Keigo Higashino: Malice

“Yeah, now that you mention it, it did.” I laughed.

“Yeah, her last name’s Niimi. Lives down the street. She might look young, but she’s definitely over forty. Rie thinks she’s married, but that her husband works in another city and they have one of those distance-marriage arrangements.”

“You seem to know her. Are you friends?”

“Hardly.” He opened the window and closed the screen. A warm breeze blew in, carrying with it the smell of leaves. “Quite the opposite, actually. I believe she has a grudge against me.”

“A grudge? What for?”

“A cat. Her cat died the other day. Apparently she found it lying by the road. When she took it to a veterinarian, he told her he thought it had been poisoned.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“She thinks I’m responsible. That I put out a poisoned meatball and her cat ate it.”

“Seriously? Why would she think that?”

“Oh, that’s the best part.” Hidaka pulled a magazine off the bookshelf and opened it. “Take a look.”

It was an essay, entitled “The Limits of Patience,” and Hidaka’s photo was next to the title. The essay was about a cat that had a habit of wandering onto the author’s property and bothering him. Every morning, he found cat poop in the garden, pawprints on the hood of his car, and his potted plants shredded. He’d seen a white-and-brown-speckled cat around, knew it was the culprit, but could do nothing about it. He’d tried everything he could think of but nothing worked. An old wives’ tale says that cats are afraid of their reflections, so, in desperation, he lined up plastic bottles filled with water in the hope that the cat would see itself in these makeshift mirrors and be scared away. But that didn’t work at all. The gist of this short essay was that the limits of his patience were tested daily.

“And the deceased was a white-and-brown-speckled cat?” I asked.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“I see. No wonder she thinks you’re the culprit.”

“Last week, she comes over with this dark look on her face. She didn’t accuse me of poisoning her cat outright, but she implied it strongly. Rie told her she was crazy and sent her packing. I thought that was end of it… but if she’s been snooping around in the garden, I must still be her prime suspect. She’s probably looking for poisoned meatballs.”

“Persistent, isn’t she?”

“Oh, women like that always are.”

“Doesn’t she know you’re moving to Canada?”

“Rie explained that we were moving to Vancouver in a week, so why would we worry about a cat we only had to deal with a little while longer? She may not look it, but when it comes to a fight, Rie can really dig in.” Hidaka laughed deeply.

“Well, she has a point. I can’t see any reason why you guys would bother to kill that cat.”

For some reason, Hidaka didn’t respond right away. He just grinned, looking out the window. He finished his coffee before saying, “I did do it, you know.”

“Huh?” I said, unable to grasp his meaning immediately. “Did what?”

“I killed the cat. I killed it with poisoned meatballs that I put out in our garden. I didn’t really think it would work, at least not as well as it did.”

I thought he was pulling my leg until I saw his face. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that went with a joke.

“Where did you get the poisoned meatballs?”

“That part was easy. I just mixed in some pesticide with cat food and left them out in the garden. A cat will eat anything, you know.” Hidaka put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, taking a leisurely drag. The smoke dissipated in the breeze coming in through the window.

“But, why?” To tell the truth, I was a little disturbed by this revelation.

“I told you we haven’t found a tenant yet?” His cold smile faded.

“Uh-huh.”

“Our real estate agent’s still looking, but when he was here the other day, he said something that bothered me.”

“What’s that?”

“He didn’t think it made a good impression to have all those plastic bottles lined up in front of the house. It would make people think we had a problem with strays, which would make it hard to rent.”

“So just throw away the bottles. They didn’t work, anyway.”

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t solve the basic problem. What happens if someone comes here to check out the place and there’s cat shit all over the garden? If we’re here, we can clean it up, but what happens once we leave? I can’t have the place smelling like a litter box.”

“So you killed the cat?”

“Hey, the owner’s as responsible for what happened as I am. Not that she seems to understand that at all.” Hidaka stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray.

“Does Rie know?”

The corner of his mouth curled up in another smile and he shook his head. “Are you kidding? Women love cats. If I told her the truth, she’d think I was the devil incarnate.”

I sat in silence, at a loss for how to respond. Just then, the phone rang and Hidaka picked it up.

“Hello?… Oh, hi. I was wondering when you’d call…. Yes, all according to schedule…. Hey, okay, you got me. I was just about to start…. Sure, I should be able to get it done tonight…. Right, I’ll send it along as soon as it’s finished…. No, actually, this phone will be out of service after noon tomorrow. I’ll have to call you…. Yes, from the hotel. Right, bye.”

He hung up and gave a little sigh.

“Your editor?”

“Yes. My articles are usually late, but this time the stakes are a little bit higher. I mean, if he doesn’t get it from me tonight, then he won’t have it in time. I’ll be out of the country by the day after tomorrow.”

“Well.” I stood from my chair. “I should probably get going then. I don’t want to throw you off schedule.”

The doorbell rang. “It’s probably just a salesman,” Hidaka said, but then we heard Rie walking down the hallway, followed by a knock at the office door.

“Yeah?” Hidaka called out.

She opened the door and peered in, a dark look on her face. “It’s Ms. Fujio,” she said quietly.

Hidaka’s face clouded over like the sky before a squall. “Not her again.”

“She says it’s something she needs to talk to you about today.”

“Great.” Hidaka chewed his lip. “She must’ve found out we’re moving to Canada.”

“Should I say you’re busy?”

“Yeah”—then, after a moment of thought—“no, I’ll see her. Might as well get it over with now so I don’t have to think about it later. You can let her up.”

“If you’re sure…” Rie glanced in my direction.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I said. “I was just leaving.”

“Well, this is a fine pickle,” Hidaka said with a sigh after she’d left the room.

“Is that Fujio as in Masaya Fujio?”

“Yeah, it’s his sister. Her name’s Miyako.” Hidaka scratched his forehead beneath the longish locks of his hair. “If she just wanted some cash, that’d be easy enough. But a total recall? Rewrites? Give me a break.”

More footsteps sounded in the hall. Hidaka’s mouth snapped shut. I heard Rie apologizing for the lack of lights. A knock.

“Yes?” Hidaka said.

“Ms. Fujio,” Rie said, opening the door.

Behind her stood a woman in her late twenties. She had long hair and was wearing the kind of suit that college grads wear to their first job interview. For an unexpected visitor, she had put a lot of attention into her presentation.

“So, I’ll see you later,” I said to Hidaka. I was about to tell him I’d come to see him off the day after tomorrow, but checked myself. I didn’t know for sure if Ms. Fujio knew he was leaving and didn’t want to rock any boats. Hidaka nodded quietly.