person who cleaned this room the next day?" asked Takemura, turning to the manager.
"Just a moment, please," replied Takano, picking up the phone. In hardly any time at all, a man in his forties appeared, and Takano introduced him as a Mr. Ohta, the person in charge of cleaning.
Ohta, a man of even smaller build than Takano, looked the strictly honest and steadfast type.
"Did you check this room the morning after Mr. Takeda was here?" asked Takemura.
"Yes. This is a special room, so I always clean it myself."
"Oh good. That will make this faster. Now then, may I assume that Mr. Takeda had not used the bed or bathroom?"
"Oh no. He had used them."
"He had?" Takemura's expression stiffened, as did Kinoshita's. "Then you mean he had taken a bath and laid down?"
"Yes, I think so. The bathtub and a towel were wet, and the bar of soap had been used. And the sheets and pillow looked like they had been lain on, and the robe had been worn."
"Which would mean that Mr. Takeda had taken a bath, then put on the robe and taken a rest on the bed, right?"
"Yes, that's what it looked like."
"But we were told that he returned to his room a little after six and went out again a little before seven. That's only thirty or forty minutes. An awfully short time to have gotten undressed, put on a bathrobe, taken a nap, and even a bath, don't you think?"
"Yes, you're right, of course, but since that is what he actually did..." Ohta looked a little upset. Short time or not, a fact was a fact, and he obviously couldn't see the point in questioning it.
"By the way, has anyone used these rooms since Mr. Takeda was here?"
"No, nobody."
"Okay. Mr. Takano, I'm sorry about this, but could I ask you to see that the rooms are not used for a little while? We'll have some men from CID here in the next day or two."
Pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket and putting them on, Takemura opened the drawer of the desk against the living room wall. It contained stationery with the hotel letterhead, picture postcards, a brochure, a hotel information folder, and so on. Holding the blank letter paper up to the light, he could see faint impressions of writing.
"Mind if I borrow this?" he asked, handing the paper to Kinoshita. "By the way, was the room next to this one occupied that evening?"
"Yes, it must have been. We were full up with people connected with the golf course. Those from Nagano City went home that evening, but most of those from farther away spent the night in Togakushi. There were so many that we couldn't put all of them up ourselves, and we had to find rooms at other hotels in the vicinity, so I hardly think we could have had any vacancies."
"In that case, I'll ask you to give me the name and address of the occupant of that room when we go downstairs." Takemura kept his hands busy as he spoke, opening the big thick cover of the information folder. It began with the usual stipulations about conditions of stay, followed by information about hotel facilities, a diagram of emergency escape routes, a description of the restaurant and coffee shop, ski information, and so on—the usual content.
"Wow, this looks delicious!" he exclaimed gluttonously, his mouth really watering as he looked at the picture of a meal on the restaurant menu. "Is the meal on this cart for one person?"
"No, I believe it's for two."
"I should hope so! It doesn't look like one person could eat all that, does it? Still, even for two, that's quite a meal! I suppose this is a picture of one of these stews over here?"
"Well, I don't know if we could really call it a stew or not. Actually, it's a fondue. There's melted cheese in that pot, and the meat and vegetables and shrimp and everything on these skewers are dipped in it to cook. I don't know whether you'd call it boiling or deep-frying, but anyway, that's how it's eaten."
"Oh, so this is what they call fondue! I'd heard of it, but I never saw it before. Then, it's served on a cart, like this? Hey, that's great! I'll have to bring my wife here one day to try it. But I'll bet it's expensive, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, I'd say a meal the size of the one in this picture would be quite expensive, but of course, this is only a sample. I'm sure we could prepare something to fit your budget."
"Really? A sample? I suppose it would have to be. It really looks terrific! There's shrimp and scallops, and good beef, and I guess the wine is imported?"
"Yes, it is," replied the manager, his smile wearing somewhat thin. This detective was certainly taking his time. Even Kinoshita was looking a little tired.
"Wait a minute, though," said Takemura, inclining his head. "If you use this cart for room service, how do you get it up here? You'd have an awful time getting it up the stairs, like a portable shrine, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, there's no problem there. We have a dumbwaiter to bring the cart up, meal and all, from the kitchen."
"Oh, you do? Well, that's a relief. That means you can bring it up still aboil. Well, it sure does look delicious."
"It's just about dinnertime. Would you like to try some? We'd be happy to prepare it for you."
"No, no, don't worry about us. We were planning to stop at the Middle Shrine for some homemade buckwheat noodles on the way back. But I would appreciate it if you could show me that dumbwaiter."
Takemura's interest had jumped to something else. Kinoshita, always with him, should have been used to it, but he still sometimes wondered how some of the things the Inspector chose to stick his head into were possibly going to be of any use to him.
When they left the room, Takemura's attention fixed on the emergency door at the end of the corridor. "I suppose that door can be opened at a touch even at night?"
"Yes, from inside."
"Then anyone who wanted to could just slip out in the middle of the night?"
"No, not so easily. When the door is opened, a buzzer sounds in the office behind the front desk."
"Oh really? You think of everything, don't you? Then nobody can get out without paying his bill." Takemura sounded quite like he was planning to try it himself.
They went back along the corridor toward the stairs. In a recess to the right just past the stairwell were drink machines. Beyond them was a small area marked off with a sign that read "Employees Only Beyond This Point," where there was an opening in the wall for the dumbwaiter, which looked about half the size of an elevator in width and height, with a door that opened and closed vertically.
"Could you show me how this works?" asked Takemura, excited.
"Well then, why don't we try it with that?" said Takano, pointing to a big laundry cart. He looked rather like a showman as he pushed the button to summon the dumbwaiter. "When it's in use, this lamp lights up and the dumbwaiter won't respond to the button elsewhere."
When Takano pushed the button, the "In Use" lamp lit up simultaneously with the sound of a motor starting somewhere below. In a surprisingly short time, the motor stopped, and the door opened. The compartment behind the door was
