The Ethnic Detectives by Bill Pronzini Martin H Greenbe

Author:Bill Pronzini, Martin H Greenbe [Bill Pronzini, Martin H Greenbe]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Nearly five minutes passed before Saito could bring himself to walk through Ohno’s gate again. He found the priest where he had found him before, on the porch. Saito didn’t say anything but sat down.

“Yes?”

“I am sorry, I have come to arrest you.”

Ohno didn’t reply. Saito sat quietly.

Several minutes passed.

“Please come with me, Ohno-san.”

The priest turned and faced the inspector. “No. I will have to ask you a favor. Let me go inside and please wait half an hour. I will leave a confession and you can close your case.”

Saito smiled, but the smile was neither positive nor negative. It was very quiet on the porch.

Ohno cleared his throat. “Would you mind explaining why you chose me?”

“Because you killed her. She was killed by an amateur, by someone who doesn’t know how to handle a knife. A knife fighter will hold his weapon low and thrust upward, so that the knife pierces the soft skin of the belly and so its point will travel upward, behind the ribs. To stab downward is silly—the ribs protect the heart. Much unnecessary force is needed. And the attacker who holds his knife high has no defense, his own body is left open.”

“Many people walk through this compound. Most of them do not know how to handle a knife.”

“That is not true. There are very few people about after nine o’clock. Even when we found the dead woman a crowd didn’t gather. And whoever killed Miss Davis either hated her or was frightened of her. To hate or to fear takes time. The feeling isn’t born overnight. Miss Davis only spent a few months in Japan and kept herself apart. The only person she involved herself with was you. You were her teacher. She came here every night. But she also came during the day. Did you sleep with her, Ohno-san?”

The priest’s head jerked forward briefly. “I did.”

“She seduced you?”

The head jerked again.

“She was in love with you?”

Ohno’s even white teeth sparkled briefly in the soft moonlight.

“No. To love means to be prepared to give. She wanted to have. And she wanted me to give to her. The way has many secrets, many powers. Our training, when practiced properly, is complete. It is also slow, unbearably slow. Miss Davis comes from a country that believes in quick results. Americans are capable of great effort, but they want rewards. She suspected that I knew something and she wanted what I knew.”

“You were teaching her meditation. You were giving.”

“Yes. But meditation takes forever, or so she began to believe. She wanted to be initiated, to be given powers. I told her my rank was too low, my development too minute. Only a true teacher can pass a student. This temple is a little school for beginners, for toddlers. The abbot knows I have disciples and he watches them. He will take over when he feels that the disciples are ready. Mr. McGraw is sometimes allowed to see the abbot. He has learned much—he has learned to be modest.

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