Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  Tomohiko went back to his room and tried to think. But his head was a swirl and time kept slipping by.

  It was twenty minutes later on the dot when Ryo arrived. Tomohiko went to the door and opened it. ‘Hey, you ride a bike?’ he asked, nodding towards Ryo’s motorcycle out front.

  ‘That’s hardly important right now,’ Ryo said, pushing past him.

  They went into his room and Tomohiko sat at the desk. Ryo sat cross-legged on the floor, right next to a square of blue cloth covering a lump about the size of a small television. This was Tomohiko’s personal computer – his pride and joy and usually the first thing he’d show friends who came to visit.

  ‘OK, talk,’ Ryo said.

  ‘I’m not sure where to start.’

  ‘How about we start with the part where you broke your promise.’

  Tomohiko cleared his throat and slowly began to tell the story of what had happened.

  Ryo listened without expression, but it was clear that he was angry. When Tomohiko got to the events of that day, his mouth gaped open.

  ‘Dead? You mean she actually died?’

  ‘Yeah. I checked her, man, more than once. I’m pretty sure.’

  Ryo spat under his breath. ‘That alcoholic bitch.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. She must’ve got too excited and it got to her heart. That’s what happens when you’re over forty and you drink like you’re in college.’

  ‘But she was only thirty-two,’ Tomohiko said.

  Ryo broke into a grin. ‘Idiot. No, trust me. She was an old lady with a thing for little boys. You’re the sixth I introduced her to, you know.’

  ‘But I – but she never said —’

  ‘Oh please, really?’ Ryo said, his look of disappointment turning swiftly into a glare. ‘Where is she now?’

  Tomohiko summed up the situation as quickly as he could, adding that he was pretty sure there was no way they’d be able to fool the police on this one.

  Ryo groaned. ‘OK, I think I get the picture. If her husband was on to you, you don’t really have many options. Guess you’re going to have to let the police question you,’ he said, and the way he said it made it sound like an order.

  ‘I know,’ Tomohiko said. ‘But I have to tell the truth. Everything. Even about the apartment.’

  Ryo frowned and rubbed his temples. ‘That’s not going to work. That makes things a lot more complicated, understand?’

  ‘But if I don’t tell them about it, how will I explain how we met?’

  ‘Easy. Tell them you were hanging out in Shinsaibashi and she picked you up.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can lie to the police like that. I mean, what if they press me hard and I slip up?’

  ‘Well, if you do…’ Ryo slapped his hands down on his knees. ‘Then I’m sure the people backing me will have something to say about it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You think I’m running this operation solo?’

  ‘Yakuza?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Ryo stretched his neck to both sides until it made an audible pop. The next instant, he had his hands on Tomohiko’s collar. ‘Listen,’ Ryo snarled. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say anything more than you have to, or you’re gonna learn there’s people in this world a hell of a lot scarier than the cops.’

  Tomohiko swallowed.

  Ryo released him and stood, his speech finished.

  ‘Ryo…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I – never mind.’ Tomohiko’s eyes went down to the floor.

  Ryo snorted and turned to leave, knocking the cloth off Tomohiko’s computer.

  ‘Hey,’ Ryo said, his eyes widening. ‘This yours?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Not a bad rig,’ Ryo said, kneeling down to examine it more closely. ‘You program?’

  ‘Basic, mostly.’

  ‘What about assembly language?’

  ‘A little,’ he said, startled that Ryo knew about computers.

  ‘You write anything big?’

  ‘Just a game or two.’

  ‘Show me.’

  ‘What? Now?’

  ‘Just show me,’ Ryo said, grabbing Tomohiko’s collar again, this time with one hand.

  Blanching, Tomohiko pulled a folder off of his bookshelf and handed it to Ryo. This was a collection of flow charts and code, describing the programs he’d written in detail.

  Ryo pored over it for a few minutes. Then he closed the file and, at the same time, his eyes. He sat without moving for a long moment.

  Tomohiko almost asked him if he was OK, when he saw Ryo’s lips move as if he was talking to himself.

  ‘Tomohiko,’ Ryo said suddenly. ‘I need your help.’

  ‘What?’

  Ryo turned to look him square in the face. ‘You do exactly what I say and I’ll get you out of this. You won’t have to talk to the police. That woman dying and you will have nothing to do with each other.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Can you follow instructions?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, anything,’ Tomohiko said.

  ‘What’s your blood type?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your blood type, are you deaf?’

  ‘O.’

  ‘Perfect. You used a glove, right?’

  ‘A condom? Yeah, of course.’

  ‘Good,’ Ryo stood back up and extended a hand toward Tomohiko. ‘The key, please.’

  It was in the evening two days later when the detectives came. There was one in his forties wearing a white open-necked shirt, and another wearing a light-blue polo shirt.

  ‘We’d like to have a few words with your son, Tomohiko,’ open-neck asked his mom. He didn’t say what it was about. Tomohiko’s mom was aghast.

  They took Tomohiko to a nearby park. The sun had already set but the benches were still warm from the day. Tomohiko sat down next to open-neck. Polo shirt remained standing, facing him.

  Tomohiko had tried to avoid saying anything on their way there. He just let himself look as nervous as he really was. ‘It’s suspicious if a high school student acts like it’s no big deal to talk to detectives.’ That had been Ryo’s advice when he briefed him two days before.

  Open-neck held up a photograph. ‘You know this woman?’

  It was Yuko. It looked like it might have been taken on a vacation somewhere. She was standing with the ocean behind her, smiling at the camera. Her hair was cut a little shorter than he remembered it.

  ‘That’s Mrs Hanaoka,’ Tomohiko said.

  ‘But you know her first name too, don’t you?’

  ‘Yuko, I think.’

  ‘That’s right. Yuko Hanaoka.’ The detective put the photograph away. ‘How do you know her?’

  ‘Whatcha mean?’ Tomohiko said, mumbling his words a little. ‘I just know her.’

  ‘Which is why I’m asking how you know her,’ open-neck said. He spoke softly, but there was a ring of irritation to his voice.

  ‘My advice,’ polo shirt said, ‘be honest, kid.’ He had a mean smile on his face.

  ‘I was in Shinsaibashi, ’bout a month ago. She came up and talked to me.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That if I was free, maybe I could get some tea with her.’

  The detectives exchanged glances.

  ‘Did you go?’ open-neck asked.

  ‘Yeah. She said it was her treat.’

  Polo shirt snorted at that.

  ‘So you had tea, what then?’

  ‘That’s it. We hung out at a café for a bit, and then I went home.’

  ‘OK. That wasn’t the only time you met her, though, was it?’

  ‘No… We met twice after that.’

  ‘How did that go down?’

  ‘She called saying she was in Minami and if I had some time, maybe I could come down and we could have tea again. Something like that.’

  ‘Your mom answer the phone?’

  ‘No, I did. Both times.’

>   That answer didn’t seem to please the detective. He stuck out his lower lip and asked, ‘So you went?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What happened then? Don’t tell me you just had tea?’

  ‘Actually,’ Tomohiko looked up at him, ‘I had iced coffee. And we talked a little. Then I went home.’

  ‘And that was everything?’

  ‘Yeah. Was I supposed to do something else?’

  Open-neck scratched his head and stared at Tomohiko, trying to read his expression. ‘Look, your school’s coed, right? You must have a girlfriend or two. Why bother hanging out with some old lady?’

  ‘I had some free time, that’s all.’

  The detective grunted. ‘What about cash? She give you anything?’

  ‘I didn’t take anything, sir.’

  ‘You mean she offered you money, but you didn’t take it?’

  ‘That’s right. The second time we met, she tried to give me five thousand yen, but I didn’t take it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It just… I hadn’t done anything to earn it, I guess.’

  Open-neck shook his head and shot polo shirt a look of disbelief.

  ‘Where was this café where you met?’ polo shirt asked.

  ‘The lounge at the New Japan Air Hotel.’

  Here he told the truth, as he was pretty sure one of Yuko’s husband’s friends had seen them there.

  ‘So you’re telling us you went to a hotel just to have tea? No going up to the room afterwards for some hanky-panky?’ polo shirt asked, his voice rough. Clearly he didn’t think much of any high school student who entertained bored housewives to pass the time.

  ‘No, we just drank and talked. Like I said.’

  Polo shirt snorted.

  ‘How about the night before last?’ open-neck asked. ‘Where did you go after school?’

  ‘The night before last?’ Tomohiko wet his lips. This was it. ‘I was hanging out at Asahiya – you know, the bookstore in Tennoji.’

  ‘And what time did you go home?’

  ‘Seven-thirty.’

  ‘And you were home after that?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You see anyone other than your family?’

  ‘A friend came over around eight. He’s in my class at school, name’s Ryo.’

  Open-neck made a note of that. ‘How long was he at your house for?’

  ‘Until nine.’

  ‘Nine. And what did you do after that?’

  ‘Just watched TV, and talked on the phone with a friend…’

  ‘Who were you talking to?’

  ‘A guy named Morishita. We went to middle school together.’

  ‘When did you talk?’

  ‘He called around eleven, so we probably talked until after midnight.’

  ‘He called you?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  There was a trick here. Tomohiko had actually called Morishita first, when he knew he’d be out at work, and told his mom he wanted him to call when he came home. This was all according to Ryo’s instructions.

  The detective’s eyebrows knitted together and he asked for Morishita’s phone number. Tomohiko told him on the spot. He had it memorised.

  ‘I got another question. What’s your blood type?’ open-neck asked.

  ‘My blood type? O. Why?’

  ‘O? You’re sure?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure. My parents are both O, too.’

  Tomohiko detected a sudden drop in the detectives’ interest in him. He remembered Kirihara asking him his blood type, too, but he’d never explained why.

  ‘Um,’ Tomohiko asked hesitantly. ‘Did something happen to Mrs Hanaoka?’

  ‘You don’t read the paper?’ open neck said.

  Tomohiko had seen the little column in the evening paper the night before, but he shook his head.

  ‘She died. The night before last, at a hotel.’

  ‘What?’ Tomohiko acted surprised. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious. ‘How?’

  ‘Who knows?’ The detective stood from the bench. ‘Thanks; you were a big help. We might have more questions for you later, but that’s all for now.’

  ‘Oh – OK.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ open-neck said to polo shirt. They walked off without a single glance in Tomohiko’s direction.

  It wasn’t just the detectives who paid a visit to Tomohiko.

  Four days after talking to the detectives he was walking away from the front gate of the school when someone tapped his shoulder from behind. He looked around to see an older man with slicked-back hair and a bland smile on his face.

  ‘Tomohiko Sonomura?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  The man’s right hand slid out in a practised motion. He was holding a business card which read IKUO HANAOKA.

  Tomohiko could feel the colour drain from his face. He knew he should act cool, but his body stiffened.

  ‘I was hoping we could have a chat?’ The man spoke in a deep baritone, the kind that rumbled in the chest.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Let’s talk in the car,’ the man said, pointing to a silver-grey sedan parked by the side of the road. Tomohiko got into the passenger seat.

  ‘Some detectives from the Minami station visited you, right?’ Hanaoka said, sitting in the driver’s seat.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I thought so. See, I was the one who gave them your name. Your number was in my wife’s address book, but I guess you already knew that. Sorry if they caused you any trouble, by the way, but there were a lot of things that just weren’t adding up.’

  Tomohiko was under no illusion that the man had any real concern for him. He held his tongue and listened.

  ‘The detectives said she called you a few times?’ He smiled with his lips, but not his eyes.

  ‘Yeah. We talked, in a café.’