Disclaimer: It is quite impossible for anyone to think I am using the characters of Detective Conan (Case Closed) and Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century for anything other than entertainment.

< >: Thoughts

Chapter 4

One Truth Finally Prevailed

In his office and apartment, Sherlock Holmes nodded, as he watched an enhanced view of the murder case that Richard Moore had supposedly solved at the local television studio. As he zoomed in on certain scenes, he smiled as his hypothesis over the true reason behind Moore’s ‘genius’ was vindicated.

<As I suspected. That would be the only logical method, in which ‘Conan’ could have made Moore seem brilliant. I am quite impressed that he has been able to deceive Moore for so long. Then again, considering that Moore is quite eager to soak up whatever fame and glory that he can get, however undeserving he is of such, it should come as to no surprise.>

At that point, he stopped the recording and glanced down at the newspaper articles, which described a recent string of crimes that had been solved without Richard Moore being mentioned. This time however, the criminals either admitted to their misdeeds freely, or make some small mention of a child involved. This got Sherlock to thinking more about a certain youth with ‘keen eye for detail.’ (1)

<It seems that the little detective is starting to let his deductions speak for themselves. I certainly cannot let such fine potential go to waste. Hmmm, perhaps it is time for me to get involved, ‘Conan Edogawa.’>


Sherlock smiled as his robotic friend entered the office. “Ah Watson. I think it is time for us to pay another visit to the good Dr. Agasa. He told me that he had contacted some friends of his and a way to return us home may just be possible.”

“I most certainly hope so.” Watson said, though he was uneasy around Dr. Agasa and that probe of his. “It is most difficult to obtain decent spare parts and maintain myself in proper working order in this primitive society. I have been making several modifications to my systems in order to adapt to the less-than-adequate technology of this era.”

“I too share your desire to return to 221B Baker Street in our own world. However, our stay in this reality has yielded a most fascinating mystery, and I hope to devise a solution to a crime most unjust.”

“A crime most unjust? Whatever do you mean? Is it a kidnapping, blackmail or even foul murder?”

“None of the above, my dear Watson. This crime is a kind of theft and fraud, but it is not violating any laws other than that of decency, and it concerns our young and promising detective, Conan Edogawa.”

“Theft? Fraud? Whatever do you mean? What was the sham? What was stolen?”

“The right to claim one’s own hard-earned work, (though I suspect that he has his reasons for making that dunce Moore look good). And I shall see to it that things will be set right. Now come Watson. Before we go to the good inventor’s laboratory, I wish to make a brief stop for a gift.”

“A gift?”

“Indeed. I believe in rewarding such excellence in the field of criminology. Oh and by the way, did you complete the task that I had given to you some time ago?”

“I have.”

“Excellent! You may tell me all about the results on the way. Now, come!”


In the laboratory of Dr. Agasa, Conan continued to gaze upon the instrument in his hands. He couldn’t believe that he was actually holding the magnifying glass of Sherlock Holmes! The finely-ground lens seemed to speak out to him of the countless mysteries that it had seen and the clues it had revealed.

It had been two weeks since they had both solved the murder at the local diner, and since that realization that his storybook hero was the real thing, the young detective could think of nothing else. Then he remembered what the great sleuth had said to him at the end of that case.



Sherlock: “Though you already know what that’s like. Richard Moore needed a lot of guidance, now didn’t he?”


End of Flashback

<I’m not sure how he managed to figure out that I was the one guiding Richard Moore. He really is the world’s greatest detective if he was able to deduce that I was the one who solved those crimes. And if that’s true... what’s to stop him from figuring out that I’m Jimmy Kudo, if he hasn’t already?>

“Jimmy, all you all right?”

Conan came back to reality as he looked up to Dr. Agasa, and sighed. “I’m okay, Dr. Agasa. I was just thinking about a few things.”

“Judging by the way you were staring at that magnifying glass, I can guess just what or rather who you were thinking about.”

“Heh. Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I’m no detective, but even I can see the clues in your expression. I can certainly understand how you feel. I was very impressed when you told me about how you and Sherlock solved that case at the diner together.”

Conan smiled as he remembered the case that he and the legendary detective had solved together. “It was great. He actually let me let be a part of the investigation in front of everybody, even encouraging me. Normally, people wouldn’t take a kid seriously. Usually I’d get bopped on the head or Richard would give me a double-noogie and scold me for getting in the way of ‘his’ investigation. For the first time in a really long while, someone important listened to me, and treated me like a detective... not like a kid.”

“As well you should be.”

Both Conan and Agasa turned to see Sherlock and Watson standing at the front door that was open, giving them a clear view of the lab down the hallway.

“Pardon us for the intrusion, my friends.” Sherlock apologized. “May we come in? We have some important things to discuss.”

“Ah! Yes, of course!” Dr. Agasa said as he came to the front door and greeted his visitors. He gave Watson a slightly longing expression before inviting the two inside. “I had been expecting for the two of you to come calling after I had left that message on your answering machine. I just got in contact with an old college friend of mine, and he happens to be close in making a breakthrough in quantum-dimensional transference.”

“That sounds exactly what we may need to return to our own home.” Watson stated.

“It does sound promising.” Sherlock agreed as he and his associated were invited for some tea.



As Sherlock sipped from his cup of oolong, he would occasionally glance at Conan and smile as the boy shyly tried not to make eye contact with him. Most of the time, Conan would focus on the magnifying glass that he had placed on the dining table. As Dr. Agasa and Watson were discussing various scientific theories and such, the great detective decided that now was the time to finally get things out into the open.

Setting down his teacup, Sherlock reached over and picked up his magnifying glass. He studied the curvature of the lens and noted that it had recently been polished. He smiled as he addressed the younger sleuth. “I must thank you for taking good care of one of my most prized possessions Conan.”

“Ah, sure... no problem...” Conan replied with a bit of sadness in his eyes. “So... I guess you’ll be wanting it back?”

Sherlock continued to smile warmly at the youth. “Well, yes I do. This glass has not only been instrumental in my work, but it also holds great sentimental value. It is one of the very few things that I have been able to retain since my... shall we say heyday? In addition to Watson’s journals, this magnifying glass had been kept by the Lastrade family for generations, until my return, so to speak.”


“I can see that you’ve become quite attached to it. Not at all surprising, since a detective is only half-complete without the tools of his trade. And I see no reason why a fine detective such as yourself should be without his own.” With those words, Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another magnifying glass. This one had a polished, blue-dyed, pearl handle and the lens was so smooth, that it seemed as if it had been cut from a diamond.

Conan nearly drooled. He had seen that instrument at the department store. He had often stood in front the display case and stare at it for long periods of time. It had been imported from Europe and the crystal lens had been ground and polished by Swiss watch-makers. Every detail it magnified would be absolutely clear. It was expensive, but was durable and well worth the price.

Conan had often dreamed of owning such an instrument, but knew that it was beyond his reach. With the pitiful allowance that was given to him by Richard Moore, (and very reluctantly given), he couldn’t hope to save enough to buy it in a hundred years. He also couldn’t access his bank account that had been set up for him by his parents, since it was under the name of Jimmy Kudo. Since his encounter with the Black Organization, the balance had not been touched since it would be too difficult to explain how Conan Edogawa knew Jimmy Kudo’s PIN number.

“W-W-What’s that for?” Conan asked hesitantly.

Sherlock smiled as he placed the instrument in front of the boy. “What else is it for, but to aid a ‘keen eye’ for detail?”

The younger detective’s heart almost stopped as he reached out with a trembling hand. He tentatively picked up the magnifying glass and gazed at it with wide eyes. He then found his voice and said...

“It’s mine?”

The sleuth from the 19th and 22nd Century nodded. “I should think so. I did pay extra to have your initials engraved into the handle.”

Conan looked down at the handle of the magnifying glass and sure enough, there were two gold letters in English... J and K. Using his own knowledge of the language, he looked up at his idol and shook his head. “These aren’t my initials.”

“Oh yes there are... Jimmy Kudo.”

At that point, the young boy nearly had a heart attack. He nearly dropped his new magnifying glass. His fears and suspicions about Sherlock knowing about his secret were confirmed from that one simple statement. Dr. Agasa was also in a state of shock after hearing the detective correctly deduce Kudo’s secret.

Sherlock smiled slightly, but remained serious as he revealed how he came to his conclusions. “I will take the expressions on your faces as further proof to my deductions. Please do not attempt to deny your own self, Jimmy. I am quite certain that you are secretly aiding Richard Moore with his investigations for a good reason, and I am willing to wager that it is due to your current condition. After all, one does not suddenly regress in age from a sophomore to a second grader by natural means. Now then, will you attempt to dissuade me about your true identity? ”

For a long while, Conan was silent, as he considered all of his options. He knew that Sherlock would probably not be deceived by any schemes to convince him that Conan wasn’t Jimmy, and the legendary detective would most likely have all the evidence he needed to prove his deductions. And as he thought about it, Conan didn’t really see the harm of having his hero know about the truth. Sherlock had already shown that he was more concerned with Conan the detective, rather than Conan the child. Finally, he let off a quiet sigh and replied.

“So how did you know?”

Holmes smiled warmly and nodded. He pointed with his right index finger to his eyes then to his temple. “Elementary my dear Conan. Careful observation and deduction. I used my eyes and brain. And as you know, once you have eliminated the impossible...”

“... whatever remains, no matter how improbable it may seem, must be the truth.” Conan finished. He then gave his idol a small smile. “So, when and how did you know? I didn’t think anyone could find out my secret and believe that Jimmy Kudo was trapped in the body of a kid.”

“Ah, but you are forgetting that Watson and I hail from the 22nd Century. We have witnessed and experienced many technological and scientific wonders, in which Watson happens to be one of them.”

“Thank you, Holmes.”

Sherlock nodded to his associate and continued. “It is not beyond the realm of possibilities for a process, in which one regresses back to one’s childhood. With that in mind, I began to investigate very curious instances, in which a formally mediocre detective began to solve very intricate and complex cases, comparable to the ones that I frequently encounter. Furthermore, I found a common link between the disappearance of the very talented Jimmy Kudo and the appearance of the equally talented Conan Edogawa, in the company of Richard Moore. In EVERY case that he had supposedly solved, YOU were always present. Now before you can say that it could all be coincidence, you should know that I rarely ever consider the possibility of coincidence. In the few interviews that Moore had participated in, he had admitted to not recalling the cases he had solved. Furthermore, there have been instances in which Moore had jumped to snap judgments and accusations, without having the proper evidence, only to suddenly turn around and solve the cases in very fine detail. Not exactly a trait for a proper detective. However, the most compelling evidence was his recent appearance on a television mystery show. Watson?”

The compu-droid nodded as he removed his left false glove and activated the holo-projector on the back of his hand. Very detailed, three-dimensional images appeared, causing Dr. Agasa and Conan to stare in disbelief. Scenes were enhanced and magnified as Sherlock explained each point in his investigation. One scene in particular was paused.

“As one can plainly see, Moore is not even conscious, let alone capable of explaining the intricacies of this murder.” <And personally, I am not very confident that he could explain it, even if he were conscious.> Holmes added mentally. “Please note that he is a state that is similar to non-REM sleep, which I can postulate that he was forcibly put into via drugs or some other artificial means. Considering that you, Conan, were the only other person present in that control room, during the time of the broadcast, I can safely deduce that YOU were the one that knocked him out. Since he had no reported head injuries and such, I can believe that you had accomplished this feat by means of a sedative. And I am willing to wager that Dr. Agasa had given you the means, in which you had pulled off this ingenious ruse. After all, a solar-powered skateboard and a pair of strength-enhancing sneakers can’t be all that you received from the good professor. Am I correct?”

Conan blushed slightly as he gazed very slightly at his hands and his wristwatch. Sherlock caught the eye movement and reached out with his right hand to grasp gently at the boy’s left wrist. “Ah, very clever. A projectile-type device would be the most logical and efficient means of delivering the sedative. Hmmm, let me see. If I were Agasa, I would conceal the device by utilizing the components of the watch in order to aim and fire the projectile. The glass face would make a good aiming sight for short range, and using the buttons that set the time and date, it would be a simple matter to make them into the trigger and activator. All I would need is to press the buttons in the right sequence...”

Sherlock used a combination of slight presses in a numerical order, and sure enough, the watch face popped up and the firing pin was ready to be pressed.

“As I suspected. The projectile would cause a momentary sting as it hits its target and delivers the sedative. Moore would probably think that he was bitten by a mosquito before losing consciousness. Then you would go to work.” He released his grip on the boy’s wrist.

Conan gulped hard as he deactivated the watch-firing mechanism. With almost lazy ease, Sherlock was unraveling his method of solving cases and making Moore look good. Now he knew how the criminals felt whenever their best-laid plans were uncovered by him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel in awe by the skills of Holmes. The novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle didn’t even begin to describe the detective’s abilities as Holmes continued.

“Now then, even though Moore would be totally incapable of speech after being sedated, you still had a means in which to have Moore explain the crime and ferret out the villain. Watson, would you please continue with the projection?”

“Of course.” Watson replayed another series of scenes, then stops when an image of Conan leaning over the windowsill and pointing the toy gun downward. The projection is enhanced and shows Conan holding his bowtie near his mouth.

Sherlock gave the youth a knowing smile as he asked in a playful, teasing tone, “Why are holding your bowtie to your mouth, young man?”

Conan gulped even harder and laughed nervously. “Ah... it was on too tight?”

Sherlock chuckled at the youngster’s attempt at humor, and went on with his explanations. “I had Watson do a voice-analysis of the broadcast and he discovered that the voice of Richard Moore was being artificially reproduced. Furthermore, it was being projected BEHIND him, after he was knocked out. And exactly WHO was behind him during that time?”

“Ah.. heh-heh...”

“I thought so. I am willing to wager that your bowtie contains some sort of voice-emulator. It allows you to record other voices and lets you duplicate them. As long as you kept out of sight, (which is normally not a problem, since most people would generally disregard a small child), no one would suspect that it was you, and not Moore who solved the crimes. Am I correct?”

“Heh... I guess it would be pretty useless to deny it now. Wow, you really are the world’s greatest detective!”

“Well, I would like to say that I’m simply very observant and possess a ‘keen eye for detail’ as you would put it. I was also very impressed by your exploits, both as Jimmy Kudo and Conan Edogawa. A while after Yvonne Marks’ murder, I made investigative trips to Jimmy Kudo’s home and the diner.”


Sherlock then took out two small handkerchiefs and laid them on the table. “I did so to validate my hypothesis of your identity. I used one of these to collect DNA samples in several areas of Jimmy Kudo’s home. The other I used to wipe the top of the stall where you had grabbed during the murder. I then asked Watson to do a DNA comparison. And he found TWO identical DNA patterns.” He then held out right his hand to the compu-droid. “Watson, I believe that I have a few of Young Conan’s skin cells and such on my hand. Would you please do a DNA scan?”

“Certainly.” Watson extended his left hand out and scanned Holmes’ palm. “I detect your DNA of course, but as to the foreign skin cells, I presume they belong to our young sleuth. My word! His DNA matches exactly to the two sets that I had discovered before! Despite his apparent age, his genetic code is an exact copy, right down the amino acid sequences and protein patterns. And that can only mean one thing...”

“Indeed.” Sherlock turned back to Conan and gave him a warm smile of triumph. “And that is irrefutable proof that you are Jimmy Kudo. And so, the improbable is now altogether possible.”

At this point, Conan let off a low whistle of appreciation and acknowledged that the man before him was without a doubt... Sherlock Holmes.

Now the big question was... what now?



 “So that’s the whole story.” Conan said as he finished with his explanations. “I’ve been helping out Moore, so I could try to find a lead to those people who poisoned me and turned me into a kid.”

“And how has your investigation been going so far?” Sherlock inquired.

The former teen detective sighed sadly as he responded. “Moore’s business has gone up 100% since I started living with him and Rachael, and I’m no closer now than I was when I began. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m ever going to find them and get my real body back.”

“I can understand your frustration, though I must say that this is a sinful waste of your talents.” Sherlock said as he took another sip of tea. “Furthermore, though I can understand your motives in making that buffoon Moore look good, this ongoing deception is not at all productive and you are placing him and his daughter in more potential danger if you continue.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“The more that Richard Moore believes in his so-called genius, the more he is going take unnecessary risks and become overconfident. This will not only endanger himself, but also Rachael. Did you ever consider that possibility?”

“Well...” Conan remembered back to when that assassin almost killed Richard, The criminal who had hired her believed that Moore was the one who had caught him, when it was actually Conan who had found him out. (2)

“Sooner or later, Moore will get involved in a case that is FAR beyond his capabilities and you may not be there to help him. And who’s to say that he won’t eventually figure out what is going on?”

Conan couldn’t argue with that. On a few occasions, Moore had gotten suspicious over how he solved those cases, and couldn’t remember how. Even idiots could have flashes of genius at certain times. Still, he couldn’t see any other option that he could take, given his present condition. No one ever took a kid detective seriously and using Moore as a front was the only way he could use his sleuthing skills to find who had poisoned him. Then, Sherlock gave him another option.

“Jimmy, I cannot sit idly by and let such potential be wasted. Therefore, I would like take you on... as my protégé.”


“You have the all the makings of a great detective and I for one, would like to see that potential develop. You would be a part of my investigations and I will also aid you in your quest to regain your true form. One should never let something as trivial as appearances and seeming age, get in the way of true genius. I shall endeavor to teach you all that I know and perhaps, I can learn a few things from you. You, myself, and Watson, we would make quite a team, wouldn’t you say?”

Conan was in a state of shock over this sudden offer and was totally speechless. This was a chance of a lifetime, to actually work with his hero.

And yet, he hesitated. Agreeing to work with Sherlock and Watson would mean that he would have to leave Richard... and Rachael. He would no longer be a part of their lives. Without him, Richard would most likely lose his reputation as a great detective and be reduced back down to what he was before. The Moore family would suffer hard times without the increased income. Furthermore, if Conan were to take up Holmes’ offer and help him solve cases, then he would be exposing his abilities to others and perhaps attract the attention of whoever had poisoned him. Then again, so far his current investigations had turned up nothing, so perhaps with Holmes‘ help, he may be able to find the ones who had de-aged him.

Sherlock noted the boy’s hesitation and nodded. “You do not have to decide right away Jimmy. Take your time and think it over. Remember that there is no expiration date to my offer and it will always be open to you.”



The next day...

Conan sighed as he stood in the lobby of a hotel at the crime scene of a murder and watched Moore and McGuire look over the body of some poor man, who had been seemingly been a victim of a botched burglary and had been found dead in the elevator. A list of suspects had been gathered, which included the victim’s cousin, the bellhop, the maid and the hotel owner.

Already, the youth had picked up on several clues that both men had missed and wondered just how long it would take for Moore to realize those hints.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to see this was an obvious mugging that went bad.” Moore declared as the body was being taken away to be examined at the police morgue.

Conan then walked up to where the body had been and pointed out the position of the chalk mark. “Don’t you think that it’s kind of odd that the body was found face-down? I mean, if the person had been stabbed when he was just getting out of the elevator, then wouldn’t he have landed on his back and... erk!”

Moore became furious as he grabbed Conan by the collar and hoisted him up, nearly strangling him in the process.

“You little brat! Didn’t I tell you to stay out of my way?”

“But I was just trying to...”

“Why don’t you keep out of this and let a real detective solve this? A kid like you couldn‘t even begin to solve a case like this without my kind of deductive ability!” Moore said as he practically tossed Conan to the side.

Conan stumbled backward and landed hard on his rear. As he winced in pain, he glared up at the jerk and became very angry. Normally, he would have just let this kind of thing go, but now, he was beginning to get fed up. He was just trying to help and Richard was too full of himself to even listen. Conan began to think that Holmes was right and that Moore was now getting too arrogant over his supposed ‘detective genius.’ A real detective, yeah right!

“Are you all right, Conan?” Rachael asked as she held out a hand to help him up.

Conan nodded as he was aided back to his feet and continue to glare at Moore. He had already deduced who was the murderer, but if Moore continued to be pig-headed, then the killer would get away. He was about to think of a way to get him and Moore alone so he could drug him and then use his bowtie to fake Moore’s voice, when a certain someone arrived on the scene.

“Greetings everyone. I trust that I am not too late to lend a hand in this investigation?”

Everyone looked over their shoulder to see Sherlock and Watson walk toward them.

“Who the Hell are you?” Moore demanded.

The legendary sleuth nodded to him while gesturing to Watson. “I am Sherlock Holmes and this my associate, Dr. Watson.”

Racael’s father gave Sherlock a look of contempt. “Oh, so you’re the nutcase who thinks he’s some kind of storybook super-detective. Well, this is MY case, and I’ll solve this one with my superior intellect!”

“Yes, I have already witnessed your methods so far, and I fail to see why you would toss a young lad so roughly, especially when he’s made a valid observation. It must be a new type of detective work, ignoring a vital clue.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“I am talking about the fact that this crime, was not a case of simple robbery, but of a planned homicide. Young Conan was correct.” Sherlock then pointed to the elevator. “The victim was found facedown, in the elevator. Judging by the blood splatter on the floor in the center of the chalk outline, he had received a stab wound in the chest. Now, if the victim had been stabbed as he got out of the elevator, he would have fallen backward and landed on his back. The blood would have splattered around the area of where he had fallen, but not on the floor of elevator beneath his back. Now we can eliminate the assumption that the victim was killed when getting out of the elevator.” He then knelt down toward Conan and addressed him in a warm and encouraging tone. “Since you were here before me, you probably noticed a few other details. Please tell me now.”

Conan felt uneasy telling others of what he saw, especially with Richard now glaring down at him. However, he still felt angry at Richard for treating him so badly and decided that this time, he was NOT going to let him have the glory for this. He took a deep breath and said...

“Well, I also smelled a bit of disinfectant on the body and the suit had chemical stains on the back. The only place you could have found that would have been on the top floor of this hotel where the maid was cleaning up all the restrooms.”

“Excellent my boy! And that would therefore place the murder on the top floor, and NOT the elevator. So it stands to reason that the murderer had killed the victim in one of the restrooms and then had the body placed in the elevator afterwards, to make it look as if he had died there as a result of a mugging. However, since the body was facedown and had disinfectant on him, then that hypothesis is hereby invalid. You have eliminated the impossible. Well done!”

McGuire turned to face Moore and asked. “That makes an awful lot of sense. So why didn’t you pick up on that?”

Moore became a bit flustered as he tried to save himself. “Well, I would have seen it... eventually and... HEY! Where do you think you two are going?!”

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and replied as he followed Watson and Conan toward the other elevator. “We are simply going up to the tenth floor, since it would be the most logical place to continue this investigation. I’m certain that a ‘brilliant detective with the superior intellect’ would have come to the same conclusion. I would also suggest that none of the suspects be allowed to leave until the killer has been located.”

“Why you...!”

“Ease off, Moore.” McGuire said. “Holmes does have a point and so far, he and Conan seem to be the only ones who have any idea of tracking down the killer.”

“So you’re just going to listen to some nut and a kid?!”

“I wouldn’t dismiss Holmes so easily. I’ve seen him in action and he’s good, incredibly good. He could give Jimmy Kudo a run for his money. I don’t know why he’s going by the name of some fictional character, but he definitely got the goods as a detective. And I think Conan may have noticed some stuff that we have missed. I don’t see any harm in letting him show us what he’s seen. Now come on.”

Richard could only growl as he and Rachael followed the great detective and his protégé into the elevator.


That afternoon...

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!” Richard shouted as he, Rachael and Conan returned to their apartment.

Rachael tried to calm her father down as he stomped into the kitchen and took out a beer from the fridge. “Dad, it’s all right. I mean, you did try your best and...”

Moore made no indication of even hearing her as he continued on his tirade. It was bad enough when Jimmy Kudo was around, but now this nutcase Holmes was showing him up in front of Inspector McGuire! In less than 15 minutes, Sherlock had correctly pinpointed the murderer, (which was the maid), and also determined the motive, (she was an assassin hired by a rival company). He made him look like an absolute idiot. Every time Moore declared that he had solved the case, Sherlock would easily disprove each of his theories by using Conan’s observations. And when he said that phrase...



Sherlock: When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable it may seem, must be the truth!


End of flashback...

“Holmes thinks he SO smart! So he made a few lucky guesses!”

“Actually, he didn’t guess anything.” Conan pointed out. :”He just looked at all the clues and...”

“Don’t you start, you little brat!” Richard snarled. “I thought I told you to keep your nose out of my business! Why didn’t you keep your mouth shut?”

“If I did that, then the murderer would have gotten away!” Conan shot back as his own temper had begun to rise. All he did was the right thing and Richard was talking down to him as if HE had committed the crime. “I wanted to tell you and...”

“Oh shut up! It was bad enough that loon Sherlock showed up, but then YOU had to suck up to him, you little traitor!”

“I wasn’t sucking up to anyone!” Conan cried out as he began to lose patience with Richard. He just about had it with this egotistical jerk! “Mr. Holmes asked me of what I saw, and I TOLD him! It’s not MY fault that you didn’t want to listen, and it‘s not my fault that he solved the case with no problems, while you were still scratching your head!”

“Why you little, snot-nosed brat! We took you in, gave you a place to stay, fed you, and this is the thanks we get?! That’s it! GET OUT OF HERE!”

This put Rachael in a state of shock as she had never seen her father so mad or cold-hearted. It was clear to her that he was only speaking out of wounded pride and anger. What was even more surprising was that Conan was behaving not like a small child, but actually more like an older, more experienced individual. He wasn’t shrinking away from her father’s rage, but was actually standing up to him.

Conan glared at Richard for a long time, and shed not even a single tear as his mouth became a firm, straight line. Finally, he replied in a cold tone. “Fine! Let’s just see how good a detective you really are, without someone else doing all the work! Solve your own cases!” With those words, the young sleuth walked off to pack his things.

Rachael could only watch helplessly as her father stomped out of the apartment and Conan began taking out his suitcase to gather his belongings. She was rendered speechless as she watched the Moore household break apart. However, a small part of her wondered just what Conan meant when he said that her father should solve his own cases. When she decided to ask him about it, the young investigator was already gone.


That evening, at Dr. Agasa’s laboratory...

“I am so sorry, Jimmy.” Agasa said as he gave the young detective a soothing cup of tea. “You worked so hard to get this far.”

“It’s okay, Dr. Agasa.” Conan said as he sipped the tea. “I just had to get away from that idiot Richard. Sherlock was right. All those cases I solved for him just gave Moore a swelled head. It didn’t help me in finding those men who poisoned me either. And now... I don’t know where to go or what to do.”

“Well, you could always stay at your house and you‘ve still got your bank account...”

“I can’t and you know it. It would be too much to explain how Conan Edogawa would have Jimmy Kudo’s keys and know the personal identification number of his bank account. That’s the reason why I set myself up with Rachael and her father. I thought I could make Richard a better detective and maybe get more leads on those bastards who poisoned me. But it never happened, did it? Richard never did get any better and Jimmy Kudo was thought to be dead, so there was no reason for those men to come looking for me. I’ve done so well in hiding my real identity, that no one would ever think that Jimmy Kudo and Conan Edogawa were one and the same. No one except a real detective... like Sherlock Holmes.”

“I thank you for the comment, Young Conan, but as I said before, you shouldn’t belittle your own skills.”

Both turned to see the legendary detective and his associate standing at the front door. Conan was glad to see his hero again and immediately ran toward him. He stopped a few feet in front of him and looked up.

“Mr. Holmes, I want you to know that you were right. My helping Richard did nothing but inflate his ego. And now...”

“And now you are no longer living at the Moore residence, correct?” Sherlock said knowingly.

Conan nodded. “So how did you deduce that?”

“Elementary my dear Conan.” He pointed to the suitcase on Dr. Agasa’s lab table. “And we also met Rachael on our way here. She’s been looking for you for the past hour and I am willing to wager that she will eventually come here. I told her that I did not know of your whereabouts and it was just by mere chance that you were here when we arrived. In any case, have you decided on what you are going to do with your current situation?”

Conan shook his head sadly and replied, “No, I don’t know what to do. I don’t even have a place to stay any more and I don’t have any other options.”

“Ah, but you do have an option.” Holmes reminded as he knelt down to face the youth. “My offer to take you as my protégé still stands.”

Watson nodded in agreement. “It would be an honor if you would come live with us. A bright young man like yourself would most certainly be welcomed. And we can always use another set of eyes and brains.”

“So what do you say, Detective Conan?” Sherlock inquired as he held out a hand.

A moment later, the young sleuth grasped his hero’s hand warmly as a bright smile appeared on his face.

To be continued...

Author’s Notes

As the readers may have already guessed, the series has been irrevocably altered as Conan and Sherlock forge a new detective duo and Richard is going to realize that being an ace detective isn’t as easy as he thought. We’ll also have an appearance of the Junior Detective League (Detective Boys), and Rachael will have some private moments as she begins to realize certain truths. Be there!

(1) By now, the episodes of The Mountain Village Murder and the Flames of Confusion have taken place. From here on in, the next few cases will be very different.

(2) Fans remember this episode as Better Off Forgotten.