“It’s not that I’m not sharing anything with them. It’s more case-by-case. Think about it—to the local police, Yukawa is just another civilian. They don’t know about his reputation, or even his nickname of Detective Galileo. It would never occur to them to ask him to help with their investigation. Yukawa’s powers of perception might be unparalleled, but he can’t use them without access to information, and we’re the only ones who can give him that. Which means that, with all due apologies to the prefectural police, getting valuable information to Yukawa has to be a top priority. Agreed?”
Kusanagi waited until, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Utsumi nod.
“Besides, given Galileo’s predilection for staying completely silent until he’s satisfied with his conclusions, we’re probably the only ones with the patience to use him in the first place.”
“Exactly. We’re the hands and the feet of the operation, and he’s the brain. As per usual.”
It was about twenty minutes later when Kusanagi pulled his car to a stop.
“You have everything we need on Senba, right?” Kusanagi asked. “A photo too, I hope?”
“Yes, though it was taken before he got out of jail.”
“That’ll do. Take this with you, too.” Kusanagi pulled the photo of Tsukahara out of his jacket pocket. “Good luck.”
He handed the photo to Utsumi, who stared blankly at it.
Kusanagi pointed out the front window. “Hop to it, recruit. This is the spot.”
A sign at the intersection just ahead of them read “Namidabashi Bridge.” Billboards and advertisements for cheap hotels were clustered thickly on the streets around them.
“Oh. Right,” Utsumi said, grabbing her shoulder bag and opening the door.
“No matter who you’re talking to, give them a good look at Tsukahara’s face.”
Utsumi nodded and pushed the door firmly shut.
TWENTY-THREE
It was a little after three in the afternoon when Nishiguchi brought Isobe and two of his men to the Green Rock Inn. He’d called ahead, so the Kawahatas and Narumi were waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. They had nervous looks on their faces that only worsened when they saw Isobe’s scowl.
Isobe began by questioning them in detail about the night that Tsukahara had disappeared. They must’ve been sick of telling the same story over and over again, but they answered every question thoroughly, and plainly. Nishiguchi had heard it so many times that he stopped paying attention about halfway through and instead stared at Narumi.
“Well then,” Isobe said after they had finished. “Could you show us the room where Mr. Tsukahara was staying?”
Setsuko stood. “I’ll be happy to take you. Right this way.”
“I’ll go too,” Shigehiro said, tapping with his cane as he followed Isobe and his men toward the elevator.
“Sorry to have to bother you so much about this,” Nishiguchi said to Narumi once they were alone. “The investigation’s really scaling up, now that they think it wasn’t an accident. And we’re getting more and more new people showing up at the department and telling us what to do.”
Narumi smiled weakly and shook her head. “It’s okay. I should apologize to you for sending you that e-mail. I know you’re busy.”
Nishiguchi waved a hand dismissively. “Not at all. I mean, I am busy, but it’s not like they give me anything important to do. Anyway, what did you want to ask?”
“Well,” Narumi said, wetting her lips while she considered her words for a moment. “Remember when you came to borrow our guest ledger because you wanted to find out why Tsukahara chose our inn? Well, I was just wondering if you ever found out.”
“Right, that. Actually, I was hoping we could borrow those ledgers for a bit longer. I still haven’t gotten through all of them.”
“So you haven’t found anything yet?”
“Not really. At least, no one who stayed here in the last two years seems to have any connection to Mr. Tsukahara. Maybe he chose the place on a whim. You’re listed on the local tourism association’s Web site.”
“Oh,” Narumi said; her eyes went down to the floor.
“Is something bothering you?” Nishiguchi asked.
“Not really,” Narumi said, a vague smile on her lips, “but you know we have a university professor staying with us: Mr. Yukawa. Well, he got a phone call the other day. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but he was standing at the counter and talking in a really loud voice, so…”
Nishiguchi frowned. He knew Yukawa was staying there, because it was on the case file. He might’ve caught a glimpse of the professor the other day, but he wouldn’t be able to identify him in a lineup. Was it possible that Yukawa was somehow involved?
“Anyway, it sounded like the call came from someone in the Tokyo Police Department,” Narumi said.
Nishiguchi stiffened. “Are you sure?”
“It was just something he said. ‘Why does someone from Tokyo care about a case way out here?’ He lowered his voice after that, so I didn’t hear anything more, and when I asked him about it, he said the call was from an old college friend. But he didn’t tell me what they talked about.”
“So this university professor and some detective from Tokyo are old friends?”
“Even if they are friends, isn’t it weird for someone from the Tokyo Police Department to call him all the way out here? Mr. Yukawa doesn’t have anything to do with the case, right? I started to wonder, because he was asking about us: about the Green Rock Inn, my parents, and me.”
Nishiguchi smiled. “I’m no expert on how they do things in Tokyo, but I doubt there’s any connection. I’m guessing this detective, or whoever it was, found out that a friend was staying out here and called to get his take on the case. Something like that.”
“I don’t know…” Narumi said, still frowning.
“Well, I wouldn’t be worried about it if I were you. It’s not good if one of your guests dies suddenly, but it’s not your fault, or your parents’. As far as the law’s concerned, you’re just an onlooker. There’s no need to worry,” Nishiguchi said.
He finished talking just as the elevator doors opened. Nishiguichi turned in time to see Isobe come out, his men trailing behind him. Isobe was wearing his customary scowl, but he didn’t look any more disgruntled than he had before going up to the room.
Behind him, Nishiguchi heard Narumi say, “Welcome back,” to someone in the lobby. He turned back around and saw a tall man wearing glasses in the process of taking off his shoes. Professor Yukawa, I presume.
Noticing the new arrival, Isobe turned to Setsuko, asking her a quick question before muttering, “Perfect timing,” and stepping toward the entrance. “Sorry, might I have a word?” Isobe said, flashing his badge at Yukawa.
“Yes?” Yukawa said, giving him a cold stare.
“I was hoping you could tell me about your whereabouts three nights ago. If you remember.”
Yukawa glanced at Narumi for a moment before saying, “From around eight o’clock to after ten, I was at a bar near the harbor. I ordered edamame, shiokara squid, and shochu on the rocks. Kuro Kirishima, I believe the brand was. At first I was joined by Mrs. Kawahata”—here he indicated Setsuko with a wave of his hand. “And later I was joined by her daughter.” He nodded in Narumi’s direction.
This was exactly what it said in the police report, of course.
“Did you see any unusual vehicles on your way to or from the bar?”
“Define unusual.”
“For instance, a vehicle parked by the side of the road with someone inside.”
Yukawa shrugged. “Not that I noticed.”
“I see, well, that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation,” Isobe said with a nod of his head.
“Do you mind if I ask a question?”
“What’s that?”
“Did you find the source of the carbon monoxide?”
Isobe’s eyes went wide. “How did you…”
“It was eas
y enough to surmise after seeing the forensics team in here last night. Did you find the source?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t say. That’s confidential information,” Isobe replied, his scowl deepening.
“Of course, I completely understand,” Yukawa said with a cheery smile and headed toward the elevator.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kyohei was almost through the current level of his video game when someone knocked on his door. The momentary distraction broke his focus, and the zombies started pouring out of the woodwork.
“Crap!” he yelped, mashing the controller with his thumbs, but it was too late. Lightly insulting music played, and the meter showed his remaining lives lost a bar.
“That’s so not fair,” he said, glaring at the screen before turning toward the door and shouting, “Come in. It’s not locked.”
The door opened slowly, and Yukawa poked his face through.
“Oh, hey, Professor,” Kyohei said, setting the game controller down. “What’s up?”
“May I come in?”
“Sure.”
Yukawa walked in, an unreadable expression on his face. He was wearing a dress shirt and his jacket, and had a bag in his hands.
“All done with work?” Kyohei asked.
“For today,” Yukawa said, walking over to the window. “Not that I have anything to show for it. It was all preparations before preparations for the actual test. You know the expression ‘Too many cooks in the kitchen’? Well, that applies here tenfold, and they’re not even cooks. More like nosy customers who think they know something about soufflés. That chief technology officer wouldn’t know a constructive comment if it…” Yukawa trailed off before looking up like he’d suddenly remembered where he was. “Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to be a raincloud.”
“No problem,” Kyohei said. “Sounds like work sucked.”
“Yes. Sucked. A little. Of course, working with other people always involves a certain amount of stress.”
“I get that. Even when I’m playing games with my friends, if there’s someone I don’t get along with very well, I don’t like doing co-op mode.”
“Pardon? Co-op?”
“Like cooperative—when you play a game with three or four people. Everyone has their own controller and you try to beat the game together.”
“Indeed,” Yukawa said, looking between Kyohei and the TV screen. “Are you good at games?”
“Pretty good.”
“You sound confident,” Yukawa said, staring at the screen. “Show me.”
“Now?”
“Yes. The game you were just playing.”
“I don’t like playing with other people watching. Especially grown-ups.”
“None of those adolescent hang-ups of yours. It’s a game, play it,” Yukawa said, sitting cross-legged on the floor behind Kyohei and folding his arms across his chest.
Kyohei shrugged, picked up the controller, and restarted his game. It took him a few minutes to get over being acutely aware of Yukawa’s presence behind him, but once he did, his usual focus returned.
He paused the game after making it through the level he’d died on earlier and looked over his shoulder. “Well, that was it.”
Yukawa nodded deeply. “You do appear rather skilled.”
“‘Appear’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know how difficult the game is, nor do I have anyone to compare you to. Thus, I lack sufficient data to properly assess your skill.”
“You try playing then, Professor,” Kyohei said, handing him the controller.
A bewildered look came over Yukawa’s face. “I’ll pass.”
“Why?”
“I prefer my trials and errors in the real world.”
“Oh, come on, give it a shot. Or maybe you’re chicken.” Kyohei grinned.
“I’m not ‘chicken.’”
“Then play. None of these adult hang-ups of yours.” Kyohei nudged Yukawa in the shoulder with the controller.
Yukawa grabbed it, a reluctant look on his face. “You’re going to have to tell me how to play.”
“It’s easy, just go with the flow,” Kyohei said, starting the game over.
“Hey, wait! You can’t just throw me to the wolves—” Yukawa squawked as his eyes widened behind his glasses and he stared at the screen.
“Not wolves, zombies,” Kyohei said, but the physicist’s thumbs were already furiously working the controller. Every muscle in his body was tensed.
Yukawa burned through his allotted three lives in less than a minute. Kyohei rolled on the tatami mats, laughing out loud.
“Wow, you really suck! Even my mom’s better than you. What was that? I’ve never even seen anyone bomb so hard.”
Yukawa set down the controller, his face expressionless. “That was very informative. As far as this game is concerned, you possess a much greater amount of skill than I do.”
Kyohei propped himself up on his elbows. “Sorry, Professor, but I’m not sure you’re the one I want grading me on games.”
“Speaking of which,” Yukawa said, suddenly pointing to a stack of thin notebooks on the table behind them. “What’s that?”
Kyohei sat further up and made a bitter face. “Japanese and math.”
“Summer homework?”
“Yeah, and that’s not even all of it.”
Kyohei pulled a cardboard box on the floor closer to him. The package had arrived the day after he got to the inn. It held a few changes of clothes, his games, and all of his dreaded homework.
“I have to do this life schedule thing. It’s where you plan out every day, and then you write down whether you did what you said you were going to do. It’s a total drag. I also have to do a book report. And then some self-study project … I’m not even sure what to do for that. I don’t get why they make us do all this stuff anyway. It’s supposed to be vacation, right? Don’t they know what vacation means?”
Yukawa picked up the book of math drills and flipped through the pages. “Looks like you haven’t even started yet. Are you sure you’ll finish on time?”
“Probably not. I’ll get home and Mom will yell at me the day before school starts and I’ll do it then. It’s easier that way, because in between the yelling she helps me by doing some of the problems.”
“I wouldn’t call that helping. I’d call that getting in your way,” Yukawa said. “She’s impeding your academic progress.”
“Yeah, but if I didn’t do my homework, I’d just get in trouble at school.”
“Then get in trouble. You’d learn a valuable lesson.”
“Easy for you to say,” Kyohei grumbled, reaching out to snatch the book of drills back from Yukawa. Just before his fingers touched the book, Yukawa pulled it away.
“How about I help you with your math? We can probably finish this workbook in two or three days that way.”
Kyohei sat up straight. “You’re going to do my math?”
“I said help, not do. What I’m offering is instruction. I will teach you how to properly approach the problems, so you can do it yourself.”
“You mean like a tutor?”
“I suppose you could call it that.”
“Blargh,” Kyohei said, making a face. “I didn’t come all the way out here just to study.”
“You have to do it sometime,” Yukawa said, opening the book of drills. “‘Find the sum of the angles of an eighteen-sided polygon,’” he read. “Someday, you’re going to have to be able to answer this question on your own. Graduate without learning how to do that, and you’ll get yourself into trouble later. The obvious solution is to learn how to solve it now. Besides, I’ve already helped you complete one of your homework requirements.”
“Huh? What’s that?”
“The rocket we used to see the bottom of the ocean. That was a perfect self-study project. I still have all the data, you only need to collate it and write it down.”
“Hey, you’re right. But it was kind of you who did the experimen
t, Professor. Isn’t that cheating?”
“I’m startled at this sudden ethical rigor from someone whose mom does his math homework. Besides, you were a full participant in the rocket experiment. That’s not cheating.”
“Cool! One down,” Kyohei said, pumping his fist enthusiastically.
“You’re on a roll. How about another?” Yukawa said, lifting up the book of math drills.
Kyohei wrinkled his nose and scratched his head before shrugging. “Fine. It’ll be more fun with you teaching me anyway.”
“I guarantee it. Which brings me to a question I had for you. In exchange for me helping you with your studies, I was hoping I could ask a favor.”
“Sure. What?”
“Are you familiar with a master key? It’s a key that opens all the locks in a hotel or inn such as this.”
“You mean the one in my uncle’s room? I’ve seen Narumi going there to grab it.”
“That would be the one. I’d like to use it, if I can. Just for a little while, of course.”
“Sure, I’ll go ask for it,” Kyohei said, standing. Yukawa put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
“You don’t have to get it right now. And I don’t want you to ask for it,” he said, wetting his lips and lowering his voice, “I want you to steal it.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Nishiguchi parted ways with Isobe and made it back to the Hari police station just after eight o’clock in the evening to find it bustling with activity. Apparently, whatever strings needed to be pulled to set up a special investigative task force had been pulled, and everyone with a free hand had been deputized. Officers were carrying computers and office supplies into the main conference room.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Hashigami with a gloomy look on his face.
“Stand around like you don’t have anything to do and someone’s going to put you to work, Nishiguchi. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let’s go.”
“You sure we shouldn’t stay and lend a hand?”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that once the prefectural guys get here. Let’s live a little while we can.”
A Midsummer's Equation: A Detective Galileo Mystery Page 12
