The Swindler, the Vanishing Man, and the Pretty Boys

3. Councilman, Bossman, and Bare-Legs

“Right?” I was relieved to have finally been able to share my troubles with someone, but apparently my relief was premature.

Well, “premature” might be an overstatement, but while I was mostly worried about what to do about the hundred thousand yen, the three of them seemed more perplexed by the man who had disappeared so suddenly down that long, straight road.

“A person who vanishes into thin air… That’s just the kind of enigma our leader is so fond of. Perhaps we should try our hand at solving this little mystery.”

“Can’t know till we ask him. Sometimes the president’s aesthetic sense is beyond me.”

“Sometimes? More like all the time. But I’ve gotta admit, I’m hooked. If this guy really did dash off after he turned that corner, I’ve got an urge to try my beautiful legs against his.”

…Well, either way, if they were all interested, I couldn’t ask for anything more─if they found Mr. Businessman for me, I’d be thrilled.

I might be ignoring the rules of the Pretty Boy Detective Club, but as long as I could return the hundred thousand yen, I wasn’t going to get hung up on beauty.

The fact is, they called themselves a detective club, but I wasn’t sure how good these Pretty Boy Detectives actually were at finding missing people─they couldn’t be planning to call up a helicopter like last time and search for him from the skies, could they?

“Can you describe the person who dropped the money?”

Whether he sensed my incessant fretting or not, Sakiguchi at least asked a reasonable question.

I answered haltingly─the events that followed my initial glimpse of Mr. Businessman had made such a strong impression that I wasn’t very confident in my description of him.

But after I finished, Sakiguchi remained silent.

“…”

And that wasn’t all.

“Hmm? Nagahiro, what’s wrong?” Mr. Bare-Legs asked, only to be shushed by the councilman.

What was going on? Why wouldn’t Sakiguchi even entertain his question? I glanced reflexively at the delinquent, but he was just sitting there looking grumpy.

“Uh, um…? Sakiguchi?”

“Ah, pardon me. It’s nothing.”

Judging by his overt reaction, it could hardly be nothing, but I didn’t feel up to pressing him after he had dismissed it in his perfect student council president speechifying voice.

Considering my position, what I really would have liked to ask was, “Do you know this man?” but…

“What we really must focus on now is what to do with the money.”

I couldn’t help being swept along by that oh-so-persuasive voice as it nudged the conversation in the very direction I wanted it to go; I’m just going to go ahead and say it─is it possible his vocal cords have the power to brainwash people?

When I considered the possibility that he may have stolen his fiancée’s heart in just such a way, I had an urge to bolt right then and there.

“If we’re going to approach the matter diligently, then I suppose the most appropriate thing would be to turn the cash over to the police. Even if we never find the man, or if we do find him but he refuses to take the money back, we can at least entrust the money to their keeping.”

“I hate the police…”

Hyota the Adonis quietly shook his head.

The solemn, gloomy look on his face was hardly fitting for the boy they called an angel-among-men─did this kid have a bad history with the cops or something? Given his heroic experience of being kidnapped on three separate occasions, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything he told me at this point.

“Leaving aside what happened last time,” the delinquent chimed in, “a bunch of guys who call ourselves detectives letting the police take care of us at the drop of a hat sure as hell isn’t going to do much for our reputation.”

In fact, Fukuroi had old acquaintances in the police department (though according to him, they were more unsavory-but-inescapable connections from his delinquent days than “acquaintances”─see the previous case file to find out “what happened last time”), so calling them in would’ve been easy enough if we’d wanted to, but apparently he had enough backbone to nix the idea of actually doing it.

Or maybe he was just being considerate toward a younger club member who hated the police.

Whatever his motivation, when the delinquent talked about someone “taking care” of you, it took on a whole different meaning.

“It’s also true that even if we did take the money to a police box, I doubt they would believe a preposterous tale about a businessman dropping a million yen. They might even think we were mocking them, and give us a good tongue-lashing.”

“If that was all they did, we’d be getting off easy…”

Mr. Bare-Legs’ bare legs were shaking like leaves.

Honestly, what happened to him?

“Which means our only option is to find this man ourselves. If he appeared to be commuting to work, then the standard approach would be to lie in wait for him in the same place at the same time tomorrow. Ms. Dojima, you said it happened on your way to school─have you encountered this businessman before, then?” Sakiguchi asked.

It was precisely the question I would have liked to ask him.

“No, this was the first time. But you’re right─if he was on his way to work, then he ought to be there at the same time every day…”

If we both kept a regular schedule, then it wouldn’t have been unusual for me to see him every day, yet I hadn’t seen him once in the entire year and a half or so since I’d started attending Yubiwa Academy.

Of course, it was possible that I simply hadn’t noticed him because up till now I had always been looking up at the sky while I walked…

“If he really was on his way to work, that is,” the delinquent interjected. “Any way you slice it, walking around with a million yen in your pocket is pretty fishy.”

It certainly is.

I’d thought the same thing myself─his gentlemanly demeanor afterward had muddled the impression somewhat, but my original questions about who exactly this guy was hadn’t exactly gone away.

It seemed best to tread carefully where he was concerned, whether we were returning the money or what.

The saying “wise men don’t court danger” darted through my mind─and I wondered if perhaps the best approach would be to simply pretend it had never happened.

But if that was to be my conclusion, I should have arrived at it before coming to the art room─because just then, the furthest person in the world from a “wise man” threw open the door I’d just closed, with force enough to nearly tear it from its hinges.

“Ah ha ha ha! Ahem! So you’re all here, lads! And shining beautifully, I see, as the esteemed rules of our club demand!”

Not a wise man but a pretty boy.

Manabu the Aesthete, lover of beauty and president of the Pretty Boy Detective Club─which is to say, Manabu Sotoin─had arrived.