Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  ‘Yes, you seem to like it.’

  ‘It’s a Cartier Limited edition. In fact, I only know one other person who owns one.’

  ‘You don’t say,’ Imaeda replied.

  ‘We hope to see you again soon,’ Yukiho said.

  ‘Yes, soon.’

  Outside, Imaeda gave Eri a ride back to her apartment and paid her ten thousand yen. ‘Not bad just for trying on some fancy clothes, huh?’

  ‘Are you kidding? That was torture. Next time I’m definitely making you buy me something.’

  ‘If there is a next time,’ Imaeda said to himself as he drove away. Today’s visit hadn’t strictly been part of his investigation. He just wanted to meet Yukiho Karasawa in person.

  He sensed it would be dangerous to go back. Yukiho was clearly someone to watch out for, far more than he had realised.

  Back at his office, he gave Kazunari a call.

  ‘How did it go?’

  ‘I think I understand what you’re saying now, a little,’ Imaeda told him.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘There is something mysterious about her.’

  ‘You see?’

  ‘And she’s incredibly attractive. I can understand why your cousin fell for her.’

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  ‘Actually,’ Imaeda continued, ‘there was one thing I wanted to ask you about: the watch you loaned me.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Are you sure you never wore it in front of her? Or spoke to her about it in any way?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Did she say something?’

  Imaeda related what Yukiho had said at the shop. He heard Kazunari groan.

  ‘I’d be really surprised if she knew I had it,’ he said. ‘Except…’ His voice grew quiet.

  ‘Except what?’

  ‘Actually, I did wear it once when she was around. But there’s no way she could have seen it. And even if she had, I’d be amazed if she remembered.’

  ‘Where was this?’

  ‘Her wedding reception.’

  ‘You wore it to her reception? What makes you so sure she didn’t see it?’

  ‘I talked a little with Makoto, but I never got that close to her. The only time I did was when the couple was going around the tables with a long taper, lighting the candles at each table – you know that thing they do at receptions sometimes. But the lights were down, and I have a hard time believing she could have either seen or remembered my watch.’

  ‘Right, well, probably not something worth worrying about, then.’

  ‘I wouldn’t think so, no.’

  Imaeda nodded, holding the receiver in his hand. Kazunari seemed like a bright enough man. If he didn’t think she had seen the watch, he would have to take his word for it.

  ‘I’m sorry to put you through all this trouble,’ Kazunari apologised.

  ‘All in a day’s work,’ said Imaeda. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m a little interested in her now, too. Don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t mean I’m smitten with her. It’s just… there’s definitely something going on there.’

  On the other end of the line, Kazunari fell silent. After a moment, he said, ‘Well, thanks, and let me know if you find out anything else.’

  ‘Will do,’ Imaeda said and hung up the phone.

  Two days later, Imaeda was back in Osaka to meet someone he’d learned of while questioning people who lived near the Karasawa house.

  A woman running a small bakery had told him he should look for ‘Mrs Motooka’s daughter – she went to Seika. She might know the Karasawa girl. She’s about the same age as her, I should think. Sorry, I don’t know for sure.’

  The daughter’s name was Kuniko, a regular at the bakery. The woman had told him she was an interior designer who did work for one of the large real estate agencies in town.

  Back in Tokyo, he looked into the estate agency. It took some doing, but he managed to dig up Kuniko’s phone number and gave her a call. Imaeda introduced himself as a freelance writer doing some research for a column he was writing for a woman’s magazine.

  ‘We’re doing a special on women from elite girls’ schools who’ve gone independent in the workforce. I was looking for women in the Tokyo and Osaka area who are making a name for themselves in business,and your name came up.’

  Kuniko sounded surprised, but not displeased. She wanted to know who had given him her name.

  ‘Sorry, but I can’t say. Source confidentiality, and all that. I was wondering if I could ask you what year you graduated from Seika?’

  ‘1981.’

  Inwardly, Imaeda cheered. That put her in Yukiho Karasawa’s year.

  ‘Do you happen to know someone by the name of Ms Karasawa?’

  ‘You mean Yukiho?’

  ‘That’s right – you know her?’

  ‘Yes, though we weren’t in the same class, ever. Was there something about her?’

  Imaeda thought he detected a note of alarm in the woman’s voice.

  ‘Yes, actually, I had planned to interview her as well. She’s running a few boutiques up here in Tokyo.’

  ‘I see. I had no idea.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Imaeda said, ‘I was hoping we might meet some time. I’d only need an hour, tops. I’d like to hear more about the work you do, and your lifestyle, things like that for the article – as long as you can fit it into your schedule.’

  Kuniko hesitated a moment before agreeing.

  Kuniko worked at an office several minutes’ walk from the subway station in central Osaka, a part of town called Senba. It was known for its wholesalers and financial institutions and the streets were lined with business hotels. Even now that the economic bubble had burst, businessmen and women hurried along the streets, no one seeming to have a second to waste.

  The office for her company, Staging Success, was on the twentieth floor of a building owned by the estate agency. Imaeda waited for her in the café in the shopping mall beneath the building.

  The glass clock on the wall read five past one when a woman wearing a white jacket came into the café. She had on glasses, the frames a bit large on her face. For a woman, she was very tall and she fitted the image Imaeda had from talking to her on the phone to a T. She had slender legs, too, and was quite attractive.

  Imaeda stood and introduced himself, handing her a business card that said he was a freelance writer. The name on the card was an alias.

  She ordered a milk tea and sat down.

  ‘Thanks for taking the time to see me,’ he said.

  ‘It’s no problem, I only hope it’s worth your time,’ Kuniko said. She had a noticeably Osakan accent.

  ‘I have no doubt it will be. I’m interviewing a number of people for this project.’

  ‘I had a question about that, actually,’ she said. ‘Will my real name appear in the article?’

  ‘Our general rule is to use aliases. Unless of course you wanted to request that we use your actual name?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, no. An alias is fine.’

  ‘Right, let’s begin, then.’

  Imaeda took out his pen and notebook and started asking the kind of questions he might have asked if he had really been doing a report on graduates from girls’ schools. Kuniko answered each question thoughtfully and Imaeda felt oddly guilty, so he tried to at least pay attention and be serious with his follow-up questions. As a result, he learned all about the merits of using an interior designer and the added value an estate agency gained by working with her team. It was all very interesting, actually.

  Getting through his first questions only took about thirty minutes. Kuniko stopped talking for a moment to take a sip of her tea.

  Imaeda had been waiting for the right moment to bring the conversation around to Yukiho. He had already laid the groundwork on the phone the other day, but was struggling for a natural segue when Kuniko asked, ‘You said you were looking at Ms Karasawa as well?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Imaeda said, a little s
urprised.

  ‘She’s running some kind of boutique?’

  ‘Yes. In Aoyama, up in Tokyo.’

  ‘My, she’s really done well for herself,’ Kuniko said. Her expression looked a little hard.

  Apparently, this woman didn’t have a very favourable impression of Yukiho. That was perfect – if he was going to start asking questions about Yukiho’s past he wanted someone who wouldn’t mince words.

  Sticking his hand in his jacket pocket, he asked if she minded if he had a cigarette. She shook her head.

  He put a Marlboro in his mouth and lit it – a calculated move to indicate that the real interview was over and now they were just chatting.

  ‘It’s funny you should mention her,’ Imaeda said. ‘We’ve actually been having a bit of a problem with her part of the story.’

  Kuniko’s eyes lit up. ‘What sort of problem?’

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Imaeda said, ‘just, some of the people I’ve talked to don’t have a very favourable impression of her.’

  ‘Oh? In what way?’

  ‘Well, I think because she’s young and she’s running a few stores, people are envious of her success. That, and I’m sure she had to step on a few people to get where she is. Comes with the territory.’ Imaeda took a sip of his tepid coffee. ‘You know, we’re hearing comments like “she’s tight with her money”, or “she’s not afraid to use people if her business will benefit”, that sort of thing.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Of course, we’re very interested in featuring her as a young female entrepreneur, but if it turns out she actually does have a bad reputation, well, some people in editorial think we should give her a pass. So now I’m wondering what to do.’

  ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be good for the magazine if something came out.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ Imaeda said, stealing a glance at Kuniko’s expression. She didn’t seem to find this discussion of her former classmate’s flaws uncomfortable. ‘You were in middle and high school with her, was it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You remember anything about her from those days? Did she seem like the kind of person who might get into trouble later in life? I won’t include any of this in the article, of course, so feel free to be honest.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Kuniko said, frowning. She glanced at her watch. ‘Like I said on the phone, we were never in the same class together. But I definitely knew about her. Everyone in school knew about her. She was a minor celebrity.’

  ‘You don’t say?’

  ‘Well, it’s just,’ she blinked a few times, ‘looking like she does, she stood out. Some of the boys from a nearby school even made a fan club in her honour.’

  ‘A fan club?’ Imaeda chuckled. Having met her in person, he wasn’t surprised.

  ‘She was a good student, too, I hear. One of my friends had been in the same class as her since middle school.’

  ‘So a real achiever, then.’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know much about her first-hand. I don’t think we ever spoke, even.’

  ‘Did your friend have anything to say about her?’

  ‘No, she never said anything bad about Yukiho. It was just talking about how lucky she was to be born so beautiful, things like that.’

  ‘She never said anything bad… but someone else did?’

  Kuniko thought for a moment.

  ‘There was a strange rumour going around about her in middle school,’ Kuniko said. Her voice grew quieter.

  ‘What sort of rumour?’

  She shot him a suspicious look. ‘You swear you’re not going to put this in your article?’

  ‘You have my word,’ he said.

  Kuniko took a breath. ‘People said she was lying about her past.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, they said that she was born into a really bad household, but she hid it and was just pretending to be well-to-do.’

  ‘You sure they weren’t just talking about her being adopted by a relative when she was little?’

  Kuniko leaned forward slightly. ‘There was that, yes, but the problem was the house where she was born. They said that her real mom made money through special… arrangements with men.’

  ‘I see,’ Imaeda said, taking care not to seem too surprised. ‘You mean she was someone’s mistress?’

  ‘Not just someone, several people. It was only a rumour, of course,’ she added. ‘Except,’ she continued, ‘one of the men she was seeing was killed.’

  Now Imaeda acted surprised. ‘Really?’

  She nodded. ‘Apparently the police had Yukiho’s mom in for questioning.’

  That would be the pawnshop owner, Imaeda thought, staring at the tip of his cigarette. So the police hadn’t had their eyes on Fumiyo Nishimoto just because she was a customer at the shop – if the rumour was actually true.

  ‘Please don’t tell anyone I told you this.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise.’ Imaeda smiled at her. Then his face went serious again. ‘Still, that’s a pretty heavy rumour. There wasn’t any trouble because of it?’

  ‘Not that I ever noticed. I mean, word did get around, but it was only in our little circle. And besides, everyone knew who started the rumour.’

  ‘They did?’

  ‘Yes. It was a girl who had a friend or relative or something who lived near the house where Yukiho grew up, which is how she knew about it. I wasn’t close to her myself, but I heard about it through a friend.’

  ‘Was this girl also at Seika?’

  ‘She was our classmate.’

  ‘What was her name?’

  ‘I’m not sure I should say.’ Kuniko looked down at the table.

  ‘Of course, I’m sorry,’ Imaeda said, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions by probing too deeply. ‘Still, that’s quite a rumour to spread. Don’t you think she would’ve been worried that it would get back to Yukiho?’

  ‘Oh, it was pretty clear that they were enemies back then. This other girl was an over-achiever herself, so she probably thought of Yukiho as a rival.’

  ‘Sounds like a classic girls’ school story.’

  Kuniko smiled. ‘Thinking back on it now, it sure does.’

  ‘So what happened to their rivalry in the end?’

  ‘It’s funny, actually,’ Kuniko said, then she fell silent. After a long moment, she said, ‘There was an incident, I guess you’d call it, and after that, they became friends.’

  ‘An incident?’

  Kuniko glanced around them. No one was sitting near their table. ‘The girl who spread the rumour was attacked.’