Содзи Симада - Murder in the Crooked House

The magazine wasn’t upside-down as such, but Kikuoka couldn’t be finding it easy to read. He’d previously let slip that he couldn’t see any letters close up without his reading glasses, and he didn’t appear to be wearing them right now.

Kikuoka looked up from his magazine as if he had just now noticed Eiko (although it made no sense that he wouldn’t have looked up the moment the door opened).

“Oh, Ms Hamamoto!” he said cordially, giving himself away by being anxious to speak before she did. “We’ve just been sorting out my schedule. Lots of things to do.”

There wasn’t a single document or appointment diary on the table, the company president was busy reading a magazine and his secretary was staring at a painting on the wall. There was no indication that anyone was doing any scheduling.

“I was just stopping by to see if you needed anything,” said Eiko.

“Need anything? Oh, no. How could anyone be dissatisfied with a wonderful room like this? And it’s my second time here.”

“Yes, but some of our guests are here for the first time.”

“What? Oh, I see! This young lady. Oh, don’t worry. I’ve explained everything she needs to know.”

“Have you plenty of hot water?” Eiko asked.

“Hot water? Yes, I believe so.”

“And how was it in Room 1?” she said, turning to Kumi.

“What? Oh, me?”

“There’s no one else here from Room 1.”

“There was hot water.”

“Good. So is your meeting done?”

“It’s over.”

“Then please don’t let me stop you from getting to bed. You can go to sleep anytime—in Room 1.”

Kumi was speechless.

“Kumi, I was just saying, wasn’t I, that you ought to go to bed early… I’m sorry, Ms Hamamoto, she’s afraid of sleeping alone now after that incident. You know how she saw a strange man at her window last night, you can imagine how scared she must be. She’s still so young, so very childlike.”

Kikuoka laughed.

Eiko didn’t appreciate this explanation at all. However young Kumi might be, she was only about the same age as Eiko herself—maybe there was a year between them at most.

“So you needed your father to read you a bedtime story?”

Kumi turned and glared at Eiko. But she was only able to hold it for a few moments before suddenly dashing for the doorway, slipping past the mistress of the house and scurrying off down the corridor, footsteps echoing behind her. Eiko smiled sweetly.

“If she’s got that much energy, then she’ll be fine sleeping alone.”

She left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Hey, Hatsue, come and see! The blizzard’s getting heavier, and I think I can just about make out something that looks like an ice floe.”

They’d left behind the busy salon and come up to their quiet room on the north side of the house, but now the sound of the wind and the rattling of the window frame seemed much louder than before. It was a full-on blizzard. And all of a sudden, Michio Kanai’s usual demeanour had changed. He seemed to have developed a backbone.

“Now this is what you call a snowstorm! It’s really desolate. We’ve come all the way to the farthest north point—the Okhotsk Sea. How about that? Face to face with the wildest that Mother Nature can bring. This is awesome. Makes you feel like a real man.”

He continued to peer out of the window.

“The view from this room is great. Doesn’t matter if it’s clear or snowing. I think it’ll be even better tomorrow morning. Can’t wait… Hey, aren’t you going to look?”

His wife had flopped down on the bed and just answered in a tone that said she couldn’t be bothered,

“I don’t want to see.”

“Are you sleepy already?”

Hatsue didn’t reply. It wasn’t that she was especially sleepy.

“I don’t know—that Ueda,” he went on. “Somehow now that he’s been killed I can’t help feeling that he was a decent bloke—you know. When he was alive, I always found him kind of awkward—a bit slow on the uptake…”

Kanai had completely misunderstood the reason for his wife’s depressed mood.

“I’m going to make sure the room’s tightly closed, because there could be a stone-cold killer in this house right now, hiding there in the midst of everyone. This has turned into a right dangerous mess. We wouldn’t have come if we’d known all this was going to happen. But I do think we need to take care. Those detectives kept repeating ‘lock up’ and ‘secure your room’. We should be careful too. Did you lock the door?”

“I just can’t stand that woman. She gets worse every time I see her.”

Hatsue’s comment took her husband completely by surprise. He was struck dumb for a moment, but his expression quickly became irritated. If Eiko had been there in the room, in one evening alone she would have seen a whole variety of faces of Michio Kanai she’d never seen before.

“What now? You’re not starting that again, are you?… Oh! You mean the director’s new squeeze? No one can ever stand his secretaries.”

Hatsue looked amazed.

“I’m not talking about his little piece of arm candy. I’m talking about that bitch, Eiko!”

“Huh?”

“Who does she think she is, calling me fat? She doesn’t have all that great a figure herself. What the hell is her problem?”

“Are you talking about what she said yesterday? Don’t be stupid, that wasn’t what she said at all.”

“That’s exactly what she meant! Didn’t you get it? That’s why everyone calls you a fool. Stand up for yourself. Can’t you see everyone’s laughing at you? They call you the limp celery.”

“What are you talking about?”

“How can you not see it? Acting all moonstruck, going around simpering, Ms Hamamoto, your skill on the piano is superb! I would love to hear some more! Why are you trying to worm your way into the affections of such a child? You’re an executive. Top management. Behave like it! You’re making me ashamed.”

“I am behaving like it.”

“You’re not! The only time you’re not smiling like a fool is when you’re with me. And then you do nothing but find fault. At home you’re always in a foul mood but when you’re out in public, you’re always sucking up to people. Try putting yourself in my shoes. She sees me as the wife of a man like that and that’s why she treats me that way. That’s what’s really happening, isn’t it?”

“That’s just the salaryman’s lot. Sometimes that stuff is unavoidable.”

“It’s not just sometimes. That’s why I’m bringing it up!”

“And who do you think you owe it all to—that you even have the opportunity to complain like this? There are wives all over Japan stuck in public housing, never able to go out anywhere, go travelling. But you can call yourself an executive’s wife now, you’ve got your own house, and a car to drive yourself wherever you want. Who do you owe all that to?”

“Am I supposed to say that I owe it all to your bowing and scraping and fawning over everybody?”

“Exactly!”

“Really, now?”

“Well, how else do you expect me to have got where I am?”

“Have you heard what that old lech, Kikuoka, and his slut secretary call you? It’ll open your eyes.”

“What does the wilting old chrysanthemum call me?”

“He calls you ‘that brown-noser, Kanai’.”

“Everybody says that kind of thing behind people’s backs. It’s not a bad price to pay for a generous annual bonus.”

“But people are bothered by the way you suck up to the old walrus. There’s no way I’d be caught doing that.”

“You think it’s fun for me? The only way I’ve ever been able to stand it is by thinking of my wife and children. I’m doing it with clenched teeth. You should be thanking me. You’ve no right to complain at all. Or perhaps I shouldn’t have brought you? Eh?”