dabbed his forehead with the towel.
"I would have thought that would be obvious," he said at the conclusion of the dabbing.
"Really?" said Kawamura. "They,seem to have been friends for a long time. Most of their lives. They certainly played a lot of tennis together."
Morimoto ordered another drink from a passing waitress, Kawamura asked for coffee.
"No one else would play tennis with Sakai. He is... a difficult man."
"Really?"
"He was an early member of the club," explained Morimoto. "I'm not certain he would pass the entrance interview today. He does not represent the type of 'international member' we strive for currently."
"But he played tennis with Manabe-san, he was... an international character, and Manabe's wife was American."
"Sakai hates Americans," said Morimoto, "and as I said, no one else would play with him."
The waitress delivered a tall glass of iced juice for Morimoto and a cup of coffee for Kawamura.
"What about the staff here?" asked Kawamura after the waitress had left. "Were there indications that Manabe-san may have... tried to be too friendly with the staff? The female staff, that is?
Morimoto gave an unambassadorial snort.
"That kind of thing is unthinkable."
"Do women ever go into the men's locker room?" asked Kawamura.
"Women? In the men's locker room? Never. Why?
"We found a cigarette butt in an ashtray in the men's toilet next to bath. There was lipstick on the butt."
"That's impossible," said Morimoto. "Women can't go in the men's locker room. And anyway, smoking is prohibited up there."
"We can't argue with physical evidence," Kawamura remarked. "But I can't imagine a woman being strong enough to do... what was done to Manabe-san."
Outside on court number one, a solidly built young lady slowly tossed a ball into the air, then delivered a serve with sufficient force to have split Shig Manabe down to his socks.
"What was Manabe-san's relationship with a man named Kimura?" Kawamura asked. "He was in the locker room yesterday, and one of the staff told us that he and Manabe once had knockdown, roll-around fight out on the courts."
"Which member of the staff told you that?" asked Morimoto quickly.
Kawamura took a sip of his coffee.
"I'm not sure that's important," he answered. "What was their relationship?"
"This is a private club, and our staff shouldn't be..."
"I appreciate all that," said Kawamura, "but a murder occurred in this private club. What was their relationship?"
"Kimura used to work for Manabe. That was years ago. Kimura used to travel back and forth to the States from Japan. After a while, they had some... disagreement about the business. That was all."
"A fight? And then not even playing next to each other for fifteen years?"
"Memories, particularly in love and business, are long," replied the Tokyo Lawn Tennis Club president.
"Long enough to commit murder?"
"Ridiculous," said Morimoto. "Murder would have occurred at the time of the fight, not now. What did Kimura say when you spoke to him?"
"He said Manabe was the nicest guy in the world."
"See? That proves it."
Kawamura wasn't sure what it proved. Morimoto was looking over his shoulder at three men who were standing by the glass doors obviously waiting to go out and play.
"I'm afraid I must excuse myself," said Morimoto.
"I understand that, sir, but I would like to ask you about Manabe-san's relationship with a man named Bitman."
'Theodore Bitman? He's not Japanese."
"I understand that, but..."
"Non-Japanese tend to come and go regularly," said Morimoto.
"Bitman has been in Japan since 1963."
"Then I suggest you speak to him directly," said Morimoto rising from his chair and joining his friends for another game.
CHAPTER 10
Kawamura and Suzuki-san stood looking down at the bath. Everything had been cleaned and there were no traces of the horror of the previous day. People came and went from the locker room, and the showers were frequently used, but no one had deemed it proper to use the bath.
"I can't help but think we're just roaming around aimlessly," said Suzuki-san.
"You're probably right. Did you find out anything new?"
"Not really," replied Suzuki-san. "But I confirmed that Manabe had a... very strong taste for female company. Not just for the waitresses. Also for some of the wives of the members."
"Hmm," observed Kawamura. "Any names?"
"Not yet. The staff, of course, notices all of that. But they are... slow to say anything."
"I can imagine that. Morimoto doesn't like the idea of the staff talking to outsiders."
Kawamura and Suzuki walked to the entrance of the men's locker room. Women reaching the top of the circular stairway would turn right to the women's locker room, men would turn left. It was possible to imagine a woman entering the men's locker room and quickly ducking to the left into the toilet area, but it would depend on whether or not anyone from the rows of lockers happened to be looking in that direction. Getting from the toilet area into the bath, however, would involve a dash through open space. Unless the locker room was deserted, that would be impossible.
"Are we certain that there was lipstick on that cigarette butt?" asked Kawamura.
"Certain," replied Suzuki-san. "Estée Lauder Burnt Orange Flame, in fact. And the cigarette was a Mild Seven—the most popular brand in Japan."
"Wonderful," said Kawamura after a moment.
Kawamura and Suzuki-san stood at the top of the stairs. An enormous, stuffed elk head was inexplicably mounted on the wall near the locker room entrances.
"It would be nice if that creature could talk," said Suzuki-san, looking at the elk head.
"It would probably only complicate things," said Kawamura. "Anyway, tomorrow we should pay a visit to Mr. Theodore Bitman and find out why Manabe sued him. And we should pay a call on your friend in the fruit-salad shirt, Kimura-san. If he used to work for Manabe, their fight on the courts might have had something to do with that."
"What about Sakai?"
"I
