The faintest blush came to Ayane’s cheeks, but the smile remained upon her lips. ‘Do you have evidence that there was poison in the water filter?’
‘Arsenous acid was detected in the filter after thorough testing. However, that was insufficient proof, given that all indications were that the killer put the poison in the filter a whole year earlier. What we needed to prove was that the poison was present in sufficient quantities to be lethal on the day of Mr Mashiba’s death. In other words, we needed to prove that the water filter had not been used, washing out the poison inside, for an entire year.’
Utsumi noted that Ayane’s long eyelashes twitched at the precise moment Kusanagi said ‘an entire year’.
‘And did you prove it?’
‘I myself was flabbergasted when I first heard the theory that the killer had put the poison in place an entire year ago,’ Kusanagi said. ‘But you don’t seem surprised at all, Mrs Mashiba.’
‘I’m sorry if I’m not reacting. It’s just that everything you’re saying is so outlandish, I wouldn’t know where to begin.’
‘I see,’ Kusanagi said. He shot Utsumi a look. The junior detective reached into her handbag and pulled out a plastic bag.
The smile finally faded from Ayane’s face as she saw what was in the bag.
‘I’m sure you recognize this,’ Kusanagi said. ‘You opened holes in the bottom of this empty can to water your flowers.’
‘I thought you threw that out …’
‘I held onto it, actually. Didn’t even wash it,’ Kusanagi said, a hard look returning to his face. ‘You remember my friend Yukawa, the physicist? I had him examine this can in his lab. To make a long story short, he found arsenous acid. We were also able to determine that the acid had been in water from your filter. I also happen to have been present the last time this can was used – you were watering the flowers on your second-floor balcony. Hiromi Wakayama came and interrupted you halfway through. The can wasn’t used after that, because I bought a new watering can, and kept this one in my desk drawer.’
Ayane’s eyes went wide. ‘In your desk drawer? Why?’
Kusanagi didn’t answer. Instead, he said, in a voice completely devoid of emotion, ‘We have to conclude that there was arsenous acid in the water filter, enough so that any water from that filter would’ve contained a lethal amount on the day Mr Mashiba died. Other evidence shows clearly that the poison was inserted into the filter a year ago. The person who would have been able to carry out this crime was someone who could have prevented anyone from using that filter for an entire year – and there’s only one person who could have done that.’
Utsumi swallowed, still watching Ayane’s face. Their beautiful suspect’s eyes were downcast, her lips tightly shut. Though a trace of a smile lingered on her face, the aura of elegance around her had begun to fade.
‘We’ll talk more at the station,’ Kusanagi said.
Ayane looked up. She breathed a deep sigh, and stared directly at Kusanagi. ‘All right. I’ll just be a bit longer.’
‘No rush. Take your time getting your things together.’
‘It’s not just that. I also want to water the flowers. I hadn’t finished when you arrived.’
‘By all means.’
Ayane nodded and opened the door to the balcony. Hefting the large watering can in both hands, she slowly began to sprinkle the potted flowers.
THIRTY-TWO
Ayane recalled a day about one year earlier when she was watering her flowers, just as she was doing now. The day she heard the truth from Yoshitaka. She had listened to him while she stared at the pansies in the planter.
Her friend Junko had loved pansies. The pen name she chose, ‘Violet Butterfly’, was a nickname for the flower.
She had met Junko in a bookshop in London. Ayane was there looking for patchwork designs. She reached out for a book of photos just as another girl reached for the same book. The other girl was Japanese, too, and several years older than Ayane.
The two became close friends in no time at all, exploring London together, and they made an effort to keep in touch once they returned to Japan. Junko moved to Tokyo a short while after Ayane arrived in the city.
Though they were both busy with work, and didn’t meet often, they remained close. Junko was one of the few people with whom Ayane felt she could truly be herself. She knew that Junko valued their friendship as much as she did – maybe even more. Junko was even worse than she was at meeting people.
Then one day Junko told her there was someone she wanted Ayane to meet: the CEO of a company that had used one of her character designs in an online anime.
‘We were talking about making some toys to go with the character, and when I told him I knew a patchwork specialist, he said he had to meet you. I know you’re busy, but if you have any time at all, it might be worth it.’
Junko sounded hesitant to impose, but Ayane was delighted. And that was how she had met Yoshitaka Mashiba.
In a word, Yoshitaka was alluring. His face came alive when he talked about his ideas, and his eyes brimmed with confidence. He was good at getting other people to talk, too, so much so that just chatting with him for a few minutes had made her feel eloquent.
They were walking away from the café after he had left when Ayane smiled and said, ‘What a great guy.’
‘Isn’t he?’ Junko said, happily. One look at her friend’s face revealed the extent of Junko’s feelings for Yoshitaka.
Even now, Ayane regretted not asking her, not making sure. All she would’ve had to ask was, ‘Are you two dating?’ But she didn’t, and Junko offered nothing.
The plan to include patchwork in one of the character designs was ultimately scrapped. Afterwards, Yoshitaka called her directly to apologize for taking up her time. He offered to treat her to dinner in the near future to make up for it.
Ayane assumed he was just being polite, but a few days later he called again with a real invitation. The way he invited her made it clear that he was inviting only her – Junko wasn’t involved. I guess they’re not dating, she told herself.
She met Yoshitaka for dinner, her heart fluttering. Being alone, just the two of them, was even more fun than the last time she had seen him.
Ayane’s feelings towards Yoshitaka grew rapidly. At the same time, she could feel herself pulling away from Junko. Knowing her friend’s interest in Yoshitaka made it somehow harder to pick up the phone and call her.
When she met Junko again several months later, she was startled at the change in the other woman. Junko had become shockingly thin, and she looked years older. But when Ayane asked if she was feeling okay, her friend insisted she was fine, and that was the end of it.
As they talked about recent events, Junko seemed to perk back up. Then, just when Ayane was contemplating telling her about Yoshitaka, Junko’s face went pale.
Ayane asked what was wrong, but Junko didn’t answer. She stood abruptly, saying that she had just remembered something she had to do, that she had to go home. Bewildered, Ayane walked outside with her and watched her get into a taxi.
It was the last time she saw her friend.
Five days later, a package arrived at Ayane’s apartment. She opened the box to find white powder in a plastic bag. On the bag was written, in permanent marker, ‘arsenic (poison)’. The package had come from Junko.
Immediately suspicious, she tried calling her friend, but Junko didn’t answer. Almost in a panic, she went to Junko’s apartment. She arrived to see her friend’s place cordoned off by the police. The officers were still there. One of the onlookers told her that the woman who lived in the apartment had poisoned herself.
In shock, Ayane wandered the neighbourhood, not even sure where she was going. By the time she realized it, she was back at home, staring at the package from Junko.
As she was wondering what the package meant, and why Junko had sent it to her, something tickled her memory. She recalled the moment Junko got up from the table the last time they met. Her friend
’s eyes had fallen on Ayane’s mobile phone where she had set it beside her plate. Ayane pulled out her mobile and looked at it. It had a little decorative souvenir strap attached to it that she had bought with Yoshitaka on one of their dates – the same as the strap on his phone.
Ayane immediately imagined the worst: that Junko had realized she was seeing Yoshitaka and, in a fit of jealousy, had committed suicide. But she couldn’t imagine her friend taking her own life over an unrequited crush. Which meant that there had been something more between her and Yoshitaka.
Ayane didn’t go to the police. She didn’t even go to Junko’s funeral. The more she suspected she was responsible for her friend’s death, the less she wanted to know the truth.
For the same reason, she lacked the courage to ask Yoshitaka about it, knowing that it could mean the end of her own relationship with him.
Some time later, Yoshitaka made a curious proposal. He wanted them both to go to the same party, but separately, and pretend it was their first time meeting. He didn’t want people to think he was seeing someone through work, he explained.
‘Idle people with time on their hands are always asking couples how they met, right? Well, I think we should give them a story. And what’s simpler than a social mixer?’
Why not just tell people whatever story they wanted? Ayane thought. But Yoshitaka had already prepared his friend, Ikai, to serve as a witness. Knowing him, the thoroughness of the whole charade was unsurprising, but Ayane began to suspect that his real intent was to wipe the shadow of Junko from his own past. Yet she never mentioned her suspicions, instead going to the party as requested and playing her part in their theatrical ‘first’ encounter.
After that, their relationship proceeded smoothly. Half a year later, Yoshitaka proposed.
While her happiness was genuine, the doubts in Ayane’s heart grew by the day. Why did Junko commit suicide? What kind of relationship had her friend had with Yoshitaka?
She was torn between a desire to know and the hope that she never found out. Meanwhile, her wedding day drew steadily closer.
And then the day came when Yoshitaka made a startling announcement. Although, she thought to herself later, maybe for him it hadn’t been so startling. He didn’t made a big deal of it at all. He simply said, ‘If we don’t have a child after one year, let’s split up.’
Ayane thought she misheard him. Who would talk about divorce before they even got married?
But when she asked him if he was kidding, he said, ‘It’s just a policy of mine. A one-year limit. If no contraception is used, most couples can have a kid in that time. If we can’t, it’s likely one of us has a problem. And … I had a checkup, and I’m fine.’
Ayane’s skin prickled; she felt her hair standing on end. Staring at him, she asked, ‘Is that what you told Junko?’
‘Huh?’ Yoshitaka’s eyes were swimming. She had never seen him look so taken aback.
‘Please, be honest with me. You were seeing Junko, weren’t you?’
Yoshitaka frowned. But he didn’t try to hide the truth, even though he clearly wasn’t happy about it. ‘I always thought you’d find out sooner than this. I figured either you or Junko would say something about me.’
‘You were seeing us at the same time?’
‘No. It wasn’t like that. By the time I started dating you, I had already broken up with Junko. That’s the truth.’
‘How did you break up with her, exactly?’ Ayane asked her future husband. ‘Did you tell her you could only marry a woman who could bear children? Is that what you said?’
Yoshitaka shrugged. ‘I didn’t use those words, but I guess that’s what it meant. I just told her our time was up.’
‘Excuse me? Your time was “up”?’
‘She was already thirty-four. We weren’t using contraception, but she hadn’t got pregnant. It was time to make a decision.’
‘So you chose me?’
‘Is that so wrong? What’s the point in a relationship with no future potential? I made up my mind a long time ago not to waste my life like that.’
‘Why did you hide this from me until now?’
‘Because I didn’t think you needed to know. I was prepared if you did find out, though. I figured I would just explain it to you then. Ayane, I haven’t betrayed you, and I haven’t lied.’
Ayane turned away from him, looking down at the flowers on the balcony. The pansies caught her eye; Junko’s favourite pansies. She thought about her friend, tears stinging her eyes.
Yoshitaka had cut Junko off, but Junko hadn’t been able to let go. Then, when she met with Ayane, she’d seen the strap on her friend’s mobile phone and realized what was going on. And so she had killed herself – but not before sending a message to Ayane. The arsenic.
Finally Ayane understood. The poison wasn’t Junko’s way of saying she hated her for stealing Yoshitaka. It was a warning:
Someday you’ll be the one who needs this.
Junko had been the only person to whom Ayane could open up, the only one Ayane could tell her worries and dreams. Junko was the only person she had ever told about the birth defect that had rendered her infertile.
She knew he would throw me away someday, just like he threw her away.
‘Have you heard a single word I’ve said?’
She turned back to face him. ‘Yes, everything. How could I not?’
‘You might try answering more quickly, then.’
‘I suppose my mind must’ve wandered.’
‘Oh? That’s not like you.’
‘What you said was surprising, you know.’
‘I find that hard to believe. You should be familiar with my life plan by now.’
Yoshitaka told her his thoughts on marriage. How a marriage without children was meaningless.
‘What are you so upset about, Ayane? You have everything you ever wanted. If there’s something I’ve forgotten, just ask. I intend to do everything I can for you. So let’s just stop all this fussing, and start thinking about the future. Unless you see some other way forward?’
He had absolutely no idea how much damage his words were doing. In retrospect, of course, he was right – in a way. His support had enabled many of her dreams to come to fruition over the year they were together. But how could she look forward to their married life back then, when she knew it would all be over a year after it started?
‘I know it might seem silly to you, but can I ask one question? What about your love for me?’ she asked him. ‘Whatever happened to that?’
Did you dump Junko just because you thought I looked fertile? Do you love me at all? ‘My love for you hasn’t changed a bit,’ he told her then. ‘I can assure you of that. I do still love you.’
Was it true? She had to know. She felt the love and the hatred in her heart tearing her in two, and realized that she would kill for the truth. And so she decided – she would go through with it. She would become this man’s wife, always by his side, holding his fate in her hands, delaying the time of his punishment. She would give him a chance to earn her forgiveness.
She was nervous when she put the arsenous acid into the filtration system, knowing that it meant she could never allow anyone else to be alone in the kitchen. Yet, at the same time, she felt the unmistakable elation of being entirely in control of another’s life.
Whenever Yoshitaka was home, she stayed on the sofa. She even carefully timed her trips to the toilet and bath to times when he was least likely to need anything in the kitchen.
He was kind to her after their wedding, and she had no complaints. As long as his affections for her remained the same, Ayane was determined to not let him near the water filter. Though she hadn’t forgotten what he did to Junko, as long as he never did the same to her, she intended to let him live. For Ayane, marriage meant offering daily salvation to a man standing on the gallows.
Yet a part of her knew that Yoshitaka wouldn’t abandon his desire for children. When she noticed the way he looked at Hiromi, she knew the
time had come.
On the night they invited the Ikais over to their house, Yoshitaka had declared his intention to divorce her, his tone businesslike throughout.
‘As I’m sure you realize, we’re almost out of time. I’d like you to get ready to leave.’
Ayane smiled. ‘Then, I have a request first.’
He asked her what it was, and she looked him in the eye and said, ‘I’d like to leave the house for two or three days. I hope you’ll be all right by yourself.’
He shrugged with a smile. ‘That’s not much of a request. Of course I’ll be all right.’
‘Of course,’ Ayane echoed, nodding. Her days of salvation were over.
THIRTY-THREE
The wine bar was in a basement, at the bottom of a long flight of stairs. Utsumi opened the door to see a bar counter and three tables at the back. Kusanagi and Yukawa were sitting at the table on the left.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ the junior detective said, taking a seat next to Kusanagi.
‘What’s the word?’ Kusanagi asked her.
She nodded. ‘Good news. They found traces with the exact same composition.’
‘No kidding,’ Kusanagi breathed.
They had sent the empty can from Junko Tsukui’s mother’s house to Spring-8 for testing, and the lab had detected trace amounts of the exact arsenous acid that was used to kill Yoshitaka Mashiba. This backed up Ayane Mashiba’s confession that she had put the poison Junko sent her through the mail into the water-filtration system.
‘Sounds like the case is closed,’ Yukawa said.
‘That it is,’ Kusanagi agreed. ‘Well, since we’re all here now, how about a toast?’ He called over the waiter and ordered champagne. ‘I have to admit, you really saved my ass this time, Yukawa. Tonight’s on me. Drink all you like.’
Yukawa raised an eyebrow. ‘“This time”? Don’t you mean “again”? And I was under the impression that it was Ms Utsumi I was helping, not you.’