by Soji Shimada
“Yes, it is.”
“We have three main questions for you. First, what relationship did you have to the murdered man, Kazuya Ueda? How close were you to him? I promise you that we can easily discover whether you are lying or not, so to save time all around, please don’t try to hide anything. Just tell the truth.
“The second question concerns your alibi. I know it’s probably difficult, but as long as you weren’t in Room 10 between the hours of 12 and half past, in other words, if you have proof you were elsewhere, we’d like to hear it.
“Our third question is the most important one: just like the information you gave us earlier about the stakes in the garden, we’d like to hear of anything strange you noticed last night. And also, of any strange behaviour on the part of anyone. We know that in matters like this, it can be hard to speak up in front of everyone. Of course, we won’t reveal from whom we got any of the information, so please let us know if there is something you think we ought to know. That’s all, thank you.”
“I understand. First, question number one: I think I can answer that with perfect accuracy. I only ever had two interactions with Mr Ueda in my life. That was ‘Where is Mr Kikuoka?’ And one more that I’ve forgotten the details of. But that kind of thing. Apart from that, I’ve never met the man, not back in Tokyo—I’ve never had the occasion to. In other words, he was a complete stranger to me. I think I could even say I have a closer relationship with you three detectives than I had with him.
“As for an alibi, that’s a bit difficult. I went up to my room around 9.00 p.m. I’m due to take the National Medical Examination to get my licence very soon, so I was reading some reference books. I never left my room again after that, so I don’t have anything to say in response to your third question either.”
“So you’re saying that after you went up to your room you never even went out into the corridor again?”
“That’s right. There are bathrooms attached to every room. There’s no need to go outside.”
“You were staying in Room 13? You didn’t pay a visit to Togai next door in Room 12?”
“I have done in the past, but last night he was wrapped up in something else, and I was studying for my exams, so at least last night we didn’t see each other.”
“What do you mean by he was wrapped up in something else?”
Sasaki related the story of Kozaburo and the flower bed puzzle.
“I see,” said Ushikoshi. Ozaki snorted scornfully.
“And from your room you didn’t hear any strange noises?”
“No… The window is double-paned.”
“How about sounds from the corridor or the stairs? The killer managed to remove that huge doll from Room 3. He must have passed very close to Room 13.”
“I didn’t hear anything. I never had any idea that there had been a murder. Of course I’ll be paying more attention tonight.”
“About what time did you go to sleep?”
“Around 10.30, I think.”
They hadn’t got much out of Sasaki, and Togai wasn’t any more helpful. The only difference was that he was able to be even clearer about his relationship with Ueda—he’d never spoken to him in his life.
“That was the son of Shunsaku Togai, the politician,” said Ozaki, when Togai had left.
“Whoa! That Togai!”
“A Tokyo University student? Must have brains, that one,” said Okuma.
“Those two, Sasaki and Togai, are both after Eiko Hamamoto.”
“As I see it, Togai’s only advantage is that he’s from a famous family.”
“Sad to say, but I agree.”
“Call the Kikuoka Bearings group next. Now is there anything I should be aware of before we begin?”
“Well, we already know that Kikuoka is having an affair with his secretary, Kumi Aikura. Apart from that, Kanai has been Kikuoka’s personal doormat and brown-noser for the past decade and more, and has only recently been promoted to a managerial position.”
“What’s the relationship between Kikuoka Bearings and Hama Diesel?”
“Back in 1958 when Kikuoka Bearings was just a fledgling company, Kikuoka managed to get into bed with Hama Diesel. His company owes everything to Hamamoto. Around half of all the ball bearings used in Hama Diesel’s tractor-trailers are made by Kikuoka Bearings.”
“So the two companies are affiliated?”
“Right. Anyway, that’s why they were invited.”
“Have they had any kind of dispute or falling-out recently?”
“Nothing at all like that. Both companies are doing extremely well, particularly their export business.”
“Got it. And there was nothing going on between Kumi Aikura and Ueda, the chauffeur?”
“Nothing at all that we can find. Ueda seems to have been the most quiet, unassuming man. Kikuoka’s the nosy type, and jealous to boot. A gold-digger mistress like that one is hardly going to risk it all for someone like Ueda.”
But there turned out to be little difference between the Kikuoka Bearings contingent and Sasaki or Togai. Kumi Aikura had encountered Ueda through work, but they’d had next to no direct contact and almost no conversation. The detectives were able to check this information in a casual way with the others and decided it was most likely the truth.
Mr and Mrs Kanai had had the same experience as Kumi. The biggest surprise for the officers was that Eikichi Kikuoka himself made the same claim. The only things he seemed to know about Ueda were that he was unmarried, rarely spoke, had no brothers or sisters, and his father was deceased. In other words, he was the only child of a single mother from Moriguchi near Osaka. And that was about it. Kikuoka had invited Ueda to have a drink with him a couple of times, but they had no kind of relationship to speak of.
Besides the three questions they’d asked Sasaki and Togai, the police had added an extra one—Who do you think might have wanted to kill Ueda?—but it was hopeless. They all said the same thing: they had no idea.
“Mr Kanai, what time was it when you went running to Room 1?”
“I heard Ms Aikura screaming just after 1.05 a.m. and stayed in bed for about ten minutes I think, not sure what to do.”
“Did you hear a man’s voice scream too?”
“Yes, well…”
“Did you look out of the window at all?”
“No.”
“When did you finally get back to your room?”
“Just before 2 a.m.”
“And you had to make a round trip through the salon to do that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“On your way there or back did you meet anyone, or see anything strange?”
“No, nothing.”
And so they only got one single piece of useful information—namely that if Kanai was telling the truth, around 1.15 a.m., and again around 1.50 a.m., there were no suspicious characters along the route connecting Room 9 with Room 1.
At any rate, none of the people interviewed had anything that constituted a solid alibi. All of them had retired to their respective rooms around 9.30, changed into pyjamas, and then never once after that ventured out into the corridor (with the exception of Michio Kanai, of course). After dinner, all of the guests seemed to have shut themselves away in their rooms like bears preparing to hibernate for the winter.
With each room in the mansion having its own en suite bathroom, this behaviour was no different from that of guests at a hotel, but to the three police officers who hadn’t been brought up in a life of luxury, it was a little hard to imagine. At night, back at the hall of residence at the police academy, there were more people hanging out in the corridors than in their own rooms. They decided to ask the next person, Yoshihiko Hamamoto, the reason for this.
“You said the same things as everyone else: no one seems to have ever exchanged words with Mr Ueda; no one set foot outside their rooms after dinner; no one heard anything; no one saw anything. Therefore, nobody has an alibi. Why did everyone shut themselves away and never come out again?”
“I think… maybe it was because everyone brought pyjamas with them but…”
“Yes? Go on.”
“There weren’t any robes or dressing gowns.”
The detectives all nodded knowingly, but in fact they didn’t get anything from Yoshihiko’s reply other than to wonder what kind of a house they had found themselves in.
And what on earth were they going to do that night without so much as a pair of pyjamas?
The next person they called was Eiko Hamamoto. Ushikoshi repeated their three questions.
“I’m sorry but I don’t have an alibi. If you want to know where I was between just after 1 and just before 2 in the morning, then I was in Room 1 with my father, Kumi Aikura and Mr Kanai. I’m afraid I can’t answer for the half-hour after midnight.”
“Hmm. But finally we’ve found someone besides Mr Kanai who actually left their room. It looks like you had a dressing gown.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry, private joke. Were you close to Kazuya Ueda?”
“I hardly spoke to him.”
“Of course not. You wouldn’t have.”
“Remind me of your other question.”
“Did you see anyone behaving suspiciously or hear anything strange?”
“No, I didn’t see anything.”
“Hmm. So once you went to bed you never left your room until you heard Kumi Aikura’s screams and went to the next room?”
“No… Actually, yes, to be accurate I did leave my room one other time.”
“Oh, yes?”
“It was so cold I woke up. I opened my door to check if the drawbridge was completely up or not.”
“And was it?”
“No. As I’d guessed, it wasn’t properly shut.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Yes, occasionally. Sometimes it’s difficult to close from the tower side.”
“And so you closed it?”
“Yes.”
“What time was that?”
“I’m not sure… Maybe about twenty or thirty minutes before I heard Ms Aikura scream… I didn’t check my watch.”
“So it was around 12.30?”
“Yes, I suppose it was. But it might have been later.”
“Could you tell us exactly what happened when you heard Ms Aikura screaming?”
“I was in bed but awake for the reason I just explained. Then I heard screaming. Really loud screaming. So, wondering what was going on, I tried to listen, and then I heard what sounded like a man’s yell. Then I got out of bed, opened my window and looked outside.”
“Did you see anyone, or anything?”
“No. The moon was out and reflecting off the snow, so I could see quite well, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. And then I heard her screaming again, so I went and knocked on the door of Room 1.”
“Hmm. And then your father appeared?”
“That’s right. And finally, Mr Kanai.”
“And what do you believe it was that Ms Aikura had seen?”
“I’m sure she had a nightmare.”
Her tone was emphatic.
Next was Kozaburo Hamamoto. He listened to Ushikoshi’s three questions, then surprised them all with his first response.
“I’ve had several conversations with Ueda.”
“Oh?… And why was that?”
Both Ushikoshi and Okuma looked suspicious.
“Why? Now that’s a difficult question to answer. Was it wrong to want to get to know Ueda?”
Ushikoshi forced a laugh.
“No, no, of course not. But when I hear that the celebrated Mr Kozaburo Hamamoto, a person so famous that there could well be a statue made of him one day, made the effort to get to know a humble chauffeur, it just seems very odd to me.”
“Ha! Well, it seems just as odd to me to hear an opinion like that from a member of the police force, who are supposed to be the keepers of peace and public order. If I desire intellectual stimulation, I’ll happily strike up a conversation with whomever I like. I don’t discriminate. I liked to talk to Ueda because he had been in the military. I wanted to hear first-hand all about the current state of the Japanese Self-Defence Forces.”
“I see. But your relationship with Mr Ueda was only at this mansion, right?”
“Yes, naturally. There was no other place I could have met him, seeing as I never leave this house. But I only finished construction a year ago. Before that, I used to live in Kokura City. I noticed Ueda was Mr Kikuoka’s chauffeur back then when he used to visit my home, but we never exchanged any words at that time.”
“Would I be right in thinking Mr Kikuoka and Mr Ueda have only visited you here at this house twice—once in the summer, and this current visit?”
“Right.”
“How long did they stay in the summer?”
“A week.”
“I see.”
“And then, as for your second question, I went up to my room around 10.30. I’m sorry but I can’t provide an alibi.”
“10.30? That was rather late, wasn’t it?”
“I was chatting with Eiko. However, I don’t know if this information is enough to be my alibi, but as you know, my room is at the top of the tower, and the only way for me to get back to the main building is by a staircase in the form of a drawbridge. Whenever I lower or raise that bridge, it makes a noise that echoes throughout the whole of the main building. It’s winter now so I don’t leave it down for any period of time, because while it’s in the down position it means that the door to the main building is left open, and it’s much too cold for that. Therefore, if you hear the drawbridge being lowered and then raised at night, and you don’t hear that sound again until the next morning you can be sure that I haven’t left my room in the tower.”
“Aha, I understand. But of course, Mr Hamamoto, you aren’t under suspicion. It’s hard to imagine any reason that a man of your social standing and prestige would destroy everything he had by murdering a simple chauffeur. What time did you lower the drawbridge this morning?”
“Around 8.30, I believe. If I get up any earlier my daughter complains that the noise of the bridge wakes her up. By the way, you do realize that the murderer isn’t in this house?”
“Well, if the murderer isn’t in this house, then Mr Ueda must have killed himself. But in our experience we’ve never seen anything like that manner of suicide. If it does indeed turn out to be murder, then I regret to say the murderer must be here in your house.”
“But it doesn’t appear that he or she is.”
“You are quite right. But we have our colleagues in Tokyo working on this case too, and I’m confident they will discover the hidden motive for this crime. By the way, regarding this noise that the drawbridge makes, can it be heard by anybody anywhere in the main building?”
“I’m pretty sure you can hear it anywhere. It’s very loud. But I couldn’t swear that you can hear it down in the basement. In that sense, it makes Room 14 where Mr Kikuoka is staying such a special room. The people in Room 1 or 2 would definitely be able to hear it.”
“And how about question number three?”
“You mean whether I noticed anything suspicious? Well, my room is up in the tower, far away from everyone else, so I have no idea whatsoever. That said, I did hear that man’s voice and Ms Aikura screaming. Apart from that I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary.”
“Hmm. And what do you think it was that Ms Aikura saw, Mr Hamamoto?”
“Well, that’s quite a mystery. I can’t imagine it being anything besides a nightmare.”
“But you definitely heard a man’s scream?”
“Yes, I heard it. But it was very faint. At the time I thought it came from somewhere far beyond this house—a drunk yelling or something.”
“I see. And then I’d like to ask you why someone took—what’s its name again?—from Room 3?”
“You mean Golem?”
“That’s it. Do you think someone delibe
rately carried it out?”
“I really don’t know. It was right by the window, and therefore quite easy to remove from the room.”
“If someone wanted to make you suffer, would taking that doll and dumping it in the snow be a good way to do it?”
“Not at all, really. There are other smaller, lighter and more valuable items that I truly care about. And if they really wanted to upset me, rather than taking it apart, they could have smashed it to pieces. And they could have done that inside Room 3. There was no need to take it outside.”
“So it isn’t something you really care about?”
“Not at all. It was something I just picked up on a whim.”
“Why do you call it—er… Golem?
“It was a doll shop in Prague. That’s what they called him. There’s a bit of an odd story behind the name. Surely you don’t need me to tell that story to the police?”
“What kind of story?”
“There’s a belief that he can walk by himself and always heads towards water.”
“What the…!”
Hamamoto laughed.
“You don’t believe me! But in medieval Europe there was a great folklore tradition, and they believed in all sorts of myths.”
“It’s a grotesque-looking doll. Why did you want to buy something like that?”
“Why did I buy it…? Hmm… I suppose it’s because I just don’t feel the appeal of those cute French dolls.”
“That reminds me, this is quite an unusual residence, isn’t it? I’d like to ask you about it. The stairs and the corridors—or perhaps the right word is landings—on every floor are made of metal. Even the handrails are metal.
“And then, at the far end of every L-shaped corridor, the floor doesn’t quite reach as far as the wall. There’s an open gap, and that has a handrail too. What was your reason for making it like that?”
“That gap was a mistake. A young architect placed an order for metal floorboards and the wrong size was delivered. He said he’d redo it but I told them it would be all right. Actually, I preferred it that way. It makes them look like a kind of aerial walkaway. But I asked them to put in the guard rail. My staircases and passageways are all metallic, and I’ve gone overboard and put in metal handrails too. And then my stairs are steep, and look as if they’re getting rusty. I kind of like that grim, gloomy effect.