I thought that was unlikely since the young women worked for her and shared a quasi-mother-daughter relationship. I explained my doubts.
“If Keiko attacked Esmerelda while calling her by another woman’s name, it would make her seem like an outsider who didn’t know the bar,’ Hugh suggested.
“That’s too convoluted.” Hugh’s comment had triggered a memory of my visit to JaBank, when Mariko had told me a young woman teller had been attacked by an unknown person. Three attacks at the two locales where Mariko worked; it seemed likely someone was looking for her. But why? “Maybe Keiko eliminated Setsuko and is trying to kill Mariko so she can make a claim on the American’s estate,” I said.
“Why would she want to kill them now as opposed to decades earlier? Where does my laptop battery come in?”
“Your battery’s not important. But Keiko—I could tell from the way she was looking at old photographs of Setsuko, she was moved. No matter how many names she calls Setsuko, she still cares about her.”
“Emotion runs high in family situations. Perhaps the sister who had to scrabble for a living envied the one who landed the salaryman and life in the suburbs. One day, it got to be too much.”
“Why did Mr. Nakamura come to her bar twice? I didn’t ask Keiko. I should have.” I was in north Tokyo now, sailing through dark and lonely streets. In no time, I was in front of my apartment building.
Hugh reached back to shake Richard’s shoulder. “Time to get up, laddie.”
“What about Rei?” Richard mumbled.
“She’s driving me home,” Hugh said as if I’d already agreed.
“Do you have your key?” I worried. My roommate waved it at me and ambled sleepily toward the building.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I promised Hugh and jumped out, feeling strangely maternal toward my roommate.
The entry hall was dark. The cheapskate landlord had installed a light rigged on a timer, meaning that when we came in, we had only three minutes of illumination while traveling upstairs.
“Out like a light,” Richard cackled, fumbling at the switch. I reached over him and clicked up and down a few times without success. The bulb must have burned out. There were only two other tenants in the building, and unfortunately neither of them had taken the initiative to replace the bulb. As always, I would do it the next morning.
I knew by heart the steps leading to the apartment and would have bounded upward were it not for the listless roommate I was helping along. It took forever to reach the last flight leading to our landing. Richard was giggling about the fact I was holding his hand.
Only five more steps to go. I resolutely put my foot forward and stepped into air.
I grabbed Richard tightly with one arm, and with the other sought the railing. I had no idea of what had happened to the staircase. I searched again and found that the step I’d been heading for had been knocked out. There was nothing above it either. I stretched out my hand and touched the rough, splintering edges around where the wooden stairs had been.
“Whassit, Rei? Hurry up, I’ve got to take a leak.”
“Richard, the stairs are gone!”
The light bulb could not have died a natural death, just as the missing steps hadn’t broken with age. The person who had done the damage had selected the stairs leading to where Richard and I lived. It would have been easy to do the job between the time we had left for the club and the other building residents hadn’t yet returned from work.
The trap had been laid for me. I had been meant to fall. Even if I made it past the monstrous gap, I didn’t know what was waiting on the landing. Another hole, or maybe the person who had chopped out the stairs.
“We’re going downstairs,” I whispered to Richard. “Let me lead.”
We made it out faster than we’d gone up. As Richard stumbled to the curb and relieved himself in the moonlight, I told Hugh about the stairs.
“I’m going back in with a torch,” he said immediately, pulling a flashlight out of the glove compartment.
“You’re too weak! I practically had to carry you upstairs earlier this evening. And it’s very dangerous.”
“What’s the alternative, then? The police?”
“I don’t want them.” The police would ask about our day’s activities, and if they entered the apartment to look around, they’d notice Setsuko Nakamura’s photo album lying prominently on the kotatsu table.
“What can we do with him?” Hugh gestured toward Richard, who had zipped himself up and was weaving toward us singing “It’s a Shame About Ray.”
“He can sleep at Simone’s,” I said, thinking fast. Two of her roommates were still on vacation in France, so there would be space for him on a futon. I called Simone on the car phone and she agreed, urging me to join them. I declined; I had other plans for myself.