The Mystery Clock

“Regarding the coffee,” Kumakura mentioned, his voice strained. His face was covered in sticky perspiration and his short, thin hair was standing on end within a short period of time. “I think we have been too wrapped up in speculating about who the culprit is that we have neglected to ascertain the basic facts. Who brewed that in the first place?”

“Is that important?” asked Motojima.

“Isn’t it crucial to establish when the poison was mixed in? Besides, if the culprit delivered the coffee to Reiko, we would have some clues as to their identity.”

Tokizane nodded.

“Yamanaka. Who made the coffee?”

Yamanaka Ayaka, who had been stiff in the corner of the dining room, lifted her head when she was suddenly addressed to.

“T-That… I-I, about that.”

Tokizane’s voice softened as Ayaka looked to be on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay. It’s not that I’m doubting you. As I recall, the dinner party ended at exactly 8:00 p.m. After that, I would like to know what have you been up to in proper sequence?”

“I-I was washing dishes.”

Although her voice was still quivering, she seemed to be gradually regaining her composure.

“For how long have you done that?”

“About… 30 or 40 minutes.”

“But don’t you have a dishwasher? Why did it take you so long?”

Ayaka cowered again as Kumakura interrogated her.

“There are a lot of dishes that can’t be put in the dishwasher. Didn’t you notice that when you were enjoying your meal?” Natsumi answered in an uncharacteristically strong tone of voice. “Silverware, Ginori plates, and even lacquerware all have to be meticulously washed by hand. Even though the dishwasher was a bit of help, it still required that much time. Afterwards, even simply wiping the dishes clean and returning them to the cupboard took about 20 minutes.”

Kumakura glared back at Natsumi.

“I’m just confirming the facts one by one.”

Tokizane waved the muzzle of his gun in Kumakura’s direction as if to demand that he shut up.

“Reiko left the hall to go to her study for finishing her work. It was around 8:41 p.m. Did she stop by the kitchen at that time?”

“Ah, yes.”

Ayaka’s voice finally regained its vitality.

“She was brewing coffee by herself. I offered to do it, but she said she would make it herself because I was occupied with cleaning up the dishes.”

“Then what happened next?”

“I went back to my room after finishing the dishes and cleaning up.”

“Where is your room?” Motojima asked.

“Um, it’s at the end of the first floor…”

“After entering through the main entrance, the rest room is on the right, the elevator is next to it, and Yamanaka’s room is at the far end.”

Natsumi took over explaining.

“Though it’s for a brief stay like this evening, it was initially a closet, not for living quarters.”

Apparently, she felt guilty that she was staying in a small room.

“Have you been outside since you went back to your room?”

Tokizane continued to press Ayaka with questions.

“No. I spent the entire time in my room reading a magazine. I wondered what was going on when I heard Natsumi scream, but then I heard everyone’s footsteps running upstairs and I followed suit. I never would have expected this to happen…”

Ayaka’s voice was choked up.

“So? What did you understand from what she just said?” Kawai said sarcastically to Kumakura.

“I think a very pertinent point has become clear.” 

Kumakura jutted his chin in a combative manner.

“This means that Reiko brewed the coffee herself and brought it up there. To put it another way, the poisoning’s timing is quite restricted. The only possibility is that someone visited the study, and while conversing with Reiko, they found an opportunity and slipped the poison into the coffee.”

“It sounds like you are suspecting me after all. Didn’t we already come to the conclusion that there’s an unreasonable approach?”

Kawai was expressing his deep-seated resentment towards Kumakura.

“I don’t think any conclusion was drawn, though? It was only put on hold temporarily.”

Kumakura bared his lower jaw teeth. His sleepy, mole-like appearance seemed to have morphed into that of a bulldog.

“Besides, if there’s a way to poison coffee outside of the study, I’d like to be taught the trick.”

Hikijii responded, “For instance, what about the possibility that the coffee beans were pre-packaged? I think we can’t rule it out.”

“…But if that were the case, there would be aconitine in the leftover beans and coffee grounds. What would anyone do with the coffee grounds after brewing them?”

“It should be in the trash,” Ayaka replied in a small voice.

“If that is the truth, the police will easily discover the poison when they analyze it. Even so, I don’t think the murderer would have used a method that would leave such evidence,” Tokizane remarked thoughtfully.

From the beginning, there was a fundamental contradiction in what Tokizane was saying. Junko finally realized it. While Tokizane claimed that he would leave the cause of Mori Reiko’s death, the contents of the computer, and the analysis of the coffee grounds to the police, it was a stretch to identify the murderer and execute the person who did it before that.

After all, Tokizane’s threat must be a ruse to exert pressure on the murderer. Assuming this to be the case, there would be practically no chance that she would be mistaken for the murderer and shot to death.

In all likelihood, he must be bluffing. No, no, no, please let it be a bluff, Junko prayed. Right now, her safety was more of a priority than catching the culprit.

“I know I interrupted you with unnecessary questions, but there’s more to what I wanted to say,” Kumakura said insistently.

“Indeed, there is a high possibility that the culprit spiked the coffee with aconitine in the study. However, there is one more obstacle to overcome.”

“What do you mean?” Tokizane asked in wonderment.

“Aconitine is insoluble in water.”

Kumakura observed the faces of the group with narrowed eyes.

“So it’s not enough to simply put the powder in a cup when you see an opening. It won’t dissolve as easily as sugar.”

“Then, how do you make it dissolve?”

Tokizane’s eyes grew stern.

“You would have to dissolve the aconitine in another solvent, perhaps oil, before adding it to the mixture.”

“Even so, oil would not dissolve in water, right?” 

When Motojima asked, Kumakura revealed a sly smile.

“Coffee is a kind of colloidal solution. It is like milk because of the oil particles floating in the aqueous solution. In fact, I’ve heard that coffee actually has a soap-like surfactant in it.”

“But if you put oil in coffee, wouldn’t people be aware of it?” Kawai refuted this.

“It is true that if you look closely at the surface of coffee, you may spot fine droplets of oil floating on the surface. But if it becomes oily like butter coffee, my aunt would have been suspicious.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? There’s a limit to how obtuse you can be.”

Kumakura had already demonstrated his disdain for Kawai. It seemed to be a complex intertwining of the pride of a medical school graduate who excelled in entrance examinations and a complex about a young man with a refined appearance.

“What is it? You, just what exactly do you hold against me since earlier!”

Kawai was about to confront Kumakura.

“I got it!”

Junko inadvertently shouted out at this juncture. Kawai too ceased his movement and gazed at her, as if startled.

“There is oil that is not unnatural to dissolve in coffee! Yes, that’s right.”

“Right. Since long ago, it has been used in coffee.”

Enomoto spoke up. Even though she had just conceived of the idea, she couldn’t let him say it before she did.

“Yes, coffee essential oil! That’s the only way.”

“Eh?”

Enomoto froze with his mouth hanging open.

“You would use it in aromatherapy, wouldn’t you? Essential oil extracted from coffee beans!  It should go well with coffee, and since it has the same aroma, it wouldn’t raise any suspicions.”

“But I was taught that you must never ingest essential oils, not limited to coffee.”

Natsumi pointed out in a reserved manner.

“What are you talking about? A murderer who is planning to poison people shouldn’t pay attention to such a thing now, right?” 

Junko dismissed her with a self-confident snicker.

“Well, but that doesn’t seem right,” Kawai said, sounding puzzled.

“No matter how much it is derived from coffee, I don’t think it will dissolve if you add essential oil or something like that. It would only create a thick film of oil on the surface of the coffee.”

“Furthermore, even though it may be identical to coffee, the aroma will suddenly increase to an extremely high degree, so I believe everything will be immediately apparent.”

Enomoto also raised an objection.

“It will likely taste so bitter that it will be undrinkable.”

Even Kumakura, who had been in opposition to Kawai, voiced his disapproval.

“The essential oil is very stimulating, and once you put it in your mouth, I’m sure you’ll spit it out.”

Natsumi finally abandoned her reservations and landed the final blow.

“I’m just eliminating the possibilities one by oneー”

Junko lied nonchalantly. Before she realized it, she had become accustomed to being under siege and was terrified of her own ability to cope with the situation in a normal mode.

“In that case, Enomoto. Of course, there is only one way left, isn’t it?”

In order to dodge any further questioning, she threw the conversation back in his face. Enomoto let out a cough.

“Yes. Generally speaking, the only oily substances that are acceptable to put in coffee are milk or cream.”

Kumakura nodded.

“That’s what I wanted to point out. Aconitine has a numbing sensation on the tongue, but the cream will soften that too. Seriously, each and every one of you is constantly interrupting me with your stupidity.”

Junko was not pleased to be called “stupid”.

“The coffee stain on the carpet looked like the color of milk or cream…” Tokizane mumbled with his eyes closed.

“Let’s take another look at the crime scene, shall we?” Enomoto suggested.

“I’m sure there are some details we overlooked earlier, and I’d like to go over some of them.”

“No, everyone please stay where you are.”

Tokizane was unmoved.

“I am becoming more and more convinced that there is a murderer in this room. I cannot allow you near the crime scene for fear of destroying evidence.”

“However, that will make it even more difficult to find out who the murderer is.”

Motojima looked at Tokizane’s gun while expostulating it.

“That won’t be a problem. My eyes are like cameras, so I can record everything that exists in the field.”

Tokizane pointed to his head. Apparently, he was very confident in his recollection capabilities.

“Then, were there any containers of cream at the scene?” 

Enomoto asked, to which Tokizane promptly replied.

“Yes, there was. An empty plastic container was lying under the desk.”

Junko was taken aback. She had not noticed anything like that at all. It seemed that this camera eye claim of his was not a lie.

Enomoto said, “It’s a portion pack, which means it might be creamer, not cream.”

“Isn’t that the stuff they serve at coffee shops? Is it different from milk?”

“In Tokyo, it is called milk, but I use the Kansai term, creamer, to clearly distinguish it.”

Enomoto seemed to have a particular preference, but what was the difference?

“Can you dissolve aconitine in that creamer?”

“Creamer looks like milk or cream, but it is actually a white emulsion of salad oil-like fat and water with emulsifiers. Therefore, it is ideal for dissolving aconitine.”

Junko was unaware of this. That she had been drinking coffee with salad oil with additives in it.

“I see. That is very intriguing. The portion pack may be significant.”

For some reason, Hikijii seemed to have grown very lively.

“If Mori was prepared to commit suicide, wouldn’t it be unnatural to dissolve the aconitine in creamer before adding it? Even if it is not completely dissolved in the coffee and is a little rough, she could have just swallowed it as it was.”

“I see. That means that if we test the portion pack of creamer and detect aconitine, then the suspicion of homicide will be heightened.”

Motojima seemed to be reassessing Hikijii.

“But if I were the culprit, I would have clean portion pack by hand. The one laced with aconitine can be disposed of in a very short time.”

Indeed, the small plastic containers can be washed, shredded, flushed down the toilet, etc. Ultimately, it was not a conclusive answer.

“Did Mori ever put cream in her coffee?” 

Enomoto’s question caused Natsumi to ponder.

“I don’t think so. The color of the coffee that she drink was mostly black, but sometimes when she had a stomach ache, she would put cream or milk in.”

“What about creamer?”

“Well, I don’t think we have them.”

“I suppose the truth is beginning to emerge, even if it’s only gradually,” Kumakura said in a persistent tone.

“Reiko made herself a cup of black coffee and went into the study. The culprit later visited her with a poisoned coffee mixed with creamer. The culprit then told Reiko that all that black coffee would upset her stomach or some such nonsense. And then they brazenly slipped the poison into the coffee and offered it to Reiko…”

Kumakura’s narrow eyes, glistening with suspicion, swept over everyone. Junko was creeped out.

“If that’s the case, what conclusions can you draw from that?” Motojima inquired, his voice quivering.

“The culprit is someone who is close to Reiko. In other words, it isn’t Enomoto, Aoto, or Hikijii. Yamanaka is probably not the murderer either. Once the perfect alibi is proven, Tokizane can be ruled out as well. That leaves me, Kawai, Motojima, and Natsumi as the four suspects.”

“If you’re listed as a suspect, does that mean you’re confessing to the crime?” Kawai sarcastically asked.

“I lack a motive.”

Kawai became agitated and shouted again, “I don’t have a motive either!”

“I don’t have one either,” Motojima said.

“I would never kill Mori too…”

Even Natsumi interjected as if she was frightened of being accused of murder if she didn’t thoroughly counter the accusation.

“But don’t you have a clear motive? Tokizane testified that you had frequently asked for a loan from Reiko. Furthermore, you will be left with a substantial inheritance.”

Kumakura’s eyes were locked on Kawai.

“I see. While feigning to have given up at one point, you have locked on to me the whole time. I’m amazed by your persistence.”

Kawai fired back in a low voice. Although he was still very theatrical, unlike in the earlier exchanges, Kawai had the presence of a skilled actor.

“And with your willingness to go to such lengths to entrap me, I’m convinced that you’re the culprit.” 

“Oh, come on. What in the world are you taking? Stop with this kind of kindergartener’s logic, ‘You’re the murderer since you accuse me of being the murderer’.”

Kumakura sneered with a spiteful look on his face. Junko can totally understand why Mori Reiko divorced him.

“No, Kumakura. I’d like to cast my vote for you as the culprit, too.”

Out of nowhere, Hikijii bared his fangs. Kawai’s face lit up with delight.

“What do you mean? Based on what?”

At the unexpected response, Kumakura displayed a puzzled expression.

“You’ve overdone it.”

Hikijii’s voice sounded like a rasp.

“It’s a pattern of a criminal destroying themselves by trying to pin the blame on someone else. In my best-known novel, ‘The Man Who Overdid It,’ I wrote…”

“I don’t care about your novels, which no one in Japan has read!” Kumakura growled like a wounded animal. “I’m asking you to produce evidence that I’m the murderer!”

“Then, I shall do that,” Hikijii said calmly. “It’s an alkaloid-based deadly poison. It’s found in aconite.”

“What are you talking about?”

Kumakura’s face turned confused.

“‘Aconitine is insoluble in water’.”

“Like I said, what are you talking about?”

“Aconitine causes a numbing sensation on the tongue, but this can be alleviated with the cream.”

Kumakura was absolutely flabbergasted.

“‘Aconite contains not only aconitine, but also other poisonous alkaloids such as mesaconitine, hypaconitine, and jessaconitine,” was what you said. Does an internist need to know so much about poisons? I think you know far too much about it.”

Hikijii cut him off as if to verify the effectiveness of his speech.

“What’s wrong? Answer Hikijii’s question!”

Kawai was on Hikijii’s back, barking at him in an unsightly manner. Kumakura pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

“…When I was married to Reiko, I once tried to write a mystery novel.”

“What? Are you trying to claim that you just happened to be researching aconitine at the time?” 

“Yes. More specifically, I was the one who taught Reiko about aconitine for the first time following the aconite incident.”

There was a period of silence. Although it was a dubious excuse, Hikijii did not seem to have anything more to pursue Kumakura once he admitted this much.

“Besides, as I mentioned earlier, I have no motive whatsoever to kill Reiko.”

Kumakura further solidified his defense.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Kawai’s irritation was still lingering.

“You are my aunt’s ex-husband, you know. It’s not unreasonable for you to harbor complicated feelings.”

“What kind of complicated feelings would lead me to suggest the idea of killing her?” 

Kumakura repelled the accusation with a margin of safety. Just as it seemed as if he was going to corner Kawai once again, the tables were shifted.

“By the way, Hikijii. Don’t you have a motive?”

Hikijii tilted his head.

“Hey. What do you mean? Moreover, you said earlier that the culprit was someone close to Mori. That should not apply to me.”

“I retract my words. I was only visualizing the murder scene and assuming it was perpetrated by someone close to Reiko. I didn’t rule them out explicitly like Tokizane who has an alibi.”

“I see. Then what’s my motive?”

“It was about 20 years ago. You were once nominated for a Society of Mystery Writers Award in the short story category, wasn’t that right?”

“Yes, it did happen. It was a one-time opportunity, but unfortunately, it did not come to fruition due to a blind selection committee. ‘Dimly Murderous Intent’ is a sequel to my genuine masterpiece, ‘The Olympus Murders’ but with a completely new concept…”

“I remember it well from a copy of the magazine that was sent to my house. Reiko was supposed to be a member of the selection committee.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Hikijii looked blank.

“As would be expected, I don’t really recollect what kind of evaluation Reiko gave to your work. However, I can roughly imagine what she likes and what your character is like. Wasn’t your book criticized to the hilt? You had your mystery writer’s path shattered, to the degree that you decided one day you were going to kill her.”

“I don’t remember it. None of them.”

Hikijii was racking his brain, but he didn’t seem to be acting.

“…But if that’s my motive, then I’d have to kill nearly half of my peers and almost all of the reviewers who left a bad comment. Your complicated feelings and all that is more convincing.”

Hikijii suddenly glared at Kumakura piercingly.

“Besides, you know. I’m the kind of person who can’t move around without a wheelchair. How in the world am I supposed to get to the second floor?”

“There is an elevator.”

“Stupid… Wouldn’t that make a sound? Am I wrong?”

Hikijii was apparently caught off guard, but he looked around as if seeking help.

“Indeed, that elevator produces quite a loud noise. If it had moved, someone would have noticed.”

Tokizane offered a helping hand.

“Um, I…”

Yamanaka Ayaka said timidly, “The room is right next to the elevator. If it moves, I will definitely notice. The only time I heard any noise was when everyone went upstairs.”

“Now, you get it? Idiot,” Hikijii triumphantly remarked. “You are quite vindictive, aren’t you? Whenever you feel like you are being attacked, you can’t help but retaliate. Perhaps that’s a motive. What do you think?”

“You have not yet been proven innocent.”

Kumakura would not back down.

“You can actually walk, right? The hall was dark. It would have been impossible for you to reach the corner of a room in a wheelchair and then gently get up and leave.”

He thought Hikijii was going to get pissed off, but then he burst out laughing.

“Hahaha…! What a hilarious story! It’s a fifth-rate mystery! Not even a two-hour drama would do that nowadays.”

“Can you prove that you can’t walk?”

“Of course I can. I have severe spinal canal stenosis. As a doctor yourself, you know what I’m talking about. It should be possible to make an objective diagnosis with X-rays, MRI, and myelography.”

Kumakura became quiet in frustration and then opened his mouth again.

“Hikijii. I have been holding fundamental doubts about you.”

“Yes? Are you asking why is it that a writer of my caliber isn’t in the limelight?”

“No! Why are you here?”

This made everybody nod their heads in agreement.

“You are a forgotten writer. To be more accurate, you have never been rememberable, right? I thought you might be very close to Reiko or Tokizane, but that did not seem to be the case. On top of that, your personality sucks, and you are the worst kind of person to be invited to the dinner party. What is your reason for being invited here tonight?”

“Actually, I have been wondering about that myself. You should be asking the person who invited me here rather than myself.”

Hikijii interrupted him.

“Tokizane. Why did you invite this person tonight?”

When Kumakura asked, Tokimitsu raised a shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t have a clue. It was Reiko’s request.”

The discussion was going in circles, no matter how far they went, and they would always end up at an impasse.

Junko looked at the grandfather clock. It was almost 20 minutes past ten. The clock would change from 10:19 to 10:20.

It had been 14 minutes from the time she had looked at the clock earlier, and 30 minutes had passed since the hunt for the murderer had begun.

While wondering how long this hell was going to last, things have already turned around. A feeling of impatience began to develop in her.

“Motojima. As everyone knows, you were once rumored to be involved in an affair with Reiko.”

This time, Kumakura seemed to have his sights set on Motojima. A heated exchange of abuse also ensued. It was as if everyone was seeking for a scapegoat to save their own skin, and with the eyes of a hawk and the eyes of a cormorant, they were searching for the truth about others.

Even though Junko was becoming sick of it, she was beginning to notice that something was off. They’ll never find the true criminal if they keep doing this. Junko was far from alone in these feelings. At last, Kawai shouted at Tokizane.

“What is this? Is this an act of people enjoying watching each other undermine and sink to their deaths? Isn’t this just like a werewolf game? Does any of this even have any meaning?”

As expected of an actor, he was able to deliver the line that almost made people bite their tongues.

“It does have a meaning. As long as we can figure out who the werewolf is.”

Tokizane appeared unconcerned as he coldly observed everyone’s behavior.