Maid Lab 11: Glass’ Sense of Justice ~3~

“Toriumi’s 3-Second Cooking!”

“Yay!

“I wonder if this is actually cooking…”

It’s definitely not cooking.

“First, we pour acetone on this slimy glass fragment.”

“Definitely not cooking…”

“After removing the excess acetone, we let the glass fragment dry.”

“Idiot! If you’re going to evaporate acetone, do it in the draft! Idiot!”

The laboratory filled with the scent of acetone, and Maito hurriedly turned on the draft switch while Katori switched on the ventilation fan in the lab. I don’t mind the smell of acetone, though. It’s not good for your health, but it’s definitely not the worst thing.

“Oh, it’s already evaporated.”

“Acetone evaporates quickly, after all.”

Since acetone evaporates faster than ethanol, the glass fragment dried out quickly. It did take more than three seconds, though.

“And here’s what we ended up with—this!”

Toriumi took one of the fragments from among the glass pieces and placed it in front of us.

“…This is…”

“Frosted glass, huh?”

Some parts of the glass fragment were white and frosted, forming letters.

“This is… a name, perhaps?”

Part of the text was damaged and unreadable, but it was clear that it was likely a name, and probably a female name.

“I see, the acetone was used to remove the oil.”

“Exactly! I figured if there’s oil on glass, this would do the trick. I noticed there were pieces that felt different while doing the puzzle, so I thought if I removed the oil, I might find the frosted glass part. And look—bingo! It was a brilliant deduction, if I do say so myself! I did it!”

It seems the sliminess of the glass fragment was due to oil.

And speaking of oil on glass… they’re known for having almost the same refractive index. Glass submerged in oil becomes almost invisible. That’s because the refractive index of glass and oil is nearly the same.

…Well, to be honest, if you just want to hide the frosted part of the glass, you could just pour water on it. Frosted glass becomes transparent when wet. However, water evaporates, whereas oil doesn’t evaporate quickly and is less likely to flow. Therefore, for the purpose of hiding the frosted part of the glass fragment, pouring oil on it is the best method.

“…So, whose name is this?”

“Well, normally, it would be the name of the owner of this glass fragment.”

The owner of the glass fragment, that is.

“Hmm, I think it’s the owner of the object that became this glass fragment.”

Toriumi took out one of the fragments from among the glass pieces.

It was a fragment with a rounded edge as if a hole had been made in it.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Not at all.”

I honestly admit I don’t recognize this as an experimental device. I have no idea what this glass fragment originally was.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t have any certainty either. Without the oil.”

Oh? It seems Toriumi has figured out what the original object was.

…Oil, huh.

It appears to be a colorless oil. Probably mineral oil. Its viscosity seems moderate.

“Is it machine oil?”

However, I can’t make further deductions. I acknowledge that my knowledge is somewhat limited, so when it comes to reasoning that requires expertise outside my own, I’m at a loss.

“Oh, machine oil, huh? Well, that’s probably very close.”

Well, it seems I was on the right track, so let’s consider that acceptable.

“Hm? Machine oil… oh, maybe…”

On the other hand, Maito looks like she’s had a realization.

“Isn’t it the stuff used for brass instruments? I think it’s a transparent mineral oil.”

Brass instruments?

“Correct! Probably!”

Ah, so it’s correct.

“I’ve heard that it’s used for the pistons and rotary parts of brass instruments. I saw and heard about it when the wind ensemble left something behind in my class before.”

…Come to think of it, brass instruments could indeed be considered machinery powered by human effort.

But still, Toriumi’s memory is quite something. If he deduced this from remembering a forgotten item, that’s impressive.

“Well, if this oil is the one used by the wind ensemble, then it would mean that the wind ensemble left this glass fragment in the chemistry lab.”

“That’s right!”

So, now we know who the culprit is.

But the problem seems to be from here on out.

“So, what about this glass?”

The true identity of this glass is likely the reason this glass fragment is here.

“Well, to state my answer first, this is probably a glass flute.”

“A glass flute?”

Maito repeats the unfamiliar term and tilts her head. I’m also in a similar state of confusion.

“Yeah, a flute. You know, the mechanism for producing sound isn’t that complex. So, if the pitch range is narrow enough, it can be made from glass.”

“Well, you just blow into it. You’re not vibrating reeds or lips or anything.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know.”

I don’t lack musical knowledge, but I’m more on Toriumi and Maito’s side rather than Katori’s. I don’t know.

“I see… so this is a musical instrument…”

And Maito looks pale as she examines the glass fragment.

…Yes.

Even though I have some musical knowledge, I’m also breaking out in a cold sweat.

“…Detective Toriumi.”

“Yes?”

“The construction is simple, and though it’s made of glass, which is much cheaper than silver or gold, this is a musical instrument…”

“Yes.”

Maito, with a strained expression, asked Toriumi.

“How much does this cost?”

“Hmm, I’m not exactly sure… but since it doesn’t have any decorations or anything, I’d say if you have two bills of a thousand yen, it should be enough.”

“Yukichi!”

…Two Yukichis, meaning 20,000 yen. For a high school student, that’s a lot of money.

In other words.

The situation where this glass flute is here, broken.

“Well, basically… if we leave this glass shard here, there’s a chance we could be blamed for two Yukichis’ worth of damage… yeah.”

I see. So we should hurry to resolve this situation.

“Well, if I had to guess, it’s probably someone in the brass band who isn’t the owner that broke this.”

Since it’s a glass flute, it would naturally break if dropped or bumped. No matter how sturdily it’s made, glass is still glass, and here it is, broken.

“Well, thinking about the oil, I can’t help but wonder if it was a brass instrument player who broke it. But there’s also the possibility that a flutist borrowed or stole oil from a horn or tuba player, so it might be hard to pinpoint the culprit.”

“Even if we can’t pinpoint the exact culprit, as long as we can avoid the blame, that’s all that matters, right?”

Or rather, there’s a high chance they’ll come forward on their own, so we don’t need to think about it too much right now.

“Okay. While I’m curious about the details, let’s set that aside. So, the flute was broken. But if it’s found out that it was broken, it’ll be compensation-worthy, and it might even crack friendships. So the person who broke the glass flute thought: How can I escape the blame?”

“And the result is that it was left here, huh?”

“They hid the name on the frosted glass with oil, and to camouflage it even further, they broke an innocent beaker on top of it… poor beaker…”

If the beaker was broken just for the sake of the cover-up, then indeed, the biggest victim here might be the beaker. Even if it was an imitation beaker, it doesn’t feel good.

“Couldn’t they have just thrown it away in the trash normally, without all this camouflage?”

“Well, if it were in the trash, they couldn’t pin the blame on someone else. In this case, it was important that it not be ‘disposed of without anyone noticing’.”

…It had to be noticed by someone?

What on earth does that mean?

In a murder case, the first thing you think about is not alibi creation but rather hiding the body, or better yet, disposing of it.

If there’s no body, there’s no crime to be exposed.

So in this case, wouldn’t it have been better to just mix it in with the trash and get rid of it without anyone noticing?

“Well, everyone in the brass band, including the owner, knows about the flute. If the flute disappeared, people would suspect theft before they even thought it might have been broken. And if a theft happened, it would have to be within the brass band. The first place they’d look for the culprit would be within the band. So they had to ‘create a culprit outside the band’.”

…Ah, I see.

To avoid making themselves or the brass band members the culprits, they needed to make it look like someone else was responsible.

So, instead of ‘hiding the body’, they chose the method of ‘leaving the body behind’.

“Well, I think eventually someone from the brass band will come here, find these glass shards, and…”

“Oh, right. The fact that these glass shards are here makes it possible that someone outside the brass band could be the culprit…”

And then we remembered.

Toriumi’s line, “Otherwise, we’d be the biggest victims.”

“…And the person they’re trying to pin the blame on… is… yeah.”

“Exactly! If the plan goes smoothly, we’ll be the prime suspects!”

“N-no, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that, right? I mean, it’s just lying here.”

“But we’ve already been fiddling with it, doing puzzles and all… It looks suspicious from the outside, doesn’t it?”

Yeah. It definitely looks suspicious.

It looks like we’re trying to piece together the glass flute that the culprit broke.

“No, no, no! But we really didn’t do anything! Without evidence, they can’t pin this on us!”

“But it sure looks suspicious, doesn’t it?”

Yes, it’s clearly suspicious. So, what should we do?

“…So, great detective Toriumi! What’s your plan?”

While Maito-san was panicking, Toriumi calmly brought out a paper bag.

“Hm? Isn’t this good enough?”

Toriumi poured the glass shards into the paper bag with a rustling sound.

“Sensei! Excuse us!”

…He entered the chemistry prep room, went straight through, and entered the chemistry lab through the opposite door.

“I see.”

“Yeah, if we were the culprits, we wouldn’t go out of our way to tell the teacher…”

We don’t know much, so all we need to do is report to the teacher that we found some ‘unidentifiable but definitely not laboratory glass shards.’

And if we add the imitation beaker shards, it perfectly explains why we realized these glass shards weren’t laboratory equipment.

“I’m back! Now we just need to feign ignorance when the brass band members come, and we’re golden, right?”

Soon, Toriumi returned, having explained everything to the teachers and handed over the glass shards.

For now, we should be in the clear. All that’s left is to play dumb.

Eventually, the remaining members of the chemistry club gathered, and we explained the situation to everyone, preparing them to feign ignorance.

We’ll be fine. While we have some bad actors, our chemistry club is full of people who are exceptionally good at lying.

…So, we enjoyed planning our camp activities, had fun playing Daihinmin, and didn’t pay any attention to the brass band members who ‘for some reason’ came by, nor to the fact that the ‘for some reason’ broken glass container was empty, nor did we worry about the ‘for some reason’ troubled expressions of those brass band members as they left the lab.

“Well, I guess everything is fine in the end?”

Thanks to the detective’s reasoning and actions, we were saved from a tight spot.

By the way, the camp dinner will be a hotpot. I’m looking forward to it.

＋Today’s Record＋

Thanks to Toriumi, everything is fine in the end.

*Postscript*

I’ve learned a bit more about what happened afterward.

In the end, the brass band director informed the other teachers that ‘the glass flute was stolen,’ leading to the discovery of the glass shards in the chemistry lab. Of course, we weren’t accused of being the culprits. While we orchestrated it that way, it seems we also had the protection of the chemistry teachers, so I’m grateful to them. Thank you.

Thus, it was revealed that the glass flute was broken, and the brass band was somewhat in disarray during the winter break.

In the end, the culprit was never found. Since it happened within the school, they couldn’t exactly go on a witch hunt.

However, within the brass band, it seems they still suspect that ‘the chemistry club is suspicious.’

The brass band is a club that works hard for competitions. Unity within the club is essential.

However, the fact that the flute was broken must have undoubtedly put a crack in their friendship or sense of unity. Instruments are not just expensive; they hold sentimental value.

So, they might have tried to unite by hating someone outside of their group. A common enemy can strengthen bonds. Exclusion can be the strongest tie that binds.

Even if, in the end, the culprit who broke the flute remains unknown. Even if there’s no evidence that we were the culprits. Even though it would be far more natural to think the culprit was someone within the brass band rather than us.

If the brass band members could think (or convince themselves) that we were the culprits, then the real culprit’s goal might have been achieved.

It’s an unpleasant thought.

But perhaps, for the brass band members, this is the right course of action. It’s their way of protecting their teammates and maintaining their unity—their version of justice.

Of course, I think they understand that it’s wrong and flawed. They probably also realize that by exercising this cracked sense of justice, they’re hurting others.

So far, I haven’t suffered any real harm (I don’t really have any interactions with the brass band members, so honestly, I don’t mind). I don’t intend to complain about this. It might only make things worse.

However, I personally want to challenge the way they practice their justice.

*Postscript 2*

I didn’t intend to complain, but Toriumi was subtly complaining here and there, probably to lay the groundwork with others. He’s a sly one. I respect that about him.