Read A Midsummer's Equation: A Detective Galileo Mystery Page 13


  Hashigami walked out of the police station without waiting for an answer, so Nishiguchi followed. They went to a small place near the station and Nishiguchi ordered the yakiniku dinner set, fuel for the long slog ahead.

  “Well, this case has gone from a simple accident to a full-blown disaster,” Hashigami grumbled. “That director from Tokyo threw us a curveball. The prefectural guys can’t stop dropping comments about how we screwed up the initial investigation. I mean, who would look at that and say it was something other than an accident? You can bet we’d get in trouble if we called for an autopsy on every single one of our cases.” He stabbed at his baked fish with his chopsticks.

  “Where did they send you today?” Nishiguchi asked.

  “East Hari. I spent the whole day walking around with Shizuoka Prefecture detectives, showing them around.”

  “Up at that summer colony? Marine Hills, was it?”

  “We went there too, but we spent most of our time doing questioning at a different development, where Senba’s wife’s family lived—the place is a parking lot now.”

  “Senba’s wife was from East Hari?”

  “Apparently so,” Hashigami said, setting down his chopsticks and pulling his notebook from the jacket he’d draped over the chair next to him. “According to the files we got from Tokyo, Senba was originally from Toyohashi City, down in Aichi. He came up to Tokyo when he got a job, and married a girl from the same company when he was thirty.”

  Hashigami opened his notebook and showed Nishiguchi a page that read, “Etsuko, maiden name: Hino.”

  “Wait, so his wife already had her family house in East Hari, but they bought a summer home there too?”

  “Not quite. By the time they got married, her old house had already been taken down. She only lived in East Hari through high school. After that they moved to Yokohama. Right after she got married, they lived in Tokyo. When Senba turned thirty-five, he quit his job and started his own company doing electrical repairs. They were living in Meguro Ward at the time. Business went well, and at the age of forty-six, he bought the summer place in Marine Hills. I guess his wife always dreamed of living in a place where she could see the same ocean she looked out on as a child, so he bought it for her—that’s what he told the detectives after his arrest.” Hashigami put down his notebook and picked up his chopsticks.

  “Huh. He doesn’t sound like such a bad guy, except for the murdering part,” Nishiguchi commented between bites.

  “Well, things took a turn for the worse, obviously. He might’ve been flush enough with cash at one point to buy a summer home, but with a small business, one misstep can ruin everything. Turns out they’d gone out on a limb on a new project, and it became an albatross around their neck. Pretty soon they were drowning in debt and had to file for bankruptcy. He got to keep the house in Meguro and the summer home down here, but then his wife got sick. Cancer.”

  Nishiguchi frowned. “You weren’t kidding about that turn for the worse.”

  “Some guys just run out of luck,” Hashigami said, picking at his stew. “They sold the place in Meguro to pay the medical bills, and moved to East Hari. So his wife’s dream came true, though not quite in the way they’d hoped, and it didn’t last long. She died right after they moved down here, and then it was just him.”

  “Not the easiest place to live by yourself,” Nishiguchi said, remembering the abandoned summer home.

  “No, it’s not,” Hashigami agreed. “He stuck it out for a while, though. Until things got bad. So he headed back up to Tokyo and started doing work for other electricians. That’s right around when he got arrested.”

  Nishiguchi nodded. “I read the file.”

  “I guess he was broke, and lonely, and things just kind of fell apart. Not that it makes what he did any better, but I feel some sympathy for the guy.”

  Nishiguchi’s chopsticks stopped in midair. “You think Tsukahara sympathized with Senba, too?”

  Hashigami mulled it over for a moment, then said, “Why not? He was the arresting detective, so he was probably the one who wrote that report about Senba buying the place in Marine Hills. He might have thrown that detail in there to make things go a little easier for the guy in court.”

  “Hmm. You suppose it’s possible Senba didn’t bear Tsukahara much of a grudge?”

  “Could be,” Hashigami agreed. “There were still a few people left that knew his wife’s family in East Hari, and they told us that after Senba and his wife moved to Marine Hills, they came over to pay her old neighbors a visit every now and then. They all seem to think Senba was the nicest guy you could know. More than a few of them wondered why he did it, if there wasn’t some bigger reason for the murder. Come to think of it, I could see how that curiosity might’ve brought Tsukahara back to visit.”

  “So Hidetoshi Senba and the current case are…?”

  Hashigami shook his head. “Entirely unrelated. The prefectural guys lost interest pretty quick, too. Guess we were barking up the wrong tree.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  A game show was on TV, with celebrities trying to complete various hazardous challenges to the laughter of a studio audience. Kyohei wasn’t particularly interested in it, but he sat with his arms resting on his knees and pretended to enjoy the show. Aunt Setsuko arrived with a tray of cut pears, which she placed on the low table beside him. “Dig in,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Kyohei said, ignoring the tiny fork she placed next to the plate and grabbing one of the slices of pear with his fingers.

  He’d eaten dinner with his aunt and uncle and had stayed on in their small apartment inside the inn afterward. Uncle Shigehiro was sitting nearby, reading a book and drinking tea. Narumi had eaten with them but left as soon as dinner was done.

  “What did you get up to today, Kyohei?” his uncle asked. “I didn’t see you outside of your room much.”

  “Summer homework, mostly. And I played some video games after.”

  “Homework? Good boy.”

  “Well, I only just started. But the professor helps me out when I don’t get anything.”

  “The professor?”

  “He means Mr. Yukawa,” Setsuko said as she stood and went off to the kitchen.

  “Oh, right. I wonder how long the professor’s planning on staying,” Shigehiro said.

  “He told me he couldn’t go until he was done with his research, but he couldn’t get anywhere with it because the DESMEC people were a bunch of idiots.”

  “That so? Well, I suppose he is a professor at Imperial University, so at least we don’t have to worry about him running out of money.” Shigehiro ran a hand through his thinning hair before looking at Kyohei. “Did he say anything about what happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, is he upset about that guy dying, or was he wondering about how he might’ve died, or anything like that?”

  “Not to me. He did say it was hard to relax with the police coming and going all the time.”

  “Yeah,” Shigehiro said and gave a long sigh. “Bad luck for you too, huh. This is supposed to be your time in the sun, and I haven’t even had the chance to take you swimming yet. Sorry about that.”

  “I don’t mind. The ocean will always be there next time.”

  “Yeah,” Shigehiro said again, when the cordless telephone began to ring. He moved to get it, but it stopped ringing almost immediately. Setsuko must’ve picked it up at the front desk.

  Kyohei looked at the time. It was almost nine. The game show was finished. Kyohei held the remote control in his hand and wondered what kind of an excuse he could come up with for staying a little bit longer. Uncle Shigehiro would go take his bath anytime now; he only had to hold out until then.

  He flipped through the channels until he found a show starring a popular actress he’d heard about. He’d never seen the show before, but he immediately put down the remote and settled in as though he’d been waiting for it to start.

  “You like these shows?” his uncle asked
after a few minutes.

  “I guess,” Kyohei said without taking his eyes off the TV. He hoped his uncle wasn’t a fan.

  The cordless phone began to ring again, except with a different ring tone than before.

  “Who could that be?” Shigehiro wondered, not moving to pick up the phone.

  The sound of hurrying footsteps came down the hallway and Aunt Setsuko came in.

  “It’s your father, Kyohei,” she said, picking up the phone. “Hello? Are you still there? I’ll hand you over to him.” She held the phone out to Kyohei.

  “My dad?”

  “He’s calling from Osaka.”

  Kyohei put the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

  “Hey, how’s it going, Kyohei? You doing okay out there?” his father asked in a cheery tone.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  “Great, great. Hey, I heard from your uncle that some pretty crazy stuff was going on. Why didn’t you tell your mom when she called the other night?”

  Kyohei hadn’t told her because he didn’t want to have to explain the whole thing, but he resisted the urge to tell his father that. “I dunno,” he said. “I guess it just didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

  “I’d say someone dying is a pretty big deal. You okay?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I was just thinking it must be pretty hard to relax with the police crawling all over the place. You getting outside, doing your homework?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine, really. I’ve been having a good time, and I even got some of my homework done already.”

  “Well, that’s good. Just, if you don’t feel comfortable being there, you be sure to tell me, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure thing,” Kyohei said, though he wondered what his dad would do if he did say that he was uncomfortable. Would he have him come down to Osaka? Wasn’t he out here with his aunt and uncle because he couldn’t go in the first place?

  “Okay, well, I guess you’ll be out there for a little while still, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that’s good. Mind handing me to your uncle? Oh, wait, your mom wants to talk to you.”

  “I don’t need to talk to Mom. We just talked yesterday.”

  Kyohei handed the phone to his aunt. Setsuko exchanged a few words with his father before hanging up.

  “He sound worried?” Shigehiro asked.

  “Not too bad. He has a pretty one-track mind, and right now it’s on his work.” Setsuko turned to Kyohei. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, of course, but if you’d rather be with your dad, just let us know. I’ll have your uncle give him a call.”

  “Sure,” Kyohei said.

  “Right, well, it’s time for me to get into the bath,” Shigehiro said, finally standing.

  Setsuko went back into the kitchen, leaving Kyohei alone in the room at last.

  He opened the door to make sure no one was out in the hallway, then went back into the room and opened the drawer next to the television. The drawer was empty except for a single key attached to a thin wooden block with a ring at one end. He took it out and put it into his shorts pocket.

  Turning off the TV, Kyohei left the room and ran down the hallway, leaving his slippers behind to avoid making too much noise. Dashing through the lobby, he pressed the button for the elevator and the door opened right away. Kyohei jumped inside, his heart racing.

  Up on the third floor, he knocked on the door to the Sea of Clouds Room. He heard someone undo the latch on the door, and then he was face to face with Yukawa.

  “Got it,” Kyohei said, showing him the master key.

  “Good work. How much time do I have?”

  “I should try to get it back before my uncle gets out of the bath, so about twenty minutes.”

  “That should be more than enough. Let’s go,” Yukawa said, stepping out of his room in his socks.

  Yukawa walked past the elevator and took the stairs up one story to the fourth floor. But then he turned and went in the opposite direction Kyohei had expected him to go.

  “Where are you going, Professor?” Kyohei asked. “The Rainbow Room is down that way.”

  Yukawa stopped. “The Rainbow Room?”

  “Didn’t you want to see the room that belonged to the guy who died?”

  Yukawa had said he wanted the master key because there was a room he wanted to see. Kyohei had assumed it was the room where the guy who had fallen on the rocks had been staying. He had wanted to see it himself, especially after the police put up a line of “do not cross” yellow tape across the door.

  Yukawa shook his head. “We don’t need to see that room.”

  “So what room do we need to see, then?”

  “Come with me and find out.”

  Yukawa walked a little bit further, stopping in front of a room with a sign that read “The Ocean.”

  “This room?”

  Yukawa nodded and pulled something out of his pocket. “Put these on,” he said.

  They were white gloves, a bit baggy on Kyohei’s hands.

  “Sorry I didn’t bring any smaller ones. Try not to touch anything—actually, let me rephrase that. Under no condition should you touch anything in the room.”

  “What the heck are you planning to do in there?”

  A thoughtful look came to Yukawa’s face and he said, “A little investigation.”

  “An investigation? Of what?”

  “Call it a physics investigation. This building has an extremely fascinating structure, one that might yield valuable insights in my research.”

  “So why didn’t you just ask my uncle to let you see it?”

  “So he could tell the police, and have them waste my time questioning me about every single little detail? No thank you. The key, please.”

  “Being a scientist must be tough,” Kyohei said, handing him the key.

  “There’s no easy path to the truth,” Yukawa said, unlocking the door and opening it. He groped for the light switch, turned it on, and stepped inside. Kyohei followed. The air conditioner hadn’t been running, and the room was hot and stuffy.

  Yukawa stood by the entrance, scanning the room with his eyes, before kneeling. He ran his gloved hand over the tatami mats on the floor, then turned his hand over to examine his fingers.

  “What are you doing?” Kyohei asked.

  “Nothing. I was thinking the mats might be a little dusty since the room hasn’t been used for a while, but it looks like they do a good job keeping the place clean.”

  Yukawa walked in toward the back of the room and opened the curtain. Kyohei looked through the window from behind him. He could see the backyard from here.

  “You set off some fireworks with your uncle, you said?”

  “Yeah, some rockets.”

  “How many?”

  “I dunno. About five?”

  “Do you remember if these windows were closed?”

  “Yeah, they were closed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, totally sure. My uncle and I checked before we set them off, just in case one of the rockets flew into a room by accident.”

  Yukawa nodded. “How about the lights?”

  “Huh?”

  “When you were checking to make sure that the windows were closed, were the lights in this room turned on?”

  “Oh.” Kyohei scratched his head. “I don’t know.”

  “This room was empty that night, which means that if you looked up at it from the backyard, the windows should have all been dark.”

  That made sense to Kyohei, too, but he hadn’t thought about it at the time, and now he couldn’t remember. “I got a feeling some of the lights might’ve been on, but I’m not sure which room,” he told the professor.

  Yukawa nodded and closed the curtains. He began to circle the room, examining the walls. Occasionally, he knocked on the wall with his knuckles. He appeared to be checking the sound.

  “It’s quite an old building. I wonder
when it was built.”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but more than thirty years ago,” Kyohei said. “It was my uncle’s father who built it, and my uncle took it over about fifteen years ago.”

  “Fifteen years? How old is your uncle?”

  “His late sixties, I guess?”

  “Your aunt looks much younger than that.”

  “She said that in a couple years she’d be sixty if you rounded to the nearest decade.”

  “I suppose that would make her fifty-three or fifty-four, then. She doesn’t look it,” Yukawa said, then turned to Kyohei as though he had just thought of something. “How old is your father?”

  “Forty-five.”

  “That’s quite a gap between siblings.”

  “That’s because my aunt’s mother died when she was really little. My dad’s mother was my grandpa’s second wife.”

  “Half-siblings. I see,” Yukawa said, adjusting his glasses.

  “Also, my aunt left the house when she was still pretty young, and went to live by herself in Tokyo. That’s why my dad said he never really felt like he had a sister when he was growing up. She was more like an old cousin or something.”

  “Your dad isn’t one to pull punches, I gather. At any rate, that means that your uncle was already into his fifties when he took over the inn. Any idea what he did before that?”

  “He worked at some engine company.”

  “Engines?”

  “Yeah, he kept getting transferred all over the place, too, and leaving my aunt behind. When they were in Tokyo, it was pretty much just my aunt and Narumi in the house.”

  “So they were based in Tokyo before coming here?”

  “Why do you want to know that?”

  Yukawa shrugged. “No particular reason.” He turned and opened up the closet, revealing a stack of white futons. After staring at them for several seconds, he pulled the futons out and climbed into the closet, where he began rapping on the wall with his knuckles and rubbing it with his fingers.

  “Professor?” Kyohei said, suddenly growing uneasy.

  Yukawa stepped out of the closet. He replaced the futons and shut the door. “Right, let’s go.”