Chapter Two #3
Should he tell Aurora about his misgivings?
Jiro remained undecided. He was making his papa out to be perfectly content on this cruise; a man who was enjoying every moment of life.
If he told her about the phone call and his father’s sudden change in mood, she might think he was being overly dramatic.
She’d want to know why, and she’d probably want to dig deeper into his past to look for any guide to his switch in demeanor, and he wasn’t prepared to reveal his childhood traumas to this woman.
But if he didn’t tell her, might they miss a vital clue that would help them find Papa?
Why was he hesitating? Any normal, loving son would be giving up every detail, no matter how small, in the hopes of helping in the search.
If his mother were still alive, Jiro knew he would be doing everything in his power to find his father right now, for her sake.
But she’d died eight years ago and taken any vestiges of humanity her father might have harbored with her.
Guilt warred with a sense of duty inside Jiro’s head.
Kenichi Nashimori was all about duty and responsibility, and had drummed into both his sons how important it was to respect their elders and their tradition and culture.
But Kenichi Nashimori was also a hypocrite in Jiro’s eyes.
He demanded respect but never gave any back in return.
For most of his life, Kenichi had been a bully and a tyrant, pushing his boys to succeed at all costs.
Taro had used his father’s driving forces and thrived, following in his father’s footsteps, starting up an umbrella business selling antique and second-hand furniture, to run alongside the highly successful Nashimori’s Furniture Company.
But Jiro had rebelled, going in the complete opposite direction to study conservation at uni, and his father had never got over the disappointment.
But he couldn’t let his father die. He would never live down the self-condemnation if he did.
And Taro would never let him live it down either.
He had a responsibility to tell everything he knew.
Just as he opened his mouth to tell Aurora all that he knew, however, the door to the private sitting room flew open and Inspector Viskten strode in.
“You are correct; there is no sign of Kenichi Nashimori aboard this ship,” he said without preamble.
“I checked with the security officer, and he has confirmed there is no electronic register of your father coming back on board.”
“Right,” Jiro replied slowly. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, but of course every passenger scanned their key card whenever they disembarked or re-boarded the ship, so they would have an electronic record of who was on board at all times.
Not that it was fail-safe; he was sure people could slip on and off without scanning, but they would only do that if they were trying to avoid detection.
Had his father been trying to avoid detection?
“I’m sorry, but we will have to let the captain sail this evening as per his schedule. You might want to grab your things from your cabin if you want to stay and help with the search,” the inspector added, and Jiro nodded glumly.
Then he raised his head and said, “So, when can we get back out to the reindeer farm?”
Viskten flicked a quick glance at Aurora. So quick, Jiro might’ve missed it if he wasn’t staring directly at the man.
“What?” Jiro demanded. “What’s going on now?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Viskten said, “I’ve been called back to HQ for another priority matter.
And Constable Karlsson is due to finish her shift in half an hour.
So, unfortunately, we will have to hand you over to another team.
Inspector Dalstrom will be taking over from here.
He and his partner, Constable Moreau, have been briefed and will be waiting for you back at HQ. ”
Jiro felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, and his shoulders deflated.
They were abandoning him already? No, that wasn’t right.
They weren’t abandoning him; they were handing him off to someone else, but it still didn’t feel right.
It was an irrational thought, he only met the two cops less than a few hours ago, but for some reason they felt like a lifeline between him and his lost father.
Now he would have to start telling his story all over again to a brand-new set of ears.
What else could be higher priority than a missing seventy-year-old man?
Jiro stood mute, his confusion and anger making it impossible to speak without saying something he’d regret.
“Oh, but…” Aurora spoke for the first time, staring at Jiro with her big eyes, confusion and some other cryptic emotion flitting across her face. Then she turned to Viskten. “I’d like to continue with this case, if that’s okay?”
Jiro’s heart stuttered in his chest. He didn’t know why she wanted to stay; all he knew was he was suddenly desperate to have Aurora remain with him. But would the inspector agree?