Natsumi saw a silhouette from the outside of the sliding glass door. She was on her feet before the door even opened.
It was Yukawa who walked in. “Welcome,” said Natsumi with studied cheerfulness.
Yukawa looked around the restaurant and selected a four-person table.
“Beer and the takiawase. Then I’ll have the miso-simmered mackerel,” Yukawa said, as he wiped his hands on the wet towel Natsumi had handed him.
She went back to the kitchen and relayed the order to Yutaro, then returned, carrying a tray with a bottle of beer, a glass, and the day’s appetizer to Yukawa’s table. The appetizer of the day was spicy konnyaku.
“This is unusual timing for you.”
“Someone I’d not seen for years dropped by to see me and we got to talking.”
“Oh, that’s what happened. I suppose the people who drop in to see you are all physicists?”
“No, it was the antithesis of a physicist.” Taking off his glasses, Yukawa began wiping the lenses with a cloth. “In fact, it was a detective.”
“What?... Another detective came to see you?”
“This was a different detective, one I’ve known for a long time.”
“Oh really?”
A physicist and a detective — what can the link between them be? Natsumi wondered.
“By the way, has Mr. Tojima been in yet?” asked Yukawa, putting his spectacles back on his nose.
“Tojima? Not yet, but he’ll be here soon enough. Have you arranged to meet him?”
“No. I just thought it’d be nice to have someone to chat to. He’s about the only regular I know who’s always here at this time.”
“You’re right about that.”
Even after Hasunuma’s death, her father’s childhood friend Tojima was still coming to the restaurant regularly, and would make a point of asking Natsumi if everything was all right. He would never get too specific, but it was obvious that, in his own way, he was worried about her and her parents. Natsumi was grateful.
Yukawa had nearly finished his dinner by the time the man in question appeared. “Evening all. Hey there, Professor. Okay if I sit with you?” said Tojima, already pulling out a chair for himself on the opposite side of the table.
“Go ahead,” conceded Yukawa with a smile.
Tojima ordered his usual beer.
“The professor was waiting for you to show up. Said he wanted somebody to talk to.”
Tojima grinned.
“I’m honored. If you’re okay with an old geezer like me, I’m happy to have a drink with you anytime. I should warn that I don’t have a whole lot to talk about. I’m not a betting man and I don’t have any interesting hobbies.”
“Perhaps your work is your hobby?”
“That’s a nice way to put it, but yes, I suppose it is.” Tojima patted his hair, which was combed straight back from his forehead.
When Natsumi brought him a bottle of beer, he filled his glass and clinked glasses with Yukawa.
“Shall we talk about your work, then?” Yukawa said. “Now, if I remember right, the firm you manage is a food processor. What’s your big product?”
“You really want to know?” Tojima sipped his beer appreciatively. “Well, our biggest earner right now is boil-in-the bag foods. They can be stored at room temperature, which makes them very popular these days, when e-commerce is such a big thing. And actually, they don’t taste half bad. You wouldn’t want to compare them with the food you get here at Namiki-ya, but they can certainly hold their own against your average restaurant.”
“Interesting. How about frozen food?”
“Of course, we handle that, too,” Tojima said. “It’s a key product line, up there with boil-in-the-bag. The big sellers are fried rice dishes and gyoza dumplings.”
“What kind of freezers do you use?”
“Huh—? Freezers? When you say what type...?”
“There are different types of freezers: screw compressor, reciprocating compressor, and so on. What type do you use at your factory?”
Tojima laughed and threw himself back in his chair.
“The things you academics are interested in! Not like ordinary people. Do you really care?”
“I’m sorry. People often tell me I’m weird.”
“I think it’s great. What was the question again?”
“About the freezers you use.”
“Oh, of course. We mainly use the screw-compressor type.”
“You said mainly. Have you got some other ones, too?”
“Yes, for very specific purposes...”
“The cell walls of food suffer less damage if food is frozen very fast, don’t they? I assume you use a special quick freezer for the more delicate foods?”
“I’ll be damned. You really know your stuff.” Tojima sounded rather less enthusiastic than before.
There was the rattle of the sliding door. Looking toward the entrance, Natsumi saw a middle-aged woman walk in. She wasn’t a regular, although she did come in from time to time. She held up four fingers. “Party of four?” she said.
“Yes, no problem. Please, come in.” Natsumi led the group to a table for six.
After that group, a second group — three women of around the same age as the first group — came in. As they settled down, Natsumi handed them their cold rolled towels and took their orders. She got the impression from the way they spoke to one another that they were old friends. They had just been to see a play and were all chattering away at the top of their voices.
As she moved back and forth between their table and the kitchen, Natsumi could no longer keep tabs on Yukawa and Tojima’s conversation. Things seemed to be going less than swimmingly. The expression on Tojima’s face was getting grimmer by the minute.
Yukawa eventually raised his hand and summoned Natsumi over to the table. “Could I get the check, please?” he asked.
He settled up. “That was most informative. Thanks very much,” he said to Tojima and left the restaurant.
Tojima then asked for his check. Natsumi worked out what he owed and brought the check to his seat.
“What time did the professor get here tonight?” Tojima inquired in a low voice, as he dug a handful of thousand yen notes out of his wallet.
“About eight, I think.”
“Doesn’t he normally come earlier?”
“Yes, he does. He was catching up with an old friend. That’s why he was later than usual today.” Perhaps influenced by Tojima, Natsumi also lowered her voice. “His friend is a detective.”
“A detective?” Tojima’s eyebrows shot up. “What business does an academic have with a detective?”
“I didn’t ask...”
Tojima looked preoccupied and said nothing.
When Natsumi returned with his change, Tojima put it in his wallet without checking it and without a word of thanks. He marched to the back of the restaurant and said a few words to Yutaro in the kitchen. Eventually, he turned away from the counter and headed for the door. “Thank you very much. Good night,” he said to Natsumi and went out.
Natsumi peered into the kitchen. Yutaro was busy at the fryer.
“Daddy, what did old Tojima say to you?”
“Nothing much. Just some neighborhood gossip,” Yutaro replied, without leaving off his work.
Natsumi’s and Machiko’s eyes met. Her mother, who was standing farther back in the kitchen, had her head cocked slightly to one side. Natsumi guessed that she hadn’t heard what the two men had been talking about, either.
“What are you doing staring into space like that?” Yutaro said to Machiko. “Get a move on or the food will get cold.”
“Oh... ah... sorry.” She quickly put a rolled omelet onto a plate.