DEATH OF THE YELLOW SWAN by Steven M. Roth

Author:Steven M. Roth
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781732874831
Publisher: Blackstone Press
Published: 2020-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

As I approached the building’s entrance and looked at the tall Sikh who, dressed in an orange head-dress and white tunic, stood sentry outside the front doors, I wondered how a young woman, who ostensibly earned her living as a nightclub chanteuse and occasional flower-seller girl, could afford to live in a luxurious place like this.

As I neared the doors, the Sikh said, “May I be of assistance to you, sir?” He bowed slightly from his waist, but never took his eyes off me. As he asked this, he moved to block the doorway, not at all being subtle about it.

I looked up at him. He was about three-quarters of a meter taller than I am, younger, much broader, and, to all appearances, much more fit than I am even though I practice Shaolin every morning.

“Shi — Yes, I said. “I’m a private investigator. I’m here to talk to anyone who knows anything about Matsuko Akasuki, the Yellow Swan, a former, recent resident of this building. She’s now dead, unfortunately, in case you didn’t know.”

“Sorry, honorable sir,” he said, “but we do not permit solicitations here. The residents require that we respect their privacy.”

“That’s noble,” I said, “except Miss Akasuki in no longer a resident and has no expectations. As I said, she’s dead. Murdered. She no longer expects you to safeguard her privacy.”

The Sikh didn’t budge from his place in front of the doors. He crossed his arms over his capacious chest and continued to block my way. He now looked down at me, it seemed, with contempt in his eyes.

“Good day, sir.”

I nodded at the man, then turned and walked back down the path, away from the front doors. There was no point in wasting time trying to convince him to let me enter the building. He had a job to do, though he misconceived its purpose, and would likely not budge from his perception of what his job was and how he should perform it. I would never be able to convince him that dead people do not care about their privacy.

I headed home. I would go forward this afternoon to learn more about the Yellow Swan’s after-hours’ night life now that I knew from Elder Brother that she’d had one.

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