When the unveiling party for Present City began, Komatsu was working at his office desk as usual. He wasn’t doing detective work, but programming. At this point, his side job was his main source of income, yet he would continue to call it a side job because he prided himself on being a detective.
Taking a break from his intense coding session, he looked up from his screen and saw Ensho sitting at his desk, playing a retro shooting game.
“Is that simple game really so fun?” Komatsu murmured.
“It’s good because it’s simple,” Ensho replied languidly, resting his chin on his hand.
“I guess that can be true sometimes.”
“Come to think of it, have you made any games before?”
“I’m working on game code right now, actually.”
Ensho looked up. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you make one by yourself, then? You can, right?”
Komatsu’s wife and daughter had asked him the same thing.
“I could, but it wouldn’t sell,” said Komatsu. “Making a successful game is about creativity, not programming skill.” He stretched and glanced at his watch. It was 7:35 p.m. “Oh, the party already started,” he remarked, sounding disappointed. He’d been invited too and had even helped Kiyotaka with the preparations.
“What, you wanted to go?”
“Well, yeah. There’ll probably be good food, and it’d be a nice change of pace. But I guess it’s too late now. Are you not going either?”
Ensho merely shrugged in response.
“I get it. Those kinds of gatherings make you feel awkward, right?” Komatsu laughed and brought an artificial cigarette to his mouth.
“You’re quitting smoking, old man?”
“Kind of. Going outside to smoke every time I get the urge is an inefficient use of time.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“My wife and daughter keep telling me to quit too, so I’m slowly giving it up. It’s a tough world for smokers these days. What about you, Ensho? Do you smoke?”
“I used to, but I quit without realizing it.”
“Huh?” Komatsu blinked. “Is it possible to quit so easily?”
“I didn’t do it enough to be addicted. Besides, once I start painting, I forget to eat or drink. Smoking’s even lower priority.”
Komatsu hummed in admiration. “It’s like you’re chipping away at your life to paint.”
“It ain’t intentional, though.”
“Did you also paint Present City without eating or drinking?”
“Nah,” Ensho replied with a distant look in his eyes. “For that, I ate and drank normally. I also took breaks. It was a pretty relaxing pace.”
“Oh, so that’s why it feels different.”
“Huh?” Ensho looked up.
“I guess it’s like, your previous works—the mandala and Chang’an—were the sort to be hung up at a temple, while Present City felt like it was meant to be displayed at a museum for all to see. Not saying one’s better than the other—that’s probably up to personal taste—but I like Present City. I’m no expert on paintings, but I think yours are great.”
Ensho awkwardly looked away. Praise always made him uncomfortable.
Maybe that’s why he didn’t go to the party—he can’t stand having his work praised in front of him. Komatsu resisted the urge to grin. “Oh, right, Takamiya’s background was shocking too,” he said, changing the subject. “I had no idea he lost his family in an accident.”
“Really? You’re pretty late to the party.”
“I mean, it’s not like I was interested in him to begin with. But after learning that, I did some research and found out he only had one son.”
“Yeah.”
“I got curious about his son and investigated further. Legally, of course.”
Ensho didn’t seem to care about the clarification. He gave Komatsu a look that seemed to say, Get on with it already.
“His son’s name was Tadaya Takamiya,” Komatsu continued. “He married the daughter of a corporate president, had a daughter with her, and served as a director at Takamiya’s company. Basically, his life was smooth sailing...until he died in a car accident during a family trip at the age of thirty.”
“Maybe he died so young ’cause he was too successful,” Ensho muttered to himself.
“True. But apparently this guy had his dark secrets too.”
“Hm?” Ensho looked at him.
“The reason I was interested in the son was that even though Takamiya only had that one child, he somehow had one surviving grandson. I wanted to figure out what that meant.”
“Now that you mention it, yeah.” Ensho crossed his arms.
“It turns out his grandson is the child of his son’s mistress. She was a hostess at a high-end club.”
Ensho snorted. “So the rich kid had a side chick, huh?”
“Pretty much. Takamiya seems like an upstanding guy, but I had a hunch his son was problematic. So I did some more digging and found out his son, Tadaya, was only a director at his father’s company in name, and he was making extra cash on the side.”
“From what?”
“He bought and sold jewelry. Seems like he was making a killing from gray-zone dealings, including stolen goods which sometimes got him in trouble. Remember how his accident was during a family trip? It happened on the way to the airport. Tadaya was going to Italy for work, and his family was tagging along. But Tadaya had a first-class ticket, while his family was in business class. The fact that he chose to sit separately from them says a lot about their family dynamics, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Here’s where it gets dicey. So, you know how the kiddo’s group was talking about a rare jewel? I started thinking it could have something to do with Takamiya’s son, in which case, they might wanna be careful when they ask Takamiya about it.”
“Did you tell them that?”
“Nope.” Komatsu scratched his head. “Work got busy, and I kind of just forgot. Well, knowing the kiddo, there’s no way he’d be rude about it.”
Ensho fell silent for a moment. “Why don’t you just tell him right now?”
“You think I should?”
“If he’s the one questioning the old man, it’s fine. But if it’s Yilin, she’ll probably screw up.”
“Oh, that’s a good point.” Komatsu took out his phone and called Kiyotaka. No response. “He didn’t pick up. Is he in the middle of a dance or something?”
Ensho burst out laughing. “A dance? It ain’t that kind of party.”
“True.” Komatsu chuckled. “Well, I’ll leave him a text message.”
Before the detective could send the message, Ensho stood up. “It’s fine. I’ll go. I gotta ask him something anyway.”
✦ ✦ ✦
It was an unveiling party for his own painting. While Ensho thought it was a waste of time, he also couldn’t help but be curious—not about the party itself, but about the reactions people would have to his work. In the end, maybe he just wanted an excuse to go.
“Even I think I’m being a pain.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly as he walked to Takamiya’s residence.
The doors were wide open, allowing him to hear the waltz being played inside.
“Wait, did they seriously make this a huge affair?”
He suddenly recalled Komatsu’s words: “Is he in the middle of a dance or something?”
It can’t be. Ensho shrugged. Dancing at a painting unveiling? There’s no way. He peered through the doors, and his jaw dropped. Kiyotaka was dancing. “Wait, really?”
It wasn’t just Kiyotaka who was dancing. Ensho caught sight of several other pairs, but Kiyotaka stood out as if there were a spotlight on him. What was more, his partner wasn’t Aoi—it was that bratty rich girl from Hong Kong.
“What the hell is going on here? Has he lost his mind?” Ensho was shocked, but then he saw Yilin invite Takamiya to dance. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It’s still weird, though.” He tilted his head. Don’t they have other ways to talk to Takamiya without dancing?
Still, this meant it was too late to warn them. Yilin was obviously going to ask Takamiya about the jewel.
Ensho watched Yilin and Takamiya from a distance. He could tell that Kiyotaka was also observing Takamiya while dancing.
Takamiya’s cheerful expression suddenly vanished—Yilin must have asked about the jewel. However, he quickly returned to his usual self.
“Bingo, huh?” Ensho muttered. From the look of it, Takamiya really did possess a rare jewel of some sort.
Ensho hadn’t been able to warn them in time, but he still had a question for Kiyotaka. He waited for the dance to end before entering the hall.
Takamiya spotted him right away. “Why, thank you for coming, guest of honor.”
“Guest of honor?”
Before long, he was surrounded by guests. I’m really not cut out for this. Everyone lavished him with praise, but a cynical thought filled his mind: Would they react the same way if Takamiya hadn’t purchased his painting and it hadn’t been displayed at a museum in Hong Kong?
He nearly lashed out at them, but he remembered Kiyotaka asking him if he’d become a tengu. So instead, he politely brushed them off and looked around the hall. Kiyotaka was by the wall, chatting cheerfully with Aoi, Yilin, and Azusa. Had he not even noticed his arrival?
Annoyed, he strode toward Kiyotaka. “We need to talk.” He gestured with his chin to take the conversation outside.
Kiyotaka nodded with a look of exasperation.