“Neither can I.”
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“If he didn’t want them to notice the body at all, I would understand, but what could he gain from arranging it so they didn’t notice the body for a second or two? But in that case, why put a Wara Ningyo there? Is the placement just a coincidence?”
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“No, I’m sure it was deliberate. It makes no sense to dismiss it as coincidental. But approaching it from this perspective doesn’t strike me as very effective. Like I said before, rather than focusing on the Wara Ningyo and the locked room, I would prefer... I think we should concentrate on figuring out the message the killer left behind.”
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“But, Ryuzaki... no, you’re right.” She almost argued but stopped herself. It certainly was worth pursuing, but she didn’t have any follow-through at the moment. First they needed to identify the fourth victim, or at least the location. There were Wara Ningyo at all the scenes, but the message was only in this room, and they needed to find it as soon as possible. “Sorry. I was wasting valuable time.”
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“I would rather you apologize for stepping on me, Misora.”
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“Oh, right, of course.”
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“You mean it? Then as a token of your contrition, would you do something for me?”
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“Okay..
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Could he be more blatant? But she had stepped on him.
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Very hard, with her full body weight.
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“What?”
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“Would you pretend to be dead, Misora? Like I was a moment ago. The victim, Backyard Bottomslash, was a woman, so you might provide more inspiration than I did.” Apparently this private detective was unaware that most people possess something called self-respect.
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But this was not the time to point this out to him. If she did, Naomi Misora felt she would be well on her way to earning a reputation as a tsundere-- prickly to hide her inner drippiness. And the matter was urgent--- she was willing to try anything that might help. She wasn’t sure if this was one of those things, but by this point she was even willing to try crawling. Peeling oddly resigned, she lay down on the floor. The room looked really different from down there.
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“So? Anything?”
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“No, not at all.”
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“Oh. Yeah, I thought not.”
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Futile.
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Ryuzaki sat on the chair with his knees against his chest, pointed out that the coffee Misora had made was getting cold, and drank his. Misora had put sugar in the way she liked it, and half expected him to complain, but he didn’t say anything. Apparently he was capable of consuming non-sweet things too. It seemed she could get up now, but it felt more awkward to do so than to stay down here, so she didn’t move.
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“Whew... hot coffee helps the pain in my belly,” Ryuzaki said.
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He seemed so nonchalant, but he just wouldn’t let that go.
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“Ryuzaki. . .was this the same as the first victim? After she died, he took the clothes off, then cut off the arm and leg, and then put the clothes back on?”
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“Yes. What of it?”
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“No, I know it’s easier to cut up a body without the clothes getting in the way Clothes are pretty sturdy, really. They get tangled up on the blade. But once he has the clothes off, why does he put them back on? Why not leave his victims naked?”
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“Hmm...”
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“With the first victim, putting the shirt back on hid the cuts on the chest, or at least hid that they were Roman numerals. But this time.., it must have been a pain in the ass. Putting clothes on a corpse.. .on anyone who can’t move themselves...”
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“Misora, the leg he abandoned in the bathroom was wearing a sock and a shoe.”
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“Yeah, I saw the picture.”
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“Then, I mean, perhaps the killer’s goal... no, the killer’s message has nothing to do with the clothes or shoes, but only to do with the severed limbs. Which is why he put everything else back the way it used to be.”
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Put everything back.
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But then...
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“But then... the left arm and the right leg. He left the leg in the bathroom and took the arm with him...
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why? What was different about the left arm and the right leg? An arm and a leg Misora muttered, staring up at the ceiling.
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Ryuzaki looked up at the ceiling as well, and said slowly, biting his thumbnail, “Once.. on a different case... something happened that might help here. If you’d care to hear it?”
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“Go ahead.”
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“It was a murder case, and the victim had been stabbed through the chest. Afterward, the ring finger of his left hand had been cut off and carried away. After his death. Can you guess why?”
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“The ring finger of the left hand? That’s easy. The victim was married, right? The killer must have cut it off to steal the wedding ring. Wedding rings have often been worn so long they can no longer be taken off.”
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“Yes. The killer was after money. Afterward, we successfully tracked down the ring on the black market and were able to trace it back to the killer and arrest him.”
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“But... that’s certainly an interesting story and everything, but Ryuzaki, no one would cut off an entire arm to steal a ring. And Backyard Bottomslash wasn’t married. According to the file, she wasn’t even seeing anyone.”
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“But there are more rings than wedding rings.”
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“But you still wouldn’t take the entire arm.”
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“Yes, you’re right. That’s why I only said it might help. If it didn’t, then I apologize.”
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“Not worth apologizing for, but there was no ring... no ring...” So, something besides a ring?
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For example... a bracelet.
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Not around the finger, but around the wrist... no, that was retarded. It made a certain amount of sense that you would need to cut off a finger to get a ring, but no matter how generously you looked at it; there was no reason to cut off an arm for a bracelet. Nobody would do that. And this killer wasn’t after money, anyway. If he was, the second victim didn’t fit.
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“…”
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Misora slowly reached her left arm out toward the ceiling. Holding it away from the floor. She opened her hand and stretched her fingers out all the way, as if trying to grab the fluorescent light overhead.
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There was a ring on her finger. An engagement ring from Raye Penber. An engagement ring that still seemed about as real as a joke between two children to her, but was it possible someone would cut off her finger, her arm, to steal it? What if it was a bracelet? No. Using herself as an example just made it seem all the more unlikely.
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Holding her arm up like this had allowed her sleeve to slide down toward her shoulder. Her wristwatch came into view. It was a silver watch. A present on her birthday this year, February 14th, again from Raye Penber. So if it wasn’t a bracelet, but a watch? It was silver, so it wasn’t cheap... a watch?
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“Ryuzaki. Was Backyard Bottomslash right or left handed?”
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“According to your file, right handed. What of it?”
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“So... chances are she would have worn a watch on her left arm. So perhaps what the killer took away...
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was a watch,” Misora said, from her position on her back on the floor. “The right arm still had a sock and shoe. So the arm he took away more than likely still had a watch on it.”
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“He cut off the arm to steal the watch? But why? Misora... you yourself said that it didn’t make any sense to cut off an arm to steal a ring. So why would someone do that to steal a watch? If he were after the watch, he would have just taken it. Watches aren’t like rings. They never get stuck. There’s no reason to cut off the arm.”
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“No, I don’t think he was after the watch either. But maybe the watch is this scene’s message. If only the watch was missing it would be too obvious, so he took the arm too...”
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“As a form of misdirection? I see... but in that case, we still don’t know why he cut off the right leg as well. I doubt she wore a watch around her ankle. And even as a case of misdirection, there’s still no need to take the whole arm—the wrist would have been plenty.”
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“Yeah, true enough, but still... the watch idea itself still seemed like a good one.” She felt like she was nearing the truth. If that same unnatural fixation, to use a cliché phrase, that she’d encountered at the first and second scenes was working here, than she felt like it would manifest itself this way...
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“Left arm... right leg... left wrist... right ankle... left hand... right foot... watch... clock... timepiece...
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ticker.. both hands and feet, both arms and legs... or are the bits left behind what really matter’ Not the left arm and right leg, but the right arm and left legs? The four limbs...”
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“Plus the head is five.”