Salvation of a Saint by Keigo Higashino Read Free Book Online Page B

here at any moment,’ Kusanagi said, and told him about the phone call in the car.
    Long wrinkles formed in the space between Mamiya’s eyebrows. He nodded. ‘Sounds like an opportunity, then. You can ask her when she drank that coffee. And get specifics. None of this “Oh, the other day” stuff.’
    ‘On it,’ Kusanagi said.
    The four fell silent at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
    ‘Thanks for waiting,’ Ayane said as she reached the living room. She was wearing a light blue shirt over black trousers. She didn’t look quite as pale as she had on the way from the airport, though that may have been due to a little make-up retouch.
    ‘If you’re sure you’re not too tired, we’d like to ask a few more questions,’ Mamiya said.
    ‘Certainly. What else can I help you with?’
    ‘Please, take a seat.’ The chief waved in the direction of the sofa.
    Ayane sat down, her gaze wandering to the garden beyond the sliding glass doors.
    ‘Look at them, all wilted,’ she said. ‘I asked my husband to water them, but he was never that interested in flowers. I should have known.’
    Kusanagi joined her in looking at the garden. Flowers of various colours were blooming in pots and long planters.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Ayane said, half standing from the sofa. ‘Could I water them? I don’t think I’ll be able to focus otherwise.’
    Mamiya looked taken aback for a brief moment, then smiled. ‘Of course. We’re not in any hurry here.’
    She rose and went not over to the glass doors, but into the kitchen. Kusanagi glanced in after her and saw that she was filling a large bucket with water from the tap.
    ‘No hose in the garden?’ he asked.
    Ayane looked around and smiled. ‘This is for the flowers on the balcony,’ she said. ‘There’s no sink on the second floor.’
    ‘Oh, right.’ Kusanagi recalled how, the day before, he had seen Utsumi looking up at the potted plants on the second-floor balcony.
    Full of water, the bucket looked rather heavy. Kusanagi offered to carry it.
    ‘It’s all right, I can manage.’
    ‘No, really, allow me,’ the detective insisted. ‘Up the stairs here, right?’
    ‘Thank you,’ Ayane said in a voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.
    The master bedroom wasn’t quite as big as the living room downstairs, but it was still large. A wide patchwork tapestry hung over the bed. Kusanagi found his eyes drawn to the vivid bands of colour.
    ‘This one of yours?’
    ‘From a while back, yes.’
    ‘It’s really impressive. It’s probably just my own ignorance, but when I heard “patchwork” I was picturing something simple, like embroidery. But this, this is fine art.’
    ‘I like to think of it as a practical art. Patchwork is about making things that are of use in our daily lives. And why not make everyday items look beautiful?’
    ‘You have quite a talent. I can only imagine how much work it is.’
    ‘It does take a lot of time, and a certain amount of persistence. But it’s fun, making them. In fact, if you don’t have fun doing it, you wind up with something that isn’t fun to look at.’
    Kusanagi nodded, looking back at the wall hanging. Though at a glance it looked like the colours that made up the patchwork had been chosen on a whim, he imagined he could see the mind of the quilter at play in the curves and arrangement of the pieces, and it brought a smile to his face.
    The balcony ran the length of one side of the room and was fairly wide, though the tightly packed planters made it difficult for even one person to navigate.
    Ayane picked up an empty aluminium can from the corner. ‘Isn’t this neat?’ she said, holding it out to Kusanagi where he waited by the sliding glass door.
    Several small holes had been opened in the bottom of the can. She used it to scoop water out of the bucket, then held the can over the planters, letting the water trickle from the holes like a shower.
    ‘Ha! A homemade watering can.’
    ‘Exactly. It would be hard to get