Mom smiled and clapped her hands. “Fantastic. Mei-chan and I will wait out here for Goro-san. We’ve been invited to help out, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“Please sit down and wait. Goro-san has told us of your bet, Mei-san. What a ridiculous man!” He laughed. “He’ll be out soon.”
I grimaced as Mom and I sat down on the bench. Goro had been gossiping, and they were excited to see me run the 3K in my underwear, no doubt. As soon as this rain let up outside, I needed to get out for a run or I could forget about that good reputation I wanted to build. I thought going out with and getting dumped by Yasahiro would do me in. Turned out, I had done a pretty good job of sabotaging myself all on my own.
“Looks like we’ll be waiting for a while,” Mom said, peering down the hallway through the tiny window in the locked door. “I’m sure they have a lot to talk about.”
Great. And here I had no phone to distract me. I could only daydream.
What was the first thing that popped into my head? Yasahiro, of course. I should have been thinking about who killed Akiko’s father, and the suspects that we still had to vet, but it’d been ages since anyone flirted with me. Had he flirted with me? Or was he just being kind? I couldn’t say since I didn’t know him very well. If I’d had more time to observe him, I would have the chance to see if he was like that with everybody. If he was, I would know not to take his little gestures seriously. Maybe he was a touchy-feely kind of guy. I could imagine him walking the streets of Paris and helping little old ladies with their groceries. I saw him drinking coffee at a tiny café and laughing at some person’s joke, reaching across to touch them on the arm. I imagined him kissing people on the cheek to say hello or goodbye. That’s what they did in Europe. I’d wanted to brush up on my English so I watched American shows online for the last five years. Sometimes the girls kissed each other on the cheek hello, and the guys would shake hands, but that was about it. I should’ve watched European television, but I sucked at French.
Mom shifted next to me, leaning over to my ear. “Should I ask you what’s going on between you and Yasahiro-san?”
“No.”
Mom The Mind-Reader hummed and shook her head but didn’t ask me anything more.
My thoughts wandered back to the side of the road when Takahara drove up and creeped me out by following me home. He gave me his business card and seemed sincere about Midori Sankaku’s motives for their involvement in Chikata.
“So when do they break ground on this greenhouse Midori Sankaku is building?” I asked Mom.
“I’ve heard they have enough land to break ground in February. If it gets too cold, then it’ll be moved to March. They need to pour a concrete slab and it can’t be done in this weather.” She waved her hand at the door and the rain falling outside. “But it can’t be done in freezing temperatures either. Anyway, if they secured Kano and Senahara’s land, they could also build administration buildings there. In the meantime, the people who will run the construction operation will work out of the grocery’s main offices and a temporary building about two blocks from here. It’s not ideal, but it was the best they could do.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Mom tapped her ear with her finger. “I hear all and see all. Don’t think I didn’t notice the paint on your fingers when Yasahiro-san dropped you off today.” Mom squealed and smiled like a little girl. Embarrassment radiated from my pores as a few people in the front office smiled at her. “I’m so happy to see you painting again.”
I dropped my voice. “Don’t broadcast it to the whole town, okay?” I lightly punched her on the shoulder. “Hey, how come you never told me how famous you are?”
“Me?” She pulled back in surprise. “You must be joking. I’m not famous. I’m not even online.”
“You should be. Yasahiro-san told me that people write to you all the time looking for help with traditional Japanese food, and that he was honored to work with you.”
Mom blushed. I knew where I got that trait from. “Stop. It’s nothing. I’m just passing on my knowledge like Grandma did for me.”
We sat in silence for another fifteen minutes when movement at the end of the hall caught our attention. Goro left an interview room and headed down the hallway. The door buzzed and he exited into the waiting area.
“Mei-san, Yamagawa-san, I’m glad you could make it down to talk about Akiko.” He gestured to a conference room, off to the opposite side of the hallway he just came from. I took one last glance towards the room Akiko was in, but I couldn’t see her. I hoped she knew I would do everything I could to help her out.
Goro poured us each a cup of hot green tea and we sat at the table.
“I’m guessing Mei-chan told you about what’s going on with Akiko-san. First, we called the visiting nurse service she works for, and they said they could verify she saw all her patients because that’s what she reported.” He sighed, turning his cup in his hand. “But then we went to speak with her patients, and they couldn’t remember anything.”
“This is so hard to believe.” Mom shook her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “We’d like to help in any way we can.”
“Hmmm,” Goro said, sipping at his tea. “You know it’s tradition to allow the community to help with evidence gathering and apprehending criminals, so I’m willing to let the bet go if we can work together.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, though I would still participate in that run. I needed something to focus on.
Mom hummed, staring out the window. “I’ve heard the biggest sticking points are that Akiko-san’s whereabouts during the day of the crime can’t be verified, and that she was feeling down for the last few months. While I can’t account for her state of mind, I’m sure the people she saw every day could speak to her upbeat and happy attitude. Her father’s health had been failing this last year and she was doing everything she could to help him feel better. He spoke to me about it on several occasions.”
“I was thinking,” I said, leaning forward, “I’d be happy to go visit the elderly patients she was supposed to be taking care of on the day of the murder. Perhaps with some baked goods and tea, we could smooth over their worries and help bring back the events of the day?”
Goro took out a notepad and began to jot something down. “We should do it together. Yamagawa-san, you probably know some of her patients?”
“I do,” Mom replied. “I’m not sure if I know the ones she was supposed to see that day, but it may be that I do.”
“All right then.” Goro closed his notepad. “I’m busy all day tomorrow, so would you be willing to visit these people on Saturday? Kumi hates it when I work on the weekends, but I’d like to get going on this case as soon as possible, so we can send Akiko-san home. She won’t leave until she’s completely cleared.”
I smiled at Akiko’s need to be vindicated. She always had a keen sense of justice.
Mom nodded, satisfied. “Akiko-san could never hurt another person. If she did, I would suspect she had been possessed by a fox.”
Goro laughed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that defense more than once around here. Senahara-san loves to blame everything he does while drunk on foxes.”
“I have an idea,” Mom said, finishing her tea. “Let’s visit these patients early in the morning, no later than 11:00. Often, with older people going through dementia or Alzheimer’s, they’re more lucid in the morning. This is why the majority of my cooking classes are in the morning.”
“A good idea. I hadn’t thought of that. I believe we visited them in the evenings.” Goro’s face scrunched as he flipped back in his notebook. “Yes, we did. Just before dinner. Maybe that’s it. Okay, I’ll be in touch tomorrow to make definite plans. I’m sure we can get this worked out. Let’s remember to keep this from being spread around town. We usually don’t like to make arrests until the prefecture prosecutor is satisfied with the evidence and we have a verified confession. Akiko-san is here to help, and we don’t want anyone get
ting the wrong idea about her.”
We rose from the table, and for the first time in a week, I felt like we were actually getting somewhere. If we could verify her alibi, everything would be okay.
But if we did that, then who was the real killer?
If Akiko didn’t commit the crime, and I honestly believed she didn’t, then I needed to figure out who did. The Japanese criminal justice system almost exclusively relied on confessions, and the conviction rate neared ninety-nine percent because the prosecutors didn’t bother to bring someone to court unless they confessed. Confessions in Japan were made of gold, but only if the suspect could provide details about the murder no one else knew about. I had grown up reading detective novels and watching the TV Asahi drama, Aibō, that portrayed detectives in Tokyo, but then I started watching CSI and Law & Order a few years ago and saw what the legal system was like in America. They were so different from us. We didn’t even have jury trials in Japan, so their system was almost made for dramas. I was glued to my computer every day for a solid year.
After dinner at home, Mom and I grabbed a bottle of saké and walked across the road to see if Daichi Senahara was home. He was the only other suspect I could think of, so we needed to make sure he wasn’t the actual killer.
I rang the bell as the sun set and prayed he was still at home. Maybe he’d already left for Izakaya Jūshi for the evening, but his car sat in the driveway and lights warmed the windows of his house. Perhaps he’d walked into town and left the lights on? I didn’t think so.
The door opened and answered all of my questions.
“Mei-chan? Tsukiko-san? What are you doing here?” He smiled and stepped to the side to let us in. “Mei-chan, I heard you were home, but I haven’t seen you around. How are you?”
“I’m good, Senahara-san.” I stepped into his house with Mom behind me and felt relieved to find it in pretty good order. He’d always been the type that bordered on hoarding with his collection of old appliances and newspapers stacked up against the walls, but it looked like he’d kept them under control the past few years. His usual belongings stood in their rightful spots, his favorite scroll up on the wall and his katana, a samurai sword, below it. The house smelled musty but didn’t appear different from the times I visited him as a kid, excepting the brand-new flat screen TV blasting NHK from the living room. He was probably half deaf.
“We brought a bottle of saké and thought we could catch up.” I smiled as I raised the saké in my hand. “Do you have the time?”
“Sure, sure. It’s good of you to bring something by!” He shuffled off to his kitchen, and Mom and I sat down at his kotatsu and tried to get comfortable. I had never been good friends with the old man because his own sons were five years older than me. But Mom had always liked him, so it was good to have her around.
“Start with the pleasantries, Mei-chan,” Mom whispered at me, and I nodded back to her.
Senahara brought out three saké cups and a package of rice crackers, and set them on the kotatsu. I cracked open the bottle and poured for him and Mom. Mom poured for me. We raised our cups, said “Kampai,” and drank.
I started with the pleasantries as Mom suggested, how’s your health, how’s your family, how’s your farm, and we go on and on, to the point where my eyes cross and my insides dissolve to dust.
“Akira-chan is doing well. His wife just had their second child, too. Oh, let me get the photos. He sent them to me in the mail since I’m so bad at this whole smart phone thing.”
I rolled my eyes at Mom as he turned away and grabbed photos of his grandkids to show us. I admitted they were cute, and I smiled genuinely at their happy faces.
“They’re adorable. You must be so proud.”
“I am,” he said, returning the photos to his pile next to the kotatsu. “He was always a good kid. I’m grateful.”
“I’m grateful my Mei-chan has returned home.” Mom squeezed my hand and I dropped eye contact, embarrassed by her praise and the shame I felt. I still hoped every day I would find some reason to return to the city, that my life as a farmer’s daughter was not set in stone. But each day it faded little by little, and it was replaced with… acceptance? I couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t there yet. It hadn’t even been three weeks. I figured I’d be back in Tokyo by the spring.
“It’s been a crazy few weeks, that’s for sure.” I squeezed Mom’s hand and turned to Senahara. “I suppose you heard about Kano-san? I saw you at the funeral, and I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk then.”
“I heard a rumor he was killed, but I didn’t believe it. Who would kill him?” He shook his head and scratched his hairy ear. “He was a good man. A good a friend as any could ever have. We used to drink together all the time.” He threw back another cup of saké and I refilled it. “Who do you think could’ve done it?”
“We’re not sure,” Mom said, sighing and sipping at her saké. “We were hoping you had some insight?”
“Me? Why me?” He pulled back with his hand to his chest.
“For the reasons you just said,” I interrupted. “You were a friend to him for a long time and knew him well. I’m surprised no one has asked you about him yet.”
“Hmmm, I suppose so. He was a good man.”
“He was.” I paused and filled up the cups. “Did he ever speak to you about selling to Midori Sankaku? It seems to me that the Midori Sankaku business might be at the center of these problems.”
He shook his head a few times, his mouth turning to a frown. “Ever since they came to town, our lives have been in upheaval. I wish they had never come.”
“Come now,” Mom crooned at him, touching his arm. “They seem like good people, willing to invest in our town and see it grow. It’s been hard to watch the land around us turn wild.”
“That it has. I wish the transition had been easier. I’ve been considering selling. My daughter-in-law said she’d feel better if I moved in with them.” He paused for a long moment, looking at the TV blaring out news programs at the other end of the room, but not really watching it. “But it would be hard to leave here.”
“Do you think Kano-san would have sold to Midori Sankaku?” I sipped from the saké cup, hoping to calm my nerves with the alcohol.
“Kano-san? No. No, he would never. He was saving that land for Akiko-chan.”
My heart beat swiftly at this news.
“He was so pleased with her. She saved him from suffering so many times, always diagnosing his ailments and getting the right treatment for him. He was going to leave her the estate.”
“Really?” Mom sat forward, engaged in everything Senahara had to say.
“He had an appointment with an estate lawyer at the end of the month.” He shook his head, regretful. “He never did make it. Hopefully Akiko-chan has no problem with that.”
My stomach plummeted, straight to the soil below the house. I doubted she’d ever know how much her father appreciated her.
“Might I ask, do you know why or how he was sick?” This was a tough question to ask when so many people don’t want to say, “I was puking my guts out all night,” or “I was on the toilet every day for several weeks,” or other such things deemed “too much information.”
But I had to know. So many people had said he was sick for a long time, and Akiko struggled with his health on a daily basis, but she never said what was wrong with him. Just that he was “sick.”
I filled up Senahara’s cup again, hoping the saké would loosen his tongue. “He said his stomach hurt all the time and he had troubles eating and keeping food down. He lost a lot of weight, but recently, he was feeling better and gaining everything back. Akiko-chan was pleased.”
This sounded like the perfect daughter, the best friend I’d always had.
“So she never said what was wrong with him?” Mom asked, prodding him one more time. Her face burned bright red. Even though Mom was a skilled drinker, any alcohol sent her skin to flames.
“No. Just that he was feeling better, and I was
relieved, so I didn’t ask. Maybe I should have?”
“It’s okay. It probably wasn’t anything severe,” Mom assured him.
But I wasn’t so sure. Everyone had mentioned he was sick the past year and he was recently feeling better. Then he was killed? It felt too coincidental.
“Had anyone been giving him any problems lately? Did he mention anything when you two were together?”
Senahara leaned back in his floor chair, stroking his wrinkled and stubbled chin. Only a week ago, I wondered if he killed Kano in a fit of rage because Kano planned to sell his land. But sitting with him now, I could picture him with Kano, laughing and drinking, having a grand old time, like they’d always had for the last twenty years. Best friends didn’t up and kill each other. At least, I couldn’t imagine that happening.
“I probably shouldn’t mention this…” Senahara whispered, and I focused on the conversation, picked up the saké bottle, and refilled everyone’s cups again. “Thank you, Mei-chan.” He sipped from his cup and set it down to wring his hands. “I often saw Tama-chan come over to the house during the day, when he was supposed to be at school teaching, and I could hear them yelling at each other from over here. Shinzo always brushed it off. He said Tama-chan was giving him a hard time. He never spoke of what they were fighting about, and my hearing is going, so I couldn’t make out what they were shouting.”
Mom and I glanced at each other. Akiko had never mentioned Tama came by during the day to see their father. But maybe she’d never known. If I were to hide things from my sister, I would be sure she wasn’t around before I did those things. Kano had been a quiet man, and many people in town would’ve called him a model citizen. Tama appeared to have problems with his own father, but none of us ever saw any issues with the family.
That’s not to say that there weren’t problems, just that they did an exceptional job of hiding them.
The Daydreamer Detective Page 15
