A second room with tatami flooring had been designated for mourning and was filled with flashy golden funeral trappings and the spicy scent of a few hundred potted chrysanthemums. More flowers bordered the frame of a large photograph of Setsuko, who surveyed us with her cool half-smile from atop the three-tiered golden altar decorated with bowls of apples and oranges, offerings meant for Buddha.
Contemplating these decorations allowed me to delay approaching the brocade-covered box resting in front of the altar. It was closed, no doubt a necessity due to the gruesome slicing that would have been done in the course of two autopsies.
Hikari and I followed the lead of a woman who went up to the altar and bowed before it, clapping her hands together soundlessly in prayer. It was all over within a minute. I guessed it would be up to her relatives to kneel and pray for hours at the funeral tomorrow. Not many seemed to be in attendance: as Hikari and I traveled back to the living room, she identified almost everyone as Sendai salarymen and their spouses.
“Do you know all of them?” I was awed.
“Almost everyone. Over there is the company president.”
“Masuhiro Sendai?”
“Yes. But it’s best if you don’t introduce yourself. He takes an interest in all his employees.”
All except the ones in disgrace, I thought, looking at the doll-sized man with a thick shock of gray hair. He was conferring in a corner with a large foreigner, which made my hackles rise.
“Who’s the gaijin?”
“He doesn’t work at Sendai.”
The man wore a Brooks Brothers suit and the smug, prosperous air of an expatriate executive in his early sixties. Maybe he was a lawyer, a contender for Hugh’s job.
“Can I get a list of the people who gave kden?” I asked, thinking a foreigner’s name would pop right out.
“Oh, no! That goes straight to Mr. Nakamura.”
“How about a guest list?”
“I doubt it. It is difficult to talk to Mr. Nakamura’s secretary.” Hikari looked unhappy, and I wondered what position she would move to now that Hugh was in prison. “Are you all right being alone for a while? I have some responsibilities.” Hikari gestured to a group of her fellow office ladies clustered in a doorway.
I slipped back into the mourning room, figuring that anyone who really cared about Setsuko would be praying for her.
The attractive woman I had seen earlier at the coffin was back and seemed unable to tear herself away. I lowered my glasses slightly to inspect her. She had the same sleek hair as Setsuko, and she wore a slim-fitting black suit that looked like a Hanae Mori design. A handkerchief was pressed to her eyes. I was mustering the courage to approach her when I heard my name spoken softly in my ear.
“Miss Shimura.” It was Captain Okuhara, this time in a highly official-looking uniform. “I thought you didn’t know Mrs. Nakamura. It’s surprising to find you at her tsuya.”
“I wish I could say the same for you.” Of course he would have spotted me; the question was whether he’d turn me in to Mr. Nakamura. If I could convince him I was on the guest list, maybe he would be thrown off. I ventured, “Mr. Nakamura has been so—reflective—about his wife’s final days, that I got word he wanted us all to come to say good-bye. Have you seen the others?”
“No.” A smile tugged at the corners of the policeman’s mouth. “Actually, he is most interested in having his wife’s killer apprehended.”
“I thought you already had your killer in custody.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“Did Glendinning tell you where he is?” Captain Okuhara demanded.
“I heard it from his lawyer. You know you don’t allow him phone calls.”
“If Glendinning would do some talking instead of leaving it all to his lawyer, things would go better for him. As things stand, I have a feeling he will be with us for a long time.”
I felt hot and cold in the space of a few seconds and had to put my drink down. One of Hikari’s office lady colleagues thrust a napkin in my hand. I passed it over the wet spot I’d made on an antique Tansu chest.
“It’s tough for you, isn’t it?” His voice lowered to a sadistic purr. “Tough to realize that Mrs. Nakamura and your boyfriend did more than shop together. We have sworn testimony from the Yogetsu wife that Glendinning bathed with Mrs. Nakamura on New Year’s Eve. She heard voices raised, voices speaking English.”
“My voice and his.” I met his gaze squarely. “Hugh and I were together. Bathing became our hobby. Ask Mrs. Yogetsu! She caught us the last evening I stayed there.”