‘Right, that place. Yukawa specifically requested we get it tested there. I’d imagine Utsumi is running around Metropolitan right now putting that request together.’
Spring-8 was the name of a radiology facility in Hyogo Prefecture, the largest in the world. Its ability to detect even the most minute traces of material had made it a popular choice for delicate Forensics work; their role in the poisoned curry case had put it on the map.
‘So Yukawa thinks the poison was in the filter?’
‘According to what Utsumi was saying, yes.’
‘But I thought he was saying there was no way to—’ Kusanagi stopped himself short.
‘What?’ Mamiya raised an eyebrow.
‘Nothing. Just, I was supposed to meet with him later on. He said he’d hit upon a trick – maybe he meant a trick for getting poison into the filtration system?’
‘That seemed to be what Utsumi was indicating – that Yukawa had figured it out. But apparently, he wouldn’t tell her exactly what the trick was. He’s as stubborn as he is brilliant,’ Mamiya added, shaking his head.
‘He wouldn’t tell me how the trick works, either,’ Kusa -nagi said.
A wry smile spread across the chief’s face. ‘Well, since he’s helping us for free, I suppose we can’t complain. And if he’s going through all the trouble of calling you over there, he’s probably got some good advice for us. Go and hear him out.’
It was already past eight when Kusanagi arrived at the university. He called Yukawa as he stepped out of the taxi, but there was no answer. As he made his way across the campus he called again; after he’d let it ring several times, Yukawa finally picked up.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t hear the phone.’
‘You in the lab?’
‘No, the gym. You remember the place?’
‘How could I forget?’
Kusanagi turned off the phone and headed for the gym. Just inside the main gate of the university, a little off to the left, stood a grey building with an arched roof. Kusanagi had spent more time there than in his dorm back when he was in college. This was where he had met Yukawa. Then they both were fit and trim, but now the only one with an athletic figure was the professor.
When he made it to the athletic facility, a young man in a tracksuit came out of the front door, badminton racquet in hand. He nodded to Kusanagi as he passed. Inside, the detective found Yukawa sitting on a bench, putting on a windbreaker. Kusanagi glanced at the court and saw that the nets were up.
‘Now I finally understand why there are so many old professors. They get to use the university facilities as a free personal gym their whole lives.’
Yukawa looked up, unperturbed. ‘There’s nothing personal about it,’ he said. ‘I have to reserve my time on the courts just like everybody else. And I take issue with your basic premise that university professors live long lives. First of all, it takes a considerable amount of time and effort even to become a professor, which would suggest that one needs to meet a certain standard of health just to get the job. You’re confusing causes with results.’
Kusanagi gave a dry cough, and looked down at Yukawa over folded arms. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
‘Don’t be in such a rush. How about it?’ Yukawa said, offering a racquet to Kusanagi.
‘I didn’t come here to play games – badminton included.’
‘I applaud your dedication to your work,’ Yukawa said, ‘but I can’t help but notice that your waist size has grown by at least nine centimetres over the last several years – and that’s being generous. I’d have to theorize that walking around questioning people isn’t quite enough to keep you in shape.’
‘Well, when you put it that way …’ Kusanagi took off his jacket and grabbed the racquet.
The two took to the court, facing each other across the net for the first time in at least twenty years. Yet despite the time lapse everything was instantly familiar to Kusanagi: the feel of the racquet, the look of the nets, the squeak of the floor. But the flow of the game, the angles of racquet and shuttlecock didn’t come back so readily; and it was painfully clear to him that his stamina was sadly lacking. In less than ten minutes he was hunched over, breathing hard.
Kusanagi watched as Yukawa smashed the shuttlecock into the empty half of the court. He sat down on the floor. ‘Guess I’m getting old,’ he said. ‘Though I can still arm wrestle our young recruits to the floor, I’ll have you know.’
‘The kind of fast-twitch muscles you use in arm wrestling can grow weak with age and still spring back with a little training. But the slow muscles responsible for maintaining stamina aren’t so elastic. That includes the heart. I highly recommend regular training,’ Yukawa said matter-of-factly. His breathing was calm and even compared to Kusanagi’s ragged gasps.
Bastard, Kusanagi thought. Still sitting, Kusanagi leaned back against the wall. Yukawa pulled out a water bottle and poured some into the lid, which he offered to his friend. Kusanagi took a sip. It was a sports drink of some kind, and very cold.
‘It’s just like being back in school, huh? Except I’m completely out of shape.’
‘If you don’t keep at it, strength and technique will both weaken. I kept at it, you didn’t. That’s all.’
‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’
‘No,’ Yukawa said, a curious look on his face. ‘Am I supposed to be trying to make you feel better?’
Kusanagi chuckled, picked himself off the floor, and then returned the bottle lid to the physicist. His face grew serious. ‘So you think the poison was in the filter?’
Yukawa nodded. ‘As I said on the phone, I can’t prove anything yet. But I’m pretty sure it was.’
‘You did some follow-up tests?’
‘I actually tried a test here at the university. We acquired four copies of the exact same filter, laced each with arsenous acid, rinsed them several times, and then tried to see if we could find any traces. Of course, with our lab here, we were restricted to induction-coupled plasma analysis.’
‘Induction-coupled what?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Just think of it as an extremely sensitive analytical method. We tested the four filters, and found clear traces in two of them, while the other two gave us insubstantial findings. A very special coating was used on that particular make of filter, making it extremely difficult for minute particles to adhere to the surface. According to Utsumi, Forensics used atomic absorption analysis on the Mashiba filter, which is an even less accurate method than the one I used. Thus, Spring-8.’
‘You must be pretty sure about this to go that far.’
‘I wouldn’t say I am absolutely sure, but it’s really the only option remaining.’
‘So how did the killer get the poison in there? I thought you said it was impossible.’
Yukawa fell silent. He was gripping his towel in both hands.
‘You think it is this trick of yours,’ Kusanagi said after a moment. ‘But you won’t tell me what it is.’
‘Like I told Utsumi, I don’t want to give either of you preconceived notions.’
‘Why would my preconceived notions have anything to do with the trick used to poison the filter?’
‘It has everything to do with it,’ Yukawa said, staring directly at the detective. ‘If the trick I’m thinking of was used, it’s highly likely that there will be some telltale trace remaining. That’s why I had the filter sent on to Spring-8, to find that trace. But even if they find no trace, it doesn’t prove that the trick wasn’t used. That’s the kind of problem we’re dealing with here.’
‘So why can’t you tell me?’
‘Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I explained the trick to you now. If, later on, we found some trace that proved the trick had been used, no problem. But what if we don’t? Would you be able to reset your thinking at that point? Would you still be able to allow the possibility the trick had been used?’
‘Well, sure, if there was no proof the trick hadn’t been used
.’
‘That’s what I have a problem with,’ Yukawa said.
‘Explain.’
‘I didn’t want anyone to suspect a particular person in the absence of proof. And there’s only one person in the world who could have used this trick.’
Kusanagi glanced at the professor’s eyes behind his glasses. ‘Ayane Mashiba?’
Yukawa gave a slow blink, which Kusanagi took for a yes. He gave a deep sigh. ‘Fine, then. I’ll just keep on with my investigation and hope for a breakthrough. I finally got something like a lead, you know.’
‘Do tell.’
‘I found one of Yoshitaka Mashiba’s ex-girlfriends. And there’s a connection to the case.’ Kusanagi explained how Junko Tsukui had committed suicide using arsenous acid.
‘And this was two years ago?’ Yukawa asked, his gaze wandering off into the distance.
‘Yes, which is why, trick or no trick, I’m happy investigating my own way. This case isn’t as simple as a wife taking revenge for her husband’s infidelity. I think it’s a lot more complicated than that.’
Yukawa looked up at Kusanagi and a smile spread across his face.
‘What’s that for?’ the detective asked. ‘You think I’m barking up the wrong tree, don’t you?’
‘Not at all. I was just thinking that I really didn’t need to bring you all the way over here today after all.’
Kusanagi frowned, not understanding.
‘You see,’ Yukawa continued, ‘what I wanted to tell you was exactly that: the roots of this case are deep. We can’t afford to look only at the events around Mashiba’s death, we need to go as far into the past as we’re able, and to look at everything from every angle. What you just told me about this ex-girlfriend is particularly interesting – especially the part about the arsenous acid.’
‘Now you’ve lost me,’ Kusanagi grunted. ‘Don’t you suspect Mrs Mashiba? Why should the past matter?’
‘It does matter, very much,’ Yukawa said, picking up his racquet and his sports bag. ‘My muscles are getting cold. Let’s get going.’
They left the gymnasium together. As they neared the front gate, Yukawa stopped. ‘I’m heading back to the lab. Want some coffee?’
‘Was there something else you had to tell me?’
‘Nothing right now.’
‘Then I’ll take a rain check. I’ve got some stuff to do back at the station.’
‘Right,’ Yukawa said, turning to leave.
‘Hey,’ Kusanagi called out. ‘Ayane made a patchwork jacket for her father once. She sewed a pillow in at the waist, to cushion him if he slipped on the ice and fell.’
Yukawa turned. ‘And?’
‘She doesn’t act irrationally. She’s the kind of person who can consider her own actions in advance. I don’t think someone like that would commit murder just because her husband betrayed her.’
‘Your detective’s intuition tell you that?’
‘I’m just giving you my impression. Regardless of whether you and Utsumi think I have special feelings for Mrs Mashiba.’
Yukawa’s eyes dropped to the ground for a moment before he looked back up and said, ‘I don’t care if you have special feelings for her or not. I don’t think you’re so weak a person as to let your feelings influence your detective work. And another thing,’ he said, lifting his index finger. ‘What you say is certainly correct. Ayane is no fool.’
‘So you don’t suspect her?’
Yukawa lifted his hand and waved, then turned his back and walked away.
TWENTY-THREE
Kusanagi took a deep breath before pressing the intercom button. He stared at the small placard on the door that read ‘Anne’s House’, bemusedly wondering why he felt so tense.
There was no response from the intercom, but after a moment Ayane opened the door. She gave him an oddly gentle look, as if she were a mother looking at her son. ‘Right on time, I see,’ she said.
‘Huh? Oh, right,’ Kusanagi murmured with a glance at his watch. It was exactly two P.M. – the time he had set when he called.
She opened the door wider and invited him inside.
The last time Kusanagi had visited the school was when he had brought Hiromi Wakayama down to the station for questioning. Though he hadn’t really looked around the place then, something felt different about it today. The workstations and the furniture were all still there, but the place seemed somehow less alive.
He took the seat offered to him and gazed around the big room while Ayane poured tea, a wry smile on her face. ‘It looks barren in here, I know. I never realized how many things Hiromi had brought in until they were gone.’
Kusanagi wasn’t surprised to hear that Hiromi had quit. Most women would have hit the road the moment the secret was out.
Ayane had left her hotel yesterday to take up residence here at the school. She wasn’t planning to move back into the house – which made sense to Kusanagi. It was the scene of a murder, after all.
The widow placed a teacup in front of the detective. He thanked her.
‘I went there this morning,’ Ayane said, sitting across from him.
‘To your house?’
She put a finger on the edge of her cup, nodding. ‘Yes, to water the flowers. They were all wilted.’
Kusanagi frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I have the key and everything, but I’ve been so busy—’
She waved off his apology. ‘No, don’t worry about it, please. I never should’ve asked for that sort of favour in the first place. Honestly, I didn’t say it out of spite.’
‘I really meant to water them, I just forgot. I’ll be more careful from now on.’
Ayane shook her head. ‘Please, it’s quite all right. I’m going to make a point of going there every day to take care of them myself.’
‘I see … well, then, I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Maybe I should return your key?’
Ayane thought for a moment, then stared at the detective. ‘Are you finished with that part of your investigation, or will you need to go back in?’
‘Well, that’s difficult to say,’ Kusanagi admitted.
‘Then please hold onto it. That way you don’t have to come and ask me every time someone needs access.’
‘Right. I’ll be sure to keep it safe,’ Kusanagi said, patting his left breast pocket.
‘That reminds me – were you the one who brought that big watering can?’
Kusanagi paused, teacup raised to his mouth, and waved his free hand. ‘Oh, that,’ he said. ‘Well, I liked the empty can you had before, but, ah, I thought a proper watering can might be more convenient. I’m sorry if it was an imposition.’
‘No, not at all. I had no idea they even made such large watering cans. It was very convenient, so much so that I wish I’d bought one earlier. Thank you.’
‘That’s a relief, then,’ Kusanagi said. ‘I was afraid you might have been attached to that can of yours.’
‘Why would anyone be attached to a can? I take it you threw it out?’
‘Yes … I hope that’s not a problem?’
‘No, not at all. You did me a favour.’
Ayane lowered her head, smiling. Just then the school’s phone – sitting on a nearby shelf – began to ring. She stood up to answer it.
‘Anne’s House, can I help you? Ms Ota? Hello! … What? Oh, I see.’
Though she was still smiling, Kusanagi could see the corners of Ayane’s mouth tense. By the time she hung up the phone, she was frowning.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said, sitting back down.
‘Is something wrong?’ Kusanagi asked.
A lonely look came into her eyes as she spoke. ‘It was one of my students. Something came up with her family and she’s had to quit. She’s been coming here for more than three years.’
‘I guess it’s tough running a family and keeping up a hobby like this.’
Ayane smiled. ‘Actually, people have been quitting right and left since yesterday. She’s the fifth one to leave.??
?
‘Because of the case?’
‘A bit, maybe. But I think Hiromi leaving has had a larger effect. She’s been teaching full-time for the last year, and I think many of the students thought of themselves as her students.’
‘So when she left, they left?’
‘Nothing so organized as that, but I think they’re noticing a shift in the mood at school. Women are sensitive to these things, you know.’
‘Right …’ Kusanagi said, not really understanding. He had been under the impression that people came to the school in order to learn techniques from the master herself. Shouldn’t they be happy that Ayane would now be teaching them directly, instead of through an apprentice?
Utsumi would probably understand, he thought glumly, a vision of the smiling junior detective appearing in his mind.
‘I’m sure more will quit in the coming days. These things tend to be a chain reaction. Maybe I should close the school altogether. At least for a while.’ Ayane sat for a moment with her head bowed, resting her chin on one hand. Then abruptly she straightened in her seat. ‘I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with why you’re here, does it, Detective Kusanagi?’
She looked at him directly, and Kusanagi reflexively averted his eyes. ‘I know a lot of things are up in the air right now, and I apologize,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Believe me when I say that we are doing everything in our power to resolve this case as quickly as possible. In the meantime, maybe it would be a good idea for you to take a break.’
‘I think you’re right,’ she said. ‘A little trip might be just the thing. I haven’t travelled for quite some time. Certainly nothing like I used to. Once I even went overseas by myself.’
‘That’s right – England, wasn’t it?’
‘Did my parents mention that? It was quite a while ago.’ Ayane’s eyes drifted downward, then she lifted her head. ‘That’s right, there was something I wanted you to help me with, if it’s all right?’
‘Sure thing,’ Kusanagi said, setting his teacup down on the table.
‘It’s this wall,’ Ayane said, looking up at the wall closest to them. ‘It’s a little bare.’
Indeed, the wall was completely empty, save for the faint outline showing where, until recently, something had hung.