[Toru Amuro] Those years when I worked at Poirot

I know that the moment after the bullet comes in is the best time to find the sniper and his location, but I just don't want to let go of him, I just can't live without his body temperature and weight, I just want him to guard in this protective posture I.

I guess he thinks I'm too troublesome, too fragile, and let him waste his best scouting opportunity.But he still didn't move and let me cling to him tightly, his two palms gently supported my shoulders and head, allowing me to burrow into his neck more comfortably and sob.

Is this the professional instinct of the police?Normally, I wouldn't dare to expect this kind of special treatment from him. In fact, when I think about it carefully, he always targets me a little bit. Although I don't ask me to do more work, the glances he sometimes glances at me are clearly scolding me. "Suspicious, clumsy, inexplicable".

His back is tight and smooth, without a trace of fat. I relaxed a little, and my fingers slid down to his shoulders and his tense arms. In stark contrast to his scorching body temperature, my body was as cold as a frozen fish.

I was really scared.

I treated him like a big warm baby, and hugged him for more than ten minutes before realizing that he was still a patient, so I quickly stopped sobbing and gently pushed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I was so rude. I forgot that you still have a fever." I wiped away my tears and sucked back the snot that was about to burst out. If the snot gets on his hair, he will see me later There must be a psychological shadow.

Propping himself on the floor with one arm, he lifted his body, his face hanging over my eyes, his expression calm.

It's a little too peaceful, it doesn't even look like him.

"Still scared?" he asked.The voice seemed to be soaked in warm water, with a sense of warmth.

I nodded and shook my head again.

He smiled reassuringly, grabbed my right hand, and pressed the center of the palm firmly with his thumb, which seemed light.

"This is the Laogong acupoint, which is very effective in relieving tension." His technique is sophisticated, and I don't know whether it is really effective or psychological. I feel a warm current rushing to my heart, and the heartbeat gradually becomes stronger. Repeat the same action on my palm, and soon, I regained the body temperature that a living person should have.

"Thanks...thanks. It feels like you know everything." He rolled over and sat on the ground, and I sat up slowly, staring at the cracks in the floor with a little embarrassment.

Fear gradually dissipated, followed by regret.I looked at the window, and there was a bullet hole on the tempered glass, and looking out, there was another apartment building of the same size more than 100 meters away. The murderer was probably shooting somewhere on the same level as my room. If I just Not that fragile, with his speed and insight, he will definitely find some clues.

"I'm sorry..." I muttered.In fact, thinking about it carefully, these two assassinations were all aimed at me. He could have avoided this muddy water, but the way he thought about it showed that he wanted to intervene.

Probably out of the detective's curiosity, or doubts about my identity.I can't think of any other reason.

Seeing that I had recovered to the point where I could stand up and look out the window, he began to devote himself to silent thinking.His eyes focused on a certain point at the door, and the subtle expression changes on his face marked the surge of thoughts.

Suddenly, he seemed to have thought of some important details, his back stiffened, and he turned his head to look at me steadily.

"What... what's wrong, Mr. Amuro?"

He stood up and walked towards me: "Can't you remember the reason for coming to Japan at all?"

"Sorry, I really can't remember." If I say that the dream I most hope to realize at this moment is to restore Erica's memory, so that at least I know who the person who has been plotting to kill me is.

"Yeah." He didn't doubt, or that my collapsed reaction after two brushes with death had been recognized by him as real and believable.

"I got a mission last night." He walked to the window and looked, raised his hand and pulled the curtains to block out the midday sun, "Gin asked me to kill a woman code-named Margaux. That woman I I have never seen her before, she is a master of disguise, she has been disfigured by bombs, and more importantly, she is a master of sniper with every shot."

I am stunned.

"You mean to say that she was the one who assassinated me today?"

Amuro nodded: "It's very possible. It's 12:30, the sun is shining outside, and there are many people moving downstairs. Only a master can hit the target without any deviation under the scorching sun without considering the external conditions. There are not many such people."

"Oh..." I felt a little proud.

"Gin said that Margaux is being tracked by the FBI. Imagine this possibility. You went to Japan precisely because of tracking Margaux, and you have already discovered something. Just when you were about to contact the headquarters, because of a certain The reason is amnesia. This reason may be related to her. Maybe she found you, or knew that you had obtained information that was extremely harmful to her. She must deal with you immediately. Maybe she has already done so, but it was unsuccessful. You have amnesia dead, but still alive."

"Wait, wait!" I said impatiently, "I, I have this suspicion too!"

I told him about the note I had found at home with Poirot's address on it, and told him that I thought I was applying for a job, which might not have been the case.

"Did you first meet me that afternoon? On my first day at work?" I asked.

He nodded: "That's right. I never saw you before that."

"Will you see and forget?"

He pouted unhappily: "You still have an impressive face, at least for me, if I see you, I won't forget it."

Why does this sound a bit weird, how did I impress him?Unfashionable bumbling?But I didn’t have time to decipher it in depth, so I continued eagerly: “Then why did I write down Poirot’s address on the note before I lost my memory? According to what you said, if I were the FBI investigating Margaux, then I might be Margaux was found near Poirot, and recorded?"

He suddenly said: "Yes, it should be like this." But then he frowned again: "But it doesn't make sense. Usually there are only Miss Enomoto and I in Poirot's shop. We must not be Ma. Song, then it was a certain guest that day, but how can you guarantee that she will patronize in the future? Unless—"

"She's a frequent visitor." I said in unison with him.

"You're not slow." He bent his lips, walked to the bed and put on his shirt.

My sweat-soaked clothes were already dry. Although I could no longer admire his well-proportioned body, at least my eyes could have more places to land, and I didn't have to dodge any more.

"Speaking of regular customers, Mr. Mori's family, Sonoko and Ms. Sera are definitely not there, and there seem to be quite a few others—" I filtered the people who had been here more than three times in my mind, and finally there were more than 20 people left .

As an old store that has been in business for more than five years, it is normal to have a bunch of regular customers.

"Add one more condition." He suddenly said, "Recently added regular customers. The purpose of Margaux coming to Poirot is probably to spy on me. She was given the right to investigate traitors, and she is pretending to be a regular customer to spy on me. At that time, it was broken by you unconsciously. If you consider this point, the scope can almost be locked on one person."

"Huh? You already have someone to choose?"

"Of course. Do you remember Mr. Heiner who came every afternoon?"

I jumped up like an electric shock, which startled him.

"I——suddenly remembered something." I smiled wryly, and once again felt ashamed of my slowness, "One afternoon, I was a little flustered because I was late, so I accidentally bumped into him, and then stepped on his foot , At that time, I felt a little strange. First of all, before I pushed him, he had already subtly dodged away, without even looking back, and grasped a distance that could not only be seen through, but also avoid harm And the angle. It was the same later, with quick movements and quick reactions, not like the skills of a 80-[-]-year-old old man."

"What you said is very reasonable. Also, Margaux was disfigured by the bomb and has a large area of ​​scars on her face. It would be quite difficult for her to transform into a delicate-skinned woman, but men are different, especially He is an old man with deep facial wrinkles."

"So, you also agree with my inference?"

"Almost. But—" he looked into my eyes and asked: "Why did you write it down on a note? Are you afraid that you will forget it? A young female detective must have a good memory, and Or if you discover such a big event as an important goal, even if you don’t write it down, you can’t forget it. Do you have any other purpose for this behavior?”

"?" I looked at him in shock.

"Or, are you worried that you will be in danger and leave this note for someone else—such as a colleague you can't remember?" He knocked on the headboard meaningfully, "Someone with your room The key, the person who can come in and out at any time?"