, and it matches exactly with the ’Heavenly Punishment’ note from the auditorium shooting case." Kensaka Takataro put away the photo and continued to press: "No matter how you argue, you’ll ultimately face prosecution. At that time, your sentence might turn into life imprisonment..."
"Wait a minute! This is just too strange!"
Ishizuka Yoshio couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning forward, he anxiously defended himself: "I’ve been serving time in prison! How could I go out and commit a crime? You must have the wrong person!"
"The family annihilation case occurred before the auditorium shooting case. Mr. Komura and I spent three years visiting and examining countless files before finding you."
Kensaka Takataro clenched his left fist, really appearing to seek justice for the deceased, shouting into the phone: "Even if the adults made mistakes, the child is innocent! Why did you kill them? Why did you kill Nagono Kawai!"
"I didn’t kill them!" Ishizuka Yoshio shouted.
"Then who? Tell me, who did it!" Kensaka Takataro retorted.
Ishizuka Yoshio was stunned, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his throat moved slightly, wanting to speak but hesitating.
After a long pause, he said in a trembling voice: "I-I don’t know, I really don’t know about the family annihilation case... Nagono Kawai was killed by Instructor Sakurai, it has nothing to do with me..."
"Then who wrote the ’Heavenly Punishment’ blood letter?" Kensaka Takataro pressed.
"This... this... is not important..." Ishizuka Yoshio dared not meet the other’s eyes.
A vague answer lingered in his heart, but he dared not say it. If he did, all he had endured over the past three years would become a joke.
If the man who called him initially was actually a criminal, then his so-called redemption would be a joke.
He had not actually atoned for his mistakes but had become the accomplice of another vicious murderer, allowing that scoundrel to remain free.
"How can it not be important? You there, stop evading the issue!"
Kensaka Takataro scolded loudly, but it was of little use, because Ishizuka Yoshio had put down the phone and covered his face with his hands, remaining motionless in this position.
Kensaka Takataro was anxious, the visitation time was limited, and he only had this one opportunity. The prison could find out he was an impostor at any moment; a second visit would be risking too much, he would be 100% caught.
Moreover, after the visit ended, if Ishizuka Yoshio was not prosecuted, he would soon realize something was amiss. As long as he wasn’t a fool, he would realize he had been deceived.
On the surface, Kensaka Takataro seemed to be in control, but in reality, he was walking a tightrope.
What to do?
Kensaka Takataro wanted to knock on the window, to remind Ishizuka Yoshio not to escape reality any longer.
Mori Na gripped his wrist, softly saying: "Leave it to me."
Kensaka Takataro hesitated for a moment, then retracted his hand. Now the time was sufficient; pressing too hard wouldn’t be beneficial, maybe letting Mori Na play good cop could break through the suspect’s defense.
Mori Na picked up the phone and softly asked, "Mr. Ishizuka, can we talk?"
Ishizuka Yoshio did not respond. Mori Na waited patiently for a moment without urging him.
Kensaka Takataro, growing impatient, was about to pick up the phone again when Mori Na stopped him: "Give him a little time."
"Who will give us time?" Kensaka Takataro leaned in, whispered in Mori Na’s ear: "Don’t forget, we only have five days..."
"Haste makes waste." Mori Na was more patient, she wasn’t so concerned about the bonus.
With nothing left to say, Kensaka Takataro could only cross his arms, shaking his legs incessantly, glaring at Ishizuka Yoshio with a murderous gaze.
Judging from Ishizuka Yoshio’s reaction, he could conclude that the man knew the inside story of the auditorium shooting case.
The problem was, being in prison, separated by glass, how to pry open Ishizuka Yoshio’s mouth?
Kensaka Takataro also excelled at coercive interrogation, something that with a few tries, anyone could master; even if one strikes the wrong person, one could accumulate experience.
