Содзи Симада - Murder in the Crooked House

“Damn, damn! I’m sorry.”

Kozaburo had attempted to follow the police into the room and had tripped on the upturned sofa.

The irises lay scattered over Kikuoka’s ample body.

“I’m really terribly sorry. Shall I pick them up?”

“Never mind. It’s fine. We’ll do it. Please stay back. Ozaki, pick up the flowers.”

Ushikoshi surveyed the crime scene. (See Fig. 7.) There was a lot of blood—a little on the bed sheets, some more on the electric blanket that had slipped off and was now on the floor, and much more on the Persian rug that decorated the parquet floor.

The bed was bolted to the floor so it hadn’t moved from its original spot. The only furniture that had been moved was the sofa and the coffee table, and both of these had been tipped on their side. At first glance there didn’t seem to be anything else out of place or broken. There was a gas fire in the fireplace, but it wasn’t on, and the stopcock was closed.

Ushikoshi examined the knife in Kikuoka’s back. Two things surprised him; first, that the knife was stuck very deeply in, right up to the handle. It must have been plunged in there with all the killer’s might. But more surprising was that the knife was identical to the one that had killed Ueda—a hunting knife with a piece of white string tied to the handle. The victim’s pyjamas were soaked in blood, but the string was completely clean.

The knife was in the right side of Kikuoka’s back so it had missed his heart.

“He’s dead,” said Ozaki.

This meant that he must have died of blood loss. Ushikoshi looked back at the door.

“That’s impossible!”

The words had slipped out. But how could it be?…

It was the most solid door he had ever seen. Looking at it now from the inside, he realized that it had been made as sturdy as anyone could wish. The door itself was made of thick oak, and its lock was completely different from the simple one on Ueda’s door. There were three separate locking systems. It was as well constructed as a vault.

The first lock was a button in the centre of the doorknob that you pushed in, the same type as on all the doors in the mansion. The other two were quite a tour de force. On the upper section and lower sections of the door, there were two bolts installed, with metal cylinders that were at least three centimetres in diameter. Each one required turning 180 degrees until they dropped into place. No matter how adept somebody might be, there was no way the locks could be manipulated from outside the room. And the door frame was just as sturdily constructed—there was not a millimetre of space on any side.

Ushikoshi couldn’t comprehend how the room had got in such disorder and a knife had been plunged into the victim’s back. However, he decided to feign complete calm.

“Ozaki, please escort everyone to the salon. Anan, call the station.”

“What to do about these pieces of vase?” asked Okuma.

“Just pick them up and chuck ’em away.”

Along with my own reputation, thought Ushikoshi morosely.

Another team of around a dozen police officers swarmed up the hill, and the mansion became a hive of activity again. Ushikoshi felt steadily more defeated by the moment. What kind of bloodthirsty monster was responsible for this? Four police officers had spent the night in the house. Could the killer not have shown some restraint? Why did he have to escalate to serial murder? And why the locked-room scenario? It wasn’t as if either of the deaths could have been suicide. You’d have to be crazy to think it. In Kikuoka’s case the knife was in his back, no less!

He’d been publicly humiliated. And this wasn’t going to be easily forgiven. He’d completely miscalculated, made wrong assumptions. As a police officer he shouldn’t have dismissed the possibility that it would turn into a serial murder. He was going to have to start over from the beginning.

That evening he got the time of death from forensics—11 p.m. or within thirty minutes either side.

“Let’s get on with the questioning.”

Ushikoshi addressed the surviving guests, hosts and house staff in the salon.

“Last night between 10.30 and 11.30, what was each of you doing, and where?”

Instantly, Sasaki spoke up.

“We were still in the salon. That police officer was with us.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Togai and me. And Yoshihiko. And then Mr and Mrs Hayakawa and Mr Kajiwara. Six of us.”

“I see. Until what time?”

“Past 2 in the morning. I looked at the clock and saw it was already 2 a.m., so we all hurried off to bed.”

“All six of you?”

“No.”

It was Chikako Hayakawa who spoke.

“Actually, we went to bed around 11.30.”

“‘We’ being you and your husband?”

“And me too,” said Kajiwara.

“So you are saying that all three of you passed by the door of Room 14 around 11.30 last night?”

“No. We don’t go that way. After you go down the stairs, you turn the opposite way to get to our rooms.”

“Hmm. And you didn’t notice any strange noises or figures in the vicinity of Room 14?”

“Well, the wind was so loud.”

“True…”

Ushikoshi decided that it was a close call, but timewise, he could probably exclude the three staff members from the list of suspects. However, it was very significant that three people had passed close by the door of Room 14 around 11.30. The killer must have already done the deed and left by then.

“So the other three of you were in the salon until 2 a.m.?”

“That’s correct. With Constable Anan.”

“Anan, is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

So Sasaki, Togai and Yoshihiko could safely be excluded too. Kozaburo Hamamoto had spent the evening with Ushikoshi himself, so he could be counted out completely.

“Mr Hayakawa, did you lock up completely last night?”

“I did it around 5 yesterday evening. After the first murder, figured we couldn’t be too careful.”

“Hmm.”

That confirmed that somewhere in this house was a homicidal maniac. In other words, the killer was sitting there right before his eyes, one of these eleven people. He’d already ruled out seven of them. That left Eiko Hamamoto, Kumi Aikura, and Michio and Hatsue Kanai. Four suspects, and most of them women!

“Ms Eiko Hamamoto and Ms Kumi Aikura, where were you?”

“I was in my room.”

“Me too.”

“In other words, neither of you has an alibi?”

The two women turned a little pale.

“But…”

Kumi seemed to be working something out in her head.

“To get from Room 1 to Room 14, you’d have to go through the salon. The police constable and the others were all in there.”

“That’s right. That goes for me too. There’s absolutely no way to get to Room 14. That room is in the basement, and has no windows. Even if we’d taken an outdoor route, there’s no way in.”

“I see.”

“Just a… Hang on there!”

Michio Kanai was in a state of panic.

“Does that mean that we’re suspects? I was in Room 9 the whole time. My wife can attest to it!”

“Well, in the case of a husband and wife—”

“No, no… Listen! I’m the one most affected by this murder. And therefore my wife too. Mr Kikuoka’s death is the severest blow to us both. I hate to put it this way, but I’m going to have to say it. At the company, I’ve always been a Kikuoka supporter, among all the company factions. I’ve been his follower, if you like, for fifteen years or so. It’s been thanks to Mr Kikuoka that I’ve got where I am. You can investigate me all you like. Go ahead! But my future without the president is bleak. I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like for me tomorrow now. There was no reason for me to kill him. I have no motive whatsoever. In fact if anyone had tried to kill Mr Kikuoka, I would have had to do everything I could to protect him. For my own sake. There’s no way I could have killed him. Apart from anything, look at me! I’m a wimp. Do you see this feeble body winning a face-off against that man? It wasn’t me. No way. And for all the exact same reasons, it wasn’t my wife either.”