Sure, her boss probably suspected the truth; but suspecting something and hearing it from your husband’s lover’s mouth were two different things. It had already been several days since Hiromi admitted she was pregnant in front of Detective Utsumi. Since then, Ayane hadn’t spoken a word about it. Her feelings towards me must’ve changed since that time in the hotel room, Hiromi thought, but she wasn’t sure exactly how.
Thinking about the future made her head swim. What do I do?
She knew she should have an abortion. What kind of home could she provide for the child? The father was already dead, and Hiromi was on the brink of losing her job. She doubted that Ayane would give her any more work if she chose to keep the child.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t have a choice – and yet it seemed an impossible decision to make. Maybe it was the love she still felt for Yoshitaka that made her unwilling to let go of this last remnant of him. Maybe it was something more primal, a female need to bear a child. She wasn’t sure.
Either way, there wasn’t much time. She had at most two weeks left to decide.
She was walking away from the funeral hall, looking for a taxi, when she heard a voice call out, ‘Ms Wakayama?’
She looked over her shoulder and frowned. Detective Kusanagi was making his way down the pavement towards her.
‘I was looking for you – are you headed home?’
‘Yes. I’m a bit tired.’
Hiromi figured the man must know about her pregnancy by now. She considered telling him to leave her alone, so as not to place undue strain on her at such a delicate time.
‘I know you’re tired, and I’m really sorry, but I was hoping for a word or two? It will only take a few minutes, I promise.’
Hiromi stopped trying to hide her displeasure. ‘Now? Must you?’
‘Yes. I’m really sorry.’
‘Do I have to go to the station again?’
‘No, any place we can talk quietly is fine.’ Without waiting for her to answer, the detective hailed a cab.
Kusanagi told the driver to take them to a restaurant near Hiromi’s apartment. Maybe he really will let me go soon, she thought with relief.
They took a table at the back of the nearly empty restaurant.
Tea and coffee were self-service at this place, and Hiromi, not wanting to get up, ordered milk. Kusanagi ordered hot cocoa.
‘Luckily, these places are mostly nonsmoking these days. I thought that might be better for you,’ the detective said with a pleasant smile.
Hiromi was sure the comment was made to indicate that he knew about her condition; but despite his discretion, her own inner debate about the pregnancy made the remark feel harsh and insensitive.
‘What did you want to ask me?’ she said, looking down at the table.
‘Of course, you’re tired. I’ll skip the small talk.’ Kusanagi leaned forward. ‘I want to know about Yoshitaka Mashiba’s female relations.’
Hiromi looked up. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Well … was he seeing any other women? Other than you, I mean?’
Hiromi straightened in her chair and blinked. She felt her head spinning. ‘Why would you ask me that?’
‘Was there another woman?’
‘Are you asking me because you heard there was?’ Hiromi countered, her voice sharp.
Kusanagi smiled wanly and waved a hand. ‘No, we haven’t heard anything concrete. It just seemed like a possibility, which is why I wanted to ask you.’
‘Then I’m sorry but I don’t know. And I don’t know why you’d think there was someone else.’
Kusanagi’s smile faded and he clasped his hands together, resting them on the table. ‘As you know,’ he said, ‘Mr Mashiba was poisoned. From the specific circumstances of the poisoning, the killer had to be someone who had access to the Mashiba house on the day he died. That makes you the prime suspect.’
‘I’ve already told you, I didn’t—’
‘I understand,’ Kusanagi cut her off. ‘But if it wasn’t you, then who else? Who else had access to the house? We’ve looked into Mr Mashiba’s work connections and his private life, and haven’t found a single likely person. This leads us to think that there might’ve been someone – someone else – with whom Mr Mashiba had a secret relationship.’
Hiromi finally understood what the detective was driving at, but she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. The whole idea was completely ridiculous.
‘Detective, I think you have him all wrong. He may have done and said some outrageous things, and he did have a relationship with me, so I can understand why you might suspect him of being less than morally upright – but he was no playboy. He was very serious about his relationships, including with me.’
Hiromi had intended to sound strong and decisive, to put the detective in his place, but Kusanagi’s expression barely changed.
‘So you didn’t suspect the presence of any other woman in his life?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘What about any ex-girlfriends? Do you know anything about them?’
‘Ex-girlfriends? You mean people he saw before getting married? I know there were a few, but he never talked much about them.’
‘Do you remember anything at all? About what they did for work, or where he met them?’
Hiromi frowned, sifting back through her memories. Yoshitaka had said a few things about the women he used to see – and one or two of them still lingered in her mind.
‘He did say something about being with a woman in publishing once.’
‘Publishing? Like, an editor?’
‘No. A writer, I think.’
‘A novelist? Something like that?’
Hiromi shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. All he said was that whenever she put out a book, he would always have to give her his opinion, and he couldn’t stand doing that. I asked him what kind of books they were, but he avoided the topic. He didn’t like talking about his exes, so I didn’t push him on it.’
‘Anything else?’
‘He did say he was never drawn to prostitutes or performers. He didn’t like those matchmaking parties where the organizers would slip in a few models to drum up interest. That was a turnoff for him.’
‘But he met his wife at a party like that?’
‘So I hear,’ Hiromi said, lowering her eyes.
‘Did you ever get the sense that he was still in contact with any of his exes?’
‘Not as far as I was aware.’ Hiromi looked up at the detective. ‘Do you think some old flame might’ve killed him?’
‘It’s a possibility, which is why I’d like you to try and remember anything you can. Men tend to be less guarded about their relationships than women. Perhaps he let something slip in the middle of some other con -versation?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Hiromi said, pulling her cup of milk towards her. ‘I don’t remember much else.’ She took a sip, wishing she had got tea instead. Picking up a napkin to wipe her lips seemed an impossibly onerous task.
Then an old memory surfaced, and she met the detective’s stare.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Yoshitaka always drank coffee, but he was very knowledgeable about tea, too. I asked him about it once, and he said it was because of one of his exes. She was a real tea lover, and always bought her tea from the same store. A speciality place in Nihonbashi, I’m pretty sure.’
Kusanagi scribbled a note on his memo pad. ‘Do you remember the name of the store?’
‘No. Sorry. He might not even have told me.’
‘A tea speciality store, then,’ Kusanagi muttered, frowning slightly.
‘I’m sorry I can’t give you more.’
‘Not at all.’ Kusanagi smiled again. ‘This is quite a lot to go on, actually. We asked Mrs Mashiba the same questions and didn’t get anything from her. Maybe he felt more comfortable talking with you than with his actual wife.’
The detective’s comment irritated Hiromi. Maybe
he’d intended to be comforting, but he was an idiot if he thought it could possibly make her feel better.
‘Are we done here?’ she asked. ‘I’d really like to go home.’
‘Yes. Yes, and thank you for your time. If you remember anything else that might help, please don’t hesitate to call.’
‘I’ll be sure to,’ Hiromi said.
‘Right. I’ll see you home.’
‘It’s okay. I can walk from here.’
Hiromi stood, leaving the bill on the table, not even bothering to thank him for the milk.
FOURTEEN
Steam poured from the mouth of the kettle. In sullen silence, Yukawa lifted it and emptied the boiling water into the sink. Then he took off the lid and, after removing his glasses so they wouldn’t fog, peeked inside.
‘How does it look?’ Utsumi asked.
Yukawa replaced the kettle on the burner and slowly shook his head. ‘No good. Exactly the same as last time.’
‘The gelatin?’
‘Still there.’
The physicist pulled up a metal folding chair and sat down. Linking his hands behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. Instead of his white lab coat, he was sporting a black, short-sleeved T-shirt revealing slender but well-muscled arms.
Utsumi had come to visit him at the laboratory to watch him try to mix poison into the kettle using the trick he had come up with the other day. So far, the results were less than impressive. In order for the trick to work, he would have to use the kettle twice without melting the gelatin and allowing the poison to mix with the water. This required a thick layer of gelatin. But when he layered on a sufficient amount, the gelatin would fail to completely melt, leaving traces inside the kettle. Traces of the sort that had not been found by the Forensics investigation.
‘I guess it wasn’t gelatin,’ Yukawa said, scratching his head with both hands.
‘Forensics said the same thing,’ Utsumi said. ‘They were of the opinion that even if the gelatin melted completely, it would still leave a small amount on the inside of the kettle. Also, no traces of gelatin were found in the used coffee grounds. At least Forensics liked your idea, though. They tried several other materials.’
‘I’m guessing they tried wafers, then?’ Yukawa asked.
‘The ones for taking powdered medicine? Yes. Wafers leave a trace of flour in the grounds.’
‘Oh well, strike two,’ Yukawa said, giving his knees a slap and standing. ‘Unfortunately, it looks like we have to abandon this line of inquiry.’
‘It was a fantastic idea,’ Utsumi offered.
‘Even if all it accomplished was wiping that smirk off Detective Kusanagi’s face for a little while.’ Yukawa retrieved his lab coat from the back of the chair and put it on. ‘What’s the good detective up to, incidentally?’
‘Looking into Mr Mashiba’s past relationships.’
‘Ah, yes. Following through on his hunch, then. That might just turn out to be the best course to take, now that the kettle’s proved to be a dead end.’
‘Do you think some ex-lover killed Mr Mashiba?’
‘Lover or fighter, the most logical explanation remaining is that our killer waited until Ms Wakayama left on Sunday morning, entered the Mashiba residence by some means, and put poison in that kettle.’
‘So you’re giving up.’
‘I wouldn’t call it that. I would call it a consistent application of the process of elimination. Kusanagi may be smitten with Mrs Mashiba, but that doesn’t mean he’s blind to the basic facts. The direction he’s taking this investigation in makes a good deal of sense, if you ask me.’ Yukawa sat back down and crossed his legs. ‘The poison – arsenous acid, was it? Can’t you identify the killer by tracing sales records?’
‘That’s proving difficult. Producing and selling arsenous acid as a pesticide was, for the most part, stopped about fifty years ago, but it is still being used elsewhere for some rather surprising things.’
‘Such as?’
Utsumi opened her notepad. ‘Well, there’s pest control – that one’s pretty obvious. Then there’s wood treatments to prevent rotting, medicine used in dentistry, semiconductor manufacturing … that’s about it.’
‘Dentistry! Now that is surprising.’
‘They use it to kill nerve endings in the teeth. But the chemical is in a paste form, which is then dissolved in water, leaving only about a forty percent concentration of arsenous acid. It’s not likely to be the substance used in this case.’
‘So what is likely?’
‘An exterminator would have access to arsenous acid in sufficient concentrations. They use it to control termites, mainly. You have to write down your address and name whenever you purchase it, so we’re checking into that. Of course, merchants are only required to keep those records for five years, so if the poison was purchased before then, we’re out of luck. We’re equally out of luck if the killer obtained the arsenous acid illegally.’
‘I have a feeling our killer wouldn’t slip up in such an obvious way. I think you’d better wait to see what Detective Kusanagi turns up.’
‘I just don’t think our killer put the poison directly into the kettle.’
‘Why not?’ Yukawa raised an eyebrow. ‘Because the wife couldn’t have done it, then? You’re right to suspect her, but you can’t conduct your entire investigation based on an assumption like that.’
‘I’m not assuming anything. There’s just no evidence anyone else visited the Mashiba residence that day – none at all. Say for instance an old lover came by, like Detective Kusanagi is suggesting. Don’t you think that Mr Mashiba would have at least offered her a cup of coffee?’
‘Not everybody would. Especially if he didn’t welcome the visit.’
‘How would an unwelcome person get poison into the kettle, then? Wouldn’t Mr Mashiba have seen?’
‘They might’ve had a chance if, say, he had to go to the bathroom. If they hung around long enough that an opportunity presented itself.’
‘Not a very solid plan. What do you think they would have done if Mr Mashiba didn’t use the bathroom?’
‘They might’ve had a backup plan, or they might have been prepared to call the whole thing off if the right moment didn’t arise. There’s no risk to the killer that way.’
‘Professor Yukawa,’ Utsumi said, staring the physicist in the eyes. ‘Whose side are you on, anyway?’
‘If you must know, I’m on nobody’s side. I simply want to analyze the data, perform the necessary experiments, and come up with the most logical answer I can find. Currently, your side’s losing, that’s all.’
Utsumi bit her lip. ‘I’d like to amend my previous statement,’ she said. ‘In all honesty, I do suspect Mrs Mashiba. Even if she didn’t do it, at the very least, she was involved. Call me stubborn, but that’s what I believe.’
‘So that’s how it is, is it? I’m surprised.’ Yukawa chuckled. ‘What was the reason you suspect her, again? The champagne glasses? You thought it was odd that she hadn’t replaced them in the cupboard, as I recall.’
‘There were other reasons, too. The night of the murder, our department left a message on her phone. I asked the officer who called her, and he said that he left a message saying he had urgent news concerning her husband, and wanted her to call back. When she called around twelve o’clock that night, he explained the general facts of the case. At the time he didn’t mention there was a possibility Mr Mashiba was murdered.’
‘Hmm. And?’
‘The next day, Mrs Mashiba took the first flight back to Tokyo. Detective Kusanagi and I picked her up at the airport, and in the car, she called Hiromi Wakayama and told her, “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through”,’ Utsumi said, recalling the mood in the car. ‘That struck me as strange.’
‘Couldn’t imagine what she’d been through, huh?’ Yukawa muttered, tapping his knee lightly with one finger. ‘That would suggest the conversation in the car was the first she’d had with Ms Wakayama after hearing ab
out the death.’
‘That’s what I thought. That’s exactly what I thought,’ Utsumi said, a smile slowly spreading across her face. ‘Mrs Mashiba left her house key with Hiromi Wakayama before leaving for Hokkaido. But she was already onto the relationship between her husband and Hiromi before leaving. If she’d heard that her husband died under unusual circumstances, don’t you think she would have tried to call Hiromi right away? Not only that, but she didn’t even call their friends, the Ikais. It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘And what is your deduction from all this, Detective Utsumi?’
‘I think she didn’t call Hiromi or the Ikais because she didn’t need to. She knew exactly why her husband had died, so why call to ask for details?’
Yukawa grinned and scratched his lip. ‘Have you shared this theory with anyone?’
‘I told Chief Inspector Mamiya.’
‘And not Kusanagi.’
‘Detective Kusanagi would just tell me to stop basing everything on “feelings”.’
Yukawa frowned and got up to walk over to the sink. ‘That kind of assumption will get you into trouble. I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but Kusanagi’s quite a gifted detective. Even supposing he has feelings for a particular suspect, he’s not the kind to abandon reason. What you just told me wouldn’t necessarily change his mind on the spot, of course; he’d probably start off with a rebuttal, but he wouldn’t ignore you. And he would think about it. Even if the conclusions he comes up with aren’t the ones you want, he won’t turn a blind eye to evidence.’
‘You seem to trust him quite a lot.’
‘If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have helped with so many of his cases,’ Yukawa said, his lips parting in a white-toothed smile. He scooped some coffee into the coffeemaker.
‘What about you?’ Utsumi asked. ‘What do you think about my idea?’
‘It makes a lot of sense. I would expect someone who’d heard her husband had died to try to get all the information she could as soon as possible. It’s extremely odd that the wife didn’t try to contact anyone.’
‘I’m glad you agree.’