CHAPTER TWELVE: THE EIGHTH DAY
1
The large campus of K—University cuts through the side of a mountain and spreads out extensively in a peculiar shape. In one corner of the campus stands the “box” building[xv], a two-floor building of reinforced concrete housing the circles and clubs officially sanctioned by the university. It was the second day after the six bodies had been discovered on Tsunojima. On the afternoon of Wednesday, April 2nd, about ten members assembled in the so-called “box” club room of the Mystery Club on the second floor.
Two conference tables were placed inside the disorderly, cramped room and the students were sitting there packed close together. Among them was also ex-member Kawaminami. Shimada Kiyoshi, younger brother of the inspector in charge, was not present.
Maybe he is trying to be considerate. Or maybe he has something else to attend to?
Morisu Kyōichi felt slightly anxious, but quickly got over it.
Doesn’t matter, he knows nothing. He hasn’t noticed anything and won’t, either.
Inspector Shimada arrived with two officers, slightly later than scheduled.
He frowned at the smell of cigarettes lingering in the room, recognised Morisu and Kawaminami and called out to them in a hearty manner. Then he turned to the whole group.
‘I appreciate you all coming here today. My name is Shimada.’
After a formal introduction, he sat down in the seat reserved for him.
After all the club members had introduced themselves, the inspector explained the outline of the incident. He then moved in a leisurely manner to the main issue, while he periodically looked from the notebook in his hands to the faces of the students.
‘I’ll repeat the names of the six who died on Tsunojima once more. Yamasaki Yoshifumi, Suzuki Tetsurō, Matsu’ura Junya, Iwasaki Yōko, Ōno Yumi and Higashi Hajime. I am sure you all knew them well.’
The faces of the six appeared in order in Morisu’s mind as he listened to the inspector.
Poe, Carr, Ellery, Agatha, Orczy and Leroux.
‘Of these six, five are thought to have already died by the time the fire broke out. Ōno and Higashi were respectively strangled and beaten to death. Yamasaki, Suzuki and Iwasaki were very likely poisoned. The last person, Matsu’ura, was still alive when the fire broke out. It appears he had doused the room and himself in kerosene and committed suicide.’
‘So Matsu’ura murdered the other five and then committed suicide?’ asked one of the members.
‘That’s what appears to have happened. As for how he would have obtained the poison thought to have been used on the three victims: Matsu’ura’s relatives have a big pharmacy in O—City and he often visited them. So that would explain it. We are investigating on that assumption for the moment.
‘But we have been unable to find a motive. That is why I had you assembled here today, to talk about that. I hope you’ll be able to help me.’
‘Could it have been someone else?’
‘Very unlikely.’
Morisu almost sighed with relief on hearing the inspector’s answer.
‘First of all, everything points to Matsu’ura Junya having committed suicide. Furthermore, the five others were murdered in different ways at different times. One of them had died more than three days earlier and each of them died under different circumstances. They say that even fishing boats rarely go out in that part of the sea, and I think it highly unlikely someone would have taken a boat to the island to commit a massacre lasting several days.’
‘But Inspector,’ interrupted Kawaminami. ‘Nakamura Seiji is thought to have been murdered and burnt to death under similar circumstances in the incident in the Blue Mansion last year.’
‘Well, there are all kinds of strange circumstances tied up with that case.’ The inspector shot him a sharp glance. ‘But at the time, the main reason for us suspecting murder at the time was the disappearance of the gardener. One person who should have been on the island wasn’t there, so suspicion naturally pointed towards that person. We assumed he was the murderer.
‘But now we have found a secret underground room beneath the burnt-down Decagon House with the body of a murdered man inside. I think it was in yesterday’s newspaper, and based on the time of death, age and physique, we suspect it’s the body of the gardener.’
‘Aha, I understand.’
‘So we were forced to change our assumptions about the Tsunojima incident. We now suspect that Nakamura Seiji’s death was a suicide by burning and that the whole tragedy was some sort of group suicide carried out by him.’
The Inspector gave Morisu and Kawaminami a meaningful look.
‘We got hold of some new facts that support this theory from a certain source.’
Shimada Kiyoshi must have talked, thought Morisu.
But he had clearly stated he had no intention of passing any of the facts he knew, or the suspicions he had, on to the police. Morisu had believed him when he’d said that. Even if Shimada’s own brother was with the police. But that would mean that….
Was it Nakamura Kōjirō who had talked?
‘But anyway.’ Inspector Shimada looked at everyone in the room. ‘How many of you knew those six were going to the island?’
Morisu and Kawaminami raised their hands.
‘Hmm, just the two of you. Do you know who came up with the plan to go to the island in the first place?’
‘They had been talking about it for a while,’ answered Morisu. ‘And then, thanks to some connections, they managed to make the necessary arrangements.’
‘Connections, you say?’
‘Yes. My uncle—his name is Tatsumi—is an agent handling a large variety of real estate. He bought the Decagon House from the previous owner. So I told them I could ask my uncle.’
‘Oh. Tatsumi Masa’aki, eh? So you’re the nephew he was talking about. But you didn’t go?’
‘No. I didn’t feel like going to a place where such a horrible tragedy had occurred just six months earlier. They all seemed happy about the trip, but I thought it distasteful. And then there was the problem of the number of rooms.’
‘Number of rooms? But there were seven guest rooms?’
‘Practically speaking, there were only six rooms. You can ask my uncle, but one of the rooms was not in a usable state. Rain water had ruined it completely.’
There was nothing in that room except for some built-in shelves and some old pieces of furniture in need of repair. The room was covered in stains and the ceiling looked as if it might fall down at any moment. And one part of the floor had rotted away, leaving a hole.
‘I see. And who of those six was the—how do you call it—organiser of the trip?’
‘I told Leroux about the house—sorry, I mean Higashi. Because he was scheduled to become the new editor-in-chief—basically the leader of the Club. But he also asked Matsu’ura for advice.’
‘So Higashi and Matsu’ura.’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘Besides their own luggage, I saw they had food rations, blankets and stuff with them. How did they arrange that?’
‘I helped with transporting the supplies my uncle had prepared for them. I had a fisherman’s boat help me bring the stuff to the island the day before their arrival.’
‘Hmm, I shall need to check that out as a matter of routine, of course.’
Rubbing his flabby cheek, the inspector turned his gaze upon the whole group once more.
‘Is there anyone here who might have an idea about a motive for Matsu’ura to have committed those murders?’
Voices started to murmur. Morisu joined the talk too, but he was thinking of something else in his mind.
A fair face.
A fragile body that would break if hugged too strongly.
Long black hair gliding down her neck.
Thin eyebrows, always with an expression of embarrassment. Almond eyes, turned away in sadness.
A small mouth with a little smile. A frail voice like that of a kitten.
Chiori.
Timidly avoiding the eyes of other people, the two of them had loved each other. Silently, but deeply.
Oh, Chiori, Chiori, Chiori.…
He had not told anyone of this, not any member of the club, nor his friends, and neither had she. It was not because he was hiding it, nor was he embarrassed about it. It was simply because both of them were afraid. Afraid that the tiny cosmos they shared with each other would shatter if anyone knew about it.
But all of it was suddenly crushed that fateful day. That night in January last year. It was evident that those six had robbed her of her life.
If only I had been next to Chiori’s side to the end….
How often had he blamed himself, chastised himself. And how much he hated those six who had been there.
He had lost his father, his mother and his little sister in the past in the same way. Without any warning, the selfish, cruel hands of unknown persons had taken the warmth that was his family away to a place he could never reach. And when he had finally found a dear person in Chiori, there had come that night.
It was not an accident.
She was not a girl to drink irresponsibly. She knew her heart was weak. Intoxicated and helpless, she was basically forced to drink up to the end.
She was killed by them.
She was killed.
‘Morisu,’ asked Kawaminami from the adjacent seat.
‘Uh, yes?’
‘You know, what about the letters?’
‘Hmm? What’s that?’ Inspector Shimada asked when he heard what the two were talking about.
‘Actually, there’s something we forgot to tell you last time,’ Kawaminami replied as he took the envelope with the letter out of his pocket. ‘This was delivered on the day the group went to the island. Morisu and I each got one.’
‘A letter from Nakamura Seiji?’
‘Ye—yes.’
‘Both of you got one?’
The inspector took the envelope from Kawaminami and checked the contents.
‘The exact same letter was delivered to the homes of all of the victims—including Matsu’ura.’
‘Could it be related to what happened on the island?’
‘I couldn’t really say. But it might well have been just an unrelated prank. I mean, it was signed by a dead man.’
Inspector Shimada gave a wry smile, showing his yellow teeth.
Morisu joined in with a chuckle, but he was silently reaching back into his memories.