707 had earned a certain degree of hostility from other detectives, and the jealous ones called him a hermit detective, or a computer detective, but neither one of these is a particularly accurate representation of the truth. Tabitha Germain had also tended to think of 707 as an armchair detective, but in fact, Seven was quite the opposite, a very active, aggressive individual.
While he had absolutely no interest in social conventions, he was certainly not the kind of detective to shut himself up in a dark room with the shades drawn and refuse to come out.
He never thought of himself as 707, it was just the most famous and most powerful of the many detective codes that he used during his life. The name had is uses, but lacked obscurity. 707 had a real name that nobody knew, and nobody will ever know, but a name which only he knew never defined him.
But back to the Wara Ningyo Murder Cases.
"Sebastian..." Tabitha Germain said, looking over the black business card be had handed her without bothering to hide her suspicious. "Stanley Sebastian, right?"
"Yes. Stanley Sebastian," the man said, in the same unruffled tone.
They had moved out of the bedroom into the living room of Believe Bridesmaid's house. They were sitting opposite each other on expensive sofas. Sebastian was seated with his knees up and his arms wrapped around them. Germain thought this looked a little childish, but since Sebastian was obviously not a child, it seemed a little creepy. The fact that she failed to comment on it at all was because she was much too grown up. To escape the awkward silence, Germain looked down at the card again-Stanley Sebastian: Detective.
"According to this, you're a detective?"
"Yes, I am,"
"You mean... a private detective?"
"No, that term would not be very accurate. I feel the word 'private' carries with it an excess of neurotic egotism... you might say that I am an unprivate detective-a detective without ego."
"I see..."
In other words, he didn't have a license.
If she'd had a pen, she would have written "idiot" on the card, but sadly, there were no writing implements within reach, so she settled for putting it down on the table as far from her as possible, as if it were unclean.
"So, Sebastian... let me ask again, what exactly were you doing down there?"
"Same as you. Investigating," Sebastian said, without the slightest change in his expression. His eyes never blinked. Rather unsettling.
"I was hired by the parents of this house's owner-by Mr. Bridesmaid's parents, and am currently conducting an investigation into the killings. It seemed to me that you were here for much the same reason, Germain."
By this point Germain no longer really cared who this Sebastian was-private detective or unprivate detective, she wanted nothing to do with him. The only problem was how much of her conversation he had heard from under the bed... which in a worst-case scenario could affect her future career. If any information about the mysterious 707 was made public because of her, she would have to do a great deal more than simply resign. She had casually broached the subject, and he had claimed that the bed muffled the sound of her voice and he had not been able to make out what she was saying, but this was not something she could afford to believe,
"Yes... I'm also a detective," Germain said, feeling like she had no other choice. If she had not been on a leave of absence, she would have claimed to be an FBI agent, but since she was, she did not want to risk him asking to see her badge. It seemed safer to lie-after all, there was a distinct possibility he was lying too. She did not need to feel at all guilty.
