The Mystery Clock - Chapter 5
“I see. I understand Tokizane’s feelings very well. I want to ascertain the identity of the culprit, regardless of whether the execution is called for or not.”
Motojiima thought Tokizane’s declaration that he would shoot the culprit to death was a bluff.
“Everyone, what do you think? If we compare our accounts at this time, we may be able to shed a light on the truth of what really transpired.”
“Since that is the case, we would be glad to cooperate,” Kumakura replied, with a dizzy look on his face. His blood pressure may have been excessively high.
“How do you propose to do it?” Tokizane nodded.
“Well…First of all, I think it would be wise not to disrupt the crime scene any further. Everyone, let’s go downstairs for the time being, and then we’ll take turns speaking about it.”
“Before we do that, I’d like to confirm something,” Enomoto stopped them.
“The computer is turned off, isn’t it? If Mori went to her study to do her work and was poisoned, her computer should have been operating at the time of the poisoning.”
“I see! That means the culprit switched off the power,” Kawai shouted.
“Probably. Then why did they intentionally shut down the computer?”
“After all, isn’t it to disguise it as a suicide?”
Junko wondered why he was asking such an obvious question.
“If there are still some unfinished writings on the monitor, it would give the impression that she passed away suddenly, but if she had finished them, it would imply that she was able to sort out her feelings before she died, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t think so In mysteries, suicide notes are frequently left on monitor screens, but the majority of them were left by the murderer. Not having to fret about handwriting is a major advantage. These are especially common in circumstances like this when it’s uncertain whether the victim committed suicide or not, and even if the evidence isn’t solid, individuals would rather leave a suicide note implying that the deceased committed suicide. Why the murderer didn’t do so is a mystery to me,” Hikijii rebutted, crossing his arms.
“Isn’t it because there is already a suicide note?”
Junko pointed to the previous note. It would be odd if there were duplicate suicide notes or if they spanned across the paper and the monitor screen.
“I see. However, considering that, it makes it all the more logical to terminate the computer.”
Hikijii was not easily convinced.
“Leaving a scribbled suicide note implies spontaneous suicide. If they had the time to terminate the computer, they would have done a better job of writing it down. The direction they were taking was illogical.”
“In other words, the murderer poisoned Reiko and then terminated the PC? There is no need to wait for the game to end; it just takes a few seconds; nevertheless, what was their intention for doing so?” Tokizane mused, his hunting rifle still in hand.
If someone jumped at him right now, they might be able to snatch the gun away from him. Although that was what Junko thought, no one would take such a risk in the real world, let alone in a movie.
“…Yeah. I don’t understand. I doubt we’ll reach a conclusion anytime soon. Is it safe to say that the reason for dropping the PC is temporarily on hold?”
“Regarding that, I’d like to start up the computer again and see if there are any clues to be found in Mori’s last writings.”
Tokizane thought about Enomoto’s request for a while and then shook his head.
“That strikes me as a little too risky. I’m no expert, but I don’t believe we should overlook the possibility of losing data if we handle it recklessly. It would be wise to have the police check it out later.”
“I see. Indeed, preserving the evidence should be done carefully,” Kumakura concurred, which was a rare occurrence for him.
“I have one more thing to ask. Did Mori listen to the radio while she was working?” Enomoto posed an unnatural question.
“Right. I think there were times when she did listen to it, but why?”
“On the shelf adjacent to the desk is an Accuphase FM tuner. It may be out of date, but it must have cost more than 300,000 yen when it was brand new. In these days when high-resolution sound sources are attracting attention, few people would use such a high-end product to listen to FM broadcasts, which are inferior in sound quality. I thought she must have been very fond of radio.”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Reiko wrote about that in an essay a while back. When she was writing, she sometimes wanted to listen to music, but couldn’t be bothered to change CDs every time without having to put the CDs back on. Then it occurred to her that she used to play FM music during her exam studies, and when she tried it out, the Japanese speech didn’t get in the way, so she was able to get her work done smoothly.”
Motojima amused the guests as he showed how much of a freak he was for Mori Reiko.
“Well, she was a radio listener in her youth. But what’s the problem with that?” Tokizane asked, sounding slightly exasperated.
“It’s the same thing with the computer. I guess the FM was left on when Mori passed away, wasn’t it?”
“So the murderer erased that, too?” Kawai murmured with a look of incomprehension on his face.
“That’s a strong possibility, I suppose.”
Even if that was the case, Junko had no idea what significance it might hold.
After that, everyone went downstairs, propelled by Tokizane’s muzzle. The six invited guests, along with Sasaki Natsumi and Yamanaka Ayaka, who had heard the commotion and rushed from their rooms, were all on the first floor.
When Junko returned to the hall, she first double-checked the safety of the eight clocks. Everything was in order. Since she had been with Enomoto the whole time, there was no way someone would steal them.
“…9:49 pm huh?”
When Tokizane glanced at the radio clock on the wall and observed that some people had settled down on the couches, he made a disapproving face.
“I think it’s too relaxing here that it is not a good place for questioning. Would you mind moving to the dining room?”
Tokizane waved his gun in an intimidating manner, compelling all of them to head for the dining room. Across the large table, eight people were seated, while Tokizane remained standing.
“Everyone, please look at the clock over there.”
Tokizane pointed at the grandfather clock with his gun.
“It’s 9:50 now.”
The two plates on the flip clock next to it flipped from 49 to 50.
“There is no time for endless discussion. We have one hour. Within that time, we will identify the culprit.”
“And if that fails to happen?” Kumakura asked with a face full of greasy sweat.
“We can do it. At that point, I will pass judgment and execute the culprit,” said Tokizane indifferently. “Please don’t think I’m bluffing. The real reason why I asked you all to move over here is that there is a risk of hitting Reiko’s collection if I open fire in the hall.”
Junko’s spine tingled with a shiver. She had been bracing herself for the possibility that Tokizane was not being serious, but she may have underestimated him a little too much.
This man would shoot a man in cold blood if push came to shove. That was her intuition’s warning.
“I have to warn you all that the murderer will try to derail the conversation and prevent us from learning the truth. Be wary if you notice this pattern in someone’s statements. Then, even if no flawless proof exists, I will proceed with the execution. This means that even if you are innocent, you are not 100% safe. If you don’t want to be falsely accused, please make every effort to find the real perpetrator within an hour.”
This was outrageous. Junko suddenly realized the absurdity and gravity of the situation she was in. If she was misidentified as the murderer, she might face a violent death without question.
“Wait a minute. First of all, the assumption that there is a murderer in this group is strange, right?”
Kumakura’s thin hair stood on edge as though he had scratched his head.
“There is no room for doubt on that point,” Tokizane remained unmoved. “There is no way that someone from the outside could have entered the house and killed Reiko. Isn’t that right, Enomoto?”
Enomoto nodded.
“When I arrived, I saw that the main entrance and the kitchen door of the villa are equipped with fingerprint authentication locks. Since they require the registered owner’s fingerprint or a 12-digit PIN number to unlock, it would be impossible for anyone from the outside to break in.”
“But there’s still the possibility they accessed through the window, right?” Kumakura refused to back down.
“I inspected that as well, but when I examined the windows, they were all closed. Any attempt to open the windows or break the glass should set off the emergency alarms, according to the sensors,” Tokizane supplemented Enomoto’s answer.
“Enomoto is right. Although I wanted to request SECOM or ALSOK, unfortunately, they are out of our service area. Instead, we have installed sensors that are just as reliable or superior.”
“You don’t have surveillance cameras?” Kawai asked.
“No, we do not. We were planning to ask Enomoto to handle that tonight too,” Tokizane expressed his regret.
Despite Kumakura’s efforts to speak up, he eventually gave up.
“I believe it was around 8:41 p.m. when Reiko went to the study. Since we went to the study and identified the body a little before 9:44 p.m., that means it was roughly an hour ago,” Tokizane readily stated the time without even reviewing the memo.
“Let’s hear from each of you in turn about what you were doing during that time… Let’s start with Kawai.”
“Wait a minute,” Kawai glared at Tokizane with suspicious eyes. “First of all, I’d like to know your alibi. Didn’t you go out to make a phone call and were absent from the hall for the longest time?”
Tokizane looked back at Kawai quietly.
“Fine then. I was talking to President Shimizu of Tobishima Bookstore on a satellite cell phone the whole time. Afterwards, I checked the radio clock in the hall, and I think it was 9:39 pm.”
“Your words alone do not constitute an alibi.”
Kawai folded his arms stubbornly.
“Of course, I can lie in order to deceive you on this occasion. However, that kind of thing will be instantly exposed if you go behind the scenes later,” Tokizane shrugged.
“You can confirm that the call I had was with President Shimizu, don’t you, Motojima?”
“Yes, it was indeed the President,” Motojima clarified. The mere recollection of it made him look a little uncomfortable.
“As you have heard, I am sure President Shimizu will testify that I am telling the truth. By checking the phone records of both parties, the exact time of the incident can be verified.”
“Even so, isn’t it still possible that you committed the crime while making the phone call, seizing the smallest of gaps in time?” Kawai persisted in pursuing the issue. “Since you have a free pass with a fingerprint lock, you should have been able to go around the outside and enter through the main entrance and proceed to the second floor. I wonder if there is a log of the fingerprint authentication lock?”
“The system does not keep a log. But in order to use a satellite cell phone indoors, you need a relay connected to an outdoor antenna with a cable. Since there is no such equipment hereーー I had to stay outside of the villa where I had a clear view of the sky the whole time. That would be impossible.”
“You were on the phone with President Shimizu for about 30 minutes, isn’t that right?” Enomoto interrupted.
“Well, yeah.”
Junko tried to recall. When Tokizane handed the phone to Motojima, she looked at the radio clock on the wall; if she remembered correctly, it was 9:08. Tokizane then withdrew while on the phone, reappearing at 9:39 to announce the end of the guessing game. If he was on the phone until 9:38, that would be approximately 30 minutes.
“If you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me what you were talking about for such a long time?”
When Enomoto asked, Tokizane seemed upset.
“If the call is known, it should be enough of an alibi. Is it necessary to provide details?”
“You’re a famous writer, Tokizane, but it’s a bit strange that you’re so close to the president of a major publishing company.”
“I see. So you mean I am at least on the same level as Reiko huh?” Tokizane’s lips twisted in displeasure. “I understand. I made a proposal to President Shimizu. To put it roughly, I’d like to put all of Reiko’s works in Tobishima Bunko and give him the rights to visualize them on a comprehensive basis.”
Natsumi was the most taken aback by this.
“Um, is that something Mori knows about too?”
“Of course. There’s no way I can arbitrarily make such a proposal.”
“But all the works, including the film rights are… For publishers who publish original books, this must be a bolt from the blue to them.”
With publishers who publish books and paperbacks, they probably have contracts that stipulate the rights of secondary use, and if they force the issue, it may not only lead to a crack in the relationship…
“So, what price will Tobishima Bookshop pay?”
Motojima was puzzled by the fact that the issue was being done something without consultation.
“We are still negotiating, but we are considering promoting the film by approaching movie studios and TV stations, organizing a large-scale Mori Reiko fair, and other things.”
She wondered if the “other” included cash. Junko had no estimation as to how much it would cost.
Nonetheless, everyone in the room must have had the same impression. If Mori Reiko were to pass away, not only the existing property but also all the copyrights would be inherited, and consequently, an enormous amount of profit would be gained.
“So Kawai, this time it’s your turn.”
Kawai scratched his head and licked his lips.
“I don’t really have anything to say. After all, I was staying with everyone the whole time, remember?”
“Really? You’ve never moved from your spot, even for a second?” Tokizane questioned him with a sharp look.
“No, I don’t think so.” At this critical moment, Kawai exposed himself as a tragically inept actor. It was obvious to everyone that he was lying.
“While the room was dark, I thought I caught sight of you leaving the hall,” Kumakura persistently pursued.
“Eh? No, that’s not possible…”
“Kawai, if you don’t tell the truth, you will be accused of the murder,” Junko’s warning caused his complexion to change.
“Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t really do anything.”
“I recall it vividly as well. Although I don’t know the time, you left the hall at a very critical moment. You nearly tripped over my wheelchair when you were leaving.”
Hikijii sternly added the final word.
“I never expected you to be the murderer, huh?” Tokizane pointed the gun at Kawai.
“Wait! You’re wrong. I didn’t do anything!”
“Then why did you lie?”
“That’s because… I thought it would raise suspicion! When I was trying to figure out the price of the watch, I went to the bathroom to cool off. But I came right back! I was out of the hall for maybe two or three minutes… Kumakura, I was out of the hall for two or three minutes, right?”
“Yeah. I’m sure you came back, but I’m not certain how long you have been gone.”
Kumakura’s reply was inconclusive.
“Hikijii… Hikijii, you remember it distinctly, don’t you?”
“I’m afraid I don’t remember it at all. Because you didn’t trip over my wheelchair when you came back,” Hikijii said with a cool face.
“No way… Why would I kill Aunt Reiko, anyway?” Kawai who had been cornered yelled out. As expected, Kawai’s voice was well delivered with impact.
“About that, it seems that you have been in financial difficulties since quite some time ago, isn’t that right? I’ve heard that you have repeatedly asked for loans from Reiko.”
Tokizane’s muzzle remained still.
“That’s… That doesn’t mean I’m going to kill her! My aunt has always adored me!”
“That’s right. When I read Reiko’s will before, it was full of love for her immediate family. You were supposed to be left a substantial amount of inheritance.”
“Eh? I didn’t know that. She never said anything about that to me. This is really the truth. Please believe me, everyone.” Kawai tearfully pleaded his innocence, but Tokizane was silent. Sensing the eyes of those around her shifting towards Kawai, Junko opened her mouth.
“Um, please wait a minute. Even if Kawai left the hall, how exactly did he kill Mori?”
Silence reigned.
“He must have sneaked up the stairs to the study, and while chatting with Reiko, he slipped aconitine into her coffee as soon as he caught an opportunity. The crime would have been committed in five minutes.”
Kumakura had somehow become the spearhead of the Kawai culprit theory.
“That explanation is quite a stretch.”
Junko was relieved when Enomoto mentioned this.
“First of all, no matter how much he is her nephew, wouldn’t Mori be suspicious if he suddenly showed up in her study?”
“I think so too. She hated it more than anything else when she was interrupted in the middle of writing,” Natsumi testified. Therefore, when she was asked to go check on her, she was hesitant to do so.
“Besides, I think it would be very difficult to slip a drug into the coffee that the other person is drinking. If anybody does something strange, the whole scene will be in plain view.”
“That depends on the situation, doesn’t it? He may have chosen a time when Reiko’s eyes were fixed on the monitor, or he may have taken the coffee cup away from her for some reason.”
Kumakura was persistent.
“Well, let’s say we’ve cleared that up. But how did he obtain the vital drug, aconitine?”
“That… He must have used something that was in Reiko’s room. It would not be surprising if he had heard about the collection of poisons.”
“Does this mean that Kawai went to Mori’s study empty-handed, procured aconitine on the spot, and successfully mixed it into the coffee before killing her? In a matter of five minutes or so?”
No one could answer this question. Finally, it appeared that everyone had begun to realize that the Kawai murder theory was practically a false accusation.
“Wait a minute. There is this possibility. Although there was a vial of aconitine on the spot for all to see, the murderer may have used another poison they brought with them.”
Kumakura was not ready to give up. Perhaps he was very displeased with Kawai.
“Whether or not he is addicted to aconitine is something the police will find out right away if they investigate. I don’t think he’d pull such a blatant stunt,” Tokizane was dismissive.
“Then what if he used aconitine, but prepared it separately?”
“Wouldn’t it be very difficult to acquire them?” Junko questioned. Tokizane said that he had purified it himself, but it would not be possible for anyone to accomplish this.
“…Fine then. At this point, we have not found any proof that Kawai did it. Let’s continue our investigation.”
Tokizane finally lowered the muzzle of the gun. Kawai was leaning deeply in his seat and taking deep breaths. Junko thought, “This has gone horribly awry”. Would they ever be able to get out of the villa in one piece?
She looked at the grandfather clock and saw that it read 10:06.
The clock flipped from 10:05 to 10:06.
Tokizane started this private courtroom at 9:50. It seemed as if only sixteen minutes had passed.
This could turn out to be a long night.