“This is where I was when I last talked to Ishigami. I told him something then. I told him there was no such thing in this world as a useless cog, and that even a cog may decide how it is to be used.”
“Excuse me? A cog?”
“Yes. After that, I tried asking him several questions I had about the case. He was pretty much ‘No comment’ about the whole thing, except that after we parted, he came up with his own answer. That answer was to turn himself in.”
“So you’re saying that he resigned himself to his fate after hearing what you told him?”
“ ‘Resignation’… I suppose you could call it that. For him, it was more like playing his last trump card. One he had been preparing assiduously for some time.”
“So what was it you told him?”
“Just what I said, that thing about the cog.”
“No, after that. You said you asked him questions. That’s what I wanted to know.”
A quiet smile came to Yukawa’s face and he shook his head slowly. “That’s not the important part.”
“It’s not?”
“The important part is the bit about cogs. That’s when he decided to turn himself in.”
Kusanagi sighed loudly. “You were checking out the newspapers at the university library, right? What were you looking for?”
“Did Tokiwa tell you that? I’m surprised you’ve taken such an interest in my daily goings-on.”
“Hey, it wasn’t by choice. You wouldn’t tell me anything yourself.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. It’s your job, after all. Feel free to investigate me all you like.”
Kusanagi stared at Yukawa intently for a moment, then lowered his eyes. “Yukawa, please. Stop talking in riddles. You know something. Tell me what it is. Ishigami didn’t murder that man, did he? If that’s true, then why would he say he did? You don’t want an old friend getting locked up for a murder he didn’t commit, do you?”
“Look up.”
Kusanagi looked back up. He breathed in sharply. The physicist’s face was twisted with grief; he pressed one hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes closed.
“Of course I don’t want him to be accused of murder. I just don’t see any way out of it. I wish none of this had happened.”
“What’s got you all worked up? Why don’t you just tell me? C’mon, we’re friends.”
Yukawa opened his eyes again, his face still severe. “Yes. You’re my friend, but you’re also a detective.”
Kusanagi didn’t know what to say to that. For the first time in the many years he had known Yukawa, he felt a wall between them. Here his friend was showing him pain he had never shown before, and Kusanagi was entirely unable to ask him why.
“I’m going to Yasuko Hanaoka’s,” Yukawa said. “Want to come with me?”
“Can I?”
“I don’t care. Just, I’d prefer it if you kept quiet.”
“Fine.”
Yukawa spun around and began to walk back toward the bridge. Kusanagi followed after him. Apparently, Yukawa’s initial destination had been the lunch shop, Benten-tei. Once again, Kusanagi found himself burning with questions he wanted to ask, yet unable to say a word. They walked in silence.
Just before Kiyosu Bridge, Yukawa climbed the steps to the road. Kusanagi followed and found Yukawa waiting for him at the top.
“See that office building?” The physicist pointed to the building closest to them. “See the glass doors at the entrance?”
Kusanagi looked and saw the two of them reflected in the doors. “Yeah. What about them?”
“When I visited Ishigami right after the murder, I saw the two of us reflected like this in these doors. Actually, I didn’t notice at first. It was Ishigami who brought it to my attention. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered the possibility he might be involved with the case. I was just happy to be reunited with an old competitor.”
“So you started to suspect him when you saw your two reflections?”
“It was what he said. ‘How have you managed to stay so young, Yukawa? You still have a full head of hair! How different we two are!’—Then he ran his fingers over his own head. It surprised me. Ishigami had never been the type to worry about physical appearances. He had always been of the opinion that a man’s value was not determined by such things, and he’d never wanted to live a life where such things could be a concern. Yet here he was, worried about his thinning hair. Something about which he could do nothing. That was when I realized he was in a position where he suddenly did have to worry about his own appearance—in other words, he was in love. Yet why would he suddenly come out and reveal such a thing, here, in this place?”
Kusanagi understood. “Because he was about to see the girl of his dreams.”
Yukawa nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I started thinking that this woman working at the lunch shop, his neighbor, whose ex-husband had so recently been killed, was the object of his affections. Which raised an important question: what was his relationship to the case? If he was so taken with this woman, he would have to be worried about it, yet he was playing the part of a disinterested observer to a T. Or perhaps I was assuming too much and he wasn’t in love at all. That’s why I got together with him again and accompanied him to the lunch shop. I thought I might see something in his expression that would reveal him. And as chance would have it, we ran into someone entirely unexpected at the shop—an acquaintance of Yasuko Hanaoka.”
“Kudo,” Kusanagi said. “He’s dating her.”
“So it seems. And when I saw Ishigami’s face as he watched this Kudo fellow and her talking—” Yukawa narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “That did it. I knew at that moment that Ishigami was infatuated with her. I could see jealousy written all over his face.”
“But that raises another question, doesn’t it?”
“It does. There was only one way to explain the resulting contradiction.”
“Ishigami was involved with the case—so that’s why you started to suspect him.” Kusanagi glanced back at the glass doors. “You scare me sometimes, you know. I’m sure Ishigami never suspected such a tiny imperfection in his performance would become a fatal flaw.”
“He’s a unique man. And even after all those years, my memory of him as he was back then is still vivid. If it weren’t, I’m sure I wouldn’t have have noticed a thing.”
“His bad luck,” Kusanagi said, starting toward the road. He stopped when he noticed that Yukawa wasn’t following him. “I thought you were going to Benten-tei?”
Eyes downcast, Yukawa came toward him. “I have to ask you to do something I normally wouldn’t ask. I don’t think you’ll like it.”
Kusanagi chuckled. “That depends on what it is.”
“Do you think you can forget you’re a detective, just for a moment?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“There’s something I need to tell you, but you my friend, not you the detective. And I can’t have you telling anyone else, ever. Not your police chief, not your friends, not even your family. Can you promise me this?”
Kusanagi saw a terrible urgency in the eyes behind the wire-frame glasses. He could tell that Yukawa felt forced into making a decision he wasn’t ready to make.
He wanted to say, “It depends on what you tell me.” But Kusanagi swallowed his words. If he said that, Yukawa would never look at him as a friend again.
“Fine. I promise.”
EIGHTEEN
Yasuko passed a fried chicken meal across the counter to the last customer in line and glanced up at the clock. Only a few minutes until six. She sighed and took off her white cap.
Kudo had called her on her cell phone at lunchtime. He wanted to meet her after work—“To celebrate,” he’d said, his voice full of energy.
She’d asked what they were celebrating.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he answered. “They caught the murderer! No more investigations. No more being watched. Surely that rates a toast?”
Kudo had sounded so chipper and full of life over the phone. It made sense; he didn’t know what had really happened. Still, Yasuko had been unable to put herself in a celebratory mood. She had told him as much.
“Why?” Kudo had wanted to know. When she didn’t answer, he had mumbled something about understanding. “Oh … I wasn’t thinking about the victim. It’s surprising how deep the connections between people can run, even when they’re apart. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to suggest a celebration.”
He was completely off the mark, but Yasuko hadn’t enlightened him.
“Actually, though…” he’d continued after a pause. “There was something else I wanted to talk with you about, something very important. I’d very much like to see you tonight. Do you think that would be possible?”
Yasuko had considered refusing. She just wasn’t in the mood. She felt stained by guilt, knowing Ishigami had turned himself in to save her. But she’d been at a loss for a way to turn Kudo down, and she had wondered—was still wondering—what the important thing he had to discuss might be.
In the end, they’d agreed that he would come pick her up at six thirty. Kudo had said something about wanting Misato to join them, but Yasuko had gently objected, and that was that. She didn’t want Kudo seeing her daughter the way she was these days.
Yasuko had left a message on the machine at her apartment, saying she’d be home a little late that evening. It made her heart heavy just imagining what Misato would think about that.
At the stroke of six, Yasuko took off her apron. She poked her head into the kitchen. “Looks like we’re done for the day,” she called to Sayoko.
“My, that time already?” Sayoko looked up from her plate. She was eating an early dinner. “Thanks, then. Don’t worry about closing up, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks,” Yasuko replied, folding her apron.
“You’re going to meet Mr. Kudo tonight, aren’t you?” Sayoko asked in a quiet voice.
“What?”
“I noticed you got a phone call at lunch. He’s asked you on a date, didn’t he!”
Flustered, Yasuko said nothing. Sayoko took her silence for shyness. “I’m happy for you,” she said with a suggestive wink. “That whole unpleasant business with Togashi’s murder is cleared up now, and look, there’s a nice man like Mr. Kudo just waiting for you in the wings. You know, I think your luck has turned.”
“Maybe…”
“Oh it has, I’m sure of it! You’ve paid your dues, now it’s time for you to find a little happiness for yourself. And for Misato.”
Sayoko’s words triggered an avalanche of conflicting emotions inside Yasuko. Would Sayoko be wishing her happiness if she knew she was a killer?
Yasuko took her leave and slipped out of the kitchen. She couldn’t look Sayoko in the eyes.
She left Benten-tei and walked in the direction opposite her usual route home after work. She was supposed to meet Kudo at the family restaurant on the corner. Until now, she had avoided the place since that day she’d met Togashi there. But Kudo had selected it as an easy place where they could meet. She’d been unable to think of an appropriate excuse to get him to change his mind.
An expressway overpass crossed above the road to the restaurant. She was just making her way beneath it when a man’s voice called out from behind her, “Ms. Hanaoka?”
She stopped and turned to see two familiar men walking toward her. One was Yukawa—the professor who was an old friend of Ishigami’s. The other was the detective, Kusanagi. Yasuko couldn’t imagine why they of all people would be here, walking together.
“You remember me?” Yukawa was the first to speak.
Involuntarily, Yasuko felt her gaze darting back and forth between the two men’s faces. After a moment she nodded.
“I’m sorry, were you on your way somewhere?”
“Well, actually…” She looked down at her watch, though she was too nervous to actually read the time. “I was supposed to meet someone.”
“I see. I was hoping that we could talk. Just for a half hour or so. It’s very important.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have that much time—” She shook her head.
“Then how about fifteen minutes? That’s all we need. Right here, on that bench.” Yukawa pointed toward a nearby strip of green, a tiny public park that had been built beneath the expressway.
Though his tone was gentle, something in his attitude conveyed how serious he was. Yasuko understood immediately that whatever he had to say was extremely important. This university man had talked to her like that before. His tone and words were light, but the weight behind them was almost suffocating.
She felt a powerful urge to run, to flee as fast as her legs would take her. But a strange fascination held her. She was curious to hear what he had to say. Whatever it was, she knew it was about Ishigami.
“Okay, ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” Yukawa said with a smile, leading the way toward the park.
Yasuko hesitated before following, but Kusanagi waved her on. “Go ahead,” he murmured. She nodded and followed after Yukawa. The detective’s dour presence was giving her the creeps.
Yukawa sat down on the bench. It was wide enough for two, and he left space for Yasuko.
“Stand over there, if you would,” the physicist directed Kusanagi with a wave of his hand. “I think we should talk by ourselves.”
Kusanagi looked less than pleased by this, but he stuck out his chin and strolled back to the entrance of the park, where he took out a cigarette and began to smoke.
Yasuko sat next Yukawa, glancing in Kusanagi’s direction. “Isn’t he a detective? Are you sure this is all right?”
“Don’t worry about him. I was originally going to come here by myself. And besides, he’s here more as a friend of mine than as a detective anyway.”
“A friend?”
“Since our college days, yes.” Yukawa smiled again, showing white teeth. “Which makes him a classmate of Ishigami, also. Though the two never met until all this happened.”
Finally Yasuko understood why Professor Yukawa had come to visit Ishigami only after the murder. Though Ishigami hadn’t said anything about it, she suspected that his whole plan had fallen apart because of Yukawa’s involvement. When the math teacher was calculating how to cover up her ex-husband’s murder, he certainly couldn’t have counted on the detective’s being an alumnus of his university or on the two of them even having a mutual friend.
But all that was done now. So what could Yukawa want to talk to her about?
“It’s extremely regrettable that Ishigami decided to turn himself in,” Yukawa said, abruptly getting to the point. “To think of a man with his talent wasting away inside a jail cell makes me, as a scientist, very sad indeed.”
Yasuko wasn’t sure how to respond. She clenched her fingers into fists on her knees.
“To be honest, I’m having trouble believing it. I just can’t believe he would do such a thing. To you. Spying like he says he did.”
Yukawa sensed that Yasuko was watching him out of the corners of her eyes; her body was visibly tensed.
“No, maybe believe isn’t the right word. I’m absolutely certain he wouldn’t. He … when he told us that story … Ishigami’s lying. Which raises the question: why would he lie? What’s the point of lying now that he’s soon to be a convicted murderer? And yet he is lying. I can think of only one reason for it. He’s not lying for himself. He’s lying for someone else, to hide the truth.”
Yasuko swallowed. It was taking all of her effort just to breathe at a steady rhythm. She didn’t know how, but this man had figured out the truth, even if he didn’t know the exact details. Ishigami was protecting someone—someone else was the murderer. Now Yukawa was trying to save his friend in any way that he could. What would be the easiest way to get his friend off the hook? Why, by convincing the real murderess to turn herself in. By getting her to make a confession to the police that would sweep away everything his
friend had brought upon himself.
Yasuko glanced fearfully at the man beside her and found, much to her surprise, that he was smiling.
“You think I’ve come to convince you, don’t you?”
“No, why would I—” Yasuko jerked her head in denial. “I don’t see what—what you would be trying to convince me to do…”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, don’t mind me.” He lowered his head. “Still, there was something I wanted you to know. That’s why I’m here.”
“What might that be?”
“Well.” Yukawa paused a moment before speaking again. “I want you to know that you know nothing of the truth.”
Yasuko’s eyes widened with surprise. Yukawa wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Your alibi’s the real deal,” he continued. “You went to that movie theater when you said you did, and your daughter went with you. I can’t imagine a girl in middle school holding up under such persistent questioning from the police otherwise. Neither of you is lying.”
“That’s true. I’m not lying. But why did you have to tell me that?”
“Don’t you find it odd that you haven’t had to lie? That the police have gone so easy on you? See, Ishigami put it together so you would only have to tell the truth. No matter how hard the detectives pushed, nothing would ever lead decisively to your doorstep. I have no doubt that, even now, you’re unaware of most of what he’s done. You might realize he’s pulled off some nifty trick to get you out of trouble, but you’re not entirely sure what that is. Am I wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Yasuko tried smiling, but her mouth felt as if it were made of plastic.
“He has made a terrible sacrifice in order to protect you, you know. A sacrifice so great, ordinary people such as you and I couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing. I’m sure that, from the night it all happened, he was prepared to take your place in a jail cell, should the situation call for that. His entire plan was constructed around that commitment. To put it another way, he knew he could do anything, as long as it didn’t interfere with that trump card. Yet what a trump card it is! Who could possibly follow through on such a plan? Ishigami knew it would be near impossible himself. That’s why he cut off his own path of retreat—so he would never be able to turn back once things were put into motion. That’s what most surprises me about all that he’s done.”