The Kizuna Coast: A Rei Shimura Mystery (Rei Shimura Mysteries Book 11) by Sujata Massey Page B
Authors: Sujata Massey
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inside.
Clearly, some goods had been removed from the safe. I wondered if it had happened before or after Mr. Okada came in to get Hachiko.
I thought again about how I’d entered the shop. The door had been locked. Would a thief have bothered to lock the shop again after getting in? That could only have happened if the thief had found the store’s spare key.
I went back to the desk’s top drawer. The spare key rested inside an old cigar box, just as it had in my day. I also saw the sheet of important phone numbers. These were for Mr. Okada, Dr. Nakajima, Mr. Ishida’s personal physician; the Japan Post Bank, Federal Express, and me. At the very bottom were two new numbers: one for Animal House Veterinarian and the other for Mayumi.
Perhaps there wasn’t a burglary. I could be sending myself on a private trip to new, paranoid heights. Just because there was an empty lacquer box in the safe didn’t mean anything was missing from it. Maybe Mr. Ishida just kept the box there. I could call Mayumi to ask her about it, now that I had her number. I pressed this number into my phone and waited, tight with anticipation.
Four rings, and then a high-pitched, cheerful woman’s voice came on.
Mayumi here. Leave it at the beep! Arigato gozaimashita!
As I struggled to think of what I should say, the phone vibrated, and Michael’s number flashed on the screen. I hung up on Mayumi’s voice mail to answer.
“Great timing!” I let out a gusty breath. “You’ve caught me inside Mr. Ishida’s shop.”
“That’s right, you took the lock-picking set. How hard was it to get inside?”
“Too easy. I was offered a spare key from Mr. Okada, who owns the
senbei
shop next door. But now that I’m inside, I’m a bit worried something might have happened here.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the earthquake threw some objects on the ground, but that doesn’t explain why the cashbox is sitting empty on top of the business desk, and there’s another lacquer box inside his safe that’s empty.”
“Think there was a break-in?”
I heard a sipping sound, and imagined that Michael was drinking his customary glass of ice water, having arrived from canoeing home.
“Very possibly. I suppose the police could figure it out—”
Michael interrupted, “Tell me more. What exactly do you see?”
“Okay,” I said, looking around again. “A number of things are lying on the shop floor, mostly pottery, but I saw folders, too. Right away I noticed that a plate of fruit had fallen from Mr. Ishida’s Buddhist altar. The oranges had rotted on the floor, and the plate was completely smashed. ”
“Sounds like an earthquake. Can you tell if anything’s missing? Sorry. You’ve not been in the shop for over a year, right?”
“There’s an inventory list, but Mayumi’s chosen to list the acquisitions only in Japanese. I really need the English to be able to understand what’s what. It also seems that plenty of valuable pieces are still around. If a burglar came in and left behind the
inro
and
netsuke
collection, he was pretty clueless.” I paused, not sure I wanted to give voice to my darkest thought. “Unless someone threw everything around to look like a burglary.”
“Who’s Mayumi?”
“She’s the hip apprentice Mr. Ishida hired last year. I telephoned a number Mr. Ishida had for her in his desk, but there wasn’t an answer.”
“What’s hip about her?”
“Well, she has blue hair. It’s utterly ludicrous for someone working in a shop like Mr. Ishida’s, you know?”
“Excuse me, sweetheart, but you had a navel ring the first six months we were together.” There was laughter in Michael’s voice. “I didn’t ask you to get rid of it, either.”
Hastily, I said, “I’m not going to judge her taste. But it’s kind of teenagery to color one’s hair like that. And if she’s anywhere near Tokyo and hasn’t come by, it seems irresponsible.”
“Call her again,” Michael advised. “Public transportation is
Clearly, some goods had been removed from the safe. I wondered if it had happened before or after Mr. Okada came in to get Hachiko.
I thought again about how I’d entered the shop. The door had been locked. Would a thief have bothered to lock the shop again after getting in? That could only have happened if the thief had found the store’s spare key.
I went back to the desk’s top drawer. The spare key rested inside an old cigar box, just as it had in my day. I also saw the sheet of important phone numbers. These were for Mr. Okada, Dr. Nakajima, Mr. Ishida’s personal physician; the Japan Post Bank, Federal Express, and me. At the very bottom were two new numbers: one for Animal House Veterinarian and the other for Mayumi.
Perhaps there wasn’t a burglary. I could be sending myself on a private trip to new, paranoid heights. Just because there was an empty lacquer box in the safe didn’t mean anything was missing from it. Maybe Mr. Ishida just kept the box there. I could call Mayumi to ask her about it, now that I had her number. I pressed this number into my phone and waited, tight with anticipation.
Four rings, and then a high-pitched, cheerful woman’s voice came on.
Mayumi here. Leave it at the beep! Arigato gozaimashita!
As I struggled to think of what I should say, the phone vibrated, and Michael’s number flashed on the screen. I hung up on Mayumi’s voice mail to answer.
“Great timing!” I let out a gusty breath. “You’ve caught me inside Mr. Ishida’s shop.”
“That’s right, you took the lock-picking set. How hard was it to get inside?”
“Too easy. I was offered a spare key from Mr. Okada, who owns the
senbei
shop next door. But now that I’m inside, I’m a bit worried something might have happened here.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the earthquake threw some objects on the ground, but that doesn’t explain why the cashbox is sitting empty on top of the business desk, and there’s another lacquer box inside his safe that’s empty.”
“Think there was a break-in?”
I heard a sipping sound, and imagined that Michael was drinking his customary glass of ice water, having arrived from canoeing home.
“Very possibly. I suppose the police could figure it out—”
Michael interrupted, “Tell me more. What exactly do you see?”
“Okay,” I said, looking around again. “A number of things are lying on the shop floor, mostly pottery, but I saw folders, too. Right away I noticed that a plate of fruit had fallen from Mr. Ishida’s Buddhist altar. The oranges had rotted on the floor, and the plate was completely smashed. ”
“Sounds like an earthquake. Can you tell if anything’s missing? Sorry. You’ve not been in the shop for over a year, right?”
“There’s an inventory list, but Mayumi’s chosen to list the acquisitions only in Japanese. I really need the English to be able to understand what’s what. It also seems that plenty of valuable pieces are still around. If a burglar came in and left behind the
inro
and
netsuke
collection, he was pretty clueless.” I paused, not sure I wanted to give voice to my darkest thought. “Unless someone threw everything around to look like a burglary.”
“Who’s Mayumi?”
“She’s the hip apprentice Mr. Ishida hired last year. I telephoned a number Mr. Ishida had for her in his desk, but there wasn’t an answer.”
“What’s hip about her?”
“Well, she has blue hair. It’s utterly ludicrous for someone working in a shop like Mr. Ishida’s, you know?”
“Excuse me, sweetheart, but you had a navel ring the first six months we were together.” There was laughter in Michael’s voice. “I didn’t ask you to get rid of it, either.”
Hastily, I said, “I’m not going to judge her taste. But it’s kind of teenagery to color one’s hair like that. And if she’s anywhere near Tokyo and hasn’t come by, it seems irresponsible.”
“Call her again,” Michael advised. “Public transportation is
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