Masako Togawa - The Master Key

Yoneko sat frozen in her seat. She listened in a daze to the even voice of the representative of the fifth floor as she asked the next question. ‘That’s all very well, but surely it is likely to fit several doors?’

This left Miss Tanikawa nonplussed for a moment or two.

‘Yes, well, um… Yes, maybe. Anyway, let’s just try it and see. Obviously, if we can think of a better method, we’ll switch to that when the time comes.’

And the chairman’s proposal was passed unanimously.

‘Well, let’s get started first thing tomorrow. Let’s start on the top floor and work our way down in order. Representatives are to be responsible for their own floors. Let’s try and avoid attracting attention to what we’re doing—try each door only after checking that the occupant is out. It could be embarrassing otherwise.’

‘Most people are out at work in the daytime, but what shall we say to those who aren’t?’

‘In that case, you’ll just have to play innocent. Say something like “Isn’t this your key?” and put it in the lock to see. Well, that will do for today—same time and place next week.’

Miss Tanikawa brought the meeting to a close as quickly as possible before anyone else could protract the proceedings with further discussion.

As Yoneko filed out of the room, she found the third-floor representative, the delegate for the Three Spirit Faith, awaiting her in the corridor. That lady approached her and addressed her in an unpleasant tone of voice.

‘The spirit of His Reverence descended upon you, and was within you, forcing you even against your own will to vote on our side.’

And then she went on to urge Yoneko to attend at least one of the sect’s meetings to see for herself the power of which the elder was possessed.

‘He will ease all your sufferings, however great they may be. Of course, he can heal illnesses or discover lost objects if you ask him to. At present, he is fixing his mind on something that Miss Yatabe on the first floor has mislaid. Next week, he will hold a special prayer session, and I’ve no doubt he’ll reveal where it is then. Anyway, won’t you just join us once?’

Yoneko turned her away with a non-committal reply and made her way back to her room. She had more to think of than religious meetings; however interesting they might seem. She was far more concerned about the resolution at the meeting which could lead to the discovery of her possession of the master key.

If everything proceeded according to schedule, the search would reach the fourth floor in two days’ time. On which day a senior floor representative, Taeko Nakagawa, would return from a visit to the country. And when she did, Yoneko would have to accompany her from room to room, trying the key in every door until it became clear that it was her lock in which it fitted, making public her guilt.

Now she deeply regretted the light-hearted attitude which had led her to switch the master key for her own. Why had she been so short-sighted? Looking back on her own stupidity, she could not think what had come over her to act as she had.

After supper, the corridors echoed for a while with the sound of people walking up and down, the clatter of dishes and the splash of running water in the communal washplace. Then silence fell upon the building, to occupy it, usually, for the rest of the night.

Sometimes, one would hear the sound of a radio or the muffled tones of someone practising on the trumpet. But these noises also subsided after a little while, until it became so quiet that one could hear the switches, one by one, being turned off for the night.

It was at about eight o’clock two evenings after the committee meeting. A shadowy figure crept stealthily towards Yoneko’s door, moving secretively as if not wishing to be discovered.

Yoneko was in her room, composing her third letter to her former pupil, Keiko Kawauchi. She pored over the paper on her desk, writing carefully in the dim light of her standard lamp.

Having explained how she had purloined the master key in order to get into Chikako Ueda’s room, she went on to describe that day’s events.

This afternoon, our floor was searched. There were three of us involved—myself, Miss Nakagawa and Miss Tamura from the front desk. We went from door to door, trying it in every lock. Can you imagine your teacher’s feelings, Keiko, as we got closer to my room? I still had no idea of what I would say or do when the truth came out. I suppose I’d have just tried to feign as much astonishment as everyone else when the door swung open. But fortunately things turned out better than that.

You see, we were taking it in turns to try the key, and the lot fell to me for my section of the corridor. Looking as innocent as I could, I stood in front of my own door and tried to turn the key. I must admit I felt pretty scared, but I put on a good act and, as you can imagine, somehow, however hard I tried, I could not make that key turn! Of course, I was in a cold sweat all the time! Well …

At that moment, Yoneko heard a stealthy knock on her door.

‘Who is it?’

There was no reply. Yoneko opened the door a little and peeped out into the dark passage. She could just make out a dim figure standing in the gloom. A voice as chilly and slight as the draught which was flowing into the room whispered:

‘Miss Kimura! His Reverence’s prayer meeting and revelation of lost things will take place at eight-thirty. He has given exceptional permission for you to attend the seance, so I trust you will not let us down, will you? Please come to Miss Iyoda’s room on the first floor at eight-thirty sharp.’

And without waiting for a reply, the ghost-like figure slipped away into the shadows.

The girl who disappeared thus without Yoneko getting a proper look at her was indeed a strange figure. Her child-like body was topped by an adult head; had she but known it, Yoneko’s visitor was none other than the woman nicknamed ‘Thumbelina the Vestal’.

Thumbelina reached a pool of light on the landing, and there silently held up a black notebook. She opened it and placed a mark against the name ‘Yoneko Kimura’ written there in large characters.

Her name did not belie her, for in addition to her petite stature she was, like her namesake, exquisitely beautiful. She was young, and her long black hair shone with camellia oil. It hung in a heavy mass, swinging elegantly as she moved. Perhaps she had applied white makeup to her face and neck in the old-fashioned way; in any case, her skin was unnaturally and beautifully pallid. She was dressed like a priestess from a Shinto shrine, in the traditional white coat and loose red trousers.

Having closed the notebook, she looked at the watch on her wrist. Just about eight! There was something touchingly incongruous about a watch on so tiny and childish a wrist.

She made her way up to the fifth floor and walked straight into the end room as if she was quite accustomed to doing so without knocking. This room belonged to one Haru Santo, and was next to that of Chikako Ueda.

Haru Santo was kneeling in front of her personal shrine. Apart from the candles flickering in its recesses, the room was pitch dark. Her white hair shone eerily in the gloom. The candles seemed to light up every strand as if it was burnished silver wire, making it seem artificial, rather than a natural growth.

Thumbelina the Vestal slipped in beside Haru Santo and prostrated herself thrice before the altar. Then she swivelled around on her knees, placing her beautiful face next to the old woman’s ear, and whispered something for several minutes.

When she left Haru Santo’s room twenty minutes later, it was almost time for the seance to begin. She hurriedly made her way down to the first floor.