Ellery Queen's Japanese Golden Dozen. Ellery Queen

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СКАЧАТЬ and learned why, in spite of new executive staffs every five years, Usami had not moved from the position of chief of the personnel department. Of others who had entered the company at the same time as Usami, not one person remained. Many had been forced to leave as a consequence of becoming enmeshed in the factions surrounding the executive positions. Throughout all this turmoil, Usami had persisted in being neutral: See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

      Why should someone who tried to remain unbiased and fair in all things fail to advance? A company was a living thing with an elaborate interweaving of subtle emotions. The man who tried to remain in the neutral position in conflicts was disliked by both sides. He was labeled unreliable. He could even be thought a double-dealer or timeserver. Though not forced to leave the company with the followers of the defeated executive team, he was not regarded seriously by the winning group. Because of conditions of this kind, Usami had remained the head of the personnel department. There was nothing to indicate whether Usami adopted this policy of neutrality out of principle or for utilitarian reasons.

      But it was part of his personality, or so it seemed. He had entered Sanei Thermal Engineering at forty-five. For twenty years before that, he had been a white-collar worker for another firm. Thirty years of work in business probably made it a habit to want peace at any price. As simple proof, Kono pointed out to himself Usami's office nickname: the Quiet Man.

      Although slow to speak, Usami had not been narrowminded. This was suggested by his willingness to listen to anybody's complaints, dissatisfactions, secrets. People often carried their griefs to him because they knew they were safe in telling Usami. The Quiet Man would never repeat anything he heard to a third party. Kono was strongly impressed with this aspect during questioning.

      Kenzo Yokomizo said, "I trusted him entirely. He was the closest-mouthed man I've ever known."

      Shinkichi Harada said, "It's not so much that I relied on him. But he'd listen to any complaint no matter what. Often, I met him on the way home, talked, and got what was troubling me off my chest. He was completely good."

      Haruko Nagi remembered him fondly. "Oh, in that sense, you could trust him entirely. Mr. Usami'd never repeat anything you told him."

      But there were others who were critical. For instance, Yuzo Nakanishi said, "Oh, sure, he'd listen to you. But he never suggested anything, or gave advice. He'd just sit and listen. In that sense, you couldn't rely on him. But since most people already have an answer to their problem before they tell anybody about it, they're generally content to have a listening partner. Even if you criticized the top execs, you knew you were safe talking with Usami." Though he made the comment that it was not possible, in a sense, to rely on Usami, he ended by praising him.

      A man to whom everyone told his troubles. A man everybody trusted, because he would not betray them. Is this the kind of man that gets murdered?

      Chief Takahashi decided it. was murder. He did so on the basis of Usami's attitude displayed until he began suffering from the poison. A person intending to kill himself usually reveals excitement of one kind or another. Everybody said Usami had been enjoying drinking. This was not the nature of a suicide. The high opinion held of Usami flustered Takahashi. The investigation team noted this.

      By four that afternoon, all employees of Sanei had returned to their homes.

      In a scholarly tone, but with a certain excitement, Chief Takahashi said, "Usami's family life was peaceful and content. He had no outstanding debts. His hobby was the inexpensive one of gardening. He was liked by his neighbors. In other words, he was a fine member of society about whom nobody had anything bad to say. I know of only one case of murder like this."

      "What's that?" Assistant Inspector Iizuka asked, with a look of disbelief. The other members of the investigation team shared this look.

      "It's in my imagination. Somebody in the company tells Usami an important secret. Later, he thinks, 'I've done it, now. If Usami spills that, it's all up with me.' Then this guy gets the idea of killing Usami. . . ."

      One of the team objected. "But Usami was famous for keeping secrets."

      "Yes. But if the secret was very important, the person who told it might become the victim of terrible doubts," Kono said, thinking that Takahashi had something.

      Another of the team said, "I can't help thinking the police chief's explanation relies too much on imagination."

      There was some substantiation to this objection. Takahashi, disgruntled, said no more. An uncomfortable silence ensued.

      Could it have been suicide? Kono felt this doubt among the members of the group. No one voiced it. They had investigated the case as murder to this point.

      Pressure of duties had made administrative employees kill themselves. Often these suicides paid no attention to their surroundings. During rush hour, they leaped in front of oncoming trains, or hurled themselves from office windows during work hours. Usami might fit this category.

      A veteran detective named Hosobe, asked, "Chief, couldn't it be suicide?" It was a brave gesture under the circumstances. Kono had heard that Takahashi and Hosobe did not get along well.

      Takahashi said clearly, "Right now, I'm not considering suicide. In the first place, there's nothing in Usami's daily life to warrant suicide. In the second place, potassium cyanide looks like a planned killing. There was no suicide note. And, two days before the party, Usami himself bought plane tickets for a business trip to Tokyo."

      "I see." Hosobe seemed convinced for the moment. The investigation was ploughing ahead for murder, and Hosobe lacked sufficient confidence to try to call it to a halt.

      Turning to Kono, Takahashi said, "How d'you make it?"

      "You mean murder or suicide?"

      "Yeah."

      Kono folded his arms. "I think the chief's right. It seems like it's murder. Forgive me for being vague."

      Takahashi asked, "I get the feeling the investigation's bogged down in questioning. What d'you say?"

      "Earlier, you said everybody was prepared for Usami to keep their secrets. Maybe it's related to the heart of the matter. I'm not saying it points directly to a conclusion, but it might be a good notion to examine the issue from the viewpoint of what's happened in the company." Kono glanced around, scowling, then said, "Right now, the idea of self-defense is especially strong in commercial enterprises and their staffs. To give a simple example—a bank where embezzlement's occurred. It's possible to make preparations. Let's say the amount is five million yen. The bank will certainly deal with this within the limits of its own organization and not let word leak to the outside. After all, banks require the customers' trust. If Usami'd heard an important company secret—and if this is the cause from which the crime grew, the investigation. . ." Kono paused. Then he slowly added, "Will be very difficult."

      One of the investigation team had come in and was whispering something to Takahashi. Wrinkling his forehead, Takahashi said, "The lab report says the only clear prints on the glass are Usami's. There are other smears, can't be identified. Another thing, potassium cyanide is used by Sanei. Strictly controlled, but an employee could probably get it if he wanted it bad enough."

      The room was heavy with silence.

      That night, Kono found it difficult to sleep. His mind was busy with the Usami case. His intuition told him it was murder. But he was convinced some secret was concealed behind the matter. He had talked of self-defense in commercial enterprises and their staffs. He'd given a bank as an example. But cases СКАЧАТЬ