‘I’ll get right on these,’ he told the detective as he left.
The man from the filtration system company arrived a short time later, and Kusanagi watched him start replacing the filter and hose before returning to the living room. Ayane was sitting on the sofa, a glum look on her face. Beside her was a bag containing the clothes she had taken from her bedroom.
Still committed to not living here for a while, Kusanagi noted.
‘Sorry about all the fuss,’ the detective apologized.
‘No, it’s fine,’ she said. ‘I’m happy that at least the filter got changed.’
‘I’ll talk to the chief about getting that paid for.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’m the one who’s going to be using it, after all.’ Ayane smiled briefly before her expression turned serious again. ‘Was there something wrong with the filter? Was that where the poison was?’
‘We’re not sure. We’re just looking into every possibility right now.’
‘Well, if it was the filter, how would someone have put poison in there?’
‘Er, good question …’ Kusanagi said, looking towards Yukawa, who was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, watching the serviceman work. ‘Hey, Yukawa,’ he called out.
Yukawa turned around, but to Ayane, not the detective. ‘Is it true that your husband only drank bottled water?’ he asked.
Kusanagi blinked, and watched to see Ayane’s reaction.
She nodded. ‘Yes. That’s why we always have a supply in the fridge.’
‘I’ve heard he asked you to use bottled water when you made coffee, too?’
‘He did.’
‘But ultimately, you didn’t always use the bottled water. Is that correct?’
Kusanagi’s eyes opened wider. He hadn’t told Yukawa any of these details, which meant that Utsumi was feeding him privileged information. Kusanagi pictured her smiling face, and he scowled.
‘Well, no. It’s not very cost-effective,’ Ayane replied, her expression softening. ‘And honestly, I never thought tap water was as bad for you as he claimed. Besides, hot water boils faster. I doubt he ever noticed.’
‘I’d have to agree,’ the physicist said. ‘I don’t think the choice of tap water versus mineral water would have much of an effect on the taste of the coffee at all.’
Sage wisdom from a guy who used to drink only instant coffee.
Kusanagi shot his friend a mocking look.
Yukawa either failed to notice or chose to pay the detective no mind. ‘The woman who made coffee on Sunday,’ he said. ‘What was her name again? Your assistant …’
‘Hiromi Wakayama,’ Kusanagi reminded him.
‘That’s right, Ms Wakayama. So … she also used tap water at your direction? And nothing happened when she did. Which leads one to think that the poison was probably in the bottled water. But there is another kind of water available here, filtered water, from the filtration system set up next to the regular tap. It’s possible that for some reason, perhaps to avoid wasting the bottled water in the fridge, your husband used water from that, which would lead me to suspect the water filter.’
‘Well, that’s true … but is it even possible to poison a filtration system? I mean, wouldn’t it filter the poison out?’
‘Not necessarily. Either way, I’m sure we’ll hear from Forensics soon.’
‘Well, if the poison was in the filtration system, then when was it put there?’ Ayane asked, focusing on Kusanagi. ‘I know I’ve already told you this a hundred times, but we had that party here on Friday night, and the water filter was fine then.’
‘So it would seem,’ Yukawa said. ‘Which would mean that if it was poisoned, it happened afterwards. And, if we assume the killer only wanted to poison your husband, then they would have set their sights on a time when he would be alone.’
‘Meaning after I left the house – assuming I’m not the killer, of course.’
‘Exactly,’ Yukawa said.
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Kusanagi cautioned. ‘We don’t know whether or not the filtration system was poisoned yet.’ He excused himself and left the living room with a meaningful glance at Yukawa.
Kusanagi stood in the entrance hall until Yukawa joined him. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked his friend, his voice low, but sharp.
‘What do you mean, “what am I doing”?’
‘What do you mean, “what do you mean”? You’re basically telling her she’s the suspect. Don’t go taking Utsumi’s side just because she was the one who asked for your help.’
Yukawa’s forehead crinkled between the eyebrows. He looked surprised. ‘Now, that’s baseless conjecture if I ever heard it. Since when have I taken Utsumi’s side? I’m just working through the facts in a completely rational manner. You might try it yourself. The bereaved widow in there seems to be a lot more collected than you are.’
Kusanagi bit his lip, but just as he was about to respond, he heard a door open. The serviceman was walking towards them from the living room, with Ayane close behind.
‘He’s done replacing the filter,’ she told them.
‘Thanks,’ Kusanagi told the serviceman. ‘About the bill …’
‘I’ve already paid it,’ Ayane said.
‘Oh,’ Kusanagi replied weakly.
Once the man had left, Yukawa began putting on his shoes, looking up at Kusanagi. ‘Well, I should be going,’ he announced. ‘You?’
‘I’ll be here bit longer,’ the detective replied. ‘I have a few more things to check with Mrs Mashiba.’
‘I see. Well, thanks for your time,’ Yukawa said to Ayane, lowering his head.
‘Not at all,’ she said to his back as he left. Kusanagi watched him walk out to the street, then sighed. ‘Sorry about all that. He’s not a bad person, just not very thoughtful. A bit eccentric, you might say.’
‘Oh?’ Ayane looked surprised. ‘There’s no need for you to apologize. He seemed fine to me.’
‘Well, that’s good.’
‘You said he was a professor at Imperial University? It’s funny. When I think of the professorial type, I always picture someone quiet and reserved. But he wasn’t like that at all, was he?’
‘Even academics come in all types, and that guy in particular’s a special case.’
Ayane smiled. ‘You two seem close.’
‘Oh, well … I forgot to mention we were classmates back in college. Completely different majors, though.’
The two returned to the living room, where Kusanagi told Ayane how he and Yukawa were in the same badminton club, and how the physicist had started helping with investigations during a particularly thorny case.
‘I always think it’s great when people are able to keep in touch with old friends through their work.’
‘Yeah, well, sometimes it can get a little stale.’
‘Oh, I doubt that. I’m envious.’
Kusanagi smiled. ‘At least you have a friend to go to the hot springs with back home.’
Ayane nodded, then her eyes widened as a realization came to her. ‘That’s right, you visited my parents’ home. My mother mentioned it.’
‘Yes, we had to cover the bases, and all that. I’m not sure we accomplished much on that trip, but that’s always the chance you take,’ Kusanagi added hastily.
Ayane smiled at him. ‘Of course. It’s very important to know if I really went home or not. I understand.’
‘I’m glad that you’re so understanding. I wouldn’t want you to feel like we were singling you out.’
‘My mother said you seemed like a very nice detective. So I told her maybe the investigation wouldn’t be so bad after all.’
Kusanagi chuckled and scratched his neck in embarrassment.
‘And you met my friend, Ms Motooka?’ Ayane asked. Sakiko Motooka was the friend who had joined Ayane on her trip to the hot springs.
‘Actually, Utsumi went to speak with her. She told me that Ms Motooka mentioned she’d been worried about you from before the
– the unfortunate incident. She said you seemed much more tired than you ever did before you got married.’
A lonely smile came to Ayane’s face, and she breathed a light sigh. ‘She said that, did she? I guess that’s old friends for you. You do your best to hide it, and they see right through you.’
‘But you didn’t talk to her about your husband asking for a divorce?’
She shook her head. ‘It didn’t even occur to me to tell her. I guess I just wanted to forget about the situation for a while … And it’s not really something I felt I needed to talk to anyone about. You know, we made a promise before he got married, that if we couldn’t have a child we’d split up. Of course, I never told my parents.’
‘I heard from Mr Ikai that your husband regarded marriage as a means to having children, and little else. I have to admit, I was surprised to learn that there are men like that.’
‘Oh, I wanted a child, too,’ Ayane explained. ‘I assumed we’d have one right away, so I admit I never thought too deeply about that promise. But after we’d gone a year with nothing … the gods can be cruel sometimes.’ Her eyes dropped to the table for a moment before she looked up again. ‘Do you have any children, Detective Kusanagi?’
Kusanagi smiled thinly and looked back at her. ‘I’m single.’
‘Oh,’ she said, her lips parting. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need to be. People tell me to hurry up now and then, but it’s hard when you don’t have somebody … My friend Yukawa’s single, too.’
‘Yes, he struck me as a single man. Doesn’t really give off a domestic vibe, does he?’
‘Well, unlike your late husband, he hates children. Their “lack of the capacity for reason” stresses him out. Can you believe it?’
‘He’s a very interesting individual.’
‘I’ll let him know you said that. Actually, not to change the subject, but I have a question about your husband.’
‘Yes?’
‘Did he happen to have any friends who were painters?’
‘Painters? You mean, like, artists?’
‘Yes. It doesn’t have to be somebody he’d seen recently. Maybe someone he mentioned having known in the past?’
Ayane thought for a bit, then looked at him curiously. ‘Is this person involved with the case?’
‘That I don’t know. I may have mentioned the other day that we’re looking into your husband’s previous relationships. And we found out that he might’ve been dating a painter of some kind.’
‘I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I never heard about any artists. Do you know around when this might have been?’
‘Not exactly, but I’d say roughly two or three years ago.’
‘Sorry,’ Ayane said after a moment’s thought. ‘If there was someone like that, he never told me.’
‘I see, no problem then.’ Kusanagi glanced at his watch and stood up from the sofa. ‘Sorry to take so much of your time. I should be leaving.’
‘I’m heading back to the hotel myself,’ Ayane said, collecting her bag as she stood.
The two left the Mashiba residence together. Ayane locked the door behind them.
‘I can get that bag for you. Let’s walk until we get to a place where we can find a taxi,’ Kusanagi said, extending his hand.
Ayane thanked him and handed him the bag. Then, turning to look back at the house, she said quietly, ‘I wonder if the day will ever come when I move back.’
Unable to think of anything appropriate to say, Kusanagi strolled alongside her in silence.
SEVENTEEN
According to the chart on the door, Yukawa was alone inside the laboratory – exactly as Utsumi had expected. She knocked on the door.
‘Come in,’ came the curt reply. She entered to find Yukawa in the middle of making coffee. He was using a dripper and a filter.
‘Good timing,’ Yukawa said, pouring two cups.
‘I’m surprised. You’re not using your coffeemaker?’
‘That’s right. I thought I’d try being a coffee snob for a while. I even used mineral water,’ Yukawa said, holding out a cup.
‘Thanks.’ Utsumi accepted the drink and took a sip. One taste told her that he hadn’t upgraded his choice of grind.
‘Well? How is it?’ Yukawa asked.
‘Delicious.’
‘More delicious than usual?’
Utsumi hesitated a moment before saying, ‘Can I be frank?’
A despondent look came over Yukawa’s face and he turned back to his chair. ‘No need. I’m guessing your reaction is exactly the same as mine.’ He peered inside his coffee cup. ‘You know, a little bit ago, I used tap water to make the coffee. The results were exactly the same. Or at least, so similar I couldn’t tell the difference.’
‘I don’t think anyone could tell the difference, really.’
‘And yet it’s commonly agreed upon in culinary circles that water does make a difference to taste,’ Yukawa said, picking up a sheet of paper from his desk. ‘Water has a hardness, which is calculated by comparing total calcium ions and magnesium ions to the water’s calcium carbonate content. If the ratio’s low, the water is soft. A little higher means medium hardness. A lot higher and it’s hard water.’
‘I’ve heard of that.’
‘Apparently, soft water is best for most cooking. The point is the calcium content. If, for example, you use water that’s high in calcium when you cook rice, the calcium fuses with the rice fibres, and you end up with drier rice.’
Utsumi quirked an eyebrow. ‘Not good for making sushi.’
‘Conversely, if you’re trying to make a beef stock, hard water is preferable. The calcium fuses with the excess fluid in the meat and bones, making it rise to the surface so you can scoop it out. Something to remember the next time I do a consommé.’
‘You cook?’
‘Sometimes,’ Yukawa replied, setting the paper down.
Utsumi tried to picture the professor standing in his kitchen. An image popped into her mind – Yukawa with a wrinkled brow, hovering over a pot of soup, adjusting the water content and the strength of the flame as if it were some kind of science experiment.
‘So, any word?’ Yukawa asked.
‘Forensics got back to us. I have a report,’ Utsumi said, pulling a file out of her shoulder bag.
‘Let’s hear it.’ Yukawa sipped his coffee.
‘No arsenous acid was found in either the filter or the hose. However, they go on to note that even if there had been any poison in there, running a sufficient quantity of water through the filter would be enough to make any traces undetectable. The next part gets sticky,’ Utsumi said, taking a breath before continuing. ‘The filter and hose both showed a considerable buildup of undisturbed grime from long years of use, making it unlikely that either had been tampered with. Any recent removal of the filter or hose would have left some indication. There was some additional material: apparently, Forensics also checked beneath the sink for poison on the day of Mr Mashiba’s death. At the time, they moved the old detergent and containers that were sitting in front of the filter, and were able to confirm that only where those objects had been sitting was the dust beneath the sink disturbed.’
‘So not only the filter, but the entire area under the sink hadn’t been touched for some time?’
‘That’s what Forensics thinks, at least.’
‘Well, I agree with them.That was certainly the impression I got when I first looked under there. But, there is one other thing they should have checked on.’
‘I know what you’re going to say. Could poison have been inserted into the filter from the other direction – via the tap, right?’
‘That’s what inquiring minds want to know. Their answer?’
‘Though theoretically possible,’ Utsumi said, ‘realistically, it’s impossible.’
Yukawa took another sip of his coffee and frowned – not because the coffee was bitter, Utsumi guessed.
‘They tried your idea about using a long tube, like
a stomach camera, inserting it into the tap end all the way up to the filter, then introducting the poison up through the tube, but they couldn’t get it to work. The problem was that the joint where the tap connects to the filter is practically a right angle, and they couldn’t get the tube to go around it. It might be possible if one were to use a specialized tool with a manipulable tip—’
‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go on,’ Yukawa said, scratching his head. ‘I don’t think our killer went to such technical extremes. Looks like I have to give up on the filter theory. Too bad; I had high hopes for that one. What we need now is another shift in approach. There has to be a blind spot somewhere.’
He poured the remaining coffee in the server into his own cup. A little spilled, and Utsumi heard the professor grind his teeth.
So he does get irritated, she thought. Such a simple question: where did the killer put that poison? And yet he can’t figure it out. None of us can.
‘What is our famous detective friend up to?’ Yukawa asked.
‘He’s gone to Mr Mashiba’s office to ask some more questions.’
‘Hmph.’
‘Did you hear something from him?’
Yukawa shook his head and took another sip. ‘I was with him the other day and we ran into Mrs Mashiba.’
‘So I heard.’
‘We talked a bit. She is a beautiful woman – enchanting, even.’
‘Were you helpless before her charms, Professor?’
‘I was merely reporting an objective observation. That, and I was a little worried about Kusanagi.’
‘Really? Did something happen?’
‘Not something happening, per se, just another obser -vation – one that requires the telling of a tale to be understood.
‘Once, back when we were in college, Kusanagi picked up these stray cats – kittens, actually, just born. They were both really weak, and anyone could see they weren’t long for this world. But he brought them up to his room anyway, and he skipped class to take care of them. He was using an eye-dropper to feed them milk. One of his friends asked him, “What’s the point? They’re just going to die anyway.” I remember his answer: “So what?” That’s all he said.’ Yukawa gazed off into the distance. ‘Kusanagi’s eyes when he looked at that woman were just like his eyes when he was taking care of those kittens. He knows something’s not quite right. And at the same time he’s saying to himself, “So what?”’