Kindaichi had been listening attentively to Furudate’s increasingly emotional words, but at that point, he suddenly lifted his eyebrows. “Kiyo’s avoiding being seen?”
“That’s right.”
“He doesn’t want people to see his face?”
“That’s right, Mr. Kindaichi. Haven’t you heard about it yet?”
With a blank look, Kindaichi shook his head. Furudate leaned forward over the tea table. “Actually, I heard this from one of the Inugamis’ servants: Matsuko and Kiyo returned to the estate suddenly last night without any warning. They must have come from Tokyo on the last train. It was quite late when the bell rang, and the houseboy in charge of the front entrance went to open the gate, wondering who on earth could be visiting at that hour. He was astonished to find Matsuko waiting there. Behind her, a man came in through the gate with the collar of his coat turned up around his neck, and this man, the houseboy said, had his head covered completely with something like a black hood.”
Kindaichi’s eyes widened in astonishment. Listening to the lawyer’s story, he felt his blood go cold.
“A hood?”
“Yes, and as the houseboy stood there in surprise, Matsuko said simply, ‘It’s Kiyo,’ and quickly led her son from the foyer back to her own sitting room. Of course, the rest of the family heard from the houseboy what had happened, and they were all in an uproar. After all, Takeko, Umeko, and their families had been standing by at the villa, waiting impatiently for weeks for the two of them to return. They immediately rushed to Matsuko’s room, which is in a far annex of the house, but she refused to let them see Kiyo, telling them that both she and Kiyo were tired and would talk to them in the morning. That was last night, but no one has yet seen Kiyo’s face. Just one person, a maid, saw someone she assumed to be Kiyo coming out of the bathroom, but he had a black hood over his head even then. Apparently, the hood has two holes where the eyes are, and when she saw his eyes glint from behind them, it was so spooky, she said, she thought she was going to faint.”
A feeling of the utmost delight began growing inside Kindaichi. Something was going on: Matsuko’s and Kiyo’s inexplicable stay in Tokyo, Kiyo hiding his face. He smelled something not right, something abnormal. The more the case reeked of the unnatural, the more strongly Kindaichi’s professional appetite was whetted.
Kindaichi enthusiastically scratched his head. “But, Mr. Furudate, Kiyo can’t hide his face forever. He has to take off his hood sooner or later to prove that he really is Kiyo Inugami.”
“Of course. Take today, for example. I can’t read the will until I make certain that the man who has returned is indeed Kiyo. So I intend to insist that he take off his hood. But when I imagine what we might find beneath it, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
Kindaichi frowned for a time, pondering the situation, but then said, “Well, it might be nothing to worry about at all. I mean, he’s been in battle, so his face might be scarred, or something like that.” Abruptly he leaned over the tea table. “But changing the subject to Mr. Wakabayashi, have you found out to whom he leaked the contents of the will?”
“Not yet. The police seem to have studied his diary and so on carefully, but they haven’t any leads yet.”
“But who among the Inugamis was on the closest terms with him? In other words, who had the best opportunity to bribe him?”
“I really have no idea,” Furudate admitted, furrowing his brow. “All the members of the clan stayed in Nasu for some time after old Sahei died, and since then they’ve gathered numerous times for memorial services. So, anyone who might have wanted to bribe Wakabayashi would have had the chance.”
“But even Mr. Wakabayashi wouldn’t let himself be bribed by just anyone. Isn’t there someone in particular, someone special, he would go out of his way for?”
It was a casual question, but Furudate appeared thunderstruck, catching his breath in surprise. He remained staring off into space for some time, but eventually took out his handkerchief and started to wipe his neck nervously, saying, “No, no. That can’t be. After all, she’s the one who’s been in danger so many times recently.”
It was Kindaichi’s turn to be surprised. He stared at Furudate’s face, transfixed. Presently, he whispered in a hoarse voice, “M-Mr. Furudate, are you talking about that woman Tamayo?”
“Well, yes. It’s clear from Wakabayashi’s diary that he was secretly in love with her. I’m sure he would have done anything she asked him to do.”
“Mr. Wakabayashi is supposed to have stopped by the Inugami house right before coming here to see me. Did he see Tamayo at that time?”
“I don’t know anything about that, but even if he did… a beautiful woman like that? Giving him a poisoned cigarette? No, I can’t believe it…” Furudate stammered as he wiped his sweaty brow. “Besides, at that time, the entire Inugami clan was gathered in that house—except Matsuko, of course, who was in Tokyo.”
“Mr. Furudate, who is that man named Monkey? He seemed terribly devoted to Tamayo.”
“Oh, him. He’s—” Furudate glanced at his watch hurriedly and said, “That late already? Mr. Kindaichi, I’m sorry but I must be leaving. They’re waiting for me at the villa.”
“Mr. Furudate,” Kindaichi called to the lawyer, running after him as he rushed from the room carrying his portfolio. “You can tell me the contents of the will after you’ve read it at the Inugami villa, can’t you?”
Furudate stopped in his tracks with a start and glanced back at Kindaichi. “Of course. There wouldn’t be any problem with that. I’ll stop by on my way back and fill you in.”
With those parting words, Furudate, portfolio under his arm, swiftly descended the stairs as if running away from something. Little did Kindaichi know then, but he would be given the chance to learn the contents of the will much sooner than he expected.
The Three Heirlooms
After Furudate left, Kindaichi remained on the balcony for a while, leaning back in his wicker chair with an empty look on his face. The autumn had grown deep in this mountainous region, and a pleasant breeze swept shimmering over the azure-green surface of the lake. It was high noon, and across the way, the autumn sun glittered on the stained glass windows of the Inugamis’ European-style villa. Everything was peaceful, a moment caught in a painted landscape. Yet, as he gazed at the enormous building on the lake, Kindaichi could not help but feel a chill run up his spine.
At that very moment, Sahei’s will—a will whose contents, according to Furudate, were explosive—was about to be read. What would happen inside that elegant mansion when Sahei’s last instructions were made known?
Kindaichi again picked up The Life of Sahei Inugami. For an hour or so, he sat leafing here and there through its pages, but looked up in surprise when a voice suddenly called from the direction of the lake. A single boat was docked at the pier of the inn, and inside it, standing and waving, was the man called Monkey. Kindaichi frowned and leaned over the railing, because Monkey seemed to be beckoning to him.
“Are you calling me?”
Monkey nodded in affirmation with an exaggerated gesture. With a strange sense of apprehension, Kindaichi hastened at top speed down the stairs and out to the pier behind the inn.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Furudate told me to come get you,” Monkey answered in his usual brusque manner.
“Mr. Furudate? Has something happened at the Inugamis’?”
“Not that I know. He said he’s going to read the will now, so he wants you to come if you like.”
“Oh, I see. I’ll be just a minute. Wait here for me, will you?”
Hurrying back to his room, Kindaichi changed out of the inn’s robe into his own kimono and hakama trousers. As soon as he returned to the boat and got in, Monkey started rowing.
“Monkey, do the family members know I’m coming?”
“Yeah, it was the Missus’s orders.”
“The Missus? You mean, Mrs. Matsuko, who came back last night?”
>
“That’s right.”
Furudate must have appealed to Matsuko, citing what had happened to Wakabayashi in her absence as well as his own disturbing premonitions. He must have suggested to her that they invite Kindaichi to be present, to help avert any evil incidents that might arise after the reading of the will.
Kindaichi’s heart pounded. In any case, he was happy that he was being presented with the opportunity to meet the Inugami clan so soon.
“Monkey, has Miss Tamayo been alright since the problem with the boat?”
“Yeah, thanks to you.”
“That boat, do all the Inugamis go out on the lake in that boat?”
“Nah, that’s Missy’s boat. She’s the only one who uses that one.”
Monkey’s answer disturbed Kindaichi. If that boat was used exclusively by Tamayo, then without question the person who bored a hole in it was after her life and hers alone. “Monkey, you said something strange the other day, that Miss Tamayo has had peculiar mishaps several times recently.”
“Yeah.”
“When did these mishaps start occurring?”
“When? Oh, I guess about the end of spring.”
“Right after Mr. Inugami died.”
“Yeah.”
“Who on earth would play such pranks on her? Do you have any ideas, Monkey?”
“If I knew that,” Monkey’s eyes flashed, “I’d make sure they didn’t get away with it.”
“What exactly is your relationship with Miss Tamayo?”
“She’s my very, very precious Missy. Mr. Inugami told me to protect her with my life,” Monkey proclaimed proudly, baring his teeth in a savage grin. Looking at the powerful, rock-like chest and thick arms of this ugly giant, Kindaichi felt queasy. God forbid this colossus should consider him an enemy. No doubt Monkey always guarded Tamayo like a faithful dog would, and if anyone should so much as try to harm a hair on her head, he would immediately pounce on the culprit and break that person’s neck.
“By the way, Monkey, I heard Kiyo returned last night.”
“Yeah” Monkey grew taciturn again.
“Did you see him?”
“Nah, nobody’s seen him yet.”
“Did Kiyo—” As Kindaichi began to speak, the boat passed through the sluice gate and glided into the boathouse of the Inugami estate.
Exiting the boathouse, Kindaichi was astounded by the huge number of large-bloomed, potted chrysanthemums placed everywhere throughout the extensive grounds. Even though Kindaichi was not particularly given to botanical appreciation, he could not help but marvel at these magnificent specimens at the height of their glory. In one corner of the grounds there was even a chrysanthemum field covered with a latticed paper screen to protect the flowers from frost.
“How magnificent! Whose work is this?”
“I take care of them. The chrysanthemum’s one of the Inugami heirlooms.”
“Heirlooms?” Kindaichi repeated, but Monkey began walking rapidly ahead without answering and led him into the foyer.
“Guest’s here,” called Monkey, and a maid immediately appeared from somewhere inside the house.
“Please come in. They’re waiting for you.” She led Kindaichi down a long, long corridor that seemed never to end, then on through a maze of other corridors that opened onto countless tatami-mat rooms. Not a soul, however, was to be seen in any of them, and the entire house, in tense expectation of the momentous event, was as hushed as a graveyard.
The maid finally reached the room where the Inugami clan had assembled. “Your guest has arrived,” she said, and after dropping to her knees and bowing slightly, hands touching the floor, she slid open the door. At that instant, Kindaichi felt all eyes turn simultaneously to him. Furudate acknowledged him with his eyes and said, “Thank you for coming. Please have a seat over there. I hope you don’t mind being seated at the back of the room.”
When Kindaichi bowed slightly and sat down, Furudate continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. Kosuke Kindaichi, whom I was just telling you about.” Each of the Inugamis acknowledged Kindaichi with a slight nod of the head. Kindaichi waited until everyone’s eyes had left him and were focused on the lawyer once again, and then he slowly glanced around the room.
The large room in which they were seated had been made by removing the partitions between two twelve-mat rooms. Placed on the plain wood altar at the head of the room was a photograph of the late Sahei Inugami, adorned with large chrysanthemum blooms. In front of the altar sat three young men wearing formal black kimonos. But the sight of the one sitting in the seat of honor at the farthest end made Kindaichi’s heart pound uneasily. The figure wore a black hood over his head, with two holes cut for his eyes. He hung his head and gazed downward, however, so that Kindaichi could not see past the openings. This had to be the recently returned Kiyo.
The faces of the two young men seated next to Kiyo—Také, the son of Sahei’s second daughter, Takeko, and Tomo, the only child of the third daughter, Umeko—were familiar to Kindaichi from their photographs in The Life of Sahei Inugami. Také was a stocky man, as wide as he was tall, while Tomo was slender and seemed to be of delicate constitution. Také sat with a taciturn, haughty expression that revealed his disdain for all, while Tomo, looking somehow cunning and insincere, shifted his eyes ceaselessly from place to place. Their personalities were in sharp contrast to each other.
Seated by herself somewhat apart from these three men was Tamayo, elegant and correct. Quiet and reserved in this way, her attractiveness was even more remarkable. Unlike the other day, she was wearing a black kimono with a bit of white showing around the neck. She looked older, but her beauty now had an almost spiritual aura.
Furudate sat slightly apart from Tamayo. Facing Tamayo were, in order, Matsuko; Takeko and her husband, Toranosuke; their daughter, Sayoko; and Umeko and her husband, Kokichi.
Sayoko, too, was quite attractive and would have been considered pretty enough if Tamayo were not in the same room. Compared directly with Tamayo’s rare beauty, however, her physical attributes paled badly. Sayoko herself seemed aware of this, for the looks she cast at Tamayo were filled with tremendous hostility. Her beauty concealed thorns.
Furudate, with a light cough, took up the thick envelope he had in his lap. “I will now read the last will and testament of Mr. Sahei Inugami. But before that, I would like to make a request of Mrs. Matsuko.”
Matsuko looked at Furudate without a word. She was a middle-aged woman of fifty or so who seemed used to getting her own way.
“As you know,” Furudate continued, “I am authorized to open and read this will only when Mr. Kiyo has been repatriated and all the family members are gathered together.”
“I know. Kiyo is sitting right there, as you see.”
“But…”—the lawyer spoke somewhat falteringly—“I cannot tell if this is really… Of course, I am not doubting your word, but if I could just take a look at his face.”
Matsuko’s eyes blazed intensely. “What? Are you suggesting, Mr. Furudate, that Kiyo is an imposter?” Her voice was deep and husky, and had something malicious about it.
“No, no. That’s not what I mean. What about the rest of you? Do you mind if we let the matter drop?”
“Of course we mind,” Takeko interjected immediately. In contrast to her elder half-sister, Matsuko, who had a thin frame that looked as strong as bamboo, the double-chinned Takeko was short and heavy, like a small mountain, and looked full of vitality. Yet, she had none of the kind-heartedness often found in buxom matrons. She seemed as mean-spirited as her half-sister. “Umeko, what do you think? Don’t you think Kiyo should take off his hood and let us see his face?”
“Of course,” Umeko answered without hesitation. Of the three half-sisters, she was the most attractive, but she looked the most venomous of the three as well.
Takeko’s husband, Toranosuke, and Umeko’s husband, Kokichi, expressed their agreement. Toranosuke was a fiftyish, heavy-set man with a florid complexion, an arrogant
air, and a menacing look in his eyes. It was obvious that Také had inherited his physique and demeanor from his parents. Compared to Toranosuke, Umeko’s husband, Kokichi, was much smaller and paler and had what at first looked like a mild-mannered air, but the restless eyes, identical to those of his son, revealed the evil in his mind. A faint smile never left his thin lips.
The room grew hushed for a moment, and then Matsuko suddenly screeched, “Kiyo, take off your hood for them!”
The hooded head jerked. Then, after a long hesitation, Kiyo’s trembling right hand rose and gradually began to raise the hood from his face. Kiyo’s face—yes, Kindaichi remembered it from the photograph in The Life of Sahei Inugami—but what a peculiar face! Its features were frozen, completely immobile. The face was—to use a sinister comparison—like that of a dead man. It was a face that was lifeless, devoid of human warmth.
Sayoko screamed, and the room was hurled into confusion, as Matsuko’s hysterical voice, furious with rage, rang over the din. “Kiyo received a horrible wound, so I had that mask made for him. That’s why we stayed in Tokyo so long. I had a mask made to look just the way Kiyo’s face used to be. Kiyo, raise your mask a little for them!”
Kiyo touched his chin with his trembling hand and began to pull the mask up over his chin as if peeling the skin off his face. Sayoko again screamed sharply. Kindaichi could not keep his knees from shaking. He felt something heavy in the pit of his stomach, as if he’d swallowed lead.
From beneath the precisely made rubber mask appeared a jaw and lips that looked identical to those on the mask. They looked perfectly normal. When Kiyo raised the mask further, however, Sayoko screamed a third time.
The Inugami Curse Page 4
