by Soji Shimada
“See, it’s a mini version of my bed. You pull it out like a drawer.”
He took the cushions off one of the sofas and arranged them on the bed.
“Because it needs to slide under the other bed, this one doesn’t have a mattress on it.”
“Ha, another surprise. It’s all very well thought out.”
The two men sat on the sofa and drank Louis XIII cognac. The wind seemed to grow louder, drowning out the sound of the ice clinking in their glasses.
“Couldn’t a strong wind like tonight’s blow over a tower that leans as far as this one?”
Kozaburo chuckled.
“It’ll be fine.”
“And the main building too?”
Kozaburo laughed a little harder.
“Fine, fine!”
“Okay, then, but if this mansion does collapse, at least the hidden killer’ll be trapped underneath it.”
This time Ushikoshi laughed at his own joke.
“And if the killer is out there in the snow, he’s probably frozen solid by now,” added Kozaburo.
“Yes, he would be. He’d probably need a drop of this brandy to warm him up. Is this Louis XIII? I’ve heard people talk about it, but I’ve never even seen it in real life, let alone drunk it. It’s really quite fine.”
“It doesn’t give you a hangover. Anyway, Chief Inspector, can you tell me whether you’ve got a possible suspect in mind for the murder?”
“Ah, so that’s what you want to know, is it? In mind… Someone in mind… Well, I guess I’ll have to confess to you that we don’t. We’re really quite stumped. It’s a bizarre case. I’ve never heard of another murder where a scream was heard a full thirty minutes after the victim was killed.”
“And the corpse appeared to be dancing.”
“That’s right. And the suspect seems to be a non-existent, bearded, swarthy sleepwalker with burn scars on his cheeks. It’s like something out of a horror movie. There’s nothing the police can do here.”
“After murdering a man, he flew through the air and peeped in through a young woman’s bedroom window… May I ask you some questions about that?”
“Yes. I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”
“Why did the murderer take my doll outside, break it into pieces and scatter it in the snow?”
“Um, well, I think that was a kind of smokescreen. At first sight, it seems to have some important meaning, but it was really done just to mislead us. I don’t believe it had any more significance than that.”
“And why was Ueda in that strange position?”
“That wasn’t at all significant. The dead bodies of murder victims often end up like that—in weird contortions from the agony of death.”
“What was that round mark on the floor by the small of Ueda’s back?”
“It got there by chance. While he was writhing in agony, his fingers just happened to touch the floor.”
“The stakes that Sasaki says he saw in the garden, stuck in the snow?”
“Ah, yes, about that… If those stakes had something to do with Mr Ueda’s death, then I’m sure that the killer suffers from some sort of psychosis. When it comes to criminals, especially murderers – and this is something difficult for lay people to understand – they often need to perform some kind of ritual before committing their crime. There are too many examples of this to count. There was once a burglar for whom wearing women’s stockings was some kind of good luck ritual for him. He said that if he left the house with women’s stockings on, then his next break-in would always go well. So that’s what we believe the stakes were about. Some kind of good luck ritual.”
“Hmm. Then who was the man who looked into Ms Aikura’s bedroom—the one with the burn scars on his face?”
“There’s no one fitting that description here in the house or in the neighbourhood, right? Nobody in the village has seen anyone like that either. So obviously—”
“Ms Aikura must have been dreaming. But do you really think so? The scream, the lack of footprints… it’s not a straightforward case at all, is it? And you can’t find any motive at all?”
“That’s really the problem. Trying to narrow down the occupants of this mansion to one suspect, well, no matter how difficult it may be, we will get there eventually. But whoever we pick, it always comes back to motive. Not one of the people in this house had a motive for murder. This is the toughest part of the whole thing for us police. But we have Tokyo Headquarters on the job and I’m confident they’re eventually going to come up with something we couldn’t possibly have found by ourselves.”
“I hope so. If you don’t mind my asking, Mr Ushikoshi, if I may call you that, have you been a detective long?”
“About twenty years.”
“I’ve heard that veteran detectives like yourself tend to have very strong intuition when it comes to spotting a criminal. Is there somebody in this case who you’ve got a hunch about?”
“Unfortunately not. But I think it’s going to turn out to be someone quite unexpected… By the way, do you definitely want me to spend the night here?”
“If you could, that would be great.”
“In that case, I need to inform Ozaki. I’m sure he’ll have left the door to our room unlocked for me. I’d better go and check in with him.”
“No need. I’ll just call someone. If I press this button, a bell rings in the salon and the Hayakawas’ room. Chikako will come and we’ll ask her to let Sergeant Ozaki know. She’ll be here right away.”
Minutes later, Chikako Hayakawa appeared, brushing the snow from her head. Kozaburo asked her to let Sergeant Ozaki in Room 15 know that Ushikoshi would stay the night in the tower, and asked her who was still up. Chikako responded that everyone was still awake.
“Wait about thirty more minutes, then feel free to go to bed,” said Kozaburo.
Ushikoshi glanced at the wall clock and saw it was 10.44 p.m.
A couple of minutes after Chikako had left, Eiko appeared at the door.
“Oh, Eiko! What brings you up here?”
“I’m thinking of going to bed soon. I’m really tired.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I was hoping you’d put the bridge up if Chief Inspector Ushikoshi plans to sleep here. The people in the salon are getting cold.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Who’s still there now?”
“Sasaki and Togai. Yoshihiko’s playing billiards with the policeman. And then there’s the Hayakawas and Kajiwara.”
“Do any of them look ready to go to bed?”
“No, not yet. Sasaki and Togai are watching the billiard game.”
“Has Ms Aikura gone up to her room already, then?”
“Her? A long time ago.”
“Got it. Well, you’d better get some sleep.”
Kozaburo saw his daughter out, closed the door and returned to the sofa. He took a sip of his cognac.
“Ah, the ice has all gone.”
His voice was strangely subdued.
“It’s a brutal night, isn’t it? Let’s put on some music. I only have a cassette tape player up here though.”
On the bedside table there was a desktop-sized stereo.
“My daughter always says she hates this one.”
The piano piece that began to play was a tune that Ushikoshi recognized, but he couldn’t put a name to it. He knew that if it was something familiar even to him, then it must be famous, which of course made him hesitate to ask the title. He really didn’t want to show himself up too much. It wouldn’t be good for the future of the investigation.
“I enjoy operas and symphonies and other more grandiose stuff too, but piano compositions are my favourite type of classical music. How about you, Chief Inspector? Do you like to listen to music? What kind do you like?”
“Ah… I, er…”
Ushikoshi shook his head apologetically.
“I’m not musical at all. Can’t sing, I’m tone-deaf. All Beethoven sounds the same to me.”
“I see…”
&n
bsp; Kozaburo sounded a little sad to find that this wasn’t a topic the two men could discuss.
“I’ll go and get some more ice.”
He picked up the ice bucket and went into the kitchen.
Ushikoshi heard the sound of the refrigerator door being opened. Kozaburo hadn’t quite shut the kitchen door behind him and Ushikoshi could see Kozaburo through the opening as he moved backwards and forwards in the kitchen.
“This a real blizzard!” said Kozaburo, raising his voice.
“Sure is!” called Ushikoshi in response. The piano music continued, but the blizzard outside was about the same volume. The door from the kitchen opened and Kozaburo reappeared with a full ice bucket. He sat on the bed and dropped some cubes into Ushikoshi’s glass.
“Thank you,” said Ushikoshi, studying Kozaburo’s face. “Is something the matter? You don’t seem very well.”
Kozaburo smiled a little.
“I’m not very good on stormy nights… Anyway, let’s keep drinking until we’ve used up all the ice. Are you up to keeping me company?”
As Kozaburo spoke, the antique wall clock struck eleven.
SCENE 6
The Salon
It was some while later that Kozaburo realized that he’d forgotten about the drawbridge. He and Ushikoshi hurried out into the snowstorm and pulled the chain that raised the bridge, becoming so chilled in the process that it took several more drinks to warm them up again. It was just after midnight by the time the two men got to sleep.
The next morning, in anticipation of the view from the tower, they woke up well before 8. The wind had completely dropped and the sky was no longer full of swirling snowflakes. However, there was no blue sky to be seen; the drift ice sat on a desolate sea under a gloomy sky. There was just one brighter, white cloud over to the east, concealing the morning sun.
But for those used to living in a northern climate, this view was as impressive as any other. It looked as if someone had taken a vast white sheet and placed it on top of the sea, hiding the water completely. How much labour would that have taken to achieve? To Mother Nature it was a breeze.
They lowered the drawbridge. As they were crossing, Ushikoshi noticed a vertical line of metal rungs embedded in the main building wall ahead of them. He guessed it was a kind of ladder for use by someone needing to climb up to the roof of the building.
They arrived in the salon just after 9.00 a.m. Perhaps because most people had stayed up so late the previous night, the only person already awake was Michio Kanai. He was sitting alone at the dining table. The three house-staff members seemed to be in the kitchen, but the rest of the guests must still have been asleep.
The three men greeted each other, and Kanai went back to the newspaper he’d been reading, while Kozaburo went over to the fireplace and took a seat in his favourite rocking chair. Ushikoshi also sat down in a nearby chair.
The firewood burned and the smoke was sucked up by the massive funnel of a chimney. The glass of the windows was all fogged up. It was a perfectly normal morning in the Ice Floe Mansion.
Nevertheless, Chief Inspector Ushikoshi had an uncomfortable feeling. And he soon realized why. Because Sergeant Ozaki and Inspector Okuma had not got up yet. He’d just begun to wonder about this when the salon door burst open and Ozaki and Okuma themselves hurried in.
“I’m sorry, I was a bit tired.” said Ozaki. “Is there anything to report?” he continued, pulling up a chair to the dining table. Ushikoshi got up from his chair by the fire and went over to the table.
“So far so good. But it’s still early yet. Nothing to report.”
“S’pose not.” Okuma sounded half asleep still.
“I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t get to sleep with the noise of the wind,” said Ozaki.
“What happened to Anan?”
“He was playing all night, so I don’t expect he’ll be getting up any time soon,” said Okuma.
The next to come down was Hatsue Kanai, then Eiko, followed closely by Kumi Aikura. But more than an hour later the rest of the party still hadn’t shown up.
Everyone was drinking hot tea as they waited.
“What shall we do? Should I go and wake them?” Eiko asked Kozaburo.
“No, let them sleep.”
Just then there was the sound of a car coming up the hill, followed by a young man’s voice calling from the front entrance hall.
“Excuse me? Hello?”
“Just a minute!”
Eiko went out to see who was there. A moment later she let out a shriek that had the three police officers start after her, but she immediately reappeared with an enormous bunch of irises.
“Did you order these, Dad?”
“I did. Winter is so dreary without any flowers. I had them flown in.”
“Dad, you’re the best!”
Behind her was the sound of the car going back down the hill. Eiko laid the irises gently on the table.
“You and Chikako divide them up and put some in here and everyone’s rooms. There should be a vase in every room. If there isn’t, I know we’ve got a few extra around somewhere. I know we have enough.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Let’s do it right away. Auntie! Auntie!”
The guests volunteered to go and fetch the vases from each of their rooms. Right about the time the flowers had been divided up, Sasaki and Togai finally appeared, but went right back out again to fetch the vases from their rooms.
At that point it was almost 11.00 a.m. Eiko took some of the flowers and went to wake Yoshihiko. That was when Constable Anan finally turned up.
At 11.50 a.m. everyone was assembled in the salon except Eikichi Kikuoka. No one had considered disturbing a company president from his sleep. But now that they thought about it, it was strange that he wasn’t already up. He’d gone to bed early the night before. It had been around 9 o’clock when he’d left the salon. He’d stopped by the Kanais’ room after that, but he must have been back in his own room by 9.30. For him to still be asleep past 11 the next morning…
“Strange…” mumbled Kanai. “Perhaps he’s not feeling well?”
“Should we go and check on him?” said Kumi. “But then again he might be in a bad mood if we wake him up.”
“I hope he hasn’t been—” said Okuma, stopping himself. “I reckon it’s safer if we do wake him up.”
“All right, then, let’s take him some flowers,” said Kozaburo. “Eiko, pass me that vase.”
“But this one belongs in the salon.”
“It doesn’t matter. This room’ll be just fine without flowers… Thanks. Shall we all go and check on him?”
Everyone made their way down to Room 14 in the basement. Kozaburo knocked on the door.
“Mr Kikuoka? It’s Hamamoto.”
Chief Inspector Ushikoshi had an attack of déjà vu. Last night he had participated in the exact same scene, except that at that time Kozaburo had called his name with less urgency.
“He’s not waking up.” Kozaburo turned to Kumi. “You try, dear. He might respond better to a woman’s voice.”
But the result was the same. Everyone exchanged looks, but Ushikoshi’s face turned completely white.
“Mr Kikuoka! Mr Kikuoka!”
He began to bang violently on the door.
“What the hell? Come on!”
The detective’s panicked tone made everyone’s stomach drop.
“Can I break it down?”
“Yes, but…”
Kozaburo hesitated a moment. This was his beloved study after all.
“From up there, can’t you see inside a little bit?”
Sasaki was pointing to the ventilation hole high up in the wall. But there weren’t any tables or chairs or anything that could be used to stand on.
“Ozaki, wasn’t there something in your room?” said Ushikoshi, but Ozaki was ahead of him. He ran into Room 15 and came back with the bedside table, then placed it directly under the vent and clambered up.
“It’s no good. I’m too low to se
e anything.”
“The stepladder!” shouted Kozaburo. “Kajiwara, isn’t there a ladder in the outside shed? Run and get it!”
Time crawled by as they waited for Kajiwara to get back with the ladder. When he did, he set it up and climbed to the top.
“What the…”
“Is he dead?”
“Has he been killed?”
The police officers were anxious for news.
“No. Mr Kikuoka isn’t in his bed. But there’s something on the bed that looks like blood.”
“What? Where is he?”
“I can’t see. Not from here. I can only see the area around the bed.”
“Let’s break it down.”
Ushikoshi was not going to wait for permission this time. He and Okuma threw themselves against the door.
“I don’t mind, but this door is particularly sturdy. And the lock is custom-made. It’s not going to break that easily. And I’m afraid there isn’t a duplicate key.”
What Kozaburo said seemed to be true. Even with Constable Anan joining the other two, the weight of three men slamming against it, the door didn’t budge.
“The axe!” shouted Kozaburo. “Kajiwara, go back to the shed. There’s an axe in there, right?”
Kajiwara shot off.
When he returned with the axe, Anan told everyone to get out of the way, and held them back with outstretched arms. Okuma lifted the axe. It was clear to everyone that this was not the first time this man had chopped wood. Soon woodchips and splinters were flying, and a crack opened in the door.
“No, not that spot. It won’t work.”
Kozaburo stepped forward from the group of onlookers.
“Here, here and here. Hit it in those three spots.”
Kozaburo indicated spots at the top, bottom and the very middle of the door. Okuma looked dubious.
“You’ll see when you break it.”
Okuma managed to make three holes, then tried to stick his hand inside. Ushikoshi pulled out a white handkerchief and offered it to Okuma, who wrapped it around his hand.
“Near the top and the bottom of the door are two bolts that you have to turn to lock or release. Reach in and turn them. The upper bolt will swing downwards. The lower one will lift upwards.”