Three Assassins by Isaka Kōtarō

Author:Isaka, Kōtarō [Isaka, Kōtarō]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Mystery, Crime, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781419763854
Amazon: 1419763857
Goodreads: 60310785
Publisher: Harry N. Abrams
Published: 2004-07-31T07:00:00+00:00

Suzuki

THE PLATES ARE CLEARED FROM the table. Sumire’s movements are quick and efficient as she washes the dishes. Suzuki is conscious of Asagao’s gaze on him the whole time. When she finishes at the sink, Sumire asks, ‘How about some coffee?’

Across the table, Kojiro has produced another postcard that he leans over. ‘B-u-n-k-y-o, w-a-r-d,’ he sounds out the address, half singing it. ‘T-s-u-j-i-o-k-a, 3, 2.’ It’s adorable. He must want to send more than one. If we’d had kids, this would be what it felt like, Suzuki thinks, and then he pictures his wife. Crushed between a car and an electric pole, her neck bent all wrong.

It was immediately clear that the person driving the car that hit his wife was a dangerous character. Suzuki wasn’t satisfied having it written up as a standard traffic accident, so he used his savings to hire a private detective.

‘Mr Suzuki, I think you’d better leave this one alone,’ the detective told him after looking into it. It was less of a report and more of a warning.

‘That’s it? I’m just supposed to forget about it?’

‘The car involved in the accident is associated with somebody other than the name on file.’ He went on to explain that the crash was one of Terahara’s son’s joyrides. The detective didn’t want to say any more than that, but Suzuki pressed him and eventually got him to reveal what he knew about Fräulein.

‘So there’s this whole other criminal world?’ At the time Suzuki was just a teacher, and was innocently amazed to hear this. Terahara, Fräulein, it all seemed like some fantasy. Perhaps because he was so angry, he didn’t think to be scared. He was just angry, and amazed.

‘There are all kinds of worlds,’ said the detective. ‘For instance, do you know how many types of insects there are?’

Guess we were talking about insects then, too, Suzuki remembers now.

‘There are a million species. A million. And every day they’re discovering more. Some people say that if we include the species we haven’t yet discovered, there might be as many as ten million.’

‘More than ten times what we know now,’ Suzuki replied hazily.

‘It’s the same for all the worlds that we can’t normally see.’

‘Lost in thought?’ Asagao peers at Suzuki’s face.

‘Are you that concerned about whether or not we’ll hire you?’ Sumire sounds sympathetic.

‘Oh, no, it’s not that.’ Suzuki then tells them honestly, ‘I was just thinking about my wife.’

‘You’re married, Mr Suzuki?’ Sumire leans forward mischievously, exactly like a college student getting the gossip on someone’s love life. Her eyes fall on his ring and her smile widens.

‘Yes …’ Suzuki’s voice trails off. He twists the ring around his finger. It’s loose and feels like it could fall right off.

‘How’d you meet, how’d you meet?’ Sumire is clearly very interested.

‘At a buffet.’

He first met his wife when he was on a solo trip to Hiroshima, five years back. He was staying at a slightly fancy hotel a short trolley ride from the center of town.

Breakfast was in the restaurant on the top floor, served buffet-style.

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