The Noh Mask Murder by Akimitsu Takagi and Jesse Kirkwood

The Noh Mask Murder by Akimitsu Takagi and Jesse Kirkwood

Author:Akimitsu Takagi and Jesse Kirkwood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pushkin Press
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00


7

Third Act

(Koichi Yanagi’s journal, continued)

We had learned a great deal in the course of the day. Of course, we were yet to fully penetrate the secrets of the Chizui family’s past; still, we now knew that the murders that had occurred within the family could only be understood against the backdrop of the various hidden crimes we had uncovered.

I’d managed to gain an insight into the Professor’s mysterious death, reveal the truth behind his wife’s supposed insanity, explain the causes of Hisako’s own madness and confirm that Sawako was not, in fact, Taijiro’s daughter. These were all suspicions I had harboured for a long time, but to have bolstered them with facts, and thereby to have impressed them onto Mr Ishikari and Akimitsu, felt like an achievement that would be crucial to solving the case—or at least so I hoped. Then there were those words uttered by Kayoko, which even I had not been expecting.

Eighty-eight in eighty-two and Portia.

If my theory was correct and Kayoko had been sane all this time, then these words were surely a vital clue. It was a mystery I felt compelled to solve. And yet I couldn’t help feeling that I might have overstepped the mark today—after all, I was supposed to be playing a supporting role, and yet I had begun to act like the protagonist. But Akimitsu didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

‘My dear Koichi,’ he said, patting me on the shoulder as we were about to part ways outside the Marine Hotel, ‘I must say I’m rather impressed by your deductive talents. All this time, I’ve been prattling on about being the Japanese Philo Vance, but just look at what you achieved today. Why not give up the chemistry and become a private detective? I’ll be your chronicler if you like—your Watson, your Van Dine. How about a drink to celebrate?’

My mind was still occupied by the mystery of the family, but I wasn’t going to spurn his praise. I followed him up to his hotel room, where he cracked open a bottle of his favourite whisky and offered me a glass.

‘Koichi, a toast to your talents and future. Go on, drink it down. I’m afraid I don’t have much by way of snacks, but how about these canned sardines? … Anyway, that Chizui family really are a despicable lot, aren’t they! The Professor’s wife was sane, I’m sure of it—and yet they locked her up in a mental asylum for a whole decade … You know, these murders are probably no less than they deserve. I suppose the killer must be Rintaro or Sawako, but I’m not even sure I feel like stopping them any more. Much easier to wait for the final murder, then arrest whoever’s left over, don’t you think? How about another drink? This whisky isn’t too bad, is it …’

By now he was on his fourth or fifth glass and seemed quite drunk, not to mention high on his own jabber. His eyes had glazed over slightly, while his cheeks had taken on an almost rouge-like flush.



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