Seiji was a bit bewildered by her behavior.
For half a year, they hadn’t enjoyed that kind of intimacy. There was no specific reason, but Seiji had been awfully busy since opening the new bar, and Kyoko had been tired from Nozomi’s childcare as well as other things, and they’d naturally stopped being together physically.
It was the first time, ever, that Kyoko had initiated it with such passion, though.
It’d been a while, and his body ached to hold her, but thanks to his anxiety over Ohta, he couldn’t get in the mood.
“Sorry … I’m tired today …”
Seiji detached himself from Kyoko and pretended to sleep.
“I wonder what it’s like being a shut-in for ten years …” Nagamine couldn’t help muttering. He looked at Natsume, who was in the driver’s seat.
“I wonder, too. It might be like being in prison … Maybe it’s even lonelier.”
At his partner’s reply, Nagamine faced forward again and let out a small sigh.
They were three days into the investigation but hadn’t made much progress.
No matter how much they looked into Toru Ohta’s contacts, no acquaintances with a motive to kill surfaced. The guy didn’t even have a cellphone. Why had Ohta, who lived mostly refusing to make contact with anything outside his room, been murdered?
They had even thought of it from the perspective of a robbery, but it was difficult to rule out some tie to the assailant case from ten years ago.
“It seems to be over there.”
He looked to where Natsume pointed and saw a signboard on the first floor of a building. “Direct Staff Service”: the business handled direct-mail advertisements to households.
According to their canvassing of nearby residents, no suspicious person had been witnessed visiting Ohta’s house. The investigators were conducting an exhaustive search of door-to-door and newspaper delivery services, among other leads.
Natsume and Nagamine got out of the car and went to visit the company. They stated the purpose of their visit to a man who said he was the supervisor.
“That area’s postings are handled by a woman called Ms. Fujimoto,” the supervisor told them after sifting through some documents.
“Where is she now?” Nagamine asked.
“Who knows. We asked her to work today, but there isn’t a specific mailing time …”
“Please tell us her contact info.”
As they approached the convenience store, they saw a woman standing in the parking lot.
Pulling up there, Nagamine opened the car door and greeted the woman.
“Are you Ms. Fujimoto?” he asked.
The woman nodded, looking slightly bewildered.
“Sorry for bothering you while you’re working. We’re from the police. Would you talk to us inside the car?” he said, showing her his badge.
Fujimoto got into the back seat. They had gotten her cellphone number from the supervisor at Direct Staff Service and arranged to meet at a convenience store near the Ohta residence. Nagamine immediately laid out a map of the neighborhood and summarized their business to her.
“I did make deliveries in the area that day … but I don’t think I saw any suspicious people,” she answered.
“Sorry, but could you actually come to the house now?”
They drove the car out of the lot and towards Ohta’s house.
“It’s here …”
They got out of the car and stood in front of the residence. Nagamine asked for her impression.
“I did come here. That reminds me, I saw a woman visiting around that time.”
“A woman?”
“Yes … a man opened the door and invited her in. It almost seemed like he was dragging her in, grinning.”
“Was it this man?”
They showed her a photo of Toru Ohta, and she nodded yes.
“Around what time was this?”
“It was … after one, I think. I don’t remember the specific time … but it was between one and two.”
Slightly before the estimated time of death. Nagamine, unable to hold back his excitement, leaned forward a little as he asked, “What kind of woman was she?”
“She was young and pretty. This might be rude, but the man seemed a little gross and … I remember very briefly wondering what kind of relationship they could possibly have.”
At the evening investigation meeting, the forensics personnel stood up and started giving their report.
“First, we’d like to share that we found DNA on the victim’s body and genitalia that was not his.”
In that case, Toru Ohta might have had intercourse with a woman before being murdered.
Nagamine remembered what Fujimoto had said earlier. Shortly before the estimated hour of the crime, Ohta had let a young and pretty woman into his home. What sort, though? Perhaps it was rude, just as Fujimoto had said, but Nagamine couldn’t imagine Ohta having that kind of relationship with a woman. She might have been a sex worker.
“Continuing on, Toru Ohta’s DNA matched that from the glove used in the assailant case ten years ago. We also confirmed the bloodstains on the hammer to be from Emi Natsume and Yasuko Toda.”
This set off a clamor in the hall.
Nagamine glanced at Natsume, who was sitting next to him. Natsume wore a taut expression and had his gaze fixed straight ahead to conceal any distress he might be feeling.
The course of action that the investigation section chief announced for the next day onwards took the forensics report into account.
First, they’d continue to pursue the robbery line and leads on Toru Ohta’s contacts. In addition, they were to look into the assailant case victims’ families acting on their grudge; the chance that Ohta had an accomplice; and the possibility that he might have been blackmailed with those photos.
It was the worst development imaginable, Nagamine thought.
From here on out, Natsume would be putting his efforts into apprehending the murderer of the perp who’d assaulted his daughter. Moreover, it required targeting a family who had been hurt, like his own, and whose child had died.
Would Natsume really be able to keep his cool like he’d said?
When the investigation meeting ended, Nagamine was called over by Yabusawa.
“Starting tomorrow, you’ll look into Yasuko Toda’s relatives,” Yabusawa said, his tone bitter.
“Yes.”
“You, though, can’t get on his wavelength,” cautioned Yabusawa, no doubt referring to Natsume.
“Understood.”
“Don’t you feel reluctant?” Nagamine asked.
Natsume, who was in the driver’s seat, glanced at him. “About what?”
“We’re going to see people who’re in a position similar to yours. What’s more, you need to suspect them.”
Natsume and his wife Minayo’s alibis had been confirmed the day before; he’d been at the East Ikebukuro precinct investigation section, and his wife had been visiting their daughter’s hospital. Other investigators were confirming Minayo’s family’s alibis as they spoke. Natsume was an only child, and apparently his parents had passed away in a traffic accident when he was young.
“I asked for it,” Natsume let drop.
“You did?”
“I requested the station chief to put me on investigating the other victim’s family if Toru Ohta turned out to be the culprit of the assailant case.”
“Oh? So then …”
“When I asked him to consider the work I’ve done up until now, he said he understood.”
Wow—Nagamine understood why Yabusawa had had such a bitter look assigning the task to them.
“I have one thing to add to our conversation from the other day.”
“What …”
“I was wrong when I promised you that my emotions wouldn’t interfere even if the victims’ relatives ended up being suspects.”
“Wrong?”
“If it was the victim’s family … I can’t say that I don’t sympat
hize. I do, as someone who suffered the same sorrow. But I’d never forgive the crime it made them commit.”
Nagamine couldn’t take his eyes off of Natsume’s profile for some time.
Yasuko Toda’s parents lived in a house in Nakano. Ten years ago, they had been living in Nerima; perhaps the trauma of the case had made them move away.
Facing the Todas’ doorbell, Nagamine hesitated a little.
Having investigated the case back then, he’d interviewed Yasuko’s family about many things. He remembered how the parents and the high school sister had wept. To think that he’d meet them again under such circumstances …
“This is the police,” he said, pressing the bell.
The door opened to a woman peeking her head out. It was Yasuko’s mother. He remembered her as having jet-black hair, but now, a decade later, her hair was completely white.
“What does the police …” she began, perturbed. Then she seemed to recognize Nagamine. “You’re the detective from back then …”
“It’s been a very long time.”
“It’s the detective from the case … honey!” she hollered, her face changing color, and the father came out from the back. He had also grayed and wrinkled to an unthinkable extent over the long days and months.
“Actually, we think we may have identified the assailant from the case ten years ago,” Nagamine told them.
The couple looked at each other in surprise.
“What kind of person was it?!” the father demanded, looking ready to pounce on him.
“It was someone living in the neighborhood back then named Toru Ohta. Do you know him?”
It seemed the husband didn’t. His wife, however, mumbled the name and eventually looked back at Nagamine.
“Toru Ohta … It can’t be … The boy who was in the same middle school as Kyoko?”
“That’s right.”
When Nagamine nodded, the mother looked like she might collapse on the spot, all of her strength gone. Her husband quickly caught her.
“Why would he … why would that boy do that?! He was in the same cram school as Kyoko and even came over and played with Yasuko …”
The mother started crying madly.
“Toru Ohta was murdered this Wednesday. We are investigating the case,” Natsume said, stepping forward, as though to take on the most unpleasant part.
“Murdered?” the father asked, his eyes opening wide.
“Yes. I am very sorry, but we would like to know where you were Wednesday, from afternoon to evening.”
“You think we killed him?” There was anger in the father’s voice.
“No, that’s not it. We just need to check,” Natsume replied, holding fast.
The two reluctantly gave their alibis. The father said he’d been at his workplace in Marunouchi except during lunch break. The mother had apparently been at home the whole time, but around three, a neighbor had come to visit and they’d had tea together for some time, so it was nearly impossible for her to be the culprit.
“Does your daughter live here?”
“Our daughter got married.”
“Could you please tell us where she lives?”
When the mother gave their daughter’s address and the husband’s name, Natsume’s expression changed a shade.
At the sound of the doorbell, Kyoko walked over to the interphone.
As Seiji watched, her expression grew grimmer.
“Who is it?” he asked after she was done talking.
“The police … I wonder why.”
She looked anxious as she headed to the front entrance.
No—could they be coming to arrest him?
Although his body was frozen with terror, he couldn’t let Kyoko face them alone. Seiji took a deep breath and headed to the entrance.
Natsume and Nagamine, who’d also come to his bar, stood outside the door. Back then Nagamine had taken the lead, but this time it was Natsume who stood in the front facing Kyoko.
“Sorry for bothering you at a busy time. You may know already, but we’re investigating Mr. Ohta’s case. We would like to ask you some questions.”
Seeing Natsume’s expression, Seiji relaxed a little. They didn’t appear to be here to arrest him, at least not right now.
“Yes … Such a thing happening to my former classmate … I’d like to help in any way I can,” Kyoko answered.
Natsume proceeded to ask much the same questions that had been put to Seiji at the bar. When was the last time she’d seen Ohta? Could she think of anyone with a grudge against him?
The last time she’d seen Ohta was at the reunion, she replied, and she didn’t know anyone who had a grudge against him, not having known him all that well.
“Well, this is something we ask everyone, but where were you on Wednesday between one o’clock in the afternoon and four o’clock?”
“That day I must have … had my mom look after my daughter, and gone out to do grocery shopping.” Kyoko gave a department store’s name, apparently remembering where.
“I see.”
Natsume’s expression unexpectedly softened. Wondering why, Seiji turned around to find Nozomi walking towards them.
“Nozomi …” Seiji picked up his daughter.
“So your name is Nozomi. I wonder how old you are?”
“Two.”
Natsume reached out his hand and tenderly caressed Nozomi’s head. He seemed to be examining her hair ornament.
“That’s a cute hair ornament. Did your mom make it?”
Kyoko answered, “Yes. It’s just cheap beads, though.”
“You’re quite skilled. I’d love for you to make one for my daughter. Did you also happen to make this one?”
Natsume pulled a hair ornament out of his pocket and handed it to Kyoko.
As she stared at the hair ornament, she seemed to be holding back tears.
“Yes … I made that for Yasuko …” she squeezed out the words, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her tears spilled out.
“Why do you have that?” Seiji asked.
“There’s something we need to report to you. We believe we may have identified the culprit who attacked Yasuko. It was Mr. Toru Ohta, who has been murdered.”
At those words, Seiji looked at Natsume in shock. “You’re kidding …”
He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“The DNA gathered from the things the culprit left at the crime scene where he attacked Yasuko matched Mr. Ohta’s. It seems there’s no mistake he was the one who killed Yasuko.”
When Seiji looked over at Kyoko, she was gazing at Natsume with a dumbfounded expression as well.
“As a result, we need to trouble your parents, unfortunately. They might be shocked if we contacted them out of the blue. Would you be kind enough to give them a heads-up?”
“I understand,” Kyoko nodded.
“With that, excuse us.”
Natsume made a small wave at Nozomi. His eyes looked somewhat lonely, Seiji thought.
The moment the door shut, his anger at Ohta made his body shake. Perhaps sensing his rage, Nozomi, whom he held at his chest, started crying.
“Give her to me.”
Kyoko held Nozomi in his stead.
Why had Ohta copycatted him and attacked Yasuko?
He knew right away. It was revenge against Seiji. Ohta must have attacked the family of the one person Seiji had been close to, just to fan his guilt. So he could never come near Kyoko again. He couldn’t think of any other reason.
To think you’d get married to Kyoko, of all people—
Remembering Ohta’s smirk, he felt like the blood in his entire body was freezing over.
It was terrible … Yasuko hadn’t been murdered by chance, it was all Seji’s fault.
“That detective … I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before,” Kyoko muttered.
“He was the father of the first victim.”
Kyoko looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Sei, do you kn
ow that man?”
“Yes … he looked after me a bit once upon a time.”
“Looked after … at the police?”
“No, back then, he was my judiciary technical officer at juvie.”
“And his daughter is now …”
“Apparently, she’s been in a hospital ever since. She became a vegetable.”
Looking at his daughter as his wife held her, he desperately held back his brimming tears.
At the sound of the bar door opening, Seiji lifted his face.
Natsume lightly raised his hand and came in. “Good evening. Are you still open?”
“Yes …”
If he could, he didn’t want to see Natsume, but he had no reason to turn him down.
Natsume sat in the middle of the empty counter. Trying not to peer too much into the man’s eyes, Seiji placed a coaster in front of his guest.
“What would you like?”
“Right … how about a bourbon soda. I can’t get too drunk.”
Seiji took a glass from the shelf behind him and filled it with ice. He poured in bourbon and soda, mixed them, and placed it in front of Natsume.
The detective raised the glass and sipped.
Unable to bear the silence, Seiji joked, “If you can loaf around at a place like this, the investigation must be going well.”
“Not so. My workplace is close, so it’s just a nightcap.”
Seiji was left with nothing in his hands, so he turned his back to Natsume and started polishing the bottles on the shelf.
“And I also wanted to come here privately once. It’s a nice bar.”
“Thank you very much,” Seiji accepted with no intonation.
“You had the strength to pave your future.”
At those words, he couldn’t but turn around.
Natsume was gazing at him with a wan smile. The man seemed genuinely glad, and Seiji’s chest ached relentlessly.
“Did you become a detective because of what happened to your daughter?”
“Yeah …”
“Then your goal’s been fulfilled since you found the culprit who attacked her. Too bad you couldn’t hurt him with your own hands …” Natsume stared at him intently at this. “Wouldn’t it be best if you went back to your old job?”
He thought that being a detective didn’t suit Natsume. Or rather, he didn’t want Natsume to be doing this type of work. Digging up people’s lies, incurring hatred while pursuing suspects, all that didn’t suit him. In the same way Natsume had done for him, he wanted the man to continue to be someone who approached people laid low with despair and pointed out the correct path.
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