Sherlock Sam and the Obento Bonanza in Tokyo by A. J. Low

Author:A. J. Low [Low, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789814655033
Publisher: Epigram Books
Published: 2016-09-13T04:00:00+00:00

Dad nodded and said, “You never know what people will say or do when they don’t realise they’re being watched.”

Mom narrowed her eyes at Dad and said, “Don’t think I won’t find out if you end up buying more gadgets and toys.” Dad gulped, then grinned nervously.

As we made our way through the narrow lanes, no one paid much attention to Inspector Lestrade despite her robot disguise. That surprised me. But then, I supposed a robot wandering around Akiba wasn’t all that weird. Plus, now that I think about it, Watson, much to his dismay, was also often ignored back home too.

Chihiyo approached one of the shop owners and spoke in rapid Japanese, gesturing vigorously. The uncle behind the table laughed and called his friend over and they conferred in more rapid Japanese. I thoroughly admired her fluency in both English and Japanese, and decided that I should work harder at my Chinese.

Inspector Lestrade was looking at the radio parts in fascination. “I wonder if I could make myself a costume that looked like a giant radio. I especially like the antennas. They remind me of the radio boxes my grand-mère used to have. What do you think, Sherlock Sam?”

“Why do you like cosplaying so much, Inspector?” I asked, curious. She was so different from the usually serious Officer Siva, but he seemed to trust her beyond measure.

“Because, Sherlock Sam, we are all playing a role in this life, are we not?” she replied. “And all the world is a stage!” She flung her robotic arms out as she said this and almost knocked over some of the display sets, which made the shop owners frown. “Also, it is fun! And in my line of work, I sometimes need fun. You understand?”

I nodded. I did understand. It was why I was always so grateful to the Supper Club. They made being a detective fun.

“It is already 11 o’clock, Master Sherlock,” Moran said. “Is it time for a second breakfast?” As if by magic, a warm scone wrapped in a napkin appeared in his hand. He also offered one to the inspector, who politely declined and muttered something about how it was only 11 o’clock. I looked around to see if Watson was spying on us before taking it and munching on it gratefully.

While Chihiyo was talking to the shop owners, I observed their reactions. They all seemed helpful and relaxed. None of them looked like they were worried about being found out. I watched for signs of perspiration. If someone was sweating, especially in this weather, it would be reasonable to deduce that the person was feeling nervous, which would arouse my suspicion. However, it didn’t look like any of them were our mysterious obento makers.

Chihiyo bowed deeply to the helpful shop owners and thanked them before returning to us. “They don’t remember any red-and-black lacquered obento boxes, but they said that there was a string of robberies here around the time the photos were taken.”

Robberies? That was certainly new. “What did the thieves take?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

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