His partner, having no such connection to any of us, had no problem conveying the information Goro held back.
“Your father was murdered. He didn’t die of sickness. Someone suffocated him.”
Chapter Seven
I woke up the morning after Akiko and Tama’s arrest hoping it was all a bad dream. I put myself back in the living room of their house and instead imagined the two siblings not fighting, all of us eating dinner together, and the evening ending peacefully. Mimoji-chan popped onto my bed and head-butted me in the face again, reminding me I was home, in bed, and last night did, in fact, happen.
After Goro’s partner dropped the news, Akiko and Tama left with Goro in the back of the police car, and I stood in their doorway and watched them go. The food I delivered to them would’ve gone bad so I brought it home and ate alone while watching NHK dramas in the living room.
What was going on with Akiko? Her father promised her the house and land, and when she heard the opposite from Tama, her temper skyrocketed. She’d always been so peaceful which was why we were inseparable as kids. I was the overly emotional one, and she was my down-to-earth, easy-going other half. Our moms used to say we were twins separated at birth. We even made it all the way to college without having one fallout, though she wasn’t happy I dated Tama because those two never got along.
How could anyone think Akiko would kill her father? She loved him. She doted on him and he on her. When he was sick on and off these last two years, she waited on him religiously. Anything he wanted or needed, she got it for him. We would often speak on the phone in the late evenings, me in Tokyo and Akiko here in Chikata, because she had no time for socialization. Some days, she longed for a shoulder to cry on or someone to gossip with, and I was always on the other side of the phone. But the last six months, she had distanced herself from me, and I had heard from her less and less. I actually thought she had started dating someone. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.
And what about Tama? Would he kill his dad? I know they didn’t get along, but Tama didn’t strike me as the type to smother his own father. Even though he was a jerk to me, he had been a stand-up member of the community. He taught at my old high school, ran frequent fundraisers, and volunteered during his vacations. Chiyo, the town gossip if ever there was one, had told me about his good deeds every time she came to see me. Come to think of it, she did mention once or twice Tama was dating someone new, but I didn’t want to hear about it so I never asked who. I should have asked. I would’ve been better prepared to deal with Haruka when I saw her.
“Mei-chan! I’m making breakfast!” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Five minutes, please!” I called back, curling around the cat.
So, if Akiko’s dad was murdered, then who did it? And why?
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the scene of the crime. Akiko’s father sat at his usual table, his health failing and wrapped in a blanket. His breakfast and a hot cup of tea steamed on the table, awaiting consumption. He flipped through the town newspaper while NHK news played on the TV across the room. What happened then? If there had been a struggle, the table would have been upturned, food would have been disrupted, tea would have stained the tatami mats, and the house would have been in disarray. I saw none of that yesterday. And if the police had seen that, they would’ve declared the house a crime scene. They’d thought Akiko’s father died naturally, and so did everyone else. So it was safe to assume Akiko’s father knew his murderer. They’d probably spent time together that day and he or she had killed him when he least expected it. Or maybe they fought briefly before he was killed. Who could say?
I’d watched enough crime dramas on TV to know that the next month would be hard for Akiko. She’d already lost her father, and now her brother wanted to take away her only home. In my heart, I knew she couldn’t be a murderer. She would have gladly helped her father for years and never complained.
My phone, plugged in next to the bed, buzzed. I reached past the cat to pick it up. Ugh. My landlady’s name displayed on the screen as an incoming call.
“Hello?” I cringed, hearing my tired voice.
“Mei-san, I’m sorry to call you so early on a Sunday,” she said, sighing, “but it’s necessary to speak to you before the weekend is over.”
My landlady, always so proper and respectful, made me feel like a complete loser when I conversed with her.
“Okay…”
“You’re behind on the rent over two months, and it’s already the fourth of October. I spoke with a lawyer and I’m afraid I have to evict you. I’m sorry to spring this on you so suddenly.”
I held the phone away from my face and groaned, keeping my tears at bay. I knew this was going to happen.
“I understand.” I rubbed my face with my right hand and sat up in bed. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad tenant. I enjoyed living there, but I understand.”
This was it. This was the end of my big city life. My apartment, my job, my few city friends, and my fast-paced, eat-on-the-run existence were dead.
“The eviction process is long, and I don’t think it would be any good for your credit. I’d like to advertise the apartment and get someone in now. So I thought, if you wouldn’t mind, if you came and vacated now, I’ll give you a break on the last month’s rent.”
Considering she had a deposit, key money, and a cleaning fee from me, I didn’t think I’d set her back a large chunk of change or anything. She’d just rather have someone in the building with a regular job and a consistent income. Since my mom was my guarantor, I didn’t want to bring any hardship on her either. I’m glad my landlady was letting me off the hook so easily.
“That’s really generous and nice of you considering how bad of a tenant I am. I’ll be there tomorrow to get my things. My mom said she would drive me in to the city, and I can pay you in cash for what I owe you.”
My landlady sighed on the other end of the phone. “That would be great. I appreciate it. Mei-san, I believe you’re a good person and would be a great tenant if only you hadn’t lost your job. If you ever need anything, you can always talk to me.”
My eyes teared up. I didn’t deserve her kindness.
“You’ve been sweet to me. Thank you, and I’m so sorry again.”
We hung up the phone at the same time. She was always nice to me, and I felt bad for letting her down. It must’ve been hard for her to evict me.
It looked like my plan to return to the city had failed as well. I couldn’t find a new apartment without a guarantor, and Mom wouldn’t do that for me again. And none of the guarantor companies would help me without a job. I was out of luck, bone dry.
I swung my legs out of the bed and scooped up Mimoji-chan into my arms. Glancing around my room, I tried to imagine where I would put all of my belongings.
In a day’s time, I’d be living at home again.
Chapter Eight
I surveyed the eighteen meter row of vines in front of me and stretched my shoulders before slipping in my earbuds and listening to some AKB48 — not my favorite, but high energy enough to keep me going for the next hour or two. Harvesting was my least hated job on the farm, so I wasn’t going to complain. I would’ve rather hired someone else to help with planting vegetables than hired people to harvest them. Taking a pair of shears in my gloved hands and adjusting the wide brim hat on my head, I started to snip away at the sweet potato vines. Snip, toss, pull. Snip, toss, pull. A pile of vines ended up to the side of the row as I made my way along.
“You’re gonna need a better pair of boots for doing this,” Mom shouted at me over my music. I turned it down, and she followed behind me with a potato fork, a large pitchfork she used to loosen the ground and unearth the sweet potatoes.
“I have old boots back in my apartment. We’ll get them tomorrow.” I closed my eyes and blew out a long breath, quelling anger at myself for getting into this situation. Normally on a Sunday afternoon, I’d be having coffee at a local cafe, reading a book, or going to the movies.
I never imagined I’d be digging up sweet potatoes and living in my old childhood room.
Snip, toss, pull. I turned up my music and threw more vines to the side. I would have to return and cut some of the vines to keep in water over the winter and replant them in the spring. Most people just bought their sweet potato slips at the store, but Mom had cultivated this crop from some of her best harvests. We always replanted our same sweet potatoes, and the local stores sold out of them quickly.
Tomorrow, we’d come back, add compost to the row, and pack it down for the winter. It was a lot of work but worth it. One hill of sweet potatoes from one vine could produce a dozen or more potatoes.
I finished the row after ninety minutes and then backtracked to help Mom dig out the tubers.
“Mei-chan,” she shouted at me, indicating I should take out my earbuds. I pressed pause and popped them out. “I’m so happy you’re home.” She smiled at me, and my stomach twisted. I wished I could say the same. “It’s nice working with someone I don’t have to teach. Chiyo helps out, but the other people I hire need to be instructed to do everything.”
I had done this every year for over fifteen years, between school, homework, and cram school, too. Nothing was more like second nature than farming, and I hated every minute of it.
Or I used to hate every minute of it.
“I don’t know. I despised all this growing up.” I kicked at the dirt and sent a baby sweet potato flying into the next row. Mom frowned at me. “It’s so different from working in a store or an office.”
Mom hid her face under the brim of her hat as she bent over to throw more sweet potatoes into the basket.
“I know it seems lowly or backwards to someone like you, but this is a good life.”
I chastised myself for being a jerk again.
“I raised you to be an independent young woman. Your father would have wanted that, too. I wanted you to have the good life and the college education I never got.” She groaned as she straightened up and back bended to stretch her spine and shoulders. “But this land is paid off. We only have to pay utilities and taxes, and I make more than enough teaching and farming to get whatever I want.”
I let my arms fall to my sides as I watched her fill up the basket.
“Really, Mei-chan. You don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”
I bent over and got back to forking up potatoes. “I don’t know what happiness is like. I haven’t been happy in years.”
“We’ll have to work on that then.”
Mom nodded her head, definitively, and I knew the gesture so well, I feared what may come next. When Mom had her heart set on something, a goal, a project, or a plan, she finished it.
I could imagine her going to every resource she had, scouring every corner of the town, or calling in every favor she’d ever been owed just to find me the perfect job. In my head, I saw myself working at the new Midori Sankaku, washing dishes at the new restaurant run by the handsome chef, running the register at a gift store, or even scrubbing out the baths at Chiyo’s new bathhouse. Could I be happy doing any of those jobs? I jerked to the present as a handful of dirt hit my jeans.
“Hey, stop daydreaming,” Mom chided me, laughing. “I swear your entire teenage years were spent staring out the window at the sky. What do you even do in your own head that’s that interesting?”
“Hmph. Just thinking.” I backed up a meter and kept digging. “Actually, I was wondering what to think about Akiko’s dad, since the police say he’s been murdered.”
Mom shook her head. She was so surprised when I told her the news this morning. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill him. He was sure to die anyway in the next few years, and it’s not like Midori Sankaku need the land all that badly.”
I stopped and leaned on the handle of the potato fork. “So, who do you think did it?”
Mom stuck her hands on her hips, her gardening apron getting dirtier by the minute. I should get an apron. “Seems to me there are a few people who would benefit from his death.”
I doubled over laughing, my voice bouncing off the barn back to me. “I remember all those Agatha Christie books you read when I was a kid.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Every night by the fire. The library got a good workout from me.”
“I know!” I shot my finger into the air. “Let’s solve the crime. You and me. We’d make an excellent team.”
“Ha,” she scoffed, bending over. “If so, partner, then you have a lot of catching up to do. You’ll need to go to the town hall this week and learn more about the Midori Sankaku business. If there’s anyone at fault for this mess, it has to be them.”
“Yes, Captain.” I came to a stiff salute and smiled.
“Get back to work, Lieutenant. I want to spend the evening watching the new drama on TV and drinking saké.”
“I love your priorities, Mom.”
Mom and I cleaned up after gardening all morning and headed into town for lunch. She rarely ate out at a restaurant, so I came along happily. If we had been at home, she’d have made me sweet potatoes for lunch. I would probably be eating them for dinner the next three nights in a row. Thankfully, sweet potatoes were my least hated vegetable.
“Where are we going for lunch?” My mouth watered at the thought of the Japanese curry place in town, a chain restaurant but one of the best around. I always went into a coma after eating their curry.
“Come,” Mom said, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and walking in front of me. Her short gait shuffled along, her kimono keeping her steps dainty. Growing up, I’d always loved when my mom wore kimono. She would save them for the weekend, just like now, and everyone would compliment her on her attire. I only wore kimono for special occasions. In high school, I had been into Japanese street fashion, jeans, skirts, and colorful clothing and didn’t care about kimonos. After college, I morphed into a salary woman. I wore nothing but black skirts, button-down shirts, and black blazers. They filled my apartment’s closet in the city. I would be so out of place here in Chikata. If only I had the money to buy a new wardrobe.
My stomach began to churn as we approached the corner, and I noticed the line of people at the new restaurant, Sawayaka. On the blackboard outside, a list of specials announced a seafood hot pot with fresh mizuna greens. I had totally forgotten about this.
“Mom,” I pleaded, grabbing at her arm as she marched past the people waiting in line, “let’s go somewhere else for lunch. This place is so busy.”
“Nonsense, Mei-chan. I have the chef’s table here.”
“You have what?”
I came to an abrupt halt as Mom reached the hostess and the two smiled and hugged each other. “Tsukiko-san! It’s good to see you in here today. Chef-san was just talking about your wonderful greens and sweet potatoes, and he was sure you’d stop by. Is this your daughter?”
When I thought my mom would start meddling in my life, arranging jobs for me, I had no idea she’d get to work so fast. It was literally two hours ago she vowed she’d help me out.
“Yes, this is Mei,” Mom replied, gesturing to me. I bowed to the young woman, thankful I put on mascara and lip balm before we left the house. “She’s moving back home for a while so I want her to get to know all the new faces in town. Mei, this is Ana.”
Ana held out her hand to me, and I noticed the big diamond ring on her left ring finger. She must have been my age but already engaged or married and working here. I buried my jealousy deep in the soil of my gut. Maybe she was married to the chef? What was his name? Yasa-something…
“Nice to meet you,” I said, bowing to her and shaking her hand. “Are you from around here?”
“I grew up in Saitama prefecture and went to college in the States. But now I live in Kawagoe with my husband. Thankfully, it’s only a ten minute commute! Let’s get the two of you seated.”
Ana walked us to a two-top table next to the kitchen with a “Reserved” placard on it. She took the sign, seated us, and then retu
rned with hot towels.
“Chef-san will be happy to see you. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Once she left and I’d wiped down my hands with the hot towel, I leaned forward to whisper. “Mom, how come you never told me about this place?”
Mom smiled, sipping at the glass of water on the table. She wore one of her everyday kimonos and the color brightened her face and made her look five years younger. Not that she looked old to begin with. She could’ve easily passed for a forty year old on most days.
“Believe it or not, Sawayaka is one of my many investments around town.”
“Investments?” I believed my brother would know this, but I did not. He got all the information, and I had to pry it from Mom months later.
“I’ve been investing in some local businesses since I’ve managed to save a lot of money over the years. I have a ten percent interest in this restaurant and another ten percent in Chiyo’s new bathhouse. I’ve bought shares in Midori Sankaku and in the package delivery business that just opened a warehouse and distribution center a few kilometers from here.”
I blinked my eyes and imagined my mom doing business in meetings or traveling to locations to inspect warehouses. Usually, I pictured her hunched over in the fields, storing vegetables in the barn, cooking and drying daikon radish for the winter, making pickles, or falling asleep at the kotatsu with Mimoji-chan in her lap.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, laughing. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m a business woman. I even hired an accountant and stopped using Hirata to manage everything. He was being such a pain about all the extra work I gave him.” My brother, Hirata, was a complainer when it came to work. It amazed me he was married with kids since he’d always balked at having to take care of additional people.
“I just… I’ve been knocked over with one surprise after another this weekend. I’m shocked you never told me about any of this.”
The Daydreamer Detective Page 5
