The next morning, the group sat at a table in the restaurant, eating breakfast.
“So while we were enjoying the musical, you guys were having a terrible time, huh?” Mayuka said fretfully, poking at her French toast.
Kobayashi didn’t seem to have much of an appetite, either. He was tearing off little bits of his own toast, with a whole omelet sitting untouched on his plate.
“A hand shot forth out of nowhere and pushed the control lever forward. A second later, I was in the water. If you hadn’t saved me when you did, Hinata…”
“Who would do such a horrible thing?” Mayuka fumed.
Hinata shook his head. “I heard someone running away, but I couldn’t leave to chase after them. I have no idea who it was. Now we have even more mysteries on our hands. On top of that, we’re supposed to arrive in Vladivostok this afternoon. We told Mr. Soga we’d find his violin by then…”
“Remember, Hinata,” said Kobayashi. “We’re not under any such obligation. If anything, we’re the victims here.”
“I agree,” said Mito smugly. She cut off a big piece of her pancake and popped it into her mouth. “But if you let that depress you, it will only make things worse. The first thing to do is eat and build up your energy. I wouldn’t want to be too hungry to play the violin when it matters most.”
Mayuka looked up at the ceiling, shook her head, and gripped her fork. “I respect you so much, Mito,” she said. “C’mon, gang, let’s eat!” She then shoved as much French toast into her mouth as she could fit.
Feeling deeply ashamed, Hinata and Kobayashi silently joined them and began to eat.
“I might sound confident, but the truth is, I’ve been feeling very down since last night,” admitted Mito, putting a bit of bacon she’d raised to her mouth back onto her plate. “I wasn’t able to detect the difference between the Stradivarius I played yesterday and the one that was stolen. They even felt the same in my hands… Instruments, even those from the same maker, all sound slightly different from one another—why couldn’t I tell them apart?!”
Her expression soured with frustration.
“Of course, the Guarneri was completely different. But the fact that I couldn’t tell one Stradivarius from another is just proof that I’m an amateur. I checked the labels, too, and they were completely different instruments.”
Hinata and Kobayashi were mystified.
“Labels?” the older man asked.
“Inside the body of a violin is a label that contains the maker’s name and the date it was finished. You know how there are two f-shaped holes on the body of the violin? You can see the label through them. The instrument that was stolen was from 1703, while the one I played yesterday was made in 1727. That puts them over two decades apart. And yet…”
To the others, who assumed all violins had the same shape and sound, Mito’s problem was way beyond their understanding. They were dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry… That’s all way over my head,” Mayuka said truthfully. “I don’t know what to say to make you feel better.”
Mito bit her lip, nodded, and picked up her bacon again. “Yeah, I know. It’s my problem to figure out. I’m sorry for worrying you. Forget I brought it up.”
“Well,” said Kobayashi. “Since we each have our own problems to solve, let’s fuel up so we can tackle them!” Everyone resumed eating.
All of a sudden, Hinata felt a burst of motivation.
Mito was his age, and she was already an accomplished violinist. Hinata could see she had the determination of a pro.
I’m going to do everything in my power, too! It’s not like we can get off this ship until it returns to Yokohama, anyway…
Kobayashi’s cool electric wheelchair had gotten waterlogged when it fell into the pool, and it no longer worked. Chihori had brought him a replacement from the ship’s stock, but the wheels were small; it was a transport wheelchair that the occupant couldn’t move independently.
“Unfortunately, all of our chairs are meant for emergencies and have to be pushed by someone else. I’m sorry…”
Since Mr. Kobayashi’s range of movement is limited, I’ll have to do my best to make up for it. Hinata thought of Chris, still in the kennel, where he’d stayed overnight. But first, I need to get Chris. Then we can get started!
At the elevator, Hinata ran into Numata again.
“G-good morning,” he said to the man, bowing.
Numata mumbled something and tried to move past, but at that moment, a thought occurred to Hinata. Hang on, maybe…
On a sudden whim, he called the man back. “Mr. Numata, w-would you like to go to the kennel with me? I’m going to get Chris, my dog. I assume you want to know how Mary’s doing, right?”
With no reason to refuse, Numata got into the elevator with Hinata.
When they reached the kennel, Liz welcomed Hinata with outstretched arms.
“Oh, Hinata! I’m glad you’re all right. Chris is such a smart cookie, isn’t he? How is Mr. Kobayashi doing? Is he resting well?”
He found her hug very reassuring. “Thanks to you, Mr. Kobayashi is fine. He says hello.”
Liz let go of Hinata and turned to Numata, who was looking rather dazed. “And who do we have here…? Oh, you’re the owner of that cute li’l tarantula, right?”
He nodded eagerly, and she flashed him a grin.
“Due to the captain’s orders, I can’t give her back to you just yet. But don’t worry—she’s doing fine. Hang on, Hinata… I’ll bring Chris out right now.”
“I can’t even see her…?” Numata grumbled and thumped himself down onto the sofa along the wall.
Chris, meanwhile, leaped onto Hinata as soon as he saw him. Hinata crouched down to give the dog a good hug. Thanks for yesterday, Chris! You were such a good boy…
“He ate his breakfast just fine. Nothing to worry about,” Liz said, shooting Hinata a thumbs-up.
“Thanks,” he replied. “So, Liz, you know a lot about all kinds of animals, huh? Is it hard taking care of a tarantula? Do they need to be kept warm?”
Liz held out her hands with the palms up. “It’s not that hard to raise tarantulas. In temperatures like these, there’s no need to keep the heater on.”
“Really? They said that Mr. Numata’s room was extremely warm. He gets hot easily, so I assumed he was putting up with it for the sake of his spider.”
Numata sat upright on the sofa, pulling his back away from the cushions.
Hinata watched him out of the corner of his eye and said, as innocently as possible, “Or maybe he’s got some other pets with him? Maybe some animal that comes from a hot climate… Mr. Numata loves rare animals, and I hear his job involves buying and selling exotic species.”
He didn’t miss the glint in Liz’s eye. Behind the two of them, Numata started to rise from the sofa, looking pale.
“Ooh, what a lovely job to have… I love rare animals, too! Just a moment, now,” Liz said, circling back behind the kennel’s reception counter. Hinata felt his heart begin to race; there was probably an emergency alert button behind the counter somewhere.
Instead, however, Liz came back with a smile and handed Numata a book. “Mr. Numata, what’s your favorite animal? I happen to have a soft spot for reptiles. Would you like to look at this photo collection of exotic turtles and tortoises?”
Numata backed away, shaking his head. “M-maybe some other time… I just remembered something I need to—”
There was a sharp knock at the door, and then it swung open.
“Liz! What happened?” said two security guards as they entered the room. Numata tensed, and Liz jabbed an accusatory finger at him.
“This is Mr. Numata, the owner of the tarantula. Contact the captain at once and have him search this man’s cabin! I suspect he’s smuggling endangered animals.”