“What do you mean?”
“You could look at it this way. This child, Yuji Nakamura, could be considered simultaneously a potential suspect and also the second victim in this case, right?”
“What?” Ishida narrowed his eyes and lowered his eyelids. It wasn’t a look of anger but rather confusion. “Victim? Are you saying the murderer had his sights on him next?”
“It’s absolutely possible. I’m not a criminologist, nor have I done any investigating, so this is all pure conjecture, but…” Shizue looked at the ceiling. Whenever she spoke a small red light next to the mic would turn on. She was being recorded.
The police chief stroked his hair as if to disguise his confusion. “Please go on.”
“For example, couldn’t we assume Nakamura was as much a target as the first victim? Even if the account of his actions rings false, it might not be to hide criminal behavior. Doesn’t that happen?”
“Yes, but—”
“If all the other murder victims were girls from another neighborhood, all this information changes, but this time the victim, Ryu Kawabata, was the same age and sex as Yuji Nakamura. Furthermore they are known to have had real contact. They clearly had commonalities.”
“I can see that,” Kunugi said.
“In which case, the killer’s motive against Ryu Kawabata becomes problematic,” Kunugi said.
“It doesn’t matter the motive,” Shizue countered. “Investigating motives is like improving your odds gambling. It’s still a gamble. It serves no purpose. Profiling is the same. It’s nothing more than astrology.”
“There are scientific foundations for profiling.”
“No there aren’t,” Shizue retorted coolly.
Kunugi strained at the neck.
“I don’t mean to state the obvious, but going forward I’d like for you to choose methods that exclude such suspicious fallacies.”
“Fallacies…”
“Superstition. In this case too we’re only looking at the facts. The victim and the person we know to have been with him shared commonalities. The murderer for some reason killed only one of the two similar boys. This is a fact. Right?”
Ishida nodded.
“It’s meaningless to think about psychological aberrations when determining what led the murderer to make this choice. The interpretation may be accurate, but it also takes away absolute certainty. You hinge on one of those uncertain elements and leave yourself with very few alternatives. First, that Nakamura was in fact not there.”
“The likelihood of that is very low.”
“Just low. Not impossible. One more thing. Whether he was there or not, he was not killed. The police understand that much, right?”
“Making Yuji Nakamura the obvious killer.”
“That’s not the police’s position, Kunugi,” Ishida said.
“It’s not my position either. I’ll repeat myself, but this is just one of the possibilities,” Shizue said.
“Right. Just one of the many possibilities. That Yuji Nakamura was not killed because he is the culprit. It’s an alternative theory based purely on the evidence. However, these aren’t the only answers. He might have been hiding somewhere; he could have been attacked but rescued somehow. Or…the killer might have targeted just Kawabata and not even noticed Nakamura. Technically speaking, a possibility is any potential, non-contradictory, occurrence. It’s an alternative. In that sense there are endless possibilities. His being a suspect is just one. But…”
Shizue looked up at the mic in the ceiling again.
“If Nakamura is the criminal, the circumstances under which you’ve marked him offer very little certainty, and if another crime occurs, that certitude goes up.”
“That’s true.”
“But. Conversely, if Nakamura is considered a victim, the present culprit remains at large, and the crime becomes more serious. That’s why it’s so important the police protect him. The police department’s duty is not just to mine data and catch criminals, now is it?”
Ishida’s expression tightened.
Kunugi sought meaning in that face. “Chief, this might not be for me to say, but I think she’s right. Because—”
“No, I agree,” Ishida interrupted Kunugi. “Since I received your notice last night, I’ve assigned many more investigators to the search for Yuji Nakamura. But, Ms. Fuwa…” Ishida faced Shizue, his posture now open and candid. “Your opinions have been very fruitful. This is embarrassing for me, but we hadn’t considered that because the victim, Kawabata, and Nakamura had so much in common that the latter could have been another victim. Whether witness or culprit, Nakamura is likely one or the other. Frankly, we still can’t determine what relationship these two had.”
“Shima had nothing?”
“Counselor Shima had nothing positive to add.”
“Was she uncooperative?”
That’s just how she is.
“She cooperated, but all she knew was that the two had shared interests in twentieth century cel animation, and that the two of them had shared files on the subject. We didn’t need to hear that from a counselor of course, as it was all in their terminals.”
“What other information do you have?”
“I can’t divulge that information without guardian consent.”
“I see.”
That was probably good.
Still…
“Shima had nothing to add, then?”
Of course she didn’t.
Ishida nodded.
“That’s why we needed to go ahead and mine the data on these children. Do you understand now?”
“These are two different…”
Issues. No. Were they the same problem? Shizue was confused.
“The data on Nakamura on the disc you brought us—”
“There isn’t any.”
They’d only transferred a third of the database.
“Nakamura’s file and Yuko Yabe’s file are probably not on this disc. We went in alphabetical order. If yesterday’s pace is any guide, we won’t be finished with this for another couple of days. Not to mention, when we have to stop for discussions such as this, it delays us—”
“Two days…”
Ishida looked at the screen. “If we could hurry this up…Wouldn’t it be prudent to have the director of the center brought in on this and add staff to get things moving? This work can be done in parallel processing, so a supplemental staff would be productive. And for what it’s worth, the police can send staff with better background in systems management and operations than our Kunugi here.”
Kunugi furrowed his brow without a word.
“What an astute suggestion…”
Ishida looked up slightly and said in a louder voice, “Subject. As regards Ms. Shizue Fuwa’s discoveries. Requesting increase in staff representatives for swift reprisal of systemwide adolescent data-mining activities. Attention, community center director. Sent from chief investigator on Case 388765. Also requesting R investigating officer, name Ishida, be moved to duties on V investigation. Requesting expert staff on systems management and operations. Location, Area Community Center. Request number, Case file 388765. Over.”
The words appeared on the monitor in front of Ishida. He took notice and tapped his ten-key ID, then hit enter with his index finger.
“It’s done. I should hear back immediately.”
Some things could get done so quickly here.
Yuko Yabe’s investigation hadn’t been taken up yet, probably.
Her parents were apparently being briefed in another room.
At the other end of the terminals, two systems engineers heard of their daughter’s absence and panicked. Back when Shizue had accessed the residence, the possibility of Yabe’s absence being the result of a crime seemed low, but for law-abiding public servants the disappearance of a daughter was already a big event.
The circumstances had changed drastically since they’d returned. They didn’t know what the police were going to call it, but it
had to be called something, and it was impossible to think it wasn’t connected to the larger crime. Though not definitive, this was part of a murder case. When a connection was made from a child’s disappearance to a murder investigation, of course the parents would lose their minds.
Still…
What were they talking about in there? It didn’t seem they were responsive to questions about Yuko.
Yuko Yabe’s guardians didn’t know a lot about her. It wasn’t a matter of deprivation or failing to meet their responsibilities as guardians. They had quite simply not known this girl at all.
The rights of a child…
One could assert that child rights were about protecting their privacy. In other words, acknowledging a child’s rights was about a guardian recognizing that every child had boundaries you could not cross. That was why so many parents knew nothing about their children. That’s probably the correct way, the normal way, Shizue thought. It was nothing new. Shizue’s own parents knew nothing about her. The difference was that parents of the past thought they ought to know everything about their children and pretended to know as much. Everyone used to believe that was the core of parental responsibility.
That meaningless delusion was dead today.
Shizue was about to inquire how the Yabe investigation was going but stopped herself short because there was nothing she could do about it.
Besides…
Counselors had ever so slightly more information on children than their parents, but it didn’t mean they knew the children any better.
Shizue didn’t know anything about Yuko Yabe. She saved information on her and organized it for work only.
One could only know oneself.
No…
Shizue looked at the police department monitor.
This knows everything about everyone.
Humanity had gone from recording history to being recorded by history. No one would remember private citizens, but all of history would be reduced to numbers and signs stored in a place with no address that no one would know about.
Life would be entirely virtual.
Ishida looked at his own monitor.
“I’ve got a response, finally. From the director. Five staff representatives will join you tomorrow at eleven to resume work. I’ll be sending two members well versed in systems operation from my end as well. Your center has sent orders to your monitor, Ms. Fuwa.”
“Excuse me…”
She pulled out her portable monitor and switched it on. As soon as she opened it, her display was filled with emergency instructions. There were commissions purporting to relieve Shizue of her duties as head of youth data copying. When she pressed accept she then received a notice from the prefectural police that it had been decided that a team of highly skilled administrators would be formed. They would wait for a status report to be submitted immediately.
This must be from memory-hair man.
Shizue wordlessly sent the work log she’d prepared the night before.
That should be enough.
“Looks like you won’t have to do this crap anymore,” Ishida said in a manner not befitting him.
Shizue could obviously not know his intentions in saying such a thing, but she thought he was being sarcastic. “Thanks to you. Now I can go back to doing my regular work.”
“I hear counseling is quite a busy job. You can leave now.”
Now she got it. The formal interview was over. Their conversation was no longer being recorded. That was why his tone had changed.
Ishida stood up. Then turning around as if he’d forgotten something, he stopped his gaze on Kunugi.
“Kunugi.”
“Yes,” Kunugi responded childishly.
“I need to get you another job. I can’t just send you back to headquarters. You’ve already been given one warning. You agreed to an easy job and this is what happens? It’s as if none of those lessons had any calculable results.”
“I’m no good at studying,” Kunugi replied.
“That’s not good.”
“Does this mean disciplinary action? Even with our staff shortage?”
“Staff means people who serve a purpose, Kunugi. If you were able to produce a report on Yuji Nakamura or Yuko Yabe I wouldn’t have to cut you from this, but until I get further instructions, maybe you should just request some personal time off.”
Kunugi nodded once and said he’d do as you suggest, sir.
The police logo on his monitor disappeared.
CHAPTER 009
IT WAS HER first time seeing a real live cat.
Hazuki didn’t think it was as cute as it was supposed to be, though it was spry and she couldn’t see it very well.
It was rare to see feral cats, even in the city. Almost every household used to own a cat or a dog in the past, but for some reason there weren’t any more now. You needed a permit to have a pet animal now. Each household required a confirmation of a specific living environment for the particular species in question, and until the permit was issued, owning a pet animal was not allowed.
Therefore the only people who would keep a domesticated animal for fun were those with means.
Still…
Hazuki felt it would be vaguely disgusting to have some animal just moving about at will in your house.
Hazuki had an interest in living things. There was a nature preservation area where animals still lived that she’d always wanted to see. They looked so cute on her monitor—be it in still or moving pictures. But maybe they weren’t like that in real life.
“There are dogs too,” Mio said.
“Dogs?”
“Yes. A species called ‘stray dog.’”
“That’s not a species, I don’t think.”
“I’m not sure either. I’m weak in the nature department. I have no interest in animals. All I know about are turtles and alligators, maybe. And dinosaurs.”
Hazuki was a little shocked.
This genius truly knew nothing about anything in which she had no interest.
The young genius, completely clueless about the animal kingdom, sat on some scrap wood and shook her head from side to side.
“I wonder if this is another kind of preservation area too.”
“Preservation area?”
“Yeah. When you leave the tacky old stuff as is and preserve it,” Mio said, adding, “The old red-light district is unsanitary. It doesn’t clear environmental sanitation standards at all. I think what they want to do is make it more government housing, but the residents won’t consent. Though I hear the residents actually want to demolish the area anyway. It’s sort of a residential thing. There are all these people without money and a lot of unsavory types. A lot of foreigners, a lot of people without ID cards. So of course there are going to be some cats and dogs.”
Another cat darted to the side of a warped building along the windowsill.
Mio widened her eyes at the cat and said, “You know? Look, they have everything out here. All kinds of animals I don’t know anything about.”
“What about wolves?”
Why had she said that?
Hazuki doubted herself just as the word came out of her mouth.
“Wolves?” Mio said in a high-pitched voice and made a bewildered face.
The wind blew.
They were in an empty area of Section C.
“Wolves are extinct,” Ayumi said, her voice vibrant.
She was wearing a suit fitted tightly to her body and an industrial-strength vest, a khaki waist bag, large racing shoes. Leaning on a steel frame.
Ayumi was standing.
“Tsuzuki, what kind of person calls out strangers to a place like this?”
“What kind of person actually shows up?” Mio jumped up, excited, and sprang from the scaffold.
“We also got one idiot just watching.”
Mio nodded at Hazuki.
Ayumi looked down at Hazuki’s feet.
Ayumi said nothing but stared down Mio.
“Y
esterday is yesterday. You barged into someone’s house. Now, less than a day later you call people out in the morning. You’re an anachronism. Not even adults do stupid shit like this.”
“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Mio said, looking up at a stick building in the haze. “Aren’t you bored?”
“I’m not like you, Tsuzuki.”
“Then why’d you come?”
Mio turned around and stood directly in front of Ayumi, arresting her line of sight.
“You came because you wanted to, no? Am I wrong?”
“I came because I was called.”
“Hmph.”
Mio crossed her arms.
“Why’re you playing it off? If you didn’t like being called out, you could have just ignored me. I’m just a minor. I have no authority over anyone. Even if I were a cop, I have no power other than to ask you to come voluntarily. Whether you came or not was up to you entirely. If I were you and I was put off by something someone said, I’d definitely ignore it.
“Definitely,” she repeated.
“And?”
“And?! You come and then blame other people for making you come? That’s not fair. Look, even Makino’s enjoying herself. Aren’t you, Makino?”
Hazuki had gotten excited when she was called. Her blood coursed faster. Her vision blurred; it felt like she was going blind all of a sudden.
Her field of vision contracted.
Two days ago Hazuki had been the ringleader.
You could say it was her actions that had led to this situation.
Mio finding a strange object in her room and determining that it was evidence left by intruders, then thinking to bring it directly to the culprits, had all been triggered by Hazuki’s aberrant actions.
Ayumi turned her eyes away from everything and said, “Tsuzuki. You’re like an extinct species yourself.”
Mio was left speechless for a moment, then said under her breath, Take it easy.
“So what did you want with me?”
“Why didn’t you ask in the first place?” Mio said, scrunching up her face. “I went to Yabe’s after that.”
“You went out there? You’re really bored. You’re like the demon of surprise house visits.”
“I had no choice. There weren’t cops, and I didn’t want to go to three houses in one day either. Only perverts do that. But she doesn’t have a terminal.”
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