Salvation of a Saint (24 page)

‘Professor …’

The physicist reached out and retrieved the piece of paper off the table. ‘It’s a habit we scientists get into,’ he said. ‘Even if the solution to a problem is imaginary, we can’t rest until we look into it. But, of course, you’re a detective, not a scientist. You can’t be wasting your valuable time proving something’s impossible.’

He neatly refolded the paper and placed it in his jacket pocket. The edges of his mouth curled upward into a smile. ‘Forget I said anything.’

‘Why don’t you tell me what this impossible trick was?’ Utsumi said. ‘Then I can decide for myself whether or not it’s really impossible. Based on that, I can look into whatever you wanted me to check.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Yukawa replied.

‘Why not?’

‘If you knew what the trick was, it would colour your opinion, rendering you unable to conduct your research objectively. And, if you’re not going to look into it anyway, there’s no need for you to know the trick. Either way, I can’t tell you.’

Yukawa reached for the bill, but Utsumi grabbed it before he could pick it up. ‘It’s on me,’ she said.

‘Unthinkable,’ Yukawa said. ‘I made you come out here.’

Utsumi held out her other hand. ‘Give me that paper. I’ll look into it for you.’

‘But it’s an imaginary solution.’

‘I don’t care. If it’s the only solution we’ve got, I want to know what it is.’

Yukawa sighed and produced the paper. Utsumi peered at it briefly before putting it in her bag. ‘So … if it turns out that the answer isn’t “imaginary”, as you call it, after all, we have a chance at solving the mystery.’

‘Maybe,’ Yukawa muttered noncommittally as he pushed up his glasses with one finger.

‘We don’t have a chance?’

‘If it’s not imaginary,’ the physicist said, a keen glimmer in his eye, ‘then you still won’t be able to solve it. Neither will I. It’s the perfect crime.’

Hiromi Wakayama stared at the tapestry on the wall. Linked filaments of grey and navy blue formed an irregular belt that ran through the design. Bending and twisting, the belt curved under and over itself, ultimately returning to its point of origin to complete an elaborate loop. Though it was a fairly complicated design, when seen from a distance it appeared to be a simple geometrical pattern. Yoshitaka had called it an ‘ugly DNA spiral’, but Hiromi was rather fond of it. When Ayane did her show in Ginza, the piece had been displayed right next to the entrance. It was her design, but Hiromi’s work.

It wasn’t all that unusual in the art world for many of the works in an artist’s individual show to have actually been executed by their apprentices. In the case of patchwork particularly, where a single large piece could take several months to make, some division of labour was necessary, or
an artist would be hard-pressed to make enough pieces to hold a show.

Nonetheless, Ayane had done most of the work in the Ginza show herself. At least eighty percent of the tapestries there had been entirely her own product. And yet she had chosen to show the one that her apprentice made up front. Hiromi remembered the thrill she had felt when she saw it there – a thrill that came from knowing her talent was being recognized by her teacher.

At the time, she had thought she wanted to work for Ayane Mashiba forever …

Ayane’s coffee mug made a loud
clink
as she set it down on the worktable. The two women were sitting across from each other at Anne’s House Patchwork School. Ordinarily at this time of day a class would be in session, and several students would be there, cutting and sewing cloth. But Ayane had yet to reopen the school to students. Today there were only the two of them, and the bomb that Hiromi had dropped between them –

‘Oh?’ Ayane said, holding her mug in both hands. ‘Well, if that’s your decision …’

‘I’m sorry to spring this on you,’ Hiromi said, lowering her head.

‘There’s no need to apologize. I was a little worried about how things might go myself. Maybe this is really for the best.’

‘It’s all my fault,’ Hiromi said. ‘I … I just don’t know what to say.’

‘Then don’t say anything. I don’t really want to sit here watching you apologize anymore.’

‘Oh, right. Sorry …’ Hiromi hung her head. She felt tears stinging her eyes, but she held them back. She didn’t want to make Ayane any more uncomfortable than she already had.

Hiromi had been the one who called, saying she needed to talk. Ayane had invited her to come to Anne’s House without even asking what she wanted to talk about.

She really has no idea I’m going to quit,
Hiromi had thought.

She’d broken the news while Ayane was making tea.

And now Ayane was somehow managing to be solicitous. ‘Hiromi, are you sure you’ll be okay?’ she asked.

Swallowing a sob, Hiromi looked up.

‘I mean financially,’ the widow went on. ‘I’m worried you might not be able to find work so easily. Unless your family is in a position to help?’

‘Honestly, I haven’t figured any of that out yet. I’d like to leave my parents out of it if possible, but I might not have a choice. Still, I have a bit of savings, so I’m going to try to do things on my own as much as possible.’

‘Well,’ Ayane said, ‘that doesn’t sound so reassuring.’ She brushed her hair back across her ear several times – a sure sign she was irritated. ‘But maybe it’s not my place to worry about that.’

‘I don’t deserve it.’

‘Can we please lay off the self-pity?’ Ayane said, the
sudden harshness in her voice sending shivers through Hiromi’s body. Her head drooped again.

‘Sorry,’ Ayane added quietly. ‘That wasn’t very nice of me. But I really don’t want you acting like this. Maybe it’s impossible for us to work together, but I
do
want you to be happy. That’s the truth.’

With some trepidation, Hiromi raised her head. Ayane was smiling – a thin, lonely smile; but it seemed genuine.

‘And the person responsible for making both of us feel like this isn’t around anymore.’ The widow’s voice was soft and distant. ‘It’s time we started looking forward, not back.’

Hiromi nodded, though the suggestion sounded all but impossible. Her love for Yoshitaka, her sadness at losing him, and her guilt for betraying her mentor all weighed too heavily on her heart.

‘How many years is it since you started working for me?’ Ayane asked, abruptly and deliberately cheerful.

‘About … three years, maybe a little more.’

‘Three years already? If you were in high school, you’d have already graduated. Maybe that’s how we should think of it: your graduation!’

Hiromi almost shook her head.
I’m not so much of a fool that that would cheer me up.

‘You had a key for the classroom, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, right, I’ll give it back,’ Hiromi said, reaching into her bag.

‘No, you hold onto it.’

‘But—’

‘I know you’ve left lots of stuff here. It will take you a while before everything is cleaned out. And if there’s anything else you need, go ahead and take it. How about that tapestry? I know you like it.’ Ayane indicated the tapestry Hiromi had been admiring before.

‘That one – really?’

‘You’re the one who made it, after all. And people loved it at the show. I didn’t sell it because I wanted to give it to you, you know.’

Hiromi recalled with a pang of guilt that even though most of the works on display in the Ginza show had sported price tags, this tapestry had been marked ‘not for sale’.

Now Ayane turned more brisk. ‘How many days do you think it will take to gather all your stuff?’

‘Only today and tomorrow, I think.’

‘Okay, well, then, how about you give me a call when you’re finished? The key … You can leave the key in the mail slot in the door. Be careful not to forget anything – I’m going to call a professional and have them come in to clean this place out when you’re done.’

Hiromi blinked, not understanding.

‘Well, it’s not like I can go on living at that hotel forever. It’s not very frugal, or convenient. I thought I would live here until I figure out where I’m going next.’

‘So you’re not going back home?’

Ayane sighed, her shoulders dropping. ‘I thought about it, but I’ve decided not to. So many happy memories … But they’re all bitter now. Twisted up. And anyhow, it’s far too
large for me to live in by myself. I’m amazed he lived there alone for so long before meeting me.’

‘Are you going to sell it?’

‘I’ll try, though it might be hard with word getting out about what happened there. I thought I would talk to Mr Ikai first. I’m sure he has some connections who could help.’

Hiromi sat looking down at the mug on the worktable, unable to think of anything more to say. The tea Ayane had made for her was probably cold by now.

‘Well, I’m going to leave now,’ the older woman said, picking up her now empty mug.

‘Just leave that, I’ll wash it before I leave,’ Hiromi offered.

‘Oh? Well, thanks,’ Ayane said, returning the mug to the table. ‘You brought in these mugs, didn’t you – something from a friend’s wedding, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, the pair of them.’

Now they were sitting side by side on the worktable. Hiromi and Ayane had often drunk from them when they held their monthly curriculum meetings.

‘You should definitely remember to take them when you’re packing.’

‘Right,’ Hiromi said in a small voice. She hadn’t been planning to take the mugs at all; but it occurred to her now that leaving them might give Ayane yet another reason to remember what had happened. One more weight settled on her heart.

Ayane hoisted her shoulder bag and made for the door. Hiromi followed.

When she was done putting on her shoes, Ayane looked up at her assistant. ‘It’s strange, isn’t it? Me leaving first, even though it’s you who’s quitting.’

‘I’ll clean up as fast as I can. Maybe I can even finish today.’

‘No, there’s no need to hurry. I didn’t mean it like that,’ Ayane said, looking directly at her. ‘Be well, Hiromi.’

‘You too.’

Ayane nodded and opened the door, smiling as she stepped out. The door closed behind her.

Hiromi sat on the floor and breathed a deep sigh.

It was painful to quit her job, and she was worried about what she would do for money, but she was certain that this was her only option. It had been a mistake to try to carry on as though everything was the same, even after she had admitted to her relationship with Yoshitaka. No matter how understanding Ayane might seem, Hiromi knew she hadn’t forgiven her, not deep in her heart.

And then there was the baby. Hiromi was terrified Ayane might ask what she was planning to do. She still hadn’t been able to come to a decision.

Maybe Ayane hadn’t asked because she assumed the obvious: that Hiromi would terminate the pregnancy. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed obvious that it never occurred to Ayane that Hiromi might actually
want
the child …

Hiromi paused, realizing with a shock that when she looked deep down inside herself, all she could think of was keeping it.

But what sort of life would she lead as a single mother? She couldn’t go back to her parents. They were both still in good health, but they weren’t exactly on easy street, and she could only imagine how they would react when they heard that their daughter had become an unwed mother, and destroyed a marriage in the process.

Maybe I have to have an abortion
– the more she thought about it, the more she kept coming back to the same obvious choice. Yet it was a conclusion she wanted desperately to avoid. How many times since Yoshitaka’s death had she wished for an easy way out?
There is no easy way.

She was shaking her head at her own stupidity when her phone rang. Hiromi stood slowly and walked back to the worktable. She pulled the phone out of her bag. Recognizing the number on the display, she hesitated a long moment before she pushed the accept call button.
Ignoring them now won’t make them go away.

‘Yes?’ she said, her voice unintentionally dark.

‘Hello, this is Detective Utsumi from the Metropolitan Police. I was wondering if you had a moment?’

‘Sure.’

‘I’m sorry to bother you again, but there were a few more things I wanted to ask. Maybe we could meet up?’

‘When?’

‘As soon as possible.’

Hiromi breathed a long sigh, not really caring if the detective heard. ‘Then, could you come here? I’m at the patchwork school.’

‘In Daikanyama, right? Is Mrs Mashiba there as well?’

‘No, she’s gone for the day. It’s just me.’

‘Okay, I’ll be right over.’

Hiromi returned her phone to her bag and rubbed her forehead with one hand.

It occurred to her for the first time that quitting the patchwork school didn’t mean it was all over. The police would never let her go until they’d solved the case –
if
they solved the case. She would never be allowed to have her child in peace.

She gulped the remaining tea from her mug – lukewarm, as expected.

The events of the past three years floated in her mind. When she first came to Anne’s House, her budding patchwork skills had been inconsistent, her lack of experience evident; but she’d made tremendous progress in the first three months – so much so that she’d even surprised herself. When Ayane asked her to become her assistant, she’d said yes on the spot. She had long since grown tired of the pointless, mechanical work the temp agency occasionally sent her.

Hiromi glanced at the computer sitting in the corner of the room. She and Ayane relied heavily on drafting software when making their designs. Sometimes it took a whole night just to decide on colours; but not once had she
ever found the work onerous. Once they had decided on a design, they would go and buy the cloth. And then, after spending all that time meticulously deciding on colours, once at the store they would inevitably be swept away by some new fabric in stock, often changing their minds on the spot, ruefully laughing together at their own lack of restraint.

I was satisfied,
Hiromi realized.
I had a good job, and a good life
. And now it had all come to an end. She shook her head. It was all her fault. She had stolen the husband of another woman – and not just any woman, the very person who had helped her become who she was today.