Case NOT Closed

As Sanae’s testimony concluded, at this point, the defense was in a favorable position. Not only in the audience, but also among the jurors and the judge, there were expressions of agreement.

“Curses! So, that’s what he was planning!” It suddenly dawned on Ryuuji, who stared angrily at the composed Kensuke.

Kensuke hadn’t attacked his claim of “direct evidence” earlier, but instead had readily accepted it. While this was advantageous for the prosecution, the unexpected turn of events had made it problematic. The strength of direct evidence was now leaning in favor of the defense, and dealing with it became difficult.

“Ryuuji, your inexperience is showing!” senior prosecutor Reiko Kujo, who had earlier praised Ryuuji, shook her head in disappointment.

(If it were me, I’d interrogate the witness in various ways, making her repeat the details she heard over the phone and even have her demonstrate. If she slipped up in the slightest, I’d pounce on it like a snake. Over time, I’d tear apart the perjury bit by bit)

(Why is there such a huge gap between students from the same year?) She glanced at Ryuuji and then at Kensuke with a sense of frustration.

On this side, Kensuke remained composed and began his speech.

“Well said! Fairness in the law must exist, and justice must prevail! Sanae-san, it’s because of people like you that the world has become so kind!”

He, along with the spectators in the audience, hypocritically applauded.

Kensuke didn’t blush while speaking such falsehoods. If he could earn gold coins by telling a single lie, he would build a castle several times larger than the Twilight Mansion.

“It’s evident that my client has been falsely accused by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Some unscrupulous officers are willing to blame and convict anyone to boost their case closure rates. Meanwhile, the prosecution has played along. Do you all remember the dark era of Japan’s law enforcement in the last century?”

As he spoke, the courtroom fell silent. The 1990s were indeed a dark period for Japan’s law enforcement. During that time, Japanese police had faced numerous negative news reports, including excessive use of force, coercive interrogations, corruption, and more.

These actions had rapidly eroded public trust in the police.

This situation continued until the beginning of the millennium when the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department (not to be confused with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police) implemented the “Police Reform Guidelines,” gradually improving the reputation of the Japanese police.

Kensuke’s words provoked deep contemplation among those present in the courtroom. The judges and jurors nodded in agreement. Many in the audience had lived through that era and resonated with his statement.

“Objection!” Seeing that the atmosphere was turning against him, Ryuuji became anxious and hastily stood up. “The statements made by the defense attorney are entirely unrelated to this trial and constitute incendiary remarks!”

The judge glanced at Kensuke and then hammered the gavel. “Objection sustained. Defense counsel, please proceed appropriately.”

Kensuke shrugged and sat back down, his smile unchanged. Even though the judge had ruled the objection valid, his purpose had been achieved.

In Kensuke’s perspective, the judge and three jurors in the courtroom had progress bars related to their favorability and agreement. With the testimony of the witness Sanae and his own words, those bars had already moved up significantly. Coupled with Kensuke’s consistent stance on the defendant’s innocence from the beginning, doubts about the truth of this case had begun to creep in.

The scales of justice, symbolizing fairness, had started to tip in his direction at this moment.

On the other hand, as the favorable aspect of direct evidence had shifted to the defendant’s side and the courtroom atmosphere leaned in favor of the opposition, Ryuuji realized that he might not win this case.

“Damn it, I won’t give up like this!” He gritted his teeth in frustration.

At this point, he could only present his last piece of evidence: the matter related to how Masayoshi gave commands to the dog, which was originally deduced by Kogoro Mouri. If the command could be linked to the dog’s training behavior, this evidence could be effective.

But even with this, overturning the situation seemed increasingly difficult.

Because the opposing side now had “direct evidence,” even if the dog-training command could be matched, it would, at most, be considered “circumstantial evidence.”

Its strength couldn’t compete with the opposing side’s evidence, leading to a potential “insufficient evidence” ruling. In this situation, the only option was to request an adjournment of the current court proceedings, allowing time to collect additional evidence to counter the opposition.

After some contemplation, Ryuuji stood up. “Your Honor, the prosecution requests the presentation of new evidence.”

“Request granted!” The judge struck the gavel.

Subsequently, Sanae was escorted out of the courtroom. Shortly after, a large cage containing a German Shepherd, a tape recorder, and a phone was brought in by judicial police.

“John!” Masayoshi, who had been silent until now, couldn’t help but call out. The cage contained his beloved dog.

“Now, please cooperate with me for the demonstration,” Ryuuji said, taking a cellphone from his pocket.

Based on evidence provided by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Masayoshi’s command consisted of several steps: dialing a phone number to make it ring, answering it and playing a recorded bell sound, followed by Masayoshi saying the specific command, after which the dog would initiate an attack. Ryuuji verbally described these steps in the courtroom.

“If the defendant’s command can indeed prompt this dog to attack, it would confirm the possibility that the defendant had a motive to train the dog to commit murder and had the opportunity to carry out such an act.”

At the very least, he wanted to establish a potential motive for the defendant and delay the trial.

“Do the defendant and the defense counsel have any objections to this request?” Ryuuji looked at Kensuke.

“Of course not. After all, we are innocent,” Kensuke responded calmly, gesturing as if to welcome the demonstration.

Ryuuji furrowed his brow; there had been no change in the opposition’s attitude compared to before. Did this guy still have an ace up his sleeve?

Suppressing his unease, Ryuuji handed the cellphone to Masayoshi.

Masayoshi glanced at Kensuke beside him, a hint of concern in his eyes. Regardless of how eloquent Kensuke had been earlier, or how he had bribed witnesses, the fact that he had used a command to train the dog still existed. Once demonstrated in court, it would be immediately exposed.

“Go ahead and do it bravely, Sakaguchi-san. Justice and truth won’t be distorted or tampered with by the opposition’s accusations,” declared Kensuke, speaking firmly while giving him a meaningful look.

Reluctantly, Masayoshi followed the prosecution’s request and dialed his own phone.

“Ring, ring!”

Masayoshi’s phone emitted its distinctive ringtone. His phone was quite retro, resembling a mobile phone from the previous century, so the ringtone was easily recognizable.

Upon hearing the ringtone, the German Shepherd stood up from the cage, with its hind legs bent backward, making a movement that seemed like an attack.

“He’s responding!”

Ryuuji’s eyes brightened.

The German Shepherd’s behavior matched what had been demonstrated by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department earlier. Now, as long as the subsequent dog-training command could align with it, this evidence would be deemed valid, and the defendant wouldn’t escape conviction!