‘The champagne glasses were usually kept in a cupboard in the living room. That’s why when we got to the house there was an empty space on the shelf.’
‘And?’ Mamiya asked. ‘Maybe I’m just slow, but I don’t see what the problem is with the glasses.’
Neither could Kusanagi. He studied her profile, seeing a steady determination.
‘Why didn’t the wife put them away before she left?’
‘Huh?’ Kusanagi grunted. A moment later, Mamiya echoed him.
‘So what if she didn’t put them away?’ Kusanagi demanded.
‘I just think that normally she would have. You saw the cupboard, right? It was perfectly organized – so well that the space for the missing champagne glasses was obvious. I’m guessing she’s the kind of person that can’t relax if her important glassware isn’t exactly where it should be. Which makes the fact that she didn’t return the champagne glasses to their proper place rather curious.’
‘Maybe she just forgot?’ Kusanagi suggested.
Utsumi firmly shook her head. ‘Impossible.’
‘How so?’
‘Maybe on any old day she might forget for a little while, but she was heading away on a trip that weekend. It is very hard to imagine that she would have left those champagne glasses out.’
Kusanagi glanced over at Mamiya, wondering if his own face looked as astonished as the chief’s. Utsumi had raised a question that hadn’t even occurred to him.
‘I can only think of one reason why the wife wouldn’t have put away the champagne glasses,’ the young detective continued. ‘If she knew she wouldn’t be away for very long, she wouldn’t have felt the need to rush and clean them up.’
Mamiya sat down in his seat, crossing his arms. He looked up at Kusanagi. ‘Your rebuttal?’
Kusanagi scratched his head. He didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, he turned to Utsumi and asked: ‘Why didn’t you bring this up sooner? Didn’t it occur to you as soon as we got to the house?’
She shrugged, an unusually demure smile rising to her lips. ‘I didn’t want to get scolded for obsessing over details. And I figured that, if the wife really was guilty, we’d probably find out some other way eventually … Sorry.’
Mamiya breathed out a deep sigh. ‘We’ve got some work to do, Kusanagi,’ he said. ‘What’s the point of having our new detective on the team if she doesn’t feel at ease sharing her observations with us, hmm?’
‘Oh, it’s not like that—’ Utsumi began, but Mamiya lifted his hand.
‘Don’t be afraid to speak what’s on your mind any time you like. There’s no rank and no gender when we’re on the case. I’ll pass what you just told us on to Division, but don’t get too comfortable, no matter how keen your observation may be. It is a little odd that she didn’t put those glasses back, but it’s not exactly incriminating evidence. What we need is something we can prove. So right now, what I want both of you to do is find proof that Mrs Mashiba’s alibi holds, if it does. It’s not your job to worry about how we’re going to use that information. Understood?’
Utsumi lowered her eyes for a moment and blinked several times before she looked back up. ‘Understood,’ she said, staring the chief straight in the eye.
SEVEN
Hiromi opened her eyes to the sound of her ringing mobile phone.
She hadn’t been asleep – just lying on her bed with her eyes closed, ready for yet another sleepless night. She still had some sleeping pills that Yoshitaka had given her, but she was scared to take them.
She sat up, her body leaden, a vague ache in her temples. She was scared even to pick up the phone. Who could be calling me at this hour? She glanced at the clock. It was almost ten.
When she saw the name on the digital display, it woke her like a splash of frigid water. It was Ayane. She quickly pressed the talk button.
‘Yes? Hiromi speaking.’ Her voice was hoarse.
‘Hi, it’s Ayane. I’m sorry, were you asleep?’
‘No, just lying down. I’m sorry about not coming back over this morning.’
‘It’s okay. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. How about you? You must be exhausted,’ Hiromi asked, wondering if the detectives had told Ayane about her affair with Yoshitaka.
‘A little, yes. It’s all so confusing … I still can’t really believe it happened.’
The same was true for Hiromi. It was like an interminable nightmare. ‘I know,’ she said to her phone.
‘Are you sure you’re okay, Hiromi? You’re not sick?’
‘No, I’m fine. I should be able to go to work tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Actually, I was wondering if we could get together?’
‘Now?’ Hiromi asked, a sudden unease rising in her chest. ‘What is it?’
‘This is something I want to talk to you about in person. I don’t think it will take very long. If you’re tired, I can come over there.’
Phone pressed to her ear, Hiromi shook her head. ‘No, I’ll come over. Give me about an hour, I have to get dressed.’
‘Actually, I’m at a hotel now.’
‘Oh?’
‘The police wanted to check some more stuff in the house, so they have me staying here. I just swapped some of the things in the suitcase I took to Sapporo and brought it along.’
Hiromi’s boss explained that she was staying in a hotel close to Shinagawa station on the southern side of Tokyo.
‘I’ll be right there,’ Hiromi said, ending the call.
While she was getting ready to go, her mind spun, trying to imagine what Ayane wanted to talk about. If she was so worried about how I’m feeling, why did she want me to come over right away? Maybe she was feeling that time was tight – or that what she had to say was so important it couldn’t be put off.
On the train to Shinagawa, Hiromi sat nervously, unable to refrain from imagining what Ayane was going to tell her. Maybe she’d heard about the affair. Her voice hadn’t sounded harsh over the phone, but what if she’d been hiding her feelings?
Hiromi tried to imagine how Ayane would react if she heard that her husband was having an affair with her apprentice. She had no idea. She had never seen her teacher angry before, not for any reason. She was always so quiet – so unemotional. But she has to have the capacity for anger in her somewhere. Everyone does.
Hiromi’s own inability to predict how Ayane would act towards the woman who’d stolen her husband terrified the apprentice. She had decided that if Ayane asked about it, she wouldn’t make some lame attempt to hide the truth; she would just apologize, though she had little hope of being forgiven. Or, for that matter, of holding on to her job. If it came to that, making a clean break was the most important thing she could do.
Hiromi called Ayane when she arrived at the hotel, and was invited up to her room. The older woman met her wearing a beige hotel bathrobe.
‘Sorry to drag you over here when you’re so tired.’
‘That’s all right. What did you want to talk about?’
‘Have a seat,’ Ayane said, waving towards one of the two overstuffed sofa chairs in the room.
Hiromi sat down and looked around the room. It was a twin. Ayane’s suitcase was lying open next to one of the beds. From the looks of it, she had brought half her wardrobe. She was ready for an extended stay.
‘You want something to drink?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Well, there’s some if you want any,’ Ayane said, pulling a bottle of oolong tea from the hotel refrigerator and filling two glasses.
‘Thank you.’ Hiromi reached out for her glass, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was.
‘What did the detectives ask you?’ Ayane began, her tone as soft as always.
Hiromi set down her glass and licked her lips. ‘They asked me how he was when I discovered him. They asked me if I had any idea who did it.’
‘What did you say?’
Hiromi waved a hand in front of her. ‘Of course I don’t have any idea.
’
‘Of course. Did they ask you anything else?’
‘Nothing, really. Not that I remember.’ Hiromi looked down at the floor. They asked about me drinking coffee with your husband on Sunday morning.
Ayane nodded and reached for her own glass. She took a sip and pressed the glass to her forehead, as though trying to cool a fever.
‘Hiromi, there’s something I have to tell you.’
Hiromi’s eyes darted upward. They met Ayane’s. For a second, she thought her teacher was glaring, then, a moment later, her expression changed. There was no hatred or anger at all in those eyes. Just sadness and loss, made more poignant by the thin smile floating on her lips.
‘He asked me to leave him,’ Ayane said, her voice flat.
Hiromi looked back down at the floor. She knew she might be expected to feign surprise, but she didn’t have it in her. She couldn’t even look Ayane in the face.
‘It was on Friday. He told me just before the Ikais arrived.
‘He said there was no point being married to a woman who couldn’t have children.’
Hiromi hung her head. Yoshitaka had told her he’d asked Ayane for a divorce, but she’d had no idea he had said it like that.
Ayane continued. ‘He also said something else … something along the lines of having already found the next woman. He wouldn’t tell me her name, but he said she was someone I didn’t know.’
Hiromi tensed. She knows. She’s trying to trap me by appearing not to care.
‘I think he was lying,’ Ayane said. ‘I think I know who it is. I think I know her very well. That’s why he wouldn’t tell me the name.’
Hiromi was starting to feel physical pain just listening to her speak. She looked up, tears welling in her eyes.
Ayane showed no surprise at all. She was still wearing the same vacant smile on her face when she said, as if she were scolding a little child: ‘It was you, wasn’t it, Hiromi?’
Hiromi closed her mouth to hold back a sob. A tear ran down her cheek.
‘It was you … wasn’t it?’
There was no point denying it now. Hiromi gave a little nod.
Ayane breathed out a slow sigh. ‘I thought so.’
‘Ayane, I …’
‘No, don’t say anything. I knew it the moment he told me we were over. Or maybe from a little while before, though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. How could I not notice, being so near you all the time? That, and he’s not as good a liar or an actor as he thinks he is.’
‘You must be furious.’
Ayane tilted her head. ‘Maybe. Maybe I am upset. I’m sure he was the one who made the advances, but I could be angry with you for not refusing him. Yet I don’t feel like you stole him away from me. Really. It wasn’t a fling, you see. He stopped loving me first, and then went to you. I feel a little responsible for not being able to hold onto him.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Hiromi blurted. ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it, but he kept asking and asking—’
‘Say no more.’ Ayane’s voice cut the air with a sudden cold sharpness. ‘Or I might even start hating you a little, Hiromi. Do you really think I want to hear how you fell for his charms?’
She’s right. Hiromi shook her head, still looking down at the floor.
‘We made a promise to each other when we got married,’ Ayane said, the softness returning to her voice. ‘We said if we went a year without having children, we’d reconsider. The truth is, neither of us is that young, and neither of us wanted to go through lengthy infertility treatments if it came to that. To be honest, learning you were the other woman came as a shock – but for him, I think he was just acting on that promise.’
‘He may have mentioned it,’ Hiromi said without looking up.
He had spoken of it again when she’d seen him on Saturday. He’d used the word ‘rules’ – those were the rules – that was why Ayane had accepted the situation. Hiromi hadn’t been able to understand, but listening to Ayane now, the younger woman thought it might actually have been true.
‘I went back to Sapporo to think things over. I couldn’t bear staying in the house after he told me we were finished. That’s why I gave you my key – so I wouldn’t have to interact with him again. I knew you two would meet while I was away; why not give you the key and make it official?’
Hiromi remembered that morning when Ayane had appeared at her apartment. She’d had no idea what had been going on in her teacher’s head. I thought she was showing her trust in me. How stupid could I be? When she thought about how Ayane must have felt seeing her clutching that key, it made her shrivel inside.
‘Did you tell the detectives about you and Yoshitaka?’
Hiromi gave a little nod. ‘I think they already knew somehow. I didn’t really have a choice.’
‘I see. That makes sense, I guess. It would be strange for you to let yourself into the house just because you were worried about him. That’s how they must’ve figured it out. They didn’t say a word about it to me, you know.’
‘Really?’
‘I think they were pretending not to know so they could observe how I acted. They must suspect me, after all.’
‘What?’ Hiromi looked up at her teacher. ‘You mean, you’re a suspect?’
‘Well, sure. If you think about it, I have a motive. My husband betrayed me.’
Right again. But Hiromi hadn’t suspected Ayane at all. For one, she had been in Sapporo when Yoshitaka was murdered. That, and she had believed it when Yoshitaka told her that everything was going smoothly. Maybe I was being stupid again.
‘Not that I mind. They can suspect me all they want.’ Ayane pulled her bag closer to her and fished out a handkerchief, daubing with it beneath her eyes. ‘All I want to know is what happened. Why that had to happen to him … Hiromi, are you sure you have no idea who could’ve done it? When was the last time you saw him?’
She didn’t want to answer the question, but lying didn’t seem like an option. ‘Yesterday morning. We had coffee together. The detectives asked me all about it, but all I could tell them was that I didn’t notice anything unusual at the time. Not about the house, or … Mr Mashiba.’
‘Right,’ Ayane said, tilting her head in thought for a moment before looking at Hiromi. ‘You haven’t kept anything a secret from the detectives, have you? You told them everything, right?’
‘I think so.’
‘Well, okay then. But if you remember anything that you might’ve forgotten, you should tell them as soon as you can. They might suspect you, too, you know.’
‘I think they already do suspect me. I’m the only one who saw him over the weekend.’
‘That’s true. I suppose that is where they would start looking.’
‘Should I tell them about this, too? That we met here tonight?’
Ayane nodded, putting a hand to her forehead. ‘I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. I certainly don’t care. And if you tried to hide it, they might take it the wrong way.’
‘Okay.’
Ayane’s lips softened into a smile. ‘It’s funny, don’t you think? Here we are, the woman abandoned and her husband’s lover, in the same room, talking. And instead of being at each other’s throats, we’re at our wits’ end. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t matter anymore, now that he’s dead.’
Hiromi didn’t have an answer for that, though she realized that she felt the same. She only knew that if Yoshitaka were to spring back to life, she wouldn’t care about her teacher’s anger. She understood instinctively that her own loss right then was even greater than Ayane’s, just as she knew that this was the last thing she could tell anyone.
EIGHT
Ayane Mashiba’s parents lived in a tidy, organized residential quarter of Sapporo, and their house was a squat, square three-storey structure. The ground floor was a garage, but was treated as a basement for zoning purposes, with two regular storeys above it. A stairway led up to the front entrance on the second storey.
‘There are
lots of houses like this around here,’ Ayane’s father, Kazuhiro Mita, explained, putting out some rice crackers for his guests. ‘We get a lot of snow in the winter, so the front door has to be a way off the ground.’
Kusanagi nodded. It’s a different world up here. He reached for the steaming cup of tea that Ayane’s mother, Tokiko, had just brought. She sat down next to her husband, the empty tea tray resting on her lap.
‘We were very surprised to hear the news about Mr Mashiba. We didn’t know what to make of it when they said it wasn’t an accident or an illness, but a police investigation was the last thing we expected.’ Kazuhiro’s speckled white eyebrows formed little inverted Vs above his eyes.
‘It’s not been officially ruled a homicide yet,’ Kusanagi said.
Kazuhiro frowned, the wrinkles running deep on his thin face. ‘That man had his share of enemies. Most capable businessmen do. Still, you’d like to think that people were a little more decent than that …’
Kazuhiro had been employed at a local credit union until his retirement five years earlier. He’d seen his share of businessmen in his day, and no doubt he knew the type.
‘I was wondering,’ Tokiko said, looking up. ‘How is Ayane doing? On the phone she says she’s fine, but then again, I’m sure she doesn’t want to worry us.’
‘Surprisingly well, actually. Of course, it was all a great shock,’ Kusanagi explained, ‘but throughout it all she’s been very helpful with our investigation.’
‘Well, then, that’s a relief.’ The woman’s worry that lingered in her face belied her words.
‘Ayane says she came home on Saturday? She told us that she had concerns about your health.’ Kusanagi fixed his gaze on Kazuhiro. The older man was thin, and a bit pale, but he didn’t seem to be suffering.
‘Yeah, my pancreas,’ the older man explained. ‘Got an inflammation about three years ago, and haven’t really felt right since. I get a fever sometimes, and some days my stomach and back hurt so much I can’t move. But I’ve been carrying on. That’s what you do, you know. Carry on.’
‘Did you need Ayane’s help for any specific reason this time?’