Right now, he rushed out of the salon again and was immediately replaced by the arrival of Kozaburo Hamamoto, smoking his pipe. He took a seat next to Inspector Okuma.
“Where’s our famous investigator off to?” Ushikoshi asked him.
“He’s a bit strange, that one, isn’t he?”
“He’s extremely strange. A complete nut job.”
“He’s removed Golem’s head and said he wants to take it back to forensics for another look. He says there’s something suspicious about it.”
“Not again!”
“At this rate he’ll be removing all our heads,” said Okuma.
“We’d be better off with a department store security guard.”
“I’ve got no intention of going down along with that moron,” said Ozaki curtly.
“Looks like we’re about to get the psychic dance that you predicted. When he gets back it’s all going to get started.”
“I’ll get ready to light the fire.”
“This is not the time to be making jokes,” said Ozaki. He turned to Kozaburo Hamamoto, a serious expression on his face. “Did he give a reason for taking Golem’s head off?”
“Not really…”
“I don’t imagine there’s any reason at all for it.”
“It’ll get in the way when he’s dancing,” Okuma threw in.
“Personally,” said Kozaburo, “I’m not particularly thrilled that he’s taken the head off again. Well, I suppose he can if he wants. Maybe he’s looking for fingerprints?”
“Does he even have the wits to think of something like that?” said Okuma.
It felt a little like the pot calling the kettle black.
“We checked thoroughly for fingerprints already,” said Ushikoshi.
“And what did you find?” Kozaburo asked.
“Nowadays, no criminal with any kind of knowledge about police investigative techniques leaves anything like a fingerprint behind. People watch TV programmes. And if the criminal is one of the people in this house, it’ll be difficult to prove anything. It’d be perfectly normal for any of them to touch anything in the house.”
“I suppose so.”
It was well into the afternoon before Kiyoshi returned to the Ice Floe Mansion. His mood was buoyant as usual as he crossed the salon to sit by me.
“The forensic pathologist gave me a lift back. He said he was on his way here anyway.”
“Really?”
“So I asked him to drop in and have a cup of tea.”
Kiyoshi spoke as if he’d invited someone over to his own home. There was indeed a man in a white coat standing by the front door. Kiyoshi raised his voice.
“Mr Banana! Would you get Mr Kajiwara for me?”
For whatever reason, Kiyoshi had happened to remember Kajiwara’s name correctly. Constable Anan, who was leaning on the wall by the kitchen, made no protest and simply disappeared to fetch Kajiwara. He’d apparently decided to answer to his new name.
As they sipped their tea, the grandfather clock in the salon struck three. I can specify that the people in the room right then were Kiyoshi and myself, the three detectives with Constable Anan, Kozaburo Hamamoto, Mr and Mrs Kanai, Yoshihiko Hamamoto, Mr and Mrs Hayakawa. And I caught glimpses of Kajiwara too in the kitchen. In other words, the people who weren’t with us in the salon were Eiko, Kumi, Togai and Sasaki—those four. The forensic pathologist, Dr Sano, was also with us at that time.
Suddenly we heard a howl, a man’s voice, from somewhere far away. It was more than just a scream. I’d have described it as the cry someone would make when they came face to face with unimaginable horror.
Kiyoshi kicked his chair backwards, leapt to his feet and ran in the direction of Room 12. Reflexively, I glanced up at the grandfather clock. It wasn’t even five past three: 3.04 and 30 seconds.
The three policemen rushed out shouting. They hesitated, not really knowing where they were running to, and it was annoying having to chase after Kiyoshi, so only Ushikoshi and Anan actually followed him. Ozaki and Okuma went a different way.
Everyone assumed the howl had come from either Togai or Sasaki, as they were the only men missing—the other two not present being women. But it was impossible to know which one. However, Kiyoshi had no doubt. He headed straight for Room 13 and banged on the door.
“Sasaki! Sasaki!”
He pulled out a handkerchief and turned the doorknob. But it kept sticking.
“It’s locked! Mr Hamamoto, is there a spare key?”
“Kohei, quickly, go and get Eiko! She’s got the spare.”
Hayakawa rushed off.
“Okay, get out of the way!”
Ozaki had just arrived. He too began to bang on the door. But the result was the same.
“Should I break it down?”
“No, let’s wait for the spare key,” said Ushikoshi as Eiko came running. “Is this it? Let me have it.”
He put the key in the lock and turned it. There was the click of a lock releasing, but when Ozaki tried to turn the knob, the door still refused to open.
“Oh, the other lock is on,” said Kozaburo.
Besides the push-button lock in the centre of the doorknob, each room had a second oval-shaped lock underneath, which, if you turned it 180 degrees, would send a bar bolt across. This bolt could only be turned from inside the room.
“Break it.”
At Ushikoshi’s command, Ozaki and Anan threw their shoulders against the door. After a few tries, it broke.
Sasaki was lying face up in the middle of the room. On the table there was a medical textbook that he’d apparently been reading. The room looked completely undisturbed.
Straight through Sasaki’s sweater, right at the level of his heart, was a hunting knife, identical to the ones used in the previous two murders, with the same white string trailing from the handle. But the biggest difference from the previous cases was that Sasaki’s chest was occasionally rising and falling.
“He’s still alive!” cried Kiyoshi.
Sasaki’s face was drained of colour, but his eyelids seemed to be ever so slightly open.
Ozaki turned his head 360 degrees, surveying every inch of the room. I did the same and, simultaneously, we noticed on the wall something which shed light on the strange nature of these serial killings. There was a small piece of paper attached with a pin. (See Fig. 8.)
“What did you see? Did you see something? Answer me!” shouted Ozaki, clutching Sasaki by the wrist. Kiyoshi put out a hand to stop him.
“Mr Banana, there’s a stretcher in the van outside. Bring it here!”
“What the hell?”
Ozaki was immediately riled up.
“How dare you think that we take orders from a pain in the arse like you? Shut up, you freak, and get out of our way! Leave this to the experts.”
“Of course I intend to leave it to the experts. We’ll get out of your way. Doctor Sano, if you please.”
The white-coated Dr Sano pushed his way through the crowd.
“It’s dangerous for him to try to talk right now,” he said to Ozaki. “Please don’t speak to him.”
The expert had given his opinion. And right then, just as Kiyoshi had instructed, the stretcher arrived. Dr Sano and Kiyoshi quickly lifted Sasaki onto it.
There was not a lot of blood, in fact Sasaki was hardly bleeding at all. But just as Dr Sano and Constable Anan picked up the stretcher to leave the room, a very unexpected thing happened. Eiko Hamamoto burst into tears and clung to the stretcher.
“Sasaki! Don’t die!”
Togai, who had materialized out of nowhere, watched in grim silence.
Ozaki carefully removed the pinned scrap of paper from the wall. It looked to be something the killer had left behind.