Locked Room Murder

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"H-hey? Did I heard that wrong? Someone died?"

"I think someone was murdered. Hey Mori, what do you think happened?" The two chefs that works with me asked.

"Hmm... I see they opened the door lock. Must be a locked room murder. If I recall, that room belongs to a jeweller from London. If so, then wouldn't the probability of thievery is higher? If murder occurs to a jeweller, I have two possibilities in mind. Either target elimination due to competitive market sales or the robbery attempt has gone too far." I explain in a less suspicious way by adding other possibility which I knew wasn't related to this case.

"S-such a thing... B-but... Doesn't that mean the murderer is still on board?!!" One of them suddenly gets the grasp of the situation.

"Bingo. You're sharp. You'll be mistaken as a police at some point."

"Haha Mori, I appreciate your effort trying to light up the mood. For now, we better be careful. I'll go to the kitchen. From what I know, us chefs are not the murderer. We didn't step out of our workplace, well, except you. But we both watched you from behind and you didn't event went near that suite. We'll be your witnesses."

"The order must have stopped. Who wants to eat when a murder occurred? Aaaaah... finally, breaktime!" One of them said.

"Hey! Keep your voice low! What if your words cause them to suspect you?"

"Yeah yeah." The two of them went to the kitchen, leaving me behind.

The train just passed through Doncaster. The next town is Grantham, about 80km away. The train was set to 100km/h speed. Which means... we will arrive in 48 minutes.

 we will arrive in 48 minutes

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[Proof of equation. It's actually super easy to do even without a calculator]


"Excuse me, Mori Hadrian." Someone's calling me by my name huh. A chef don't have name tags. The uniform is also borrowed one, so the only possibility is he is someone I've met. His manner of speech starts with 'excuse me' so there's no way in hell that's Sherlock. It must be HIM.

"Mr. Moriarty. You have something to ask?"

"Yes, quite a few actually. I figure it is best to approach you first. Why don't we go and sit over there?"

"...sure." Running is not an option. It is better to sit and talk things out. I have nowhere to run anyway. I'm in a train, a moving train. Surviving after jumping off the train is a lie the directors used to make their movies cooler. That is one of the things sensei had taught me.

As we sat down, he began talking. "How long have you been working here?"

"Just started today as a part time job."

"You said you're a chef. But they ran out of waiter staffs so they gave you a spare uniform. Correct?"

"True. Waiters and chefs are a special case because we're dealing with foods. Other than those, they don't bring spare clothes."

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