Puppet Master vol.1
Page 16
He could have called directory inquiries on 104 to find out the telephone number for the Furukawa house, but the number would have been registered in Shigeru Furukawa's name as householder and his name had not been mentioned in any of the TV coverage. Without the householder's full name, directory inquiries would have needed the address too. Of course, he could have worked his way through all the Furukawas listed in Higashi-Nakano and called them one by one until he hit on the right one. However, when the investigating team had done the same, not one of the Furukawa numbers in Higashi-Nakano told them they had received any such call, which had ruled this out.
There were two other explanations possible: one was that the culprit was a close acquaintance of Mariko's; the other was that before killing her (or at least while keeping her prisoner, which he might still be doing) he had somehow coaxed out her personal details.
It was reasonable to assume that the Plaza Hotel affair had been a trick to get Mariko's grandfather away from the house while the caller (or an accomplice) delivered her watch to the house─which meant they must have been there sometime between 6:20 and 8 PM yesterday evening. If they could find an eyewitness, it would be a great step forward for the investigation and so a number of detectives had been dispatched from early this morning to question people in the area. Takegami was hopeful they might turn up something.
He picked up a blue file he kept at hand. Unlike the many other files, this one had not yet been given a title. In it were transcripts of all the calls related to the case that had been made to media outlets and the incident room─from that first call to the TV station, to all the drunken confessions (“It was me!”) and a housewife complaining about the kid next door who'd failed to get into college and had been acting suspiciously. It was now time to divide this file into two: one for all the random information from busybodies; and the other for the transcript of the call made to the TV station, which would soon be followed by a transcript of the tape that Akitsu had just brought him, labeled “Indirect contact by suspect(s).”
“Maybe I should meet him,” Takegami said, looking at the file.
“The old man?”
“Yeah, but it's rude to call him that. His name─come to think of it, I haven't heard it yet.”
“It's Mr. Arima. Yoshio Arima. I'll go get him.”
Once Akitsu had gone, Shinozaki asked, “Is it okay if I sit in on it too?”
“Yes, I want you to make a record of it. We should tape it.”
“Okay, I'll set it up. What about this?” he said, indicating the photo.
“Let's bet on your eyes. Tell the investigation team to look for Kawashige Heavy Machinery.”
“I'm not sure about the heavy machinery bit, but I do think it's Kawashige.”
“Just do it.”
Shinozaki put his glasses back on and went out of the room. Takegami stood up and stretched his back, then suddenly remembered the small TV in the corner of the meeting room and switched it on. It was just the time of afternoon when the gossip shows were on. A reporter was standing in front of the Plaza Hotel talking to the camera. Takegami pulled over an ashtray, and leaned toward the TV. The screen cut to a woman wearing a hotel uniform. The reporter was holding a microphone out for her.
“So you were on duty at the front desk at the time?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“What was the high-school girl like?”
“Um … well, she was short, and pretty much like any other student.”
“Wasn't there anything that stood out about her?”
“No, not really.”
Next, the reporter held the mic out to the young man at her side wearing the same hotel uniform.
“I understand you were the one who took the letter from─”
“Yes, I did,” the young man butted in. “I'm so shocked. Of all the things … I wish I'd looked at her more carefully.”
“You were also there when Mr. Arima came to collect the letter, right?”
“Yes. I feel so sorry for him, the poor man. I wish I could have been of more help.”
His female colleague was nodding gravely. Her eyes looked moist.
Just then, Takegami heard someone laugh by the door. He looked up to see a short, thickset elderly man with a balding head. He was wearing a smart gray jacket over a polo shirt, a packet of cigarettes peeping out of the breast pocket. He was laughing, but the light in his eyes had gone out. He looked beaten.
“Yesterday those same people were calling me a dirty old man,” he said, looking at the TV.
Takegami stood up. “You must be Mr. Arima.”
The old man nodded. “Yes. I'm sorry to be causing so much trouble.”
He looks a bit like my old man, Takegami thought. His height, and especially his stoop. Takegami's father had married late and been considerably older than Arima when he'd passed away a few years ago. But Arima looked much older.
Chapter 9
It was almost time for Shigeko to leave for her meeting with her former chief editor Itagaki, but still she stood transfixed in front of the TV. All the news programs and gossip shows were in a frenzy over the latest dramatic development in the case, with some even putting together special reports. Just what sort of person was this guy? The same question that had been asked over and again on the TV had been bothering Shigeko, too, and she was pretty sure she knew the answer: a ruthless, malicious, cold-blooded murderer.
There had been plenty of ruthless crimes in the past and many criminals were cold-blooded, but this one stood out for the malicious way in which he was toying with the family of his victim. Mariko's grandfather had said he'd initially thought the caller was going to demand money in exchange for returning her─and indeed it would have been more understandable if money had been the objective. But he hadn't asked for money. He'd just had fun sending an honest old man worried about his granddaughter on a wild-goose chase. Had that been his objective from the start? To bully Mariko's family? But if so, why?
This question was still bothering her as she walked to the station, sat on the train, got off, and walked to the Meiyusha office, her lips all the while set in a grim line, her cheeks stiff, and a tense gleam in her eyes. Arriving at the publishers, she went through reception to the coffee shop at the back of the first floor where she had arranged to meet Itagaki, sat down at a table, and ordered a coffee.
“Hey, what's gotten into you? You're looking fierce!”
Shigeko came to with a start and rose to her feet. “I'm sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“What about? We haven't seen each other for ages, and here you are looking ready for a fight!” Still chuckling, Itagaki took a seat in front of her.
He was now working on a new literary magazine that Meiyusha was launching in October, he'd told her when she called yesterday. “A literary magazine?” she'd repeated in surprise, and he'd roared with laughter. “You think I don't know anything about literature, don't you? Well, you're right. So I'm really in a pickle.” Then when she'd asked to meet, he'd responded sure, he had plenty of time on his hands. Shigeko observed him closely. The last time she'd seen him was at her wedding. He looked a bit thinner than he had then, but now that he was in his late forties it suited him better than being plump, she thought.
“It really has been a long time, Shige-chan,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “I've been following your food column in Housekeeping. You're keeping up your writing skills, I see.”
Shigeko bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from a chief editor like you.”
“Oh no,” Itagaki waved his hand and laughed. “I'm not chief of anything these days. And even if this magazine does get off the ground I won't be the chief editor of it anyway.”
“Really? I don't believe you. The dust has long since settled following the Sabrina collapse, surely … and it was a good magazine anyway.”
There was a self-deprecating feel in Itagaki's tone that hadn't been there before─just a touch, but it was there, Shigeko thought. She hadn't noticed it on the phone, but meeting face-to-face like this she sensed he lacked the drive he'd once had. Had something happened to him while Shigeko had been too busy settling into her new life with Shoji to notice? Or maybe it was nothing in particular, just that none of his hopes had come to fruition. Come to think of it, he'd always smoked Short Hopes before, but tucked between his fingers now was a Mild Seven Light. That in itself seemed to symbolize his flagging motivation, she thought.
A sudden thought came to her. “You know, I came to talk to you today about something that might just end up being a big job for you, too,” she said, almost as if speaking to herself.
Itagaki looked at her curiously. “What could that be?”
She put both hands on the table and leaned forward slightly. “It's over a year ago now, but do you remember that manuscript I showed you for a story I was writing?” And then she started telling him about what had happened. As she talked, she noticed that he started sitting up straighter in his chair, put out his cigarette, and then leaned forward, mirroring her own posture. She'd got him interested.
She finished by saying how Detective Sakaki at Higashi-Nakano Police Station had now gone cold on her so she couldn't rely on him for information any more, and since she had no experience of crime reporting she had no idea what to do next and had reached an impasse. Finally she paused for breath and drank up her now stone-cold coffee.
Itagaki exhaled loudly through his nose. “Wow. That's quite a development,” he said, shaking his head. “So coincidences do happen.”
“Yeah, they really do. I was pretty shocked myself. To think that one of the women I'd been writing about would end up being involved in this case.”
Itagaki looked at her. “What? Oh, right, that's a crazy coincidence too. But I was talking about something else.”
“Something else?”
“Yep.” Itagaki fished around in the cigarette pack. It was empty. He threw it down by the ashtray, and looked up. “When you showed me that manuscript, I was working on Silver Life, remember?” Silver Life was a monthly magazine put out by Meiyusha for senior citizens.
“Yes, I remember.”
“I was working on the news desk there until last month, when I was transferred to my present job. That might give you some idea about the position I'm in now, but that's another story,” Itagaki gave a wry smile. “There's no way Silver Life can be called a success. It doesn't sell even half as much as Sabrina did. I've got no idea why it hasn't folded yet.”
Shigeko looked at him in silence. He blinked. “Sorry, that's beside the point, too. Well, what I meant to say is that Silver Life ran a special edition on crime prevention─the kind of services offered by security companies, municipal crime prevention activities, that sort of thing.”
“This was for the elderly, right?”
“Yes. What triggered it was the Kobe earthquake. A lot of the victims of the quake were elderly people living alone. So that spring we ran a special on precautions the elderly can take against earthquake, fire, and flood damage. That was a popular issue, and we were just thinking about how to follow it up when there were a couple of high-profile cases. That was last fall.”
One had been in Saitama, when a wealthy couple was shot dead in a burglary. The furor over that hadn't yet died down when burglars forced their way into the home of an elderly woman living alone in Tokyo, stole all her valuables, and then set fire to her.
“The timing was perfect. It made total sense to follow up the issue on natural disasters with one on crime prevention. We were working on that when another big case happened.” This one had been in Sawa, Chiba Prefecture, when a teacher and his family had been killed at home. “It was awful. I'm sure you remember it, don't you, Shige-chan?”
Shigeko tilted her head, thinking. In fall last year …
“It was in the middle of October. They caught the murderers right away.”
“I remember, I think … was it that case when a couple and their teenage daughter were killed?”
“That's the one.”
Shigeko nodded slowly, remembering. It was right after the wedding and Shoji had nagged her about locking the door properly because of it.
“It was a family of four living in a condo. Both parents were teachers at a private junior high in Tokyo, and they had two kids: a son in high school, and a daughter in junior high. The daughter didn't go to the same school where her parents taught, but to a local public school─a crucial point in the case.”
It had happened on a Friday evening near the end of October. The parents hadn't yet come home from work, and the daughter was at home alone when a middle-aged man smartly dressed in a suit and carrying a gift box of cakes rang the doorbell. When she answered the door, he told her, “My son is in your mother's class at school and I want to ask her advice. I'm sorry to just turn up like this, but I'm really worried about him.”
Given the circumstances, and as the man seemed pleasant enough, she had invited him in. Her mother would be home soon, and the man was polite and mild mannered─she hadn't suspected a thing. As soon as he was inside the apartment, however, he grabbed her and tied her up with some rope he had hidden in his coat pocket, before arming himself with a knife from the kitchen. Next he made a phone call to his two accomplices who had been waiting nearby, who quickly turned up also armed with knives. They took the daughter through to a bedroom at the back of the condo, and waited for the rest of the family to come home.
The mother had arrived first, followed by the father thirty minutes later. All three were there bound and trussed, unable to do anything but cower before the gang of three robbers, who were apparently waiting for the son. Having waited until eight with no sign of him, they ran out of patience and forced the mother to confess that her son had gone to see a friend in another neighborhood and was planning to stay overnight. It was only partly true. The friend's family ran a restaurant, and the son had not gone to visit but to work and would be coming home at ten. However, the mother was probably hoping that if she told them he was staying over, they would give up on him. Whatever they were planning to do next, perhaps her son at least would be saved. And that was how it had turned out.
“After getting their hands on the bankbook, personal seal, cash card, and whatever valuables they could find, the gang killed the three of them,” Itagaki said. “Their plan had been to kill all four members of the family, and to leave late at night when nobody was around to see them. As soon as the bank opened on Monday, they would withdraw as much money from the account as they could. They were betting that nobody would notice anything amiss until the end of Monday. That's why they had chosen the weekend to act.
With this being the plan, there was little difference between the son coming home on Friday night or Saturday morning. They decided to settle down and wait. If the family had lived in a house, someone might have noticed something, but in the large condominium complex neighbors didn't know each other and the soundproofing and privacy were even a selling point.
“Nobody noticed a thing. Until the son eventually came home, that is.”
Still, it was a pretty crude plan, thought Shigeko. Killing them and leaving them there over the weekend─but what if a friend or a relative came to visit? Someone was bound to call, and might well find it suspicious that nobody was answering the phone. And once the bodies were discovered, the bankbook and cash card would no longer be usable. They would have killed several people for nothing.
Itagaki agreed. “The case is a strang
e mix of planning and leaving things to chance. It's incredibly clumsy. And what they did next was frankly bizarre.”
The reason the son was working weekends at his friend's restaurant was that it was so busy. He was generally meant to knock off at ten, but often had to do overtime until eleven or so. In that case, he would always phone home to let them know, and the restaurant owner or one of the employees would take him home.
“As I said, this restaurant belonged to the family of the son's friend. Both families knew each other well and were on close terms. Therefore the parents were okay about letting their son work there, and didn't feel it was an imposition to have the restaurant owner give their son a lift home.”
The night of the murders, the son had had to work late. “He called home just before ten,” Itagaki went on. “He later told police that when he heard the answerphone kick in, he thought that maybe everyone had gone out for dinner, so he left a message saying his friend's father would be seeing him home. The gang heard this, and freaked out.”
Shigeko frowned. “Didn't they think of killing both the son and the friend's father?”
“Of course they considered it. But then what would have happened?” Itagaki shrugged. “If the friend's father hadn't come home soon, someone would probably have come looking for him. Would the gang have to kill them, too? There would be no end to it.”
“I guess.”
“So they decided to cut and run. They simply left everything as it was and fled.”
Shigeko stared at him. “As it was? You mean they just left the bodies there?”
“Yep. They didn't even try to hide their tracks─they just dropped everything and ran, making so much noise that even the neighbors heard them. It would be funny if it wasn't so awful.”