The Daydreamer Detective

by S. J. Pajonas

  “Going home?” he asked, sipping at a hot cup of coffee, a thermos on the seat next to him.

  “She’s going home, and I’m walking into town for the meeting at 20:00.”

  He nodded his head, not offering anything more in the way of conversation, so we headed to the end of the driveway.

  Akiko sighed as she laid her head on my shoulder, her arm wrapped around mine. “Why do I feel like this ordeal is never going to end? I’ll be the town pariah forever and no one will ever want to talk to me again.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, grabbing her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. Her flat long hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, and her face gleamed with a waxy sheen. If she hadn’t been walking and talking, I would’ve suspected she was already dead. “Everything will be fine! Go get some rest. Take a hot bath and relax. Tama’s at his place, right?” She nodded in response. “Then you have the house to yourself. Enjoy it.”

  “Not exactly to myself,” she whispered, as the police car slowly turned around in my driveway and followed us. “And it won’t be my place for long. Tama’s right. There’s no way I’ll be able to win against him in court.”

  “Shhh. Don’t say those things.” I left her at the end of her driveway. “I’ll go speak with him later this week and see what I can do. Until then, we’ll all sleep better if we can figure out who murdered your dad. That’s the most important thing.”

  I speedwalked to the town, only glancing back once to see Akiko heading into her house and the police car firmly outside. Didn’t they think that was a waste of resources? I was sure that cop would rather have been doing something useful instead of babysitting a bookworm, homebody, and manga geek like Akiko.

  I stayed far enough off the road, walking in the gravel, but not one car passed me on the way into town proper. I would miss living in the city. I loved the energy, the buzz, and the constant movement of the people, cars, and trains. Out here in Saitama prefecture, everything felt slower, sleepier. I had had to start running a fan all night long while I slept because the house was too quiet. How could anyone sleep when it was that quiet? I had no idea. I couldn’t hack it more than one night.

  The lights blazed brightly at the community center when I arrived. Mom’s usual cooking class room remained dark and empty, though. She was one of two people in town that taught there, and she was at home making pickles tonight. The other woman who taught here instructed people on how to make baked goods. I’d heard her classes were informative and you got to eat everything. Mmmm, I’d love some warm bread.

  My stomach grumbled imagining a thick slice of bread, spread with butter and preserves, and an older woman walking next to me laughed. I shrugged my shoulders at her and smiled. What could I say? My brain would daydream about anything.

  In the main meeting room, a panel of people sat and waited for others to come and join the crowd. I use the term “crowd” loosely. It was just me and five other people. But I sat down, shrugged off my coat, and grabbed my pen and paper from my bag.

  Right away, I recognized Fujita Takahara and Shin Tajima. Another woman sat with them, but she held a pen and paper, so I guessed she must be the meeting’s secretary. Opposite them, another man ran a computer and projector.

  “Thank you for coming. This is one of the last information meetings we’re holding for town residents before the winter sets in, so it’s good you made it,” Tajima said, smiling out at everyone from a spot at the podium. “Tonight, we’re going to go over the numbers for those of you considering selling your land to the town. Please look to your right and take a packet of information from the chair on the aisle. This contains all the statistics and details you may want to know about land uses, profits to the town, and Midori Sankaku’s long history as a prosperous business in Japan.”

  I slid to the right and grabbed a packet but left it closed on my lap. In my notebook, I started a new page entitled, “Suspects.” Down the length of the page, I wrote out my considerations and what I knew about them.

  First, “Tama Kano: Son of the deceased. Was bitter and angry last time I saw him. Wants to sell land to Midori Sankaku.”

  That covered motive but not opportunity.

  “Was at school all day when father was killed.”

  I thought for a moment and put my pen to paper, but stopped. Who else could have committed the murder? My own mom? She was right across the road all day and had the opportunity. My scalp prickled and I glanced around, as if everyone could peer into my brain and see my traitorous thoughts. Calm down, Mei. But she had no real motive the more I thought about it. Nothing that Kano had done would have any affect on her and the family home. She would be upset to see him go, but she had said good-bye to many friends throughout the years. I racked my brain and couldn’t come up with anything. If Mom had been too involved in their lives, Akiko would have said something.

  I chewed on the top of my pen while I turned my attention to the front of the room. The lights dimmed, and Tajima began his PowerPoint presentation while Takahara sat next to him and stared up at the screen. “It’s important both for the health of the town and for the surrounding areas that we continue to work towards a boost in economic resurgence. With the help of Midori Sankaku, we’ve seen new investment in local businesses, with several new restaurants and service oriented shops opening in the last few months. We have a brand new grocery store opening, which provides more jobs to the local residents and keeps people purchasing groceries locally instead of driving out of the prefecture to shop at big box stores. And now land that has sat vacant or unattended will be put to good use.”

  I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my knees, absorbing all of this new information. Tajima was right; this greenhouse and new grocery store would be good for Chikata and the surrounding towns. The greenhouse would provide more vegetables that couldn’t be grown during the winter months, but it would bring jobs as well. A lot of out-of-work farmers could run or harvest a greenhouse. Not only that but the new grocery store would bring people from other towns to the area, and that would be great for other businesses around here.

  Tajima pointed to a line graph on the screen that climbed steadily over the course of the last few years and into the future. I couldn’t help but agree with him. Yes, this sounded like a great idea. And if I were Tajima, I’d be doing everything in my power to win over the residents that didn’t want to sell their land. Midori Sankaku could have taken their business elsewhere, and still could. Though the grocery store was built and ready to open, they hadn’t yet broken ground on the greenhouse, and that’s the part of the plan the town stands to gain the most from.

  “When you sell us your land at anywhere from 80,000 yen to 120,000 yen per square meter, which is a very fair price for land that’s been abandoned, we turn around and sell it directly to Midori Sankaku at a ten percent markup.”

  “Why wouldn’t I just sell directly to Midori Sankaku and get more money?” asked the old lady who entered the room at the same time as me. Good question.

  “We have a contract with Midori Sankaku that will allow you to sell the land to the town and avoid any legal costs because they will cover those costs for you. You can even choose your own lawyer, and they will take care of it. All of that information is on page twenty-two of the handout. We want the process to go smoothly for everyone.”

  I shuffled to page twenty-two of the handout and found information on tax breaks, legal cost negotiations, and timelines for selling and vacating the land. The other thirty or forty pages of information covered everything I could think of to ask: how this worked in other parts of the country, statistics on jobs and displacement of individuals during construction, how long construction would take, who would be in charge, new roads that would be built… I flipped aimlessly through the information and set it on the chair next to me.

  After another fifteen minutes of slides, Tajima opened the floor for questions. I sat back and let other people go first since I was attending to feel out both Tajima and Takahara
for their personalities, not what they wanted out of the land grab scheme.

  On my Suspects page, I wrote: “Shin Tajima: Mayor. Wants what’s best for Chikata. Will be voted out if he doesn’t get the job done. Possible kick-backs from Midori Sankaku?”

  That was a thought. Maybe he stood to get more out of the deal than what floated on the surface. Was it something he’d kill for?

  I raised my hand and waited to be called on.

  “Yamagawa-san,” Tajima said, nodding to me. It took me a full second to realize he was not addressing my mother. Even at work, people had called me by my first name. “It’s good to see you here, but I didn’t think your mother was interested in selling her land.”

  “She’s not. Sorry. I’m going to be living in town for a while, so I thought I’d come and learn what this business was all about.”

  Tajima smiled. “That’s good to hear! I like to see our citizens concerned with the welfare of the town.”

  I swallowed down a confession. I should have been concerned with the welfare of the town, but I was more concerned with my best friend not going to jail.

  “I was wondering where the money goes that the town makes in this exchange? Does it pay for… infrastructure, or does it pay for salaries, or…?” I let the question trail off.

  “That information is on page thirty-five. You’ll see how we’ve designated the money we’ll earn from these deals. Most goes to pay for city infrastructure updates and education.”

  I returned to the handout and flipped to page thirty-five. Everything seemed above board, but how could I know if they were being honest or not?

  I tried to imagine Shin Tajima funneling money to pay for hookers and drugs, to pay off gangsters, or a blood debt of some kind, and it just didn’t stick. His family had lived here for generations, his kids successful, and his social credit strong. I’d look into it, but I couldn’t see him smothering Akiko’s dad in the middle of the day.

  Fujita Takahara on the other hand — I didn’t know him at all.

  “Is that it, Yamagawa-san?” Tajima’s question crashed into my daydream of Takahara wearing his expensive suit, his high-end watch, driving his BMW, and paying off yakuza for protection. That I could believe.

  “What happens to the people who don’t want to sell?”

  “I don’t understand your question,” Tajima replied, seeming to be genuinely perplexed. I glanced at Takahara and a small smile crossed his face before he leaned back in his chair.

  “Will those who don’t sell be forced from their land by legal matters?”

  Both men squirmed in their seats and eyed each other.

  “Absolutely not. Midori Sankaku has plenty of land to get started on their projects, and the offer will remain open for as long as necessary.” Tajima wiped his hand across his forehead and cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

  “That’s it. Thank you.” I didn’t know how to ask any more questions without sounding impolite, and Tajima’s facial expressions showed his unhappiness. I couldn’t push any further.

  Takahara, sitting at the table, stared me down as I locked eyes with him. His cool and aloof demeanor echoed off of him as he smoothed his hair and raised an eyebrow. Now, he knew who I was, that my mother was not selling him our land, and that I was nosey.

  Good job, Mei. I had just put myself into harm’s way.

  Chapter Twelve

  I left the meeting feeling unsettled. It wasn’t every day I came head-to-head with powerful people. Back in Tokyo, at my job — well, my old job — I had never even met my boss’s boss. I worked on a team of peers and was rarely ever called into my supervisor's office, so I had no experience dealing with people in positions of power. Speaking to the mayor and this high-up guy at Midori Sankaku made me uneasy. I hoped Mom didn’t get into trouble for what I did. I’d hate to ruin her reputation around town.

  The pitch black sky hovered over me, and with the lights of Tokyo far away, millions of stars floated above. I stopped just outside of the main strip, pulled my sweater around me tight, and stared up at the heavens. I’d always wanted to paint the night sky or nighttime scenery. I used to concentrate on landscapes and objects, still life, but always well-lit and during the daytime. Shadows of objects in the night radiated a beauty I loved and craved. I had been dreaming a lot about painting lately, what with Chiyo buying my painting of Mount Fuji, and it was time I went into the barn and found my supplies. It looked like I’d have some spare hours on my hands now that I was home for good. Forcing myself to do it would be best.

  As I walked home, I texted Mom to update her on my night. I didn’t want her to worry about me, so I kept the communications’ lines open at all times. I had a good thing going with her, and I didn’t want to wreck it by being rude. She was my lifeline now, and I wanted to show her I appreciated it.

  As I slipped my phone into my purse, I noticed lights approaching me from behind. I stepped off the road more into the gravel and waited for the car to pass me.

  “Yamagawa-san, can I speak with you for a moment?”

  I shivered in the cool night as I saw who drove the car, Fujita Takahara. He’d pulled up next to me, his window down, and mirror light on so I could see his face.

  I glanced left and right on the road, keenly aware I was alone. My heart rate picked up pace, panic seizing my brain and squeezing it tight. I’d always believed my hometown was safe. No one had ever reported break-ins or muggings. Now, with strangers around, I didn’t know who to trust.

  Takahara pulled his car to the side of the road, stopped, and stepped out. I turned towards home and kept walking, ignoring him as best I could. I wasn’t going to stand there and let him do something to me.

  “Yamagawa-san! Please wait.”

  I couldn’t ignore him with his car only a few meters away. He would just drive after me if I kept going, so I halted in his headlights, staying in the light so I could see him. He approached me slowly, a small smile upon his face. He looked younger than he did in the community center under the fluorescent light. Maybe mid-thirties? His smile, genuine or not, unnerved me. The fact that he was approaching me here and not at the community center gave me pause. I wished I knew self-defense.

  “What do you want?” I folded my arms over my chest and waited, hoping I looked strong and intimidating.

  He chuckled, running his hand through his hair, perhaps a nervous tick because he did the same thing when I asked questions of Tajima.

  “Sorry. I know this is creepy, stopping you on a deserted road —”

  “Yeah, it’s creepy!” I widened my eyes and stepped away from him while he laughed again. “What do you want?”

  “I’m heading back to Tokyo and then to Singapore for a few days so I thought I’d try to catch you before this went on too long.”

  I tensed my muscles, ready to bolt.

  “Midori Sankaku has no desire to force people from their land. You see, I also grew up in a small town like this, but my hometown is even worse off than this place. They don’t even have a town council who is willing to do all of this work to revitalize the region.” He sighed, and my muscles relaxed. “What you have here is an amazing opportunity. We’re committed to growing the town and the region, and we’re committed to bringing the freshest possible produce to the local community.”

  I gazed off into the land that I knew had already been sold to Midori Sankaku. I remembered when farms used to produce wheat in those fields, but they’d been abandoned before I was even out of high school.

  “If people want to sell us their land, we want to buy it. But if they aim to stay and farm it themselves, then that’s the best possible option. Honestly.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  He sighed, his shoulders dipping. “I didn’t expect you to. I want you to know that my door is always open. You can come by and ask me anything, or…” He reached into his pocket and produced a business card that he presented to me with both hands. I bowed and took it with both ha
nds. “You can call me and speak with me. If you don’t want to talk with me, you can speak with my administrative assistant instead. She’s very knowledgeable about the whole business. For the time being, I have an office on the second floor of the community center. The address is on the card.”

  He backed away from me and bowed. I examined his business card again as he got in his car, pulled away from me, and headed back to town.

  I’d love to believe him, that their business had no ill intentions, but I knew how this worked in Japan. No one here liked to give up family land. It had belonged to our forefathers and the spirits of gods we’d loved for generations. We’d rather stay than go, but sometimes circumstances were unavoidable. It had always bothered me that so many people abandoned their land in our town, but with families to feed, it was the last possible option they were willing to take.

  Still, when land needed to be acquired for use, the government didn’t just take it, like they did in other countries. They’d tried that in the past and it led to riots. Instead, they would send in a team of people to butter up all the residents and sweet talk them until they were ready to sell. They wore those people down slowly, like water polishing a rock in a stream. Sometimes it would take a decade or more, but they wouldn’t give up until everyone had sold their land. How long had Midori Sankaku been working on Chikata? I flicked the business card in my fingers, concentrating on Takahara’s diminishing taillights. Probably two years now?

  I couldn’t be sure if it was a good or bad thing they chose Chikata.

  Pulling my feet from where they grew roots on the road, I turned and walked home. I had more digging to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I filled Akiko in on everything that happened the next evening while sitting at her kotatsu, drinking shochu, and eating a pizza I picked up before coming over. Pizza was a big deal for us. Only one place in town made it, and they were always swamped when I went there.