A Midsummer's Equation

TWELVE

Yukawa had requested a seven o’clock dinner, but the hour had come and gone with no sign of the eccentric physicist.

Narumi was wondering what to do, when he appeared, drenched in sweat, carrying a large paper bag in each hand.

“Mr. Yukawa. I was just about to phone you.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t get a taxi to save my life.”

“Will you be heading up to your room first?”

“No, I’m fine like this.”

His dishes were already laid out. Throwing his bags and jacket off to one side, Yukawa sat down at the table.

“I see you paid a visit to the hardware store,” Narumi said, pouring him a glass of beer. She recognized the logo on the paper bags. It was a small place, but vital, as it was the only one of its kind in town.

“I required some materials for an experiment,” Yukawa said, lifting the glass to his mouth, but before he took a sip, he turned to look at her. “Actually, there’s something I want to ask you for, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“What’s that?”

“I need some empty plastic bottles. Preferably something designed to hold carbonated water.”

“I should have some two-liter cola bottles in the back.”

“Perfect. I’ll need five or six. I’ll come down for them later.”

“What are you going to use them for?”

“Ah. You can ask the resident stubborn preteen that tomorrow.”

Narumi narrowed her eyes. “I take it you’re referring to my cousin?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a boy with his particular brand of obstinacy before.”

Yukawa took a drink of his beer, then looked up, noticing Narumi’s eyes on him. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” she replied, stifling a laugh. “Enjoy your meal.”

Leaving the dining room, Narumi grabbed the master key and got on the elevator to go to Yukawa’s room on the third floor to lay out his futon.

The first thing that caught her eye when she entered the room was a cardboard box in one corner—a package that had arrived earlier that day. He must have had someone express ship it to him, since he hadn’t known he was staying here until just the day before. She glanced at the packing slip and saw that it had been sent from Imperial University’s Physics Laboratory Number 13. It had a large FRAGILE sticker on one side, and the label read “Contents: Bottles.”

Narumi laid out his futon and went down to the living room, where her parents were drinking tea after dinner. Kyohei was nowhere to be seen.

“I put out the futon,” she announced.

Setsuko nodded. Both she and Shigehiro had sour expressions.

“What is it?” Narumi asked, looking between her parents’ faces.

“It’s nothing, we were just talking,” Shigehiro said slowly. “Thinking it might be time.”

“Time?” Narumi echoed, though she knew immediately what they meant. “Time to close the place down?”

“Not sure as we have a choice, with the way things have been. Yeah, the holiday season is over, but even still, one guest? That’s not going to pay the bills. And after what happened…”

“But that wasn’t our fault,” Narumi countered.

“Not sure we can say that. If we’d had someone on staff, we might have known when Mr. Tsukahara went out, and there wasn’t anyone to send out to look for him when he didn’t come back. His widow came by today around lunchtime, and she didn’t have one mean word for us, but I could hardly meet her eyes. She even said she wanted to pay for his night’s stay.…”

“You didn’t take it.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Shigehiro said, shaking his head. “I told her we couldn’t possibly accept that, and even then she insisted, saying it was the least she could do for all the trouble. Took quite a while to talk her down.”

Narumi sighed.

“I don’t know,” her father continued. “It just feels like it’s about time. Fifteen years. I think that’s a pretty good run, all things considered.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked around, as if he was already saying good-bye.

Narumi’s own mind traveled back to when she first came here, still in middle school. Her father had left his job at a company in Tokyo to come back to his hometown and take up the reins at the Green Rock Inn. It had already been several years since his father, Narumi’s grandfather, had been crippled by a stroke, and people had started wondering openly when Shigehiro would come.

She could still remember vividly the day they arrived in town. She had visited several times before, but for some reason, just knowing that it was going to be her home made everything look different. What struck her first and strongest was the beauty of the sea. Her current devotion to its protection was an outgrowth of that first impression.

The sound of a hushed buzzer brought her back to the present. Someone was pressing the button on the front desk.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Setsuko wondered, looking up at the clock.

Narumi shrugged and stood. Out in the lobby, she found Tsuyoshi Nishiguchi standing by the shelves where guests put their shoes upon entering the inn.

“Hey,” he said, raising his hand in greeting. “Sorry to bother you again.”

“It’s no bother,” Narumi said. “I’m sorry you have to work so late. It must be rough being a detective.”

“We’re usually not this busy, but when something big happens, well, you know. Can’t really loaf around when there’s been a, er, a loss of life.”

Narumi raised an eyebrow but nodded. “So what have you found out? Do you know how it happened yet?”

“Still can’t say for sure. We’re not even sure it was an accident now.”

Though his tone had been casual, Narumi stiffened at the words. “Wait, what does that mean? If it wasn’t an accident, what was it? Suicide?”

“Like I said, we don’t know. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a suicide, though. Still, other possibilities have come to light.… That said, we’ll probably wind up filing it as an accident after all,” Nishiguchi stammered.

Narumi narrowed her eyes at her old classmate. “You’re saying there’s a possibility it was murder?”

Nishiguchi blanched and scratched his forehead. “Look, we don’t know. Just, it turns out that Mr. Tsukahara was a detective in the Tokyo Police Department. Homicide.”

“Whoa.”

“Anyway, when the widow came down today, she brought a guy who used to be Mr. Tsukahara’s subordinate. He’s a director in Tokyo homicide now. You know what that means? That’s only one rank below commissioner, which is the person who’s directly in charge of investigations. Anyway, that had the local brass sweating bullets.”

“Did he have something to say about what happened?”

“Yes, would be my guess. I wasn’t there, but we showed him the scene, and then he started talking about having to see our commissioner right away. They were in there for about an hour, then the director and the widow went back to Tokyo with orders to send the remains back after them. Not for a funeral, either.”

“For what then?”

“An autopsy,” Nishiguchi said in a hushed voice.

Narumi swallowed.

“If it looks like murder, you know Tokyo’s going to get involved, even if it isn’t their jurisdiction. That’s got everyone at the station on tenterhooks. Which is why I’m trying to get everything squared away before the end of the day.” Nishiguchi leaned toward her and added, “And everything I just said, that’s just between old friends, okay? Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. So, how can I help you?”

“Right, I almost forgot,” Nishiguchi said, straightening his back and clearing his throat. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to borrow from you, if I could? Your, er, guest ledger, I think it’s called? We need a record of people who stayed here.”

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a sensitive subject,” Nishiguchi began, glancing around before continuing, “but people were wondering why Tsukahara chose this place to stay.”

“You mean why’d he pick an old, rundown inn like ours?”

“I didn’t say that! I’m just saying, well, he might’ve had a specific reason. Like someone recommended it to him. That’s why we need to know who stayed here in the past.”

“Oh, I get it. How many years back do you want?”

“As many as you got.”

“Okay, I’ll ask my folks.” Narumi went back to the living room, mulling over what Nishiguchi had said. It was a good question. Why had Tsukahara chosen the Green Rock Inn?