“It just makes me want to cry. How come a fat old lecher like him doesn’t get diabetes and a skinny, clean-living man like you ends up a diabetic? He deserves to get it! Then he wouldn’t be able to sleep around so much! Life really isn’t fair.”
“Shut up! Let’s just go to sleep.”
“You can sleep by yourself. I’ll go and sleep in the bath or somewhere.”
“Do what you like!”
“When I think how tomorrow we’re going to have to sit through that irritating cow’s piano recital again, I get too angry to sleep. I don’t know why she can’t just shut the hell up.”
Right then, there was another knock at the door. Hatsue was panting like a wild beast from the effort of spitting out so much invective, but when she saw who was at the door, her voice instantly took on the sweetness of a teenage girl’s.
“Oh, hello, Ms Hamamoto! What can we do for you?”
“I was just doing the rounds of all the rooms to check that there’s nothing you need. I wondered if you had any questions about anything.”
“No, there’s nothing at all we could possibly want,” said Michio. “This is such a wonderful room. And as it’s my second visit, I don’t think there’s anything we need to ask you.”
“Is there enough hot water?”
“Yes, plenty, thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Thank you so much for inviting us to such a lovely party,” said Hatsue. “And your piano recital was such a treat!”
“Yes, Ms Hamamoto, you’re a truly gifted player. Have you been studying long?”
Michio Kanai’s face wore its usual plastered smile.
“Yes, I suppose it has been a rather long time. I started taking lessons when I was four. But I’m really not a very good player. I’m rather embarrassed that my performance was so poor.”
“Not at all. It was absolutely delightful,” simpered Hatsue. “This husband of mine has nothing interesting about him at all. He’s like a limp stick of celery. Unless we come for a little holiday like this, we never get to do anything fun at all.”
“Hey, Hatsue, that’s not true! But I really hope you’ll play for us again tomorrow, Ms Hamamoto.”
“Yes, please!”
“Ah, I’m so sorry. Tomorrow my father plans to play everybody something from his record collection.”
“You’re so talented, Ms Hamamoto! I wish I’d taken the piano when I was a girl. I was just saying the same thing to my husband.”
“Oh, don’t. You’re embarrassing me. Anyway, if there’s anything I can do for you, anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask Hayakawa and he’ll come and let me know.”
“Thank you. We will.”
“Well, then, be sure to lock up properly. Goodnight.”
“Yes, we will. Thank you for everything. Goodnight!”
SCENE 4
Back in the Salon
Kumi Aikura wasn’t in the mood to be all by herself in Room 1, so instead she made her way back to the salon and hung around there.
Apart from Kikuoka, the Kanais and, of course, Eiko, everyone was still there. And it wasn’t long before the west-side door opened and Eiko returned from her visit to Room 9.
Mr and Mrs Kanai and Kikuoka seemed to be the only ones concerned about getting an early night for their health. Like Kumi, the others seemed more worried about being alone on this stormy night.
The police detectives, on the other hand, didn’t seem too bothered.
“Ahh! I’m getting sleepy,” said Okuma, stretching. “Didn’t get much sleep last night. Work and all.”
And with that excuse, he got to his feet. Eiko noticed and called Chikako Hayakawa to show him to his room.
The Inspector left for Room 12 and Chikako soon returned to the salon. But that was the only change. No one else from the crowd made any move to head off to bed. Mr and Mrs Hayakawa and Kajiwara could hardly leave before the guests, so they took three of the chairs and seated themselves inconspicuously in the doorway between the salon and the kitchen.
The clock turned 10. The salon had no television, so that normally by this time of night it would be deserted. Eiko went over to the stereo and put on Colin Davis conducting The Rite of Spring.
Togai and Yoshihiko were sitting together at the dinner table. Sasaki was opposite, reading one of his medical textbooks.
“Hey, Yoshihiko,” said Togai. “You know the flower bed, was that a design from a catalogue or something that could be ordered?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Uncle Kozaburo drew the sketch himself, and called in a landscape gardener to do it.”
“So he designed it himself?”
“That’s what I heard. And when they started landscaping it, he was there for the whole thing, giving directions and stuff.”
“Wow.”
“But that’s only what I heard from my cousin, Eiko.”
“What are you two talking about?”
Eiko came over and took the chair next to Yoshihiko.
“That flower bed.”
“Oh, that.”
She didn’t seem very interested in the topic.
“It’s always a big thing when Daddy has the idea for a design. It’s all, ‘fetch me this, get me that’. You know that he’s an artist at heart. He never really wanted to be the president of Hama Diesel. What he really enjoys doing is listening to Wagner while he paints.”
“Does he really demand that people bring him all kinds of things?” asked Togai.
“He’s quite the autocrat, Uncle Kozaburo,” said Yoshihiko.
“It’s because he’s such an artist. Back then he insisted on drawing all his sketches on aluminium foil. He sent me off to Kajiwara to borrow rolls of it.”
“Aluminium foil? That’s what he drew on?”
“So it seems. And after borrowing it, he never gave it back. Kajiwara told me that he needed it for his cooking, so I told Daddy to take what he needed and to give the rest back, that he was wasting it. But he just told me to go and buy more. So I had to go down to the village to stock up.”
“Wow.”
This time Sasaki was the one to react.
Constable Anan carefully placed his cap on the dining table, adjusted his expression and seated himself at the very far corner. He was immediately accosted by Kumi.
“Constable?”
“Yes?”
Anan kept his face rigidly facing forward.
“Constable Anan, isn’t it? That’s rather unusual. Is it a local Hokkaido name?”
Kumi waited for a reply, but none came. She had just given up and decided to go and try the billiard table, when Anan suddenly spoke up.
“My father’s from Hiroshima. My grandmother was from Okinawa.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Kumi seemed determined to make the constable uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry, but I’m unable to answer that kind of question.”
Ignoring his obvious reluctance, Kumi grabbed Anan by the arm and began to pull him from his chair.
“How about a game of billiards?”
“I’m, er… I’m sorry but that’s not possible. I’m afraid I didn’t come here to play billiards.”
But Kumi was not that easily discouraged.
“It’ll be fine. You’ll still be doing your job while you’re playing. You’re supposed to be protecting us, right? Come on, if you haven’t played before I can teach you.”