Содзи Симада - Murder in the Crooked House

“So far so good. But it’s still early yet. Nothing to report.”

“S’pose not.” Okuma sounded half asleep still.

“I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t get to sleep with the noise of the wind,” said Ozaki.

“What happened to Anan?”

“He was playing all night, so I don’t expect he’ll be getting up any time soon,” said Okuma.

The next to come down was Hatsue Kanai, then Eiko, followed closely by Kumi Aikura. But more than an hour later the rest of the party still hadn’t shown up.

Everyone was drinking hot tea as they waited.

“What shall we do? Should I go and wake them?” Eiko asked Kozaburo.

“No, let them sleep.”

Just then there was the sound of a car coming up the hill, followed by a young man’s voice calling from the front entrance hall.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

“Just a minute!”

Eiko went out to see who was there. A moment later she let out a shriek that had the three police officers start after her, but she immediately reappeared with an enormous bunch of irises.

“Did you order these, Dad?”

“I did. Winter is so dreary without any flowers. I had them flown in.”

“Dad, you’re the best!”

Behind her was the sound of the car going back down the hill. Eiko laid the irises gently on the table.

“You and Chikako divide them up and put some in here and everyone’s rooms. There should be a vase in every room. If there isn’t, I know we’ve got a few extra around somewhere. I know we have enough.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Let’s do it right away. Auntie! Auntie!”

The guests volunteered to go and fetch the vases from each of their rooms. Right about the time the flowers had been divided up, Sasaki and Togai finally appeared, but went right back out again to fetch the vases from their rooms.

At that point it was almost 11.00 a.m. Eiko took some of the flowers and went to wake Yoshihiko. That was when Constable Anan finally turned up.

At 11.50 a.m. everyone was assembled in the salon except Eikichi Kikuoka. No one had considered disturbing a company president from his sleep. But now that they thought about it, it was strange that he wasn’t already up. He’d gone to bed early the night before. It had been around 9 o’clock when he’d left the salon. He’d stopped by the Kanais’ room after that, but he must have been back in his own room by 9.30. For him to still be asleep past 11 the next morning…

“Strange…” mumbled Kanai. “Perhaps he’s not feeling well?”

“Should we go and check on him?” said Kumi. “But then again he might be in a bad mood if we wake him up.”

“I hope he hasn’t been—” said Okuma, stopping himself. “I reckon it’s safer if we do wake him up.”

“All right, then, let’s take him some flowers,” said Kozaburo. “Eiko, pass me that vase.”

“But this one belongs in the salon.”

“It doesn’t matter. This room’ll be just fine without flowers… Thanks. Shall we all go and check on him?”

Everyone made their way down to Room 14 in the basement. Kozaburo knocked on the door.

“Mr Kikuoka? It’s Hamamoto.”

Chief Inspector Ushikoshi had an attack of déjà vu. Last night he had participated in the exact same scene, except that at that time Kozaburo had called his name with less urgency.

“He’s not waking up.” Kozaburo turned to Kumi. “You try, dear. He might respond better to a woman’s voice.”

But the result was the same. Everyone exchanged looks, but Ushikoshi’s face turned completely white.

“Mr Kikuoka! Mr Kikuoka!”

He began to bang violently on the door.

“What the hell? Come on!”

The detective’s panicked tone made everyone’s stomach drop.

“Can I break it down?”

“Yes, but…”

Kozaburo hesitated a moment. This was his beloved study after all.

“From up there, can’t you see inside a little bit?”

Sasaki was pointing to the ventilation hole high up in the wall. But there weren’t any tables or chairs or anything that could be used to stand on.

“Ozaki, wasn’t there something in your room?” said Ushikoshi, but Ozaki was ahead of him. He ran into Room 15 and came back with the bedside table, then placed it directly under the vent and clambered up.

“It’s no good. I’m too low to see anything.”

“The stepladder!” shouted Kozaburo. “Kajiwara, isn’t there a ladder in the outside shed? Run and get it!”

Time crawled by as they waited for Kajiwara to get back with the ladder. When he did, he set it up and climbed to the top.

“What the…”

“Is he dead?”

“Has he been killed?”

The police officers were anxious for news.

“No. Mr Kikuoka isn’t in his bed. But there’s something on the bed that looks like blood.”

“What? Where is he?”

“I can’t see. Not from here. I can only see the area around the bed.”

“Let’s break it down.”

Ushikoshi was not going to wait for permission this time. He and Okuma threw themselves against the door.

“I don’t mind, but this door is particularly sturdy. And the lock is custom-made. It’s not going to break that easily. And I’m afraid there isn’t a duplicate key.”

What Kozaburo said seemed to be true. Even with Constable Anan joining the other two, the weight of three men slamming against it, the door didn’t budge.

“The axe!” shouted Kozaburo. “Kajiwara, go back to the shed. There’s an axe in there, right?”

Kajiwara shot off.

When he returned with the axe, Anan told everyone to get out of the way, and held them back with outstretched arms. Okuma lifted the axe. It was clear to everyone that this was not the first time this man had chopped wood. Soon woodchips and splinters were flying, and a crack opened in the door.

“No, not that spot. It won’t work.”

Kozaburo stepped forward from the group of onlookers.

“Here, here and here. Hit it in those three spots.”

Kozaburo indicated spots at the top, bottom and the very middle of the door. Okuma looked dubious.

“You’ll see when you break it.”

Okuma managed to make three holes, then tried to stick his hand inside. Ushikoshi pulled out a white handkerchief and offered it to Okuma, who wrapped it around his hand.

“Near the top and the bottom of the door are two bolts that you have to turn to lock or release. Reach in and turn them. The upper bolt will swing downwards. The lower one will lift upwards.”

Because it was so hard to picture, the instructions were difficult to follow, and it took Okuma a long time.

When the bolts were finally undone, the police officers all tried to rush in at once, but the door hit something and got stuck. Ozaki pushed on it with all his strength, and it opened far enough to reveal something that looked like a sofa stuck behind the door. Weirdly, it was the base of the sofa that was visible from the outside—in other words, it had been tipped over on its back. Ozaki stuck a leg through the gap and tried to kick it away.

“Don’t be so rough!” said Ushikoshi. “You’ll disturb the crime scene. Just get the door open.”

When the door finally opened, the semicircle of onlookers gasped. It wasn’t only the sofa; the coffee table was overturned too. Beyond that lay the bulky, pyjama-clad form of Eikichi Kikuoka. There were clear signs that he’d fought, but now he lay face down, a knife protruding from the right side of his back.

“Mr Kikuoka!” cried Kozaburo.

“Mr President!” This from Kanai.

“Daddy!” blurted Kumi.

The police officers all hurried in.

“Damn it!”

The voice came from directly behind them. As Ozaki turned to look there was a smashing noise, and the flower vase was suddenly in pieces on the floor.