The Flower Master (Rei Shimura #3) (29 page)

I returned home realizing that I'd forgotten to show Mr. Ishida the photograph of Takeo's mother. I'd stashed it safely in my apartment, and now I transferred it into the money belt that I'd wear the next day at the flea market. Mr. Ishida had promised to stop by and see me there.

My Saturday afternoon mail had arrived. There was a gas bill that made me sorry I was still using my space heater on chilly days, and something very unexpected: a creamy, square-shaped envelope that bore the Kayama School's address. I opened the envelope and read the message, which was printed in English calligraphy on one side, Japanese on the other.

The iemoto, Masanobu Kayama, requests the pleasure of your company at a cherry blossom viewing party at the Garden of Stones, Sunday, April 7. The favor of a reply is requested by April 5.

April 5 had been the day before. Mrs. Koda could have said something about the party when I was visiting her, but she hadn't. Perhaps she didn't want me to go. I thought of the haiku I'd most recently received, the one that spoke of viewing blossoms dressed in festive apparel above dead bones. Was the writer speaking about the Kayamas' party?

The telephone rang, and to my surprise, Aunt Norie answered my greeting.

"Rei-chan, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to return your call. How are you feeling?"

"Perfectly fine. I'm embarrassed, though, about what happened between us," I apologized.

"No need to speak of it," Norie said briskly. "I called to wish you well and also to see if you have something suitable to wear to the cherry blossom viewing party. It's going to be at the Garden of Stones, the Kayamas' country property."

"You received the invitation today?" I asked, guessing that she also had received an afternoon delivery. "Don't you think it is odd that the party is going to be held tomorrow?"

"Yes, the invitation is very late, but perhaps it's because it's hard to know when the cherry blossoms will be at their best. The Izu Peninsula has a different weather pattern, you know."

"The Izu Peninsula is hours away. Are you sure that it's worth going?"

"Now that Hiroshi's back, he will be happy to drive us. And the Kayamas' residence is really worth seeing."

"I don't think we should attend. Another haiku was slipped under my door, and it seems to refer directly to the party. I think that's a bad sign."

Aunt Norie paused, and I guessed that she was debating whether to ask me what the haiku said. She didn't. Instead she said, "If I don't attend the party, the other women will think I've been thrown out of the school. I won't let that happen."

Shimura pride. It was a damnable thing to have, but I couldn't let her go alone.

"All right," I said.

"Very good. What we need to settle now is what you are going to wear. I can lend you a kimono that is too girlish for me. Do you have a pair of zari that fit your great big feet? And tabi to wear underneath?"

"I have my own kimono . . . and is it a good idea for Uncle Hiroshi to come with us? He might be bored." I was angling for Tom, because I thought he was younger and stronger, better to have nearby in a confrontation.

"Your uncle is looking forward to attending, because he's always missed the party in past years. Tsutomu will be along as well, because I have my eye out to introduce him to some of the other teachers' daughters. I have already left an RSVP that we will be present: Hiroshi, Tsutomu, you, and me. The Shimura family!"

* * *

Once again Norie had conned me into doing something that I didn't want to do. Now I was torn. I wanted to stay in Tokyo and trail Richard to his rendezvous with Stop Killing Flowers, but I had a responsibility to protect my aunt, although it might turn out that my aunt and Richard would both be at the same place—the Garden of Stones.

I pondered the problem while opening up the chest where I stored my vintage kimono. I had more than twenty to consider. I'd chosen the robes for their folk art value instead of fashion purposes. While many exhibited special tie-dye techniques and subtle organic colors, I knew they might not be fancy enough for the Kayamas. I lifted out layers of silk before I narrowed the selection to a few robes in spring-like hues. The party was going to take place at night, so I wanted to make sure the color of the robe I chose was light enough not to get lost in the shadows.

I slid on a pale pink kimono patterned with delicate green leaves and was trying to figure out which obi harmonized best with it when my doorbell rang. I moved the screen covering the window aside. I couldn't see who was standing at the door, but I did see a Range Rover filling up the street.

I didn't want to see Takeo, especially when I was half dressed like a courtesan. I called through the door for him to wait a minute, and I began unfurling the sash that I'd tied around my waist. I buttoned up my shirt all the way and smoothed my hair before opening up.

It wasn't Takeo, but Natsumi.

"Were you sleeping?" She peered at me critically, and I realized then that she'd noticed my pajama bottoms underneath the kimono. Natsumi was wearing a shiny black patent leather coat with matching pants, Gucci stacked-heel loafers on her feet, and a black- and- gold police-style hat on her head. I thought she looked like a storm trooper, or at the very least, a hostess at an S&M- themed parlor.

"No. I was relaxing." I tried to look warmer than I felt. I didn't want to reveal that my sloppy outfit was par for the course, just as I didn't want her to know I was consumed with finding the perfect kimono to wear to her family's party. I wondered if Takeo had sent her in his stead because he was too stressed to see me. Trying to get a feel for the situation, I asked, "Is that your Range Rover in front of my neighbor's driveway? You might get towed."

"It's on loan from the dealership, so who cares? Besides, the car's bigger than most tow trucks, so it would take some effort to move it. When Takeo crashed our car here a few nights ago, the police had to find a special tow truck to remove it."

So, despite Takeo's efforts to keep the accident a secret, she knew. Was that a good or bad thing? I had to find out. I said, "Why don't you come in?"

"Not many women our age have their own apartments," Natsumi answered, stepping out of her shoes that I'd seen at her home. "Do your parents fund you?"

"I earn enough to support myself. And this place isn't that nice."

"Oh, don't talk like that. We Japanese say that kind of thing about our homes all the time—it's so ugly, it's so poor—but this place is really something. You've got a good eye for interior design."

"I'm terrible with flowers," I said, watching her examine the arrangement I'd made from the bittersweet her brother had brought me.

"It takes time to learn ikebana. Look at your aunt and her friends. They're been working at it for almost forty years."

"How long have you studied?" I asked, going into the kitchen and plugging in my small immersion water heater to make tea.

"Since I was sixteen. Takeo started much earlier because he is going to take over the school." Natsumi's patent leather pants creaked as she settled onto one of the low chairs near my gas heater, which was glowing like a little fireplace. "I told them that since I was just going to get married, there wasn't any point in training me. But my father thinks nobody would many a Kayama who couldn't arrange flowers. So now I make arrangements in department stores, which is a lot more fun than hanging around the Kayama Kaikan." Natsumi waved a slender hand with nails painted the color of blood. "No tea, it stains the teeth."

"Oh. I also have water, milk or grapefruit juice."

"Do you have Evian?" When I shook my head, Natsumi said, "Oh, well, I won't take anything then. Can't be too careful."

Even though I'd been the same way about drinking things at Mrs. Koda's, I was pretty irritated that she was hinting I might poison her. It would be rude to drink tea in front of her, so I left my freshly brewed cup of Darjeeling on the counter. I sat down across from her, moving aside the kimono that I'd tried on. The silk cascaded over the floor, a glossy waterfall of pink and mauve.

"Getting ready for a costume party?" Natsumi asked.

"Not exactly. But it's interesting that the Victoria and Albert Museum in London had a major exhibit of old kimono last year. Other cultures seem to value antique Japanese kimono more than we do here."

"Actually, I'm not here to talk to you about fashion," said Natsumi, overlooking the fact that it was she who had commented on the kimono in the first place. "I'm here because I want to warn you, girl to girl, about my brother."

"Oh. What's your warning?" She must have known that I had been in the office with him a few nights earlier. How much could she have heard through a closed door, though? Or had her twin told her?

"I worry that your feelings might get hurt. He might play around with you, but it would never come to anything serious."

I felt my face becoming warm. "Don't worry about me."

"Oh, I understand the appeal. He's single, rich, and the right age, while you're not getting any younger." Natsumi's sneering face, underneath the military-style hat, reminded me of the meanest police chief I'd encountered in Japan. But I hadn't broken a law. She had no right to insult me.

"I'm the same age as you and Takeo. I consider both of us equally marriageable, and let me assure you, I have no designs on your brother." It was true. He had come after me, not the other way around.

"How dare you lie to me like that?" Natsumi's voice rose.

"Takeo is your brother, not a husband," I said. "He's not cheating on you if he spends time talking to other women. He doesn't love you any less."

"What do you know about love or family? You don't even live with your parents, probably because they threw you out! Yes, you and your aunt obviously share the same blood type." Natsumi sat bolt upright in her chair, glaring at me.

"My aunt wasn't thrown out of her home," I said. "And I must tell you that while I don't know whether Norie is type O, we are not genetically related. Her husband is the brother of my father."

"A Japanese father doesn't make you Japanese. You would never be accepted by my father, which means that Takeo will never marry you."

I did some deep breathing. "You're the only one who has marriage on her mind. I have better things to think about."

"Well, get back to your career, then. Stop pretending to study flower arranging. And you're right, you're really bad at it! Some people have the knack; others don't. As for you, there's no hope, even if you studied every day."

While Natsumi went on spitting venom, I listened with one ear to the commotion in the street outside. I went to the window, casually shifting the shoji to look out. I slid it closed again and came back to Natsumi.

"Are you sure you don't want some tea? Your throat must be sore."

"No, I'm sure you'd poison it! You obviously know just the way to do it since you made yourself sick so easily at the Mitsutan exhibit. It might have fooled Koda-san and my brother, but not me!" Natsumi jumped up from the chair, knocking her leg against the gas heater. She swore, and I smelled something acrid.

"Are you okay? I don't want you to go up in flames," I cautioned.

"I'm melting!" Natsumi screamed, and shook her patent-leather-covered leg in distress. I made certain that there was no flame before I let my laughter release.

"You're just too hot, Natsumi-san!"

She threw me an evil look and stormed out, squeezing her feet into the tight loafers as she slammed the door behind her. I slid the shoji aside to look out the window as Mr. Waka's brother's tow truck began hauling away the Range Rover. As the tow truck lumbered along, dragging the mammoth vehicle, Natsumi screamed. The truck kept going and Natsumi limped behind in her high-heeled shoes, flinging out obscenities that I would not have expected from a flower heiress's mouth.

* * *

"My brother took that truck to his parking lot. That nasty little princess will have to pay forty thousand yen to get behind the wheel again," Mr. Waka said when I walked into the Family Mart an hour later.

"How did you know it was Natsumi Kayama who visited me?"

"She stopped to buy some cigarettes and asked about your address. She had the building number but didn't know the streets."

"So you sent your brother and his tow truck after her?"

"Well…I gave her an earnest caution, mentioning that a vehicle of that very size and make had been recently involved in an accident. I told her that there would not be space to park a Range Rover on your street, and she called me a meddling little man! So I made a phone call to Yuji, and, well—" He giggled merrily. "The Yanaka Neighborhood Improvement Society has no tolerance for illegally parked vehicles. Fate followed its course."

"I just hope she doesn't come back to haunt us."

"Yes, that young lady is trouble." He broke off when a middle-aged male customer came up to the counter and asked for a cup of oden, the murky, ever-simmering fish stew that was the Family Mart's signature dish. Mr. Waka ladled out a serving and rang it up with a smile and a comment about how nicely the customer's son had behaved when he came in the previous day. After the man's departure, the door chimed, and Mr. Waka resumed our conversation.

"Natsumi Kayama could have killed Sakura Sato. She was at the school the same evening it happened, and furthermore, she was at the exhibition when you were poisoned."

"I don't remember telling you about the poisoning."

"Your aunt told me when she came to buy eggs. She mentioned it when she told me that she needed the freshest food possible to restore your health."

"Don't tell anyone else about my poisoning," I said.

"Why? If you meet with foul play, this will be important evidence. I refuse to let a murderer get away with such a crime!"

"The police know everything already. I'd rather you didn't mention it to anyone because that would only further scandalize the Kayamas."

"And since when have you cared about them?" Mr. Waka exclaimed.

"I don't." I shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that the school has enough trouble with a murder at their headquarters and an environmental group trying to shut them down."