by Nick Tanner
In the conundrum in order to win the prize the subject needed to select the right box out of a choice of three. Two boxes were empty. One contained a bar of gold. The subject was asked to make a choice, after which one of the empty boxes was revealed. The subject was then asked whether or not they would like to stick to their original choice or switch. This was the nature of the conundrum. Given this set of circumstances was it better to stick or switch? Inspector Saito could recall the problem and the right answer, an answer that said it was better to switch, but as he walked towards the car he couldn't recall why - something to do with probability, he thought. He wasn't to realise how peculiarly apposite this conundrum was until later the next day.
Consequently when the attack came neither of them were prepared for it.
Out of the cold, darkness Sakamoto unexpectedly appeared, swiftly grabbing hold of Saito’s arm and thrusting it painfully up his back whilst simultaneously forcing him against the car.
‘You’re not looking so self-satisfied and comfortable now, are you Saito san!’ he hissed aggressively into his ear.
‘What the hell are you doing? Are you mad?’
‘I know your little games!’ Sakamoto wrenched Saito’s arm tighter up his back so that he gasped out in pain. ‘And any more little theories you might have about-’
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Despite the existing pain in his ribs Saito did his best to respond to the assault with an elbow to Sakamoto’s face. He succeeded, catching him on the jaw which momentarily forced Sakamoto to relinquish his grip on Saito’s arm. Saito then turned around as swiftly as he could wondering what lunacy had taken hold of Sakamoto whilst also trying to work out if he had any chance of winning this particular scrap. Junsa Saito looked on in shock, unable to move and unable to speak.
For a second time in as many nights Saito found himself squaring up to a man in front of him. Sakamoto lunged forward with a jab but Saito was equal to it and was able to step away. Sakamoto may have been the younger and fitter man but he was no boxer. Saito was injured but had trained enough in his youth. He suddenly felt a growing confidence that he was more than Sakamoto’s equal but he had no desire for this unseemly skirmish to continue.
‘Baka! Sakamoto, you’ll be completely finished after this!’ warned Inspector Saito. ‘Junsa! Are you watching?’
‘I’m already finished thanks to you - you smug bastard!’ Sakamoto lashed out again – missing for a second time. Again Saito stepped to the side, surprised by his own agility – and ability. It made Sakamoto all the more angry and he lunged again. This time Saito used Sakamoto’s own momentum against him as he managed to swivel around and force Sakamoto against the car. Sakamoto turned just in time to receive a smart upper cut to the chin. It sent him reeling.
‘Junsa, quick! Help me!’ He looked back to helpless looking Junsa Saito. Saito landed two more punches which sent Sakamoto staggering back across the car park and into Junsa Saito's path. With his anger now intensified and inflamed by this additional humiliation, with blood buzzing around his head that clouded any remaining logic, he swivelled as he staggered and lunged this time at Junsa Saito. He grabbed her as she herself turned, wrapping his arms around her and attempting to wrestle her to the floor.
Junsa Saito managed to thrust her own arms back, digging her elbows into Sakamoto. He gasped in pain and she turned quickly, chopped both her arms quickly and with genuine thrust against either side of Sakamoto's head in an attempt to damage his eardrums and disorientate him further. Sakamoto stumbled back, realizing in the haze that he'd bitten off more than he could chew, even with Junsa Saito, when he looked up and saw her leaping through the air landing a heavy drop kick to the centre of his chest. He dropped to the floor and smashed his skull on the hard concrete.
‘Should I call for extra support?’ Junsa Saito shouted to Inspector Saito.
‘I've done it. Support is on its way. But I think we’ve got the beating of him, don’t you?’ Inspector Saito peered at Sakamoto who seemed to be completely out cold.
‘I didn’t know I had it in me,’ he said feeling his knuckles. 'And you! Wow! What was that? What an amazingly surprising package you are!'
Junsa Saito looked modestly back.
'I’ll need you to file a report on this incident straight away, though, when you've recovered. Just in case Sakamoto attempts to twist reality and fabricates his own version of events.’
Two minutes later a posse of uniformed officers rushed into the car park just as Sakamoto came round. They dragged him to his feet, slapped handcuffs on him and dragged him away.
'I have friends, you know!' shouted Sakamoto wildly. 'This isn't finished Saito! They'll hunt you down. You and your little fuck-buddy! They'll find you when you least expect it. They’ll find an entertaining way to exact revenge. They're very good at extracting finger nails - very good indeed! Guaranteed to generate maximum pain!'
His voice trailed off into the distance still yelling obscenities and threats.
Junsa Saito looked on in shock and disbelief.
'You file that report. I need you to do that. Do what you can and then meet me at the pathology lab. Okay?' instructed Inspector Saito.
She nodded and they went their separate ways.
60 - In which a few of Saito’s own pennies begin to drop
Wednesday 5th January 8:15pm
Twenty minutes later Inspector Saito entered the pathology labs – workplace of chief pathologist Takahashi. As usual the primly turned out pathologist, with her grey hair pinned up and wearing thick-rimmed spectacles, seemed less than happy to see Inspector Saito waltz into the centre of her domain.
‘You’re back then?’ she sniffed.
‘So it appears.’
She turned away from him and walked back to the corner of the lab to wash her hands as if contaminated by his sheer presence.
‘Where’s Inspector Sakamoto?’
‘Indisposed!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means whatever you want it to, but the less you ask the better it will be for you,’ snapped Saito. ‘Now, let’s just get on with it, shall we?’ He was always quick to lose his temper when in the presence of the pathologist and it seemed that over the intervening three months she’d lost none of her own hostility towards him. Not for the first time Saito bemoaned the absence of her predecessor, the more outgoing Mifune.
‘That’s fine with me,’ she responded. ‘Over here, please.’ Saito followed her to the body of their latest victim.
‘We have a young, female adult,’ she started. ‘Early to mid twenties, well nourished with no signs of physical abnormality. Cause of death – asphyxiation through strangulation.’ She pointed to the marks on the neck.
‘Do they match the kind of marks found on Yamada Eri?’
‘Almost exactly the same, except in this instance there is also a great deal trauma to the face. She was beaten as well as strangled.’
Saito examined the face of the young victim. She would have been undeniably attractive in life and as ever a deep wave of sadness enveloped him. Staring into the eyes of a murder victim was often the hardest thing he ever had to do but at least on this occasion Takahashi had closed them. If he could avoid looking at the victim’s face he often did. But this time he didn’t. This time he stared intently at her features allowing his dark eyes to move across the dead woman’s forehead, down her nose and around her mouth and as he did so the cogs within his mind were whizzing frantically away, trying to connect, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Somewhere there was recognition.
Mori would have noted this look, the fire behind the eyes, and would have suspected that for a second time that evening Inspector Saito had begun to forge a solution.
On this particular occasion however, Inspector Saito would not have agreed with the guess work of his sergeant as for the moment nothing had connected. Wild thought – yes! But for now his brain was not fully assisting him. He was wondering how
tall the latest victim was. ‘Okay – time of death?’ he asked instead.
‘As I told Inspector Sakamoto… About six days ago! Some signs of curling after death,’ continued Takahashi.
‘That’s consistent. She was seen being dumped out of a car!’
Takahashi moved swiftly around the body from the side to the head leaving Saito to follow in her wake. ‘Aside from the ligature marks there are no other major injuries to her body apart from the bruising to her face. Here and here.’ She pointed to bruises on the woman’s eye and cheek. ‘The preliminary examination revealed no other identifying features on the body - no tattoo, no obviously broken arms or legs or anything remarkable about her teeth. There is some obvious trace evidence from the murderer - namely skin under her finger nails and I expect there will be strands of fibre on her clothing. Forensics will no doubt be able to tell you more, of course.’
‘Of course!’
She moved once more around to the feet of the victim. ‘The most telling new evidence is that she had intercourse before she was killed.’
‘Rape?’
‘I couldn’t possibly say.’
‘Push yourself.’ Saito felt that he was forever having the self-same conversation with Takahashi. It irritated him immensely. He pushed her one further time and this time received a positive response.
‘Rape, almost probably! All I can say for definite is that there was intercourse and male ejaculation and aggression - bruising. You would need further corroboration, which I doubt you will get, but the bruising would suggest rape, don’t you think.’
‘Send me the prelim report over will you - as soon as you can.’
Five minutes later Takahashi completed her verbal report leaving Saito feeling that he hadn’t really learnt anything new – at least not from Takahashi. Nevertheless before he left he turned and gave a polite bow. ‘Arigato’ he said in appreciation of her hard work and service, sensing a need, as ever, to start re-building some bridges. He closed the door quietly behind him.
She was the only one in recent days who hadn’t asked after his own injuries.
61 - In which the clouds darken and Inspector Saito confesses
Wednesday 5th January 9:35pm
A weary Inspector Saito kicked off his shoes and stepped up into his apartment with Junsa Saito following quickly behind him, the two having met just as he was exiting the pathology labs. In her hands she was carrying two take-out ton katsu (sliced breaded pork) bento boxes that they’d bought from the ground floor of the local department store before it had shut up for the night. In his hand he was carrying an equally newly purchased bottle of sake.
He headed straight for the sideboard and pulled out a couple of tumblers.
‘You want one?’
She hesitated.
‘Go on. It’ll do you some good.’
‘Okay then,’ she deferred. ‘Thank you.’ She held out her glass becoming alarmed at how full the Inspector was filling it. She wasn’t a drinker as a rule, having a tendency to flush and redden, making her feel quite hot and giddy, but on this occasion she felt that it would do no harm to join in with the Inspector. She still hadn’t got over the astonishing scuffle in the car park nor the fact of Sakamoto's immediate suspension.
A small drink would do no harm at all she thought - a small drink, that is!
‘What a day!’ Inspector Saito tossed his jacket onto the sofa, where it immediately slipped onto the floor. He then flopped down himself grabbing his side in pain as he did so. Junsa Saito picked up the jacket, placed it on an armchair and then took up her position on the floor, cross-legged underneath the Kotatsu. She opened the bento boxes and the two of them proceeded to eat in silence, picking hungrily at the slices of pork, the finely-chopped raw cabbage and rice. Inspector Saito sloshed back his sake and topped up his glass. Junsa Saito declined the offer of a second. She could already sense herself reddening under its effects.
As they ate Inspector Saito slowly turned over in his mind the unbelievable behaviour of Sakamoto.
‘What do you make of him - Inspector Sakamoto?’ he suddenly asked.
‘What do I make of him?’
‘Well, yes. I assume you've seen enough of him. What do you think?’
She was unused to making judgements on senior officers and even less so in verbalising them. She placed her chopsticks down and considered the question. ‘To be honest I’ve not seen that much of him, just the meeting today, the car-park and… oh yes, he did introduce himself to me yesterday afternoon. I don’t have much to go on...’
‘Well?’
‘I guess he seems aloof most of the time. That’s my biggest impression - as if he's above everyone else.’
'Hmmm...'
'And at the briefing he just seemed... Well he just seemed defeated.'
‘Defeated?’
‘Well, yes, but I can't really believe that he planted any evidence and if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed that he'd take it upon himself to launch an attack on you… on us. He’s a frightened man - a desperate man, maybe.’
‘Hmmm…’ Inspector Saito rubbed his chin and then topped up his glass a further time. Once again he offered the same to Junsa Saito, who declined yet again.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it. There was extreme hate in his eyes,’ she continued.
Saito pulled a wry smile. ‘I’m not sure that he hates me exactly - more views me as an irritant to his progression.'
'More than an irritant!'
'Maybe so. I never realised he was so ambitious – so ambitious or so desperate, as you say, that he would do what he has just done.’ He shook his head in disbelief.
He thought for a couple of minutes, rubbing is chin yet again. ‘Do you know Junsa, something doesn’t quite add up. There are numerous cases where mistakes are made, probably too many to mention – cases where suspects are apprehended and where it is later proved that they are innocent and have to be released. It's not unusual. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, I have to admit. Even monkeys fall from trees…’
For a second Inspector Saito fell silent. An intriguing thought had just clicked into place.
‘What?’ asked Junsa Saito.
‘Nothing, nothing. Something just popped into my head.’
‘A bad memory?’
‘Something like that, but where was I… Yes, in my experience, despite my errors, at none of those times did I ever feel it necessary to plant evidence, particularly in a situation as motiveless as this one. There have been plenty of times where we’ve had several motives and no alibi but haven't had the clinching evidence. On that kind of occasion I might believe how someone might, wrongly, attempt to create justice. But with Yamada Hideki… I don’t think so. It’s almost as if Sakamoto was so desperate to avoid anyone else falling under suspicion, particularly our Yakuza friends, that he was determined to resort to almost anything.’
He sat back on the sofa and nursed his sake and yet again for many minutes he sat silently thinking things through. As he did so Junsa Saito tidied away the bento boxes. ‘I still don't understand it, sir. I still can't think of why Sakamoto would do what he has done,' she said as she resumed her position on the floor.
'I think it's obvious!'
'It is?'
'Of course it is. Bear in mind the kind of threats he was flinging at us as he was dragged off. He was quite clearly referring to the Yakuza, don't you think? Can you explain it any other way?’ He placed down his sake glass his face a picture of seriousness.
‘You’re not really suggesting that he’s on the Yakuza payroll, are you?’
Inspector Saito looked down and played once more with his sake glass between his hands. ‘I think it was only after we started to suggest Yakuza involvement in the whole affair that he became increasingly desperate to plant evidence implicating Yamada. He needed to move the spotlight away from the Yakuza whilst at the same time ensuring that his own enquiry was water-tight. It has to be!'
He fell into sile
nce once more, allowing the full meaning of what he was saying to drift through his mind. 'I often wondered how it was that he secured his promotions so rapidly and now I think we have our answer.’ Once more he shook his head.
‘It’s unbelievable,’ echoed Junsa Saito.
‘It also means that there are those higher up who might also be tainted. It’s not a pleasant feeling.’
‘But do you have any evidence for…’
‘Nothing other than Sakamoto’s strange behaviour tonight and I expect we’re not exactly going to get our hands on a signed contract or anything like that.’