A Midsummer's Equation

FORTY-THREE

Narumi hesitated as she walked. She knew she had to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. She poked her head into the kitchen. Setsuko was standing there, sharpening a knife. The clock on the wall showed it was already after ten.

“Mom?”

Setsuko almost jumped. “Hey, there. You startled me.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Hmm? The bath, probably.”

Perfect.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Narumi said hesitantly.

Setsuko put down a knife. There was no astonishment in her eyes, just cold resolve, as though she already knew what her daughter was going to say. “Yes?” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“I just got a call from one of my friends back in middle school. It wasn’t about much, but at the end, she asked me about Ogikubo.”

Setsuko’s eyes narrowed. “Ogikubo?”

“Yeah. She just sounded like she wanted to make sure that’s where we lived. She didn’t say why. But I think I know.”

“And?”

The look of defeat on her mother’s face made Narumi’s chest ache. It was a sure confirmation that her suspicions were right, and any hope she might have clung to was false.

Desperately trying to keep any hint of tears out of her voice, she said, “Well, this is just a guess, but I think someone came to talk to her. Someone wanted to know where I was living in middle school. Probably the police.”

“Why do you think that?” Setsuko asked with an uncomfortable smile. “Maybe she just called you on a whim?”

Narumi shook her head. “I don’t think so. The timing’s too perfect.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I heard from Nishiguchi that Tsukahara, the man who was killed, used to be a detective with the Tokyo Police Department. A homicide detective.”

The smile faded from Setsuko’s face.

Narumi continued. “And I heard something else from Mr. Yukawa about Mr. Tsukahara being spotted at a resort development in East Hari, where a murderer he arrested once used to live—I’m pretty sure he heard it from his friend in Tokyo homicide. I’m also pretty sure who the victim of that murder was.”

“Narumi,” Setsuko said, a severe look on her face. “We promised never to talk about that.”

“I think we’re past that point now, Mom. I don’t know what’s going on, but the police in Tokyo are moving on this. They’re looking into our family. Please, you have to tell me the truth. I know you know something. Why was Mr. Tsukahara here? What happened that night? What did Dad do?”

A look of anguish passed across Setsuko’s face. She lowered her eyes.

“Please,” Narumi said.

Setsuko looked back up, but before she spoke, she glanced over Narumi’s shoulder, and her eyes went wide. Narumi turned, almost fearfully. Her father was standing in a T-shirt and exercise shorts, a towel draped around his neck.

“Keep it down,” Shigehiro said, languidly, “or they’ll hear you all the way to town.” He walked in, leaning on his cane. He pulled a bottle of tea out of the refrigerator, poured some into a nearby cup, and drank it down with gusto. He appeared so calm that Narumi thought for a moment he actually might not have heard what they were talking about.

Setsuko was still silent, her eyes fixed firmly on the floorboards.

Shigehiro finished drinking his tea, then took a deep sigh. “Guess that’s it, then,” he said.

Narumi glanced at her father. “What’s it?”

“Shigehiro—” Setsuko began.

“You be quiet,” Shigehiro said in a gravelly voice. He turned a gentle smile to Narumi.

“There’s something we need to talk about. Something very important.”