“What!” Yosaku looked alarmed. “Did you show it to them?”
“No, I didn’t. The policemen came, and Shota was over there. Then—”
Kaga was the one who’d brought it up. “That’s an unusual toy to get for your boy. Very old-fashioned. Where did you get it?” he’d asked.
“I told him that I didn’t know. That I hadn’t bought it, rather you’d been given it and brought it around for Shota. Kaga then asked me when that was.”
“What did you say?” Yosaku asked.
“I said the twelfth,” said Reiko. “That you’d gone out of your way to bring it around on the twelfth. Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no... that’s fine. Did they say anything else about the top?”
“No, that’s everything. The two detectives didn’t stay long. They were very nice and polite, I must say.”
“Oh, really?” sighed Yosaku, winding the string around the top.
“Do you know what the police are investigating? Are you involved in something?”
“It’s nothing serious. There’s been a minor fraud at a corporate client of mine. The police are looking into that. And they’re investigating me, as they think I could be in on it.”
“Gosh, how awful!”
Yosaku owned his own tax accounting business. Most of his clients were small and medium-sized businesses, and with the recent recession, things were probably rocky for some of them, Reiko guessed.
Yosaku flung the top on the floor in front of Shota. It started spinning, but soon toppled over. Shota was nonetheless delighted.
“I seem to have lost the knack. I was quite a spin master back in the day.” Yosaku picked the top up off the floor.
It was after ten o’clock by the time Katsuya Kishida came home. His face was flushed, and Reiko wondered if he had been drinking. Loosening his tie as he entered the apartment, he went straight to the kitchen for a drink of water.
“Pizza again tonight? What the hell!” he commented. He must have noticed the empty box.
“What’s it to you? You were out having some fancy dinner.”
“I don’t go out for fun, you know. It’s called relationship building. It’s the nutrition aspect that worries me. It’s not good for a growing boy to eat nothing but this crap day in, day out.”
“He doesn’t eat ‘nothing but crap.’ You know I cook plenty of proper meals.”
“Not sure I’d describe frozen food and boil-in-the-bag meals as proper myself—” retorted Katsuya, opening the refrigerator. He stopped mid-harangue. “Oh, was someone here today?”
He must have spotted the box of cream puffs.
“Yosaku dropped by.”
“My old man? Again? What did he want this time?” Katsuya undid the top few buttons of his shirt, pulled it open, and flung himself onto the sofa.
“He was asking about that business with the police the day before yesterday. You told him they’d come by.”
“That? What did my old man have to say about it?”
Reiko recounted her conversation with Yosaku. Katsuya’s brow furrowed.
“Dirty dealings at a client company, eh? Doesn’t sound like good news for him.”
Katsuya picked up the string for the top from the table. Shota was already asleep.
“Is your father’s firm all right? You don’t think it’s going to collapse because of this?”
“No chance. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Winding the string around the top, Katsuya threw it vigorously across the floor. Failing to spin, it bounced a few times before crashing into the skirting board.
“Don’t go making dents in the walls.”
“That’s funny.” Katsuya cocked his head as he got to his feet and went to retrieve the top. “I used to be pretty good.”
“Oh, I’ve just remembered. The credit card company called today.”
Katsuya froze in his tracks.
“What did they want?”
“Something about payment. They asked me to give them your mobile number, so they’ll probably contact you tomorrow. Don’t tell me you’re back doing that again?”
“Doing what again?”
“Getting behind on the payments. You can get in serious trouble.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Really? I wouldn’t know.”
“What’s with the attitude? I’m not the only one who spends money around here. You don’t exactly take it easy with the family credit card.”
“My card’s got a very low limit. One or two stores, and I’m maxed out.”
“You’re still spending money.” Katsuya smacked the top back on the table, grabbed his jacket, and left the room.
Reiko sighed and switched on the TV. It was a fifty-inch flat-screen, which she’d just bought earlier this year. After shopping, watching her favorite movies was what she liked to do best.
Despite Katsuya’s insisting that there was nothing to worry about, Reiko suspected that he’d fallen behind again. It had happened once before, and Yosaku had to bail him out.
Reiko and Katsuya had gotten married six years ago. They’d been in the same high school class and dated for more than five years. Katsuya wasn’t interested in getting married straight out of college. He claimed that, what with this being his first job, he needed more time to get his feet under him. Reiko knew what he really meant: that he wanted to play the field a bit more before making a commitment. The last thing she wanted was for him to keep her dangling, only to dump her. She’d been so sure that they were going to get married that she’d never bothered to look for a job.
She decided to trick Katsuya into marrying her. It was hardly rocket science. All she needed to do was to get pregnant. Since Katsuya always left Reiko to take the necessary precautions, he didn’t suspect a thing when she assured him that “today was a safe day.” Sure enough, Reiko conceived. Initially, Katsuya wasn’t thrilled, but when the parents on both sides welcomed the news, he decided that getting married was a pretty good idea after all.
Reiko had no major complaints about married life. Looking after her boy was quite demanding, but her mother, who was still on the young side, lent a helping hand, meaning she could do what she had to without stressing out. Since her parents lived nearby, she could leave Shota with them whenever she wanted to go out with her college friends. Not having to worry about money was the thing she liked best. Reiko had no idea what Katsuya’s salary was or how much he had in the way of savings. Within the bounds of common sense, she bought whatever she wanted and ate whatever she was in the mood for.
She had a vague notion that the two of them lived luxuriously compared to other young couples, but Katsuya never really demanded that she cut back, and she took that as a sign that everything was okay.
Besides, thought Reiko, even if their bank account dried up, they’d be fine. They could always fall back on Yosaku. If Katsuya was behind on his credit card payments, Yosaku would be happy to bail him out again.
3
“Hello,” said someone. Masayo looked up. Detective Kaga was standing in the doorway.
“Oh, hi there, Mr. Detective. What are you after today?” Masayo took off her reading glasses.
“I wouldn’t really say that I’m after anything. I just came by to say thank you.” Kaga held out a white shopping bag as he strolled over to her desk. There was a white box inside. “This is for your help with the investigation. These are fruit pastries and sweet almond jellies. I hope you like them.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” Masayo took the bag.
Kaga had come by three days ago. Wondering if he’d made any progress, Masayo just came out and asked.
Kaga nodded. “Thanks to you, we found a clue that should help us unravel the case. It won’t be long now.”