"Stolen, you say?" Inspector Koichi Zenigata frowned and tapped his pen against the edge of his desk. "Well, it certainly sounds like something Lupin would do. Sure, I'll get over there right away." He hung up the phone and reached for his overcoat.
When he arrived at the Wakahisa estate, he was greeted by Ichiro Wakahisa himself. Zenigata pulled out a notebook as they walked towards the courtyard garden.
"Tell me about this plant, sir," Zenigata said. He flipped a page and prepared to take notes.
Wakahisa shook his head. "It is the rarest of flowers, Inspector," he said quietly. "I am most distressed by its disappearance." They arrived in the garden, and Wakahisa gestured to an empty hole in a massive stone planter. "It was here. The pride of my collection." He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
The silence gave Zenigata time to look around the courtyard. There was an incredible variety of plant life here. Wakahisa was certainly passionate about botany. The garden was a masterpiece: every possible shape, size, and colour was represented, all artistically arranged. It must have taken years of dedication.
Wakahisa opened his eyes and looked at Inspector Zenigata. "The mirus concisus came into my possession six months ago," he said. "It is a perfect specimen. They typically fail in greenhouse conditions, but this was a particularly robust strain." He fingered the glossy yellow leaves of an exceptionally tall plant.
Zenigata wrote a few notes in a scrawl that would have made a doctor envious. "This would be the flower that people call the Tokyo Rose, is that right, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, although it's a misnomer at best," Wakahisa said, frowning slightly. "The mirus concisus is an extremely rare flower that blooms only once every year, for approximately three hours." He moved to a long wooden table and picked up a plastic plant mister. "It is perhaps five inches in height. Its leaves are dark green with pale green veins and a slight blueing around the margin." Wakahisa bent and carefully sprayed a small, low-lying shrub. He straightened and turned to face the inspector. "The flower is currently closed; it is very delicate, shaped a little like a gardenia, and it is red in colour."
"Mm-hm, mm-hm." Zenigata nodded solemnly, scribbling the details in his notebook. He looked around the garden again. "And when did you notice it was missing?"
"This morning, when I came into the courtyard. I had hired a man to guard it, but he fell asleep." Wakahisa sighed deeply and set the plant mister back on the table. "Someone must have taken it during the night."
"And what is this man's name?" Zenigata asked. He held his pencil poised over his notepad.
"Goemon Ishikawa."
The pencil snapped in half.
"Are you all right, inspector?" Wakahisa asked, his voice filled with concern. "You look a little ... purple."
Zenigata gripped the broken pencil. He blinked slowly. Twice.
"Did you say 'Goemon Ishikawa'?" he said carefully.
Wakahisa nodded.
"Why, that's one of Lupin's partners! Oh, sir!" Zenigata was close to tears. "I'm so happy!" Wakahisa looked at the inspector as though he had just announced that he was a duck. "Thank you! Thank you!" Zenigata sniffled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'll take care of this right away for you, sir. Right away. If you could just give me the address of this Ishikawa fellow?"
Wakahisa shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have one," he said, edging away from the flailing inspector. "That is, he didn't have one to give me. A very old Buddhist monk recommended him. He intimated that Ishikawa was a wandering student of Bushido."
Zenigata's face fell. His shoulders drooped. "No address?" he said in a very small voice.
"None at all. I'm sorry, inspector." Wakahisa bowed slightly in apology.
Zenigata frowned deeply. With renewed determination, he stuffed his notebook and pencil into his pocket. "Don't worry, sir," he said, turning to Wakahisa. "I'll find your flower and have it back to you in no time." He bowed respectfully to the older man. "Have no fear. Lupin won't get away with this!" The inspector looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, then raised one finger. "It would be for the best if the press didn't get wind of this, though," he added. "If Lupin doesn't know we're on his trail, then he might relax his guard and be fooled into making a mistake."
Wakahisa looked curiously at the inspector, but merely nodded. "Of course, Inspector Zenigata," he said politely. "I will see to it that my people keep quiet about the incident." He bowed deeply. "Thank you so much, inspector," he continued. "I will be in your debt if you are able to retrieve my mirus concisus. It is due to bloom Saturday at midnight, and to be unable to witness the event would be a great tragedy."
Zenigata saluted crisply. "We'll do everything in our power, sir," he said, and turned smartly towards the door. As he left the estate, he bubbled inside. At last, another chance to catch Lupin. And it had fallen into his lap like a cherry blossom!