“Bet it’s that punk kid. Probably went and got in trouble with the law.” Genichi pulled himself slowly and awkwardly to his feet.
Akifumi followed Genichi back out into the store. Kaga was inspecting a table clock that was sitting on the work surface. It was the piece that Akifumi had been working on when Kaga came in.
“I’m Genichi Terada,” said Genichi.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Terada. I know you’re busy, but there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What?”
“Do you know a woman by the name of Mineko Mitsui?”
“Mitsui, you said? Could be a customer, I s’pose.” Genichi scratched the corner of one of his eyebrows.
Akifumi couldn’t recall any customer of that name.
Kaga shook his head. “I think you know her. This is what she looks like.” Kaga pulled a photograph out of his briefcase.
Genichi put on his reading glasses and looked at the picture.
“I’ve certainly seen her. Can’t put my finger on where, though,” he muttered.
“Where were you at six o’clock in the evening on June the tenth?” inquired Kaga.
“June the tenth?” Genichi glanced at a calendar on the wall. “The day before yesterday?”
“Hey, boss,” Akifumi volunteered. “At six, you were probably walking Donkichi.”
“What? Yeah, you’re right. I was out walking the dog. We always head out at about half past five.”
Kaga’s eyes were warm and smiling.
“Maybe you bumped into someone in the course of your walk?”
“Bumped into someone...?” said Genichi. His jaw dropped and he looked down at the photograph.
“I bumped into her.”
“You remember?”
“Yes. I saw her from time to time when I was out walking the dog. Come to think of it, she may even have told me her name.”
“Her full name’s Mineko Mitsui. You’re quite sure that you’ve met her?”
“Yes, we’ve met. Or, rather, we’ve said hello to each other quite a few times.” Genichi handed the photograph back to Kaga.
“Where did you meet her?”
“That would be—”
Genichi cut himself short and directed a penetrating look at the detective. “First of all, though, I need to know what sort of investigation this is for. Is my having met this woman a problem of some kind?”
“Not at all. I’m just checking something. Could you tell me where you encountered Ms. Mitsui?”
“Happy to. I’ve got nothing to hide. It was in the park.”
“The park? Which park?”
“Hamacho Park. It has a special area for people with dogs. The park’s a little way past the theater—”
A wry smile on his face, Kaga stopped Genichi mid-sentence.
“That’s fine. I know the place. Was Ms. Mitsui on her own that evening?”
“She was. She generally was.”
“What did you talk about?” Kaga pulled a notebook out of his pocket.
“Talk about? Like I said, we just said hello. We didn’t stop for a chat or anything.”
“Do you know if Ms. Mitsui was going somewhere? Did she mention anything like that?”
Genichi gave a thoughtful grunt, folded his arms, and tilted his head to one side. “I didn’t ask her. Looked to me like she was just out for a walk.”
“What was she wearing? Was she carrying any bags?”
“I don’t remember how she was dressed.” Genichi frowned. “I don’t think she was carrying any bags — though I’m not a hundred percent certain.”
Akifumi had trouble suppressing a laugh. Genichi was the last person in the world to notice how a woman was dressed. Even when his wife went out decked out in her smartest outfit, he’d assume that she just popped out to pick up something at the local supermarket.
“How did Ms. Mitsui look?”
“Look?”
“Did you notice anything about her? Could be anything.”
“Nothing special, no. She seemed to be in quite high spirits.”
“In high spirits?” For the first time, a look of suspicion crossed Kaga’s face.
“Maybe ‘high spirits’ isn’t the right word. Let’s say she looked like she was having fun, like she was enjoying her walk. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
“Good,” said Kaga encouragingly, returning his notebook to his pocket. “Sorry to have interrupted your work.”
“Are we done?”
“Yes, we’re done. However—” Kaga glanced at the clock on the workbench. “That’s an unusual clock. With those three faces like that.”
“That one? Yes, it’s rather extraordinary.”
The clock was a columnar prism with a face on each of its three sides.
“Do all three dials display the same time?”
“Yes. The hands of all three dials move together.”
“Together?”
“So when one face starts going wrong, all three dials go wrong together. The same when it stops.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” Taking a last look at the clock, Kaga bowed first to Genichi and then to Akifumi. “Thank you for your help,” he said and left the store.
“What the heck was that about? Seems a funny sort of detective to me.” Genichi was bursting with curiosity.
2
Shimako came back a minute or two after the detective had left the shop. She had a cloth bag in one hand and a white plastic one in the other. Tall and broad at the best of times, she looked even more strapping than usual. Akifumi’s secret nickname for his employers was “the gigantic duo.”
“I bought some daifuku rice cakes. Let’s all have a nice cup of tea,” she said, as she disappeared into the back.
A few minutes later, she called Akifumi into the workshop behind the shop. On a small table next to the workbench sat the soft, sweet-filled rice cakes and three glasses of barley tea. Three in the afternoon was official teatime at Terada’s Clock Shop.
“Come to think of it, I heard that there was something in the papers about a nasty incident in Kodenmacho. I wonder if the detective has anything to do with that,” commented Shimako when the men told her about the detective’s visit.
“Heard about something in the papers? You didn’t read it yourself?” Genichi.
“No, I overheard some ladies at the supermarket talking about it.”
“Huh. That figures.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m quite capable of reading a newspaper for myself, you know.”
Akifumi, ignoring the sour looks the couple were exchanging, began leafing through the newspapers of the last couple of days until he found the article. There had been a murder in Kodenmacho. The victim was a forty-five-year-old woman who lived alone. When he saw her name, Akifumi gasped: Mineko Mitsui.
He showed the article to Genichi. The older man scowled savagely and stuck his lower lip out.
“Can’t believe it. Her, of all people. Too awful.”
“What was she like?” Shimako asked.
“Don’t know much about her. We just fell into the habit of saying hello because we were always bumping into each other.”
“Forty-five and living alone. It’s a little unusual not to be married at that age.”
“I remember her saying something about having a kid.”
“Had her husband passed on, then?”
“Search me. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask.”
“I wonder if she had a job?”
“Put a lid on it, woman. I don’t know. How many times do I have to say that?”
“I wasn’t asking you. I was just thinking aloud, asking myself ‘Did she have a job?’ The poor thing. She was forty-five; more or less the same age as me.” Shimako shook her head from side to side as she read the article.
“You’re well north of fifty, woman. The same age? I don’t think so!”