The Salaryman's Wife(42)

“Mr. Glendinning was arrested yesterday morning in connection with Setsuko Nakamura’s death and Kenji Yamamoto’s disappearance.” There was a rushing in my ears, but faintly in the distance, Mr. Ota continued. “According to Japanese law, a civilian can be arrested and detained without bail for forty-eight hours on the suspicion of having committed a crime. After that a public prosecutor must rule whether there is enough evidence to keep him in custody. Unfortunately, I believe this may happen to my client.”

Captain Okuhara must have gone crazy with what I told him two days ago. I would call him back, straighten things out.

“The police chief is obviously refusing to consider Mr. Nakamura because it’s easier to blame a foreigner. I’ll talk to him.” I headed for the telephone.

“Please do not do that!” Mr. Ota issued as much of a command as was possible in polite Japanese. “Anything you say can be used against Mr. Glendinning. It happened before.”

“All I told him was that the autopsy should be reevaluated because it showed signs of a head injury! Nothing about Hugh.”

“You told the captain that Mr. Glendinning stole the autopsy. That made him look very bad,” Mr. Ota said sternly. I wondered if he’d come just to make me feel guilty. Well, it was my fault. My new year’s resolution had been to think before speaking, and I’d failed.

Mr. Ota’s accusing litany continued. “Miss Shimura, you also put forth a theory about a bathroom killing. Based on that, the police found evidence at the bottom of the bath, part of Mrs. Nakamura’s fingernail. And they say Mr. Glendinning’s fingerprints were on the window from where the body was dropped. The deceased lady’s jewelry was in his room, and now Mrs. Yogetsu, the innkeeper, swears that she heard the two of them together in the bathroom that night, arguing.”

“My fingerprints were there, too. On the window and on the pearls. And I—I was arguing with him in the bath. Why didn’t they hold me for questioning?”

“Maybe because you called it in. Good scout, neh? Count your blessings.” He looked pained as he spoke. “If things were more ambiguous, we’d have a better chance for my client’s release. But the testimony from the innkeeper’s wife was very bad luck.”

“Are you a criminal lawyer? Do you have experience?” I looked at Mr. Ota’s suit, a polyester-wool blend that hung limply from his small shoulders. He didn’t give the impression he had won enough cases to afford a decent tailor.

“If Mr. Glendinning goes to trial, he won’t need a lawyer. Just God.” At my blank expression, he said, “Ninety-nine percent of cases that are brought to trial result in conviction.”

I couldn’t let myself think of that possibility. I had to stay calm. I said in my coolest voice, “I guess your role is to stop the indictment?”

“Precisely.” Mr. Ota sounded relieved I was no longer arguing with him. “Even if the decision is made tomorrow to keep him, I’ll have twenty-five days to gather enough evidence to stop the indictment. And Mr. Glendinning has many friends in the legal and business communities who may be able to help. High on our list is Mr. Piers Clancy, an attaché at the British Embassy.”

“You still need me,” I said. “I’ll go back to Shiroyama. Hugh’s Japanese is terrible. If he’s being abused in some way, I could talk to the police—Captain Okuhara knows me.”

“That’s a very bad idea! Mr. Glendinning believes there is some danger of you being charged as an accessory to the crime. You must not appear close in the least.”

I thought about it. Even more damning than my fingerprints was the contact we’d had: drinks at a hotel, dinner in another town, two nights in his room. And we both came from Tokyo where we might have had prior acquaintance. Given the way I’d behaved, anyone would think I would have benefited from Setsuko’s death.

“Why did you come to me, then?”

“My client has made a request.” Mr. Ota unzipped his simulated leather briefcase and withdrew some papers. “The tsuya for Setsuko Nakamura is tomorrow night. Mr. Glendinning asks that you speak to Miss Hikari Yasui, his office lady, about attending it together. He wants you to look for anyone you might recognize from Shiroyama, and to make contact with Setsuko Nakamura’s relatives. Watch closely and tell us later. Because you are so good at finding the hidden truth.”

He’d sent a jab from behind bars that only I’d understand. I didn’t know what a tsuya was, but I had a feeling it had something to do with funerals, and wouldn’t be funny like the movie I’d been watching.