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 easy 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.