“If there aren’t any questions, I’ll move on. The last cut wound to be inflicted was made after death. It extends from the solar plexus down to the hip region. It’s nine and a half centimeters deep and thirty-six centimeters long. This cut was made by a blade of a certain thickness, such as a jackknife, possibly a broad-bladed carving knife. The knife was thrust deep into the solar plexus, then slowly pulled down at a uniform depth toward the hip, slicing the victim open. The damage inside the wound is quite messy, suggesting that whoever did it used both hands and brought all their strength to bear to open up the abdomen the full thirty-six centimeters. Any questions?”
Reiko’s hand shot up. Hashizume signaled for her to go ahead.
“This slicing open of the abdomen—was that all it was?”
Hashizume looked puzzled. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m wondering whether the victim might have had something concealed inside his stomach—something that the perpetrator wanted. As a result of the torture, the victim didn’t just get his throat cut, he also had his stomach sliced open. Given that, my guess is that the perpetrator rummaged around inside the wound after opening him up.”
Hashizume scanned the sheaf of documents in his hand. On the other side of the room, a young detective clapped his hands to his mouth. An attack of nausea brought on by an over-vivid imagination? Officer Otsuka, who was sitting beside him, patted the youngster sympathetically on the back.
“I can’t see any such findings in the report. If anything like that had happened, you can be sure it would have been mentioned. No, if it’s not here in black and white, then that’s not how it went down.”
Hashizume was probably right. If anyone had rummaged around inside the victim after slicing him open, it would definitely have made it into the autopsy report.
“Thank you, sir.”
Reiko sat back down. Hashizume turned to the next page of the report.
“Next up are the contusions and abrasions on the wrists. A minute quantity of adhesive residue was detected on the skin of the wrists. It’s not yet one hundred percent certain, but we suspect that his wrists were held in place using packaging tape. We’re guessing that the tape got all bunched up, either because the victim struggled or because he tried to tear it off. That caused bruises and abrasions roughly one centimeter wide on the backs of both wrists. From this we can conclude that the victim’s wrists were tied and that he was completely immobilized as he was beaten through a sheet of glass, before his throat was cut from behind.… That brings the autopsy results to an end. Any more questions?”
No hands went up.
“Good. Next is Forensics. Let’s start with the representative of the Metropolitan Police.”
Someone from Forensics seated behind Reiko rose to his feet. It was Lieutenant Komine.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll start with the blue vinyl sheeting in which the body was wrapped. It’s sheeting of a kind that’s frequently used on construction sites; the manufacturer is a firm called Moniwa Building Materials Ltd. We’ve tracked them down to Kawasaki. There are seven different sets of fingerprints on the sheeting: one belongs to the victim; none of the other six are on record. Then there’s the plastic string. We’re still trying to track down the manufacturer.”
Komine paused a moment. “Unfortunately, we haven’t yet been able to identify the victim. There are signs he’d had work done on his teeth, so we’ve sent in a search request. The results should be forthcoming in the next day or two.… Let’s move on to the crime scene and its immediate environs.”
Komine and the top forensics guy from the local precinct reported their findings. Apparently, they hadn’t discovered any significant evidence. Several items they’d found had been forwarded to the forensics lab, and data was expected either tomorrow or the day after. With that, the interim forensics report was out of the way.
“Next is the house-to-house. Sector 1.”
“Yes, sir.”
Reiko got to her feet. She would have liked a microphone but was going to have to make do with her natural voice.
“We made house-to-house inquiries in the immediate vicinity of the crime scene. The person who discovered the body was a Mrs. Yasuko Hirata, a housewife. Her house directly overlooks the crime scene. At six o’clock this morning, from her bedroom on the second floor, Mrs. Hirata noticed the blue vinyl sheeting in which the body was wrapped. At the time, she erroneously assumed that it was illegally dumped garbage and didn’t bother to phone it in. The next time it caught her eye was a little after eleven o’clock when she accompanied her father-in-law to the Mizumoto Park bus stop. On her way home, she noticed that the bundle was human shaped and called the police at eleven thirty. Her account tallies with the report of Sergeant Arai, who was first on the scene.
“Mrs. Hirata didn’t notice the bundle yesterday; nor did she notice any suspicious noises or vehicles in the course of last night. I just got off the phone with her now. Both her husband, Mikio, who’s now home from work, and Yasujiro, her father-in-law, stated that they noticed the bundle this morning, but had nothing further to add to that fact. The other member of the Hirata household is Masayuki, the second son, a university student who lives at home. He’s still out, and I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. I intend to pay the Hiratas another visit in the near future.”
Reiko went on to report on the other houses in her sector. Her testimony was pretty much identical for all of them. And it wasn’t just her; the reports from all the other house-to-house teams were equally disappointing.
None of the local residents heard anything or saw any suspicious vehicles during the night. And while many of them had noticed the blue bundle in the morning, they’d all walked past it without an inkling that there was a body inside.
It was strange. Dumping a body in a place where the local residents were guaranteed to notice it simply didn’t make any sense. Why did the perpetrator wrap up the body so carefully only to leave it in such a half-assed location? Did he want it to be found? That was something they couldn’t really know until the body had been identified. It seemed pretty certain that the victim wasn’t a local resident. No one had gone missing since Sunday night; at least, no one from the houses they’d visited so far. Could the victim have some other sort of connection to the neighborhood? At this stage all they could do was cross their fingers and hope the victim had gotten his dental work done somewhere in Tokyo.
They were almost done. For the first meeting on a case, it had been on the short side. That was largely due to the lack of any worthwhile physical evidence or testimony.
Wada, the chief of Homicide, took the microphone to bring the meeting to an end.
“At the moment we don’t have a clear idea about anything—the victim’s identity, the purpose of the crime, or the perpetrator’s motive. But given the premeditated and bizarre method of this killing, it’s reasonable to assume that the perpetrator could commit a similar crime for a second, even a third time. Preventing that is the minimum we can do. Starting tomorrow, I want all of you to work together as a close-knit team so we can solve this case fast. Every day, every minute, every second counts.… Okay, that’s it for today.”
Director Hashizume gave the order, “Attention! Bow! Dismissed.”
The meeting was officially over.
* * *
Reiko was gathering up her stuff when Kikuta called to her from one row back.
“How ’bout a quick drink, boss?”
“Nice idea. Why not?”
Reiko caught the eye of Captain Imaizumi at the front of the room and mimed tipping a glass. Imaizumi frowned and waved her suggestion away.
What can you expect from a man who’s recovering from a stomach ulcer?
Reiko gave a crisp little bow and turned from Imaizumi to Ishikura.
“Hey, Tamotsu, you should come out with us every once in a while.”
Three of the four men in Himekawa’s squad were young. Tamotsu Ishikura was the exception. Despite the fact that h
e was pushing fifty, he was a valuable member of the team. His age and his experience made him slightly harder to manage than Otsuka or Yuda but were also the reasons Reiko wanted to go out drinking with him. At the end of the day, he was on her team too. She wanted the chance to speak to him frankly, exactly like she did with the young members of her team.
“I’d like to. Today’s a bit difficult, though. This place is pretty close to where I live. It’s an opportunity for me to get home early for a change.”
The flesh on Tamotsu’s burly back bulged as he bent forward in an apologetic bow.
“No problem, Tamotsu. You live in Ishikawa, don’t you?”
Reiko knew that Tamotsu had a daughter at university and a son in middle school. She also knew that the son had a truancy problem and that the daughter was getting antsy about landing a job after graduation. Reiko would have preferred to have learned all this from Ishikura himself, rather than from Kikuta, who was her source, but at least she had an idea of the man’s family situation. She certainly didn’t intend to put any extra pressure on him.
“All right then, see you tomorrow. Good night.” Ishikura bowed several times, bundled his jacket under his arm, and dashed out of the room.
“In the circumstances,” blurted out Ioka, “I’ll be happy to take Ishikura’s place.”
“Hey hey hey, Ioka. This way.”
Otsuka grabbed one of Ioka’s arms from behind.
“I don’t remember inviting you two to join us!” Ioka looked at Otsuka and Yuda superciliously.
Yuda followed Otsuka’s lead and grabbed hold of Ioka’s other arm. “We’ve got other plans.”
“Other plans? Why?”
Yuda and Otsuka ignored Reiko’s question.
“But I want to go out with my sweet Reiko—”
Kikuta’s eyebrows shot up.
Otsuka put his other arm around Ioka’s shoulders. “Don’t be so unfriendly, Ioka. We’re buddies. Didn’t we all get soaked together on that rainy stakeout in Setagaya?”
“It’s not like I wanted to get wet with you.”
“Otsuka’s right, Ioka. The three of us really ought to go for a drink,” said Yuda, playing his part in the double act.
“What’s going on here?” stammered Ioka.
“Don’t you worry. Come on, let’s go,” Otsuka said
“Just a minute,” protested Ioka.
“It’s okay, I’ll bring your bag for you,” Yuda added.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Neither Kikuta nor Reiko said a word.
One on either side, Yuda and Otsuka frog-marched Ioka backward out of the room. Going down the stairs like that could be risky, thought Reiko.
“Maybe I’ll … come with you.” Kikuta was visibly tense. Reiko wasn’t stupid. She knew a setup when it was staring her in the face. Was this Otsuka and Yuda’s scheme, or were Ishikura and Captain Imaizumi in on it too?
“Great. Shall we go then? It’s just the two of us,” said Reiko, looking Kikuta in the eye. He swallowed nervously. She could have sworn that there was the hint of a blush on his cheeks.
* * *
They finally agreed to go to a local chain bar and restaurant.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
They downed the first round of beers like contestants in a drinking competition. After a while, a few small food dishes appeared on the table, along with a second set of beers.
“By the way, that date you got set up on—how did it go?” asked Kikuta, carefully avoiding eye contact.
Reiko’s mouth turned down at the corners. She glared at him.
“Are you going to give me a hard time about that too? What is it with you all? Why’s everyone in such a hurry to marry me off?”
“What’s this ‘you too’ business?”
Reiko didn’t bother to reply. She just scowled at Kikuta as he squeezed edamame out of the pod.
“Ah,” he murmured. “Is Dr. Kunioku putting pressure on you?”
Kikuta’s square jaw crushed the beans and his cheeks bulged with the seaweed salad—which Reiko had ordered. His thick neck with its prominent Adam’s apple seemed able to swallow limitless quantities of whatever he poured down it. Reiko was used to Kikuta’s heroic appetites; normally she’d have admired his way of eating as a sign of manly vigor. Now, though, it looked more like cowardice: he was shoving stuff into his mouth to avoid having to say anything.
What are you trying to tell me?
Reiko wasn’t a child and she wasn’t a fool. She could tell what a clumsy, down-to-earth fellow like Kikuta was feeling, even if he didn’t say it out loud. Still, she didn’t want him using her ability to intuit his feelings as an excuse for not putting them into words. Some women might be okay with that; Reiko definitely was not. She wanted him to make the effort to articulate what he felt. The way he projected a vague sense of wanting to say something only to take refuge in food, beer, and, finally, shoptalk, drove her crazy.
What do you really want?
Reiko had no problem with people being uncommunicative at work. God knows, she could be uncommunicative herself! But for Kikuta to invite her for a drink after work only to wolf down everything on the table without even trying to tell her that he liked her—it was unforgivable! Well, maybe “unforgivable” was a bit on the arrogant side. She could see why he was behaving the way he was, but it still raised the question of why he’d arranged for them to go out alone together in the first place.
This wasn’t the first time, but it was always the same. Kikuta would invite her out right after she’d been on one of those meet-a-potential-husband dates. If he didn’t like her going on them, why didn’t he come out and say so? If he liked her, he should damn well show her that he liked her. If he’d just say the word, then …
Reiko waggled her empty beer tankard at a passing waiter. As if responding to a signal, Kikuta muttered, “The guy must have been tortured.”
There it was: the same old pattern. Maybe she was partly to blame: she knew what he was doing but still played along. The instant Kikuta began talking about work, her irritation at his lack of candor slipped away like sand through her fingers. In her mind’s eye, she’d already summoned up a full diagram of the corpse. The new data from the evening meeting floated alongside it like the annotations on a slide.
“I wonder…” she replied thoughtfully, her brow furrowed and her lips moving without her willing them to do so. “Until we’ve identified the victim, there’s no point in debating the whole torture-or-not question. The thing that really bothers me is that thirty-centimeter-long cut in the abdomen. I can’t figure out what it means.”
“Yeah. You brought that up in the meeting.”
Kikuta polished off his fourth mug of beer.
“The phrase you used was so gross. What was it? ‘Rooting around in the wound’?”
“Not true. I said ‘rummaging around.’”
Reiko finished her third beer.
“Pretty graphic either way. That kid who almost puked—you know who he is?”
“The kid who’s partnered up with Otsuka? Uh-uh. No idea.”
“Heard his dad’s the director of Tokyo’s Third District.”
The Third District Headquarters administered three wards—Shibuya, Meguro, and Setagaya. A district director had the rank of chief superintendent, which placed him close to the top of the police bureaucracy. His son would have all sorts of advantages.
“Kid’s on the management fast track then?”
“You betcha. Graduated from the National Police Academy. Must be doing his on-the-job training here.”
Kikuta broke into one of his trademark wry grins. Reiko tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s a bit weird, though. I mean, why drop a fast-track glory boy right into the thick of it? He’s only going to stick around here for three months or so. All trainees have to do is to rotate through a certain number of departments.”
“I know the answer to that one. Kid was babbling about it being ‘valuable ex
perience.’”
“What crap! Anyway, if dry heaving in meetings is the best he can do, he’s a no-hoper.”
“Yeah! I hear you.”
Reiko suddenly realized that Kikuta was looking straight at her. Typical! The man had no trouble making eye contact when they were talking about work. His eyes had been swimming all over the place when he asked her about her recent date, but now he was staring at Reiko intently enough to knock her backward. That was the look she wanted him to have when he came out and told her he liked her. With that level of intensity, she’d have no trouble telling him that she liked him too.…
Unfortunately, the chances of Kikuta picking up on how she felt were less than zero.
“That fast-track program’s really something, y’know. A young kid like that, and he’s already a lieutenant.”
Reiko was so frustrated that she wanted to sweep all the dishes Kikuta had eaten his way through onto the floor.
Look at how much you’ve eaten! Don’t tell me you expect me to go halves on this!
The night was getting late. Outside all was quiet in Kanamachi.
4
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 13
After having the overall thrust of the investigation laid out at the morning meeting, Reiko caught a taxi in front of the Kameari police station. She reached the crime scene at 9:30. She was just getting ready to resume the house-to-house inquiries when her cell phone buzzed. The order was short and sweet: get back to task force HQ urgently.
She smiled sardonically as she returned her phone to her pocket. “We’ve got to turn round and go straight back.”
“Don’t know why we bothered coming in the first place!” Ioka snorted.
“They’ve identified the body. Amazing what you can do with dental work.”
Ioka pumped his fist in triumph. “Amen to that. Not sorry to kiss this neighborhood canvass good-bye. It’s going nowhere.”
“Come on. You know this sort of legwork can generate valuable leads.”
Despite her chiding of Ioka, Reiko felt like punching the air too.
She was fairly sure in this particular case that canvassing the neighborhood was a waste of time. The careful planning of the crime hinted at more than the usual complexity. Wada, the chief of Homicide, had described it as “bizarre,” but Reiko detected an intensity of purpose that went well beyond bizarre. She could see it in the meticulous way the body was wrapped in the plastic sheeting and in the fact that no one who lived nearby had heard or seen anything suspicious. Reiko was certain that they could keep canvassing the neighborhood till the cows came home, but ultimately they weren’t going to make any discoveries here. Reiko had no qualms about throwing in the towel. It was round one to the perpetrator.
The Silent Dead Page 4