The Tooth Tattoo

by Peter Lovesey

  ‘Manslaughter. I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘The question is, had Taki?’

  The department secretary arrived with tea and biscuits. Switching quickly to his amiable self, Diamond told her he could get used to the academic life. Nobody ever brought tea and biscuits to his office in CID.

  ‘Perhaps you don’t treat them right,’ the secretary said with a smile.

  ‘I’m like a favourite uncle to them all,’ he said, ‘but it makes no difference.’

  ‘Try getting tough, then.’

  ‘Now there’s an idea.’

  Ingeborg was open-mouthed.

  ‘Mr. Nambu is here now,’ the secretary said.

  ‘We’ll see him.’

  By student standards, Mikio Nambu was improbably well-groomed, in a navy polo shirt and white jeans. He looked as if he couldn’t kill a fly, but so did many of the notorious rapists and killers in criminal history, Diamond reflected. As an investigator, you had to accept that wrongdoers aren’t necessarily uglier or larger or less presentable than the rest of humanity. Juries were always disarmed by the ordinariness of the people put up before them.

  ‘Sit down, Mr. Nambu. Sorry to take you from your studies. This shouldn’t be long. We’ll call you Mikio if you don’t mind. Is that the way you say it?’

  ‘Mickey will do.’

  ‘We won’t get too chummy.’ He introduced himself and Ingeborg by rank and surname. ‘Do you know why we’re here?’

  ‘It’s about Mari Hitomi.’ His English was at least the equal of Taki’s.

  ‘A friend from Yokohama, is that right?’

  ‘She was, yes. I saw the TV news. It’s difficult to believe.’

  ‘Always is for the nearest and dearest. Would you call yourself one of Mari’s nearest and dearest?’

  He shifted in the chair. ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘I’m trying to get a sense of your relationship. You must have dated her. Did you ever sleep with her?’

  ‘We were schoolkids.’

  ‘Is that a no?’

  ‘A definite no.’ He leaned back in the chair and said, ‘I hope you’re not trying to connect me with her murder.’

  ‘You’re a witness – or I think you are. She arrived in London and stayed for a short time with her father, who thought she was coming directly here to catch up with old friends from Yokohama – you and Taki Kihara. Did you hear from her?’

  He paused. ‘There was a text to say she was coming and would get in touch when she knew the date.’

  ‘Is it still on your phone, this text?’

  ‘Deleted. I don’t keep everything.’

  ‘When did you receive it?’

  ‘At least two months ago, possibly longer.’ He was hesitating before each response, as if expecting a trap.

  ‘And I suppose there’s no way of telling if it was sent from London or Bath?’

  ‘It’s a mobile phone.’

  ‘Right. So did you see her after the text arrived?’

  ‘She didn’t get here.’

  ‘Let’s not take anything for granted, Mikio. You don’t know if she got here. You’re telling me you didn’t see her here, is that more accurate?’

  ‘I suppose. I thought she was killed in Bath.’

  ‘Her body was found there. It isn’t certain she was killed there, unless you know something we don’t.’

  He blinked rapidly. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Do you drive?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Got a car, have you?’

  ‘A Nissan Micra.’

  Diamond exchanged a glance with Ingeborg. ‘It crossed my mind that you could have arranged to meet her in Bath, in which case you could tell us what she was doing there.’

  Mikio shook his head. ‘I’ve never been to Bath.’

  ‘Or some place nearby?’

  The words came rapidly now. ‘I didn’t see her. I didn’t speak to her on the phone. I received one text and that’s all.’

  ‘She could have come to Exeter as she promised,’ Diamond said.

  ‘If she did, I didn’t see her.’

  ‘Okay, don’t panic, Mikio. Where do you keep your car?’

  If anything was likely to panic him, it was more interest in his car. He swallowed hard. ‘On the street outside my lodgings.’

  ‘Is it there now?’

  ‘Now? It’s here on the campus.’

  ‘So would you show it to us?’

  They didn’t have far to go. The physics department had its own parking area behind one of the labs. Mikio’s Nissan Micra, a small, blue hatchback, stood only a few spaces from where Ingeborg had parked.

  ‘I haven’t washed it lately,’ he said.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Diamond told him. ‘We’re not thinking of buying it.’

  They walked around the mud-spattered car. The back seat was covered with textbooks and file covers.

  ‘There isn’t much room for books where I live,’ Mikio said.

  ‘Open up, please.’

  A sharp odour was apparent as soon as he unlocked the front door.

  ‘What’s that – disinfectant?’

  ‘There was a smell I was trying to get rid of. Maybe I should have used something else.’

  ‘What sort of smell?’

  ‘Vomit.’

  ‘Here in the front?’

  ‘That’s where it was.’

  An insight into student life. Diamond glanced around the interior, which hadn’t been cleaned for a considerable time. Forensics would have a field day here if they were ever asked to check it. ‘Is the back open?’

  Mikio took them around to the rear door. More books, up to a hundred probably, filled the boot space. Diamond sniffed and got the smell of books. Nothing else. This end of the car hadn’t been disinfected.

  ‘You can close it. We’re done.’

  Back in the office, Diamond resumed in a disarming way. ‘Tell us what Mari was like when you were going out with her in Yokohama.’

  Mikio frowned, still wary of being trapped. ‘I already told you we were just schoolkids. Nothing happened.’

  ‘You’re on about sex, are you?’ Diamond said. ‘I’m interested more in her personality, but if you want to tell us what you got up to – or didn’t – go ahead.’

  A sharp breath. ‘No. It’s okay. There’s nothing to say. Personality. What do you want to know? She was popular, good at her studies, especially maths. She lived with her mother in an apartment in one of the best buildings in Yokohama. It was big, well furnished.’

  ‘You’ve seen inside, then?’

  ‘Only the hallway and living room.’

  ‘I believe her bedroom was quite a sight, filled with posters,’ Diamond said.

  More nervous blinking. ‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

  ‘When you took her out, where did you go?’

  ‘The movies, a couple of times. She didn’t like clubs. They had the wrong sort of music. She was into serious stuff.’

  ‘So we are finding out. Did you go to any concerts with her?’

  ‘No, she liked to go alone. She spent all her pocket money travelling around to catch her favourite players. She had all the gigs on her iPad calendar and if I wanted a date I had to fit around them.’

  ‘So did you take her drinking?’

  ‘We were under age. Couldn’t afford it, anyway.’

  ‘Was she better off than you?’

  ‘Definitely. She got an allowance from her dad as well as her mother. But she spent most of it on the music.’

  ‘Tough for you, being second best,’ Diamond said. ‘How do you make any headway with a girl like that? What did she drink – Coke?’

  Mikio reddened. Plainly he saw where this was heading. ‘Lemonade actually.’

  ‘Lemonade doesn’t have much of a kick.’

  ‘It was her choice.’

  ‘I expect she was drinking stronger stuff these days.’

  He was quick to say, ‘I wouldn’t
know. I didn’t see her.’

  ‘If she still drinks lemonade, there are ways of pepping it up, aren’t there?’ Diamond said. ‘You know all about getting girls in the mood. Ecstasy, GHB, or whatever the latest is.’

  Mikio snapped, his voice rising. ‘Look, that’s out of order.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about your schooldays. We’ve moved on. It’s a different world here. The girls drink as much as they want of whatever they want and sometimes things get added as well.’

  Pushed to the limit, Mikio launched into a defence of his actions. ‘Taki’s been talking to you about me. If she told you I drugged her at the end of last term, it’s a lie. I didn’t add anything to her drink. I don’t do drugs myself and I wouldn’t dream of giving them to girls.’

  ‘What happened, then?’ Ingeborg said, fixing him with an uncompromising stare.

  ‘Do you really need to know?’

  She didn’t answer and neither did Diamond.

  ‘Okay.’ Mikio gripped the chair arms. ‘There was this end of term booze-up in a pub. We thought it was a laugh when she was getting giggly and I filled her glass to encourage her, but I didn’t know she was legless. When it was obvious she couldn’t stand properly I felt bloody mean and ashamed. The least I could do was see her home safely, so I drove her back to her place. It wasn’t what you’re thinking. She threw up in my car. I got her to the house and helped her upstairs. If she told you I did anything else, I didn’t. She had vomit down her front. Would you fancy anyone in that state? I opened the door and guided her in and she sat on the edge of her bed and pulled off the smelly top and started unfixing her bra. I decided I’d done my duty and ought to leave fast, so I did. We haven’t spoken since.’

  The words had come so rapidly and with such strong recollection Diamond found them convincing. None of it sounded rehearsed. ‘Did you put disinfectant in the car to take down the smell?’

  Mikio needed a few seconds to get over his statement. ‘I’ve given it several goes. Air freshener isn’t enough.’

  Diamond was ready to move on, whatever Ingeborg had decided. ‘What happened between you two isn’t my concern unless it touches on the death of Mari. Let’s get back to when you were dating her in Yokohama. How did it end? Did you have a row?’

  The young man’s eyes rolled upwards. ‘How did it end? It didn’t really. There was never much to it. We stopped seeing each other, but we stayed friends, or she wouldn’t have asked to see me on this visit. I couldn’t compete with the musicians she idolised, and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘Did she name any of them?’

  ‘I don’t remember any names. It was groups mostly, like any pop band, only classical. And you might say she was like any groupie, dead nuts about them.’

  ‘Is that what you really mean?’ Ingeborg asked, her feminism challenged yet again. ‘A groupie? That’s something more than idolising them. It means she was willing to sleep with them.’

  ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have used the word,’ he said, on the retreat. ‘It’s unfair now she’s dead. I don’t know what was in her mind. The music thing was all a bit obsessive, but that’s a stage teenagers go through, isn’t it?’

  ‘Who were the groups she liked?’

  ‘They didn’t mean much to me.’

  ‘The Staccati?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘Where did that come from?’ Diamond asked Ingeborg.

  ‘Tell you later,’ she said. ‘But I think we should speak to Taki again before we leave.’

  They let Mikio return to his studies. He was out of that office as if a fuse had been lit.

  ‘What did you make of him?’ Diamond asked Ingeborg. ‘Is this a Japanese crime?’

  ‘If it is, we need to know a lot more about the motive,’ she said. ‘I was all ready to pin it on him after listening to Taki and how he treated her, but I thought he came across as honest. Jumpy, but truthful.’

  Diamond murmured in agreement. ‘And the smell of disinfectant in the car definitely came from the floor in front of the passenger seat, which backs his story. When he first opened the door I thought maybe he’d had a corpse in there and tried to clean up, but you wouldn’t stick a corpse beside you in the front. The boot area was free of the smell.’

  ‘And he needn’t have shown us the car,’ Ingeborg said. ‘He could have said it was at the other end of the campus.’

  Diamond surprised Ingeborg by suggesting she alone should do the follow-up interview with Taki. ‘She’ll respond better to you. In kindness you should tell her Mikio’s version of what happened the night she got drunk. If she’s alone with you and more relaxed she may recall something of real importance.’

  On the drive back to Bath, he said, ‘Well?’

  ‘Well what, guv?’

  ‘Well, you’re looking pleased with yourself. How did it go?’

  ‘It was rather sweet. She wept a few tears, but they were tears of relief. She’s given herself a hard time these last few months imagining what happened. I think they’ll be back on speaking terms soon.’

  ‘And did you get any more from her?’

  Ingeborg smiled. ‘I did. I asked about the musicians Mari was keen on. We’d talked earlier about the posters in her room, but we didn’t get down to names.’

  ‘We asked Mikio and he couldn’t remember any.’

  ‘Taki did. She said there was one string quartet that stood out and it was called the Staccati.’

  ‘The name you brought up earlier?’

  ‘Yes – because they’re based in Bath.’

  ‘Really?’ He turned to look at her, eyes gleaming. ‘How do you know about that?’

  She played casual. ‘Who’s been doing the rounds of all the music colleges? I heard the name and remembered it and what’s more I’ve met one of the players.’

  14

  The four were united again for the next rehearsal at the Michael Tippett Centre. As if to compensate for the day before, they had a spat-free session, rounding off with an hour’s bar-by-bar dissection of the ‘Grosse Fuge’ and then a run-through.

  ‘The best yet,’ Ivan said, resting his instrument on its case. ‘We can all improve our intonation, but that will come. Some of your playing was exquisite, Mel.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Some of it?’ Cat said, laughing. ‘Good in parts like the curate’s egg?’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ Ivan said.

  ‘He can take a joke.’ She turned to Mel. ‘I liked your sound, too, sunshine, and Anthony won’t say a word, but he was quietly purring at those last Arpeggios.’

  ‘Do we have a date for this recording?’ Mel asked, to steer the attention away from himself.

  ‘That’s up to us,’ Ivan said. ‘We’re not ready yet.’

  ‘The recording studio has its own terrors,’ Cat said. ‘Personally, I prefer performing in front of an audience.’

  ‘Don’t we all?’ Ivan said. ‘I always find I can bring out something extra.’

  ‘Is that one of your Ukrainian customs, bringing out something extra?’ Cat said. ‘Do that in public here, comrade, and you’ll get arrested.’

  Ivan clicked his tongue. ‘Isn’t it possible to say anything serious in present company?’

  Anthony stood up and packed his violin away, indifferent to the banter as usual.

  Cat said to him, ‘Your turn to share a taxi with me and my cello, right? I’ll phone for one now. Want me to order a second one, guys?’

  Ivan said he was staying on to teach a student, but Mel said he was ready to leave.

  When they reached the foyer only a few minutes later, a cab was already outside.

  ‘Can’t be ours,’ Cat said. ‘It’s too quick.’

  ‘I’ll check,’ Mel said.

  The driver lowered his window and when Mel asked who he was waiting for, he said, ‘Mr. Farran.’

  ‘That’s me,’ Mel said, surprised. ‘Is the other cab on its way?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know, mate. I was ask
ed to pick up Mr. Farran, the viola player.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He gestured through the window to the others that he’d got lucky.

  It all happened so fast that the taxi was zooming along the road to Bath before he realised he hadn’t given his address. He must have used this driver before, he decided. Often at the end of a rehearsal he felt so wrung out that he wouldn’t have recognised his own father in the driver’s seat. They were heading in the right direction, so he relaxed and thought about his plans for the rest of the day. He’d need to fit in more practice. In spite of the praise from the others, he knew Ivan was right. His intonation – accuracy of pitch – could be improved. With such latitude possible in their creation of sound, string players had a huge advantage over anyone else in an orchestra, yet there were phases, say in a long legato line with open strings, when the pitch should be suppressed. He’d noted a couple of passages in the Beethoven when he needed to adapt better to the violins. Ivan would certainly speak up if there wasn’t an adjustment next time they practised.

  The taxi forked left at Park Lane, heading directly north past Royal Victoria Park – an odd decision considering Mel’s lodgings were in Forester Road, north-east of the city. Cab drivers were a law unto themselves, so Mel didn’t question the route. Maybe the man knew about some obstruction along the way. Or maybe he was putting another half-mile on the clock. If so, it didn’t worry Mel, as all the fares went on the quartet’s account and were settled by their agent, Doug.

  But when they slowed to a crawl for no obvious reason he tapped on the glass. ‘Hey, this isn’t where I live.’

  ‘All right, mate. It’s under control. I’m picking up another fare.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just ahead. Your lucky day, by the look of her.’

  A woman was waiting opposite the entrance to the Botanic Garden, hand raised for the taxi to stop. People sometimes shared when cabs were in short supply at the station, but this woman was behaving as if she was hailing an empty one. Mel was on the point of objecting before he saw what a dream she was. She could have stepped off the style pages of a weekend magazine. Blonde, in a short white leather skirt and black top, she was smiling as if she knew exactly who Mel was, even though he was sure he’d never met her. She wasn’t in any way forgettable.

  Mel was a ladies’ man. Any lingering thoughts of protest went out of the cab door when it opened and a tidal wave of cleavage almost engulfed him.