The Decagon House Murders (9 page)

‘Ah, yes. Pray ask.’

‘Where was Nakamura Kōjirō when the incident happened on Tsunojima?’

‘You’re asking for his alibi?’ A grin appeared on Shimada’s sleepy face. ‘Straight to the point, I see. Who would benefit most by the death of Seiji and his wife Kazue? Kō, of course.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry to have to say this, but I think that this Mr. Kōjirō is the first person we should suspect.’

‘But my dear Morisu, the police aren’t stupid. It goes without saying that Kō’s alibi was checked. But sadly for them, he was able to provide a perfect alibi.’

‘Namely?’

‘From the night of September 19th until the following morning, Kō was in the company of yours truly. He had called and invited me for drinks, which was quite unusual for him. We drank through the night in Beppu and I stayed at his home. I was also there in the morning when he received the news about what had happened.’

‘A perfect alibi, as you say.’

Shimada nodded.

‘I would like to hear more of your ideas, Morisu.’

‘Okay. This is not an idea I got just now, but it is something I’ve thought ever since I first read about the case in the newspapers.’

‘Yes?’

‘I can’t explain why, it’s just something I felt instinctively.’

Having warned the two in advance, Morisu continued:

‘I think that the most important issue in this case is the left hand of Mrs. Kazue, which went missing from the crime scene. I have the feeling we’ll have solved everything when we find that hand.’

‘The hand, indeed.’

Both Morisu and Shimada looked at their hands and kept silent.

‘By the way, Morisu, did you know that many of the Mystery Club members have gone to Tsunojima?’ asked Kawaminami.

‘Yes.’ Morisu smiled dryly. ‘I was also invited, but I said no. I’m not interested in such a gruesome place.’

‘When will they be back?’

‘They said one week from today.’

‘A whole week. In tents?’

‘They pulled a few strings. They’re staying in the Decagon House.’

‘Mr. Kōjirō did say he had got rid of the island. But something doesn’t feel right about all this: them heading for an island of the dead, just as a letter from the dead arrives.’

‘It would be a very bizarre coincidence.’

‘Do you believe it’s a coincidence?’

‘Probably not.’ Morisu closed his eyes once more. ‘But if we want to investigate this, we’ll first need to check if, besides Higashi, the other people who were at the after-after-party have also received a letter.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Are you going to do that?’

‘Will do. It’s spring holiday, so I have nothing to do anyway. Can’t do worse than pretending to be detective.’

‘That’s just like you. What if you take a look into the Tsunojima case, too, while you’re at it?’

‘A look into what precisely?’

‘For example, what about paying a visit to the family of Yoshikawa, the gardener who disappeared?’

‘But.…’

‘Conan,’ Shimada chimed in, ‘that’s actually a good idea. I told you Yoshikawa Sei’ichi lived in Ajimu, right? I believe his wife still lives there and she used to work for the Nakamura family on Tsunojima. So she’s the only living person who knows about the private lives of the Nakamuras. It’s worth a try.’

‘Do you know her address?’

‘It won’t take me long to find it.’

Shimada laughed joyfully as he patted his shallow cheeks.

‘What about this, Conan? Tomorrow morning you check who else got the letters, and then we’ll go to Ajimu in my car in the afternoon.’

‘All right. And you Morisu, are you coming along too?’

‘I’d like to, but I’ve got work to do. I told you I was doing this painting, didn’t I?’

Morisu indicated the canvas on the easel.

‘The Buddha statues of Kunisaki? You did tell me you liked them. Are you going to compete in an art contest?’

‘No, nothing like that. I just wanted to paint that sight before the flowers bloom. I’ve been going up there the last few days now.’

‘Wow.’

‘And I’ve never been the active type like you. I don’t even like talking to people I don’t know. But won’t you come back tomorrow night? It doesn’t matter how late you come. I’m interested in how the case turns out as well.’

Morisu leaned wearily against his bed and lit a cigarette he knew he wouldn’t enjoy.

‘For now, you’ll have to allow me to take on the role of armchair detective.’

CHAPTER THREE: THE SECOND DAY ON THE ISLAND

1

She had barely slept by the time she woke up.

They had retreated to their rooms at two in the morning. She had gone to bed immediately, but she hadn’t been able to get to sleep right away and had stared into the dark void. She just hadn’t felt at ease. The events of the day had brought up bad memories which had coiled themselves around her mind and wouldn’t let go.

Ellery, Van, Poe, Agatha, Leroux and Carr. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like these six. In fact, for the most part, she felt something akin to affection for all of them, even Carr. The one for whom she didn’t feel affection was none other than the person who was with them: herself.

Usually, when she experienced something depressing she could find salvation simply by going back to her boarding home, to her own room. She needed only to flee to her own little world. She could imagine everything she wanted there and steep herself in that world. There she would have her best friends, her ideal lover and even people who worshipped her no matter what. There she could be an attractive woman.

Bur….

But this was the first time in her life that she had set foot on this island, in this building, in this room. Even though she was finally all by herself now, her mind still felt uneasy.

She had regrets. She knew this would happen. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come here.

But, for her, this trip had held a special meaning.

The Decagon House on Tsunojima—had the others noticed it?

She knew. She knew that this was the home of the girl who had died because of their irresponsibility.

Nakamura Chiori was the only friend she had ever had, and to whom she felt she could have opened her heart. They were in the same faculty, had entered the same year and were of the same age… She’d felt that they were similar the moment they’d first met in the classroom. She was convinced Chiori had felt the same way. And they got along very well. They had also visited each other’s room several times.

‘My father is strange and lives far away on an island called Tsunojima,’ Chiori had told her once. She had also told her it was something she didn’t wish to be known.

Chiori had died. And now we have come here to this island, where she was born and where her parents died.

It wasn’t an intrusion, I was paying my respects
.

This she kept telling herself.

She had no intention of telling the others. It would be okay if it were just her, she thought. If she could just mourn Chiori’s death alone; if she could just provide some comfort to Chiori’s spirit.

But should she really be the one to do that? Wasn’t that self-conceit? Wasn’t it disrespectful to the dead to be coming to the island like this?

All the worrying eventually brought her a light sleep. She had a feeling she was seeing one dream after another, where reality and fantasy collided. The sceneries in her dreams were all cuts from the island she had seen today.

That’s why she had barely slept by the time she woke up.

With only the weak light showing through the gap between the shutters as her aid, she looked around the room, but she couldn’t judge whether she was still dreaming or had really woken up.

A blue carpet on the floor. The bed was fixed to the left of the window. On the wall to the right of the window stood a desk, a chest of drawers and a full-length mirror.

Orczy slowly raised herself up, got out of bed and opened the window.

The outside air felt chilly to the skin.

The sky was white with a few clouds. She could hear the peaceful sound of waves.

She looked at her wristwatch, which she had placed near her pillow. Eight o’clock.

She finally realised it was really morning.

She closed the window and got dressed.

A black skirt, a white blouse and, on top of that, a Bordeaux-red sweater with an Argyle pattern. As always, she only glanced briefly at the mirror. She did not like facing her own image.

Orczy got her toilet bag and went out of her room.

It didn’t seem as though any of the others were awake yet. Silence reigned over the decagonal hall, as if last night’s excitement had all just been a dream.

But then….

Orczy noticed that something she had not seen before had been placed on the table in the middle of the hall.

It reflected the light coming in from the skylight directly above, and blinded her for a moment.

Perplexed, Orczy walked slowly towards the table. As soon as she realised what had been placed there, she gasped and remained frozen to the spot.

…What is this?

She reached out to the table, but quickly pulled her arm back.

After a few moments of shock, she forgot about washing her face and ran to Agatha’s room.

2

The First Victim

The Second Victim

The Third Victim

The Fourth Victim

The Last Victim

The Detective

The Murderer

Seven milky-white plastic plates, fifteen centimetres wide, five centimetres high. Red letters had been printed on each of them.

‘What kind of joke is this?’

Ellery blinked in surprise, but then a smile formed on his lips.

Only the women were already dressed. The five men had merely put something light on over their pyjamas. They had all just been woken up by Agatha.

‘Great joke. Who’s behind this?’

Ellery addressed the question to everyone.

‘Wasn’t it you, Ellery?’

‘Not I, Leroux. Probably Carr or Agatha, right?’

‘Not I.’

‘Nor I.’

Agatha tensed, then continued: ‘It wasn’t you, Van?’

‘I know nothing about this,’ said Van, rubbing his puffy eyelids.

‘Was it you who found the plates, Agatha?’

‘No, Orczy was the first to find them. But you can’t believe she’s the one behind it.’

‘It wasn’t me.’

Orczy looked away as if she wanted to flee. Everyone’s eyes went to the one person remaining. But a frown appeared on Poe’s bearded face.

‘I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about this either.’

‘Well then, who is it?’

Ellery shrugged.

‘A joke’s fine and all that, but this has lasted long enough.’

Nobody said anything.

The seven looked at each other in an uncomfortable silence.

‘Ellery,’ said Poe, ‘I think that the person most likely to spring this kind of prank is either you or Agatha.’

‘I told you, it wasn’t me.’

‘And I’ll have you know it wasn’t me either.’

The hall turned silent once again in the morning light.

The silence became oppressive. Each was watching for a sign from one of the others, waiting for someone to break into laughter and admit to the deed.

A painfully long time passed, during which they could hear the distant sound of the waves.

‘I swear I didn’t do anything.’

Ellery finally spoke with a serious look on his face.

‘Is there really nobody who will admit to this? I’ll ask once again. Van?’

‘I don’t know anything about it.’

‘Agatha?’

‘I already said it wasn’t me.’

‘Carr?’

‘Nothing to do with it.’

‘Poe?’

‘Not I.’

‘And Leroux?’

‘You must be joking.’

‘Orczy?’

Orczy shook her head with a scared look.

Again the sound of waves reached the ears of the group. It resonated with and fomented the wave of anxiety that had taken hold of the motionless seven.

‘Alright then,’ said Ellery as he brushed the forelock from his brow.

‘The criminal—I can use the word, can’t I?—has to be one of us here. Considering that nobody has admitted to the deed, we’ll have to assume that one, or perhaps multiple persons are among us with devious intent.’

‘What do you mean by devious intent?’ asked Agatha.

‘How should I know? Someone’s plotting something,’ replied Ellery bluntly.

‘Don’t beat about the bush, Ellery.’ Carr spoke with a sneer. ‘Just come out with it. This is a murder warning.’

‘Don’t jump the gun, Carr!’

Ellery glared at him as, to everyone’s surprise, he raised his voice.

‘I’ll ask once again. Is there really nobody who’ll admit to having done this?’

They all shook their heads as they watched each other.

‘Very well, then,’ said Ellery and he gathered the seven plates from the table and sat down on one of the chairs.

‘Let’s all take a seat.’ Ellery conjured up his usual smile as he watched everybody slowly sitting down. ‘Sorry, Agatha, could you make us some coffee?’

‘Of course,’ said Agatha and she went to the kitchen alone.

Ellery looked alternately at the faces of the other five around the table and the plates in his hands. Nobody seemed to have even an inkling of what to say.

After a short time, Agatha appeared with a tray with coffee for everyone.

Ellery selected one of the steamy decagon-shaped cups and took a sip.

‘Well now….’

He put both hands into the pockets of the dark green cardigan he was wearing over his pyjamas and turned to the group.

‘The seven of us are the only people on the island. Therefore, the person who placed these plates here has to be one of us. Has to be. But we all claim to know nothing about them. That means one of us is intentionally hiding the fact he or she has placed them here for a reason.

‘As you can all see, these plates are made of plastic. The letters are printed in a Gothic type-face. The words appear to have been sprayed on with red paint, but none of that helps us to identify the culprit.’

‘But Ellery,’ said Leroux, ‘is lettering really so simple that anyone can do it? You have to have some experience to be able to do it, surely?’

‘So that would mean that Orczy is the prime suspect.’

‘Ellery, that’s not what I meant.’

‘The only one among us with any experience in illustrating and lettering is Orczy. Anything to say, Orczy?’

‘…It wasn’t me.’

‘Sorry, but that’s really not good enough.’

Orczy put her hands to her red face and looked up.

‘You can buy books everywhere nowadays with cut-out forms for lettering. Anyone could use them to make a form for spray paint.’

‘Exactly. Anyone with just a little feeling for the arts could have done this: I, or Poe or even Van.’

Ellery, still smiling, drank the rest of his still-steaming coffee.

‘What about the plates themselves?’

Leroux reached out and took one of them.

‘The edges aren’t really smooth.’

‘They didn’t come off-the-shelf. They were probably cut to size with a jigsaw or similar kind of tool.’

‘Could they have been underlays or something?’

‘The culprit probably paid a visit to the do-it-yourself corner in the local supermarket, Leroux. They have plastic boards of all sizes and colours.’

Ellery took the plate back from Leroux and arranged it with the others, like a hand of playing cards.

‘Let’s put these away for now,’ he said, as he stood up and went over to the kitchen. The eyes of the six others followed as if tied to him by string.

Through the open double doors they could see Ellery standing in front of the cupboard. He found an open drawer and dumped all of the plates inside. He came back into the hall and yawned in the refined manner of a Siamese cat.

‘My goodness, we all look really stupid.’

He opened his arms and looked down at himself.

‘We’re all up, so let’s get dressed.’

So saying, Ellery disappeared into his room and, with that, the tension hanging in the air also dissipated.

With a few sighs, the other six stood up one by one. The four men went separately back to their rooms, while Agatha and Orczy withdrew together to Agatha’s room.

They walked with anxious steps and there was not one of them who did not steal a look at the kitchen drawer with the seven plates before leaving the hall.

Thursday, March 27th. Their second day on the island had begun.

3

It was past noon.

Nobody at the lunch table mentioned the events of that morning.