Puppet Master vol.1

  　Shigeko finally got hold of Detective Sakaki at Higashi-Nakano Police Station five days later, in the afternoon of September seventeenth. When she called the Community Safety Division, Sakaki had picked up the phone. He said he could meet her immediately, and they agreed on the same coffee shop in Shinjuku they'd often used for meetings before. Shigeko had set out in high spirits and arrived twenty minutes early, and was reading over her list and notes when Sakaki turned up.

  　“I've been trying to get hold of you for ages.” She hadn't meant to complain, but it just came out in spite of herself as Sakaki lowered himself into the seat facing her. It was only then that she noticed how worn-out he looked, his face haggard. “I'm sorry, you must have been terribly busy with the Mariko Furukawa case.”

  　Sakaki said nothing as he took his cigarettes out of his suit pocket. The waitress came over to take his order, and he mechanically told her, “Coffee.” As she turned to go back to the bar, however, he hastily called after her, “No, make that a hot milk, please.”

  　He must have an upset stomach, thought Shigeko.

  　“I'm sorry,” he started. “I knew you'd called. And you even dropped by a few times, didn't you? I wanted to meet you to check on a few things too, but I was completely up to my ears.”

  　“I don't mind at all,” Shigeko told him. “It's just that I was so worked up. You remember that article I was writing, don't you?”

  　Sakaki nodded heavily. “Of course.”

  　“You were the one who gave me the information about Mariko Furukawa.”

  　“Yes, I was …”

  　“Actually, after that I got sick, and then things got really busy, so I had to put it to one side for a while.”

  　“Oh.” Sakaki looked up and blinked a few times. “Is that what happened? I heard you'd gotten married. Actually, I wanted to ask you whether you were still working on it.”

  　“But with everything that's going on now, I intend to get back on with it right away. This development means the article will take on a different direction than what I had in mind originally.” The waitress brought the hot milk, and Shigeko waited until she had gone again before resolutely continuing, “I want to make Mariko's case the core of the story. I'm sure you realize, Detective Sakaki, that in writing this piece,” Shigeko put her hand on the manuscript lying on the table, “my main concern has always been what these women were thinking and feeling when they went missing, and what could have happened to them. Even without any answers, just writing about the circumstances behind their disappearance is meaningful work, but this changes everything. Mariko isn't a stranger to me─I'm personally involved.”

  　Sakaki smoked his cigarette without saying anything.

  　“I'm not just curious, you know,” Shigeko continued passionately. “I'm really worried about what happened to her. I want to know.” As she talked, in a small corner of her mind she could hear Itagaki telling her, Being missing in itself doesn't make a great story, but if there was a serial killer involved … And she also heard her own feelings, Now the job is more meaningful─looks as though it could be more meaningful … But she ignored them and kept looking directly at Sakaki's face.

  　Sakaki picked up the cup of hot milk and took a sip. It didn't look very appetizing. “I'm not on the investigation team for this case, you know,” he said.

  　“You're not?”

  　“No. You know that they found items belonging to Mariko in Okawa Park, I suppose? Because of that, to some extent I've been collaborating with them as the person who was dealing with her disappearance and familiar with the aspects of her case until then. It's not that I'm involved in the team's work. The investigation into the arm that was found has nothing to do with me at all.”

  　“But it's Mariko's case that concerns me,” Shigeko said, although to tell the truth, she was disappointed. Sakaki was her only hope for getting information related to the case.

  　Sakaki lit another cigarette. When Shigeko had met up with him before, he hadn't been such a chain-smoker. “If you're really determined to pursue this case,” he said, looking up, “then I can't stop you. However, I have to tell you that I want you to stop.”

  　Shigeko opened her eyes wide. “But why?”

  　“Because Mariko's family is in no state to respond to your questions right now.”

  　That wasn't unimaginable. In fact, it was all too understandable.

  　“And even if I wanted to cooperate with you now, I can't,” he continued. “When you were just beginning to write your article, it wasn't a problem. Her case wasn't the subject of a full investigation at that stage, and I thought that it if you published the story it might help to draw some attention to it. In fact, before talking to you about the case, I got her family's permission first. Naturally.”

  　Shigeko nodded. Sakiko Himuro of the Shimoda police had told her the same. And she hadn't just talked to the family of the missing people, but had introduced Shigeko to them as well.

  　“But the circumstances have changed,” Sakaki said. “Dramatically. The investigation team is onto it, and so is the media, for what it's worth.”

  　Shigeko didn't say anything. It sounded like there was more to come.

  　“What I'm saying might sound selfish,” Sakaki said, “and I suppose it is. After all, the moment the case I told you about becomes a big story, I drop you and start insisting on secrecy. Therefore, as I said before, if you really insist on pursuing Mariko's story, I can't stop you. You're a journalist. But I just want to make one thing clear. You yourself said that you weren't doing this just to satisfy your curiosity─your intention wasn't to pursue a sensational story.” He glanced at the manuscript on the table. “You also said that you felt personally involved with Mariko. If that's true, then I want to ask you to refrain from contacting her family for information. Really, they're in a terrible state and it would just make things worse for them.”

  　Shigeko looked down and stared at her empty coffee cup. She understood what Sakaki was saying. The old Shigeko, the Shigeko who had started writing this story, would have immediately complied. She hadn't been after a sensational story, and wouldn't have had any problem with focusing on the other missing women and writing up Mariko's case later, after everything had died down. But she had changed. Her objective in writing the article had changed. In her head she could hear her editor's voice: the voice had told her that as it stood, her story wouldn't sell. But if there was a serial killer involved …

  　More than anything else, Shigeko's own feelings had changed. Or rather her true feelings had finally come to the fore. She didn't want to let such a big opportunity slip. And even if she didn't say so out loud, Sakaki had probably already seen right through her, which was why he was throwing back her own words at her. In any case, there was only one conclusion: he would no longer help her.

  　“I think Himuro in Shimoda would say the same,” Sakaki went on. “Because we both know what you had initially had in mind for your article.” Don't go chasing after Mariko Furukawa's family now.

  　Shigeko had seen for herself on TV last week how Mariko's mother had run in front of a truck and was now in the hospital, her father was living elsewhere and trying to dodge the media scrum, and her grandfather had been forced to temporarily close his tofu shop due to the constant harassment from reporters. If she continued with the story, she would be just as much of a nuisance to the family, and that's why Sakaki was asking her to stop. And unless she owned up to her true feelings, she didn't have a leg to stand on. But whatever she did, Sakaki's position wouldn't change, so maybe she should just tell him: Look Detective Sakaki, I'm not such a generous person.

  　Shigeko looked up and said, “I fully understand.”

  　The tension drained from Sakaki's face. “Really? Thank you.”

  　Shigeko was thinking that another approach would be to wait. That way, when things had calmed down again, Sakaki would probably become a good source of information again. He might even liaise
with the family on her behalf. It would be fine to write the article at that time. It might be later than other journalists, but she could still do a good job of it.

  　However, there was something crucial lacking in that: real-time impact. The impact that Shigeko herself had felt when she realized that an unexpected crime had been lurking in the article she'd been working on. This was something that none of the other reporters had experienced. And if she wanted to make the most of it, waiting wasn't an option. In this respect, this case already belonged to her─that's why it was such a big opportunity.

  　Sakaki was watching her. Their eyes met. He looked as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  　There was nothing more to be said.

  After leaving Sakaki, Shigeko was on her way home when she changed her mind and headed for Shoji's factory instead, arriving just in time for the three-o'clock tea break. She was dying to talk to him.

  　Ever since the Okawa Park incident, until she met Sakaki today the only other person who'd been able to understand her excitement had been Shoji. That first day he had watched the news with her and, despite the fact she'd ended up burning the dinner, wholeheartedly encouraged her.

  　“Shige-chan, I never thought that article of yours would end up being such a big story,” he'd said excitedly. “But isn't this kind of investigating hard work? Don't go overdoing things, all right?”

  　“Don't worry, I won't.”

  　“And for all we know, it could get dangerous.”

  　“What do you mean, dangerous?”

  　Shoji's face clouded. “Well, two women have been murdered.”

  　Shigeko burst out laughing. “Don't be silly! That's the least of my worries.”

  　“Oh really?” Shoji laughed too.

  　The large sign for Maehata Metal Works was immediately visible as she got off the bus at the nearest stop. Though it was just a small-scale local operation, the factory occupied a large plot of land and was doing well with steady sales, as far as Shigeko knew, subcontracting for a major automobile manufacturer by supplying micro parts for vehicles.

  　Shoji was sitting outside the factory drinking a can of coffee and chatting with one of the young workers. The worker noticed Shigeko first.

  　“Good morning Mrs. Maehata.”

  　Shigeko waved and Shoji stood up smiling. “Hey, what brings you here? This is a surprise.”

  　“I was just on my way home. What do you want for dinner tonight?”

  　The worker disappeared tactfully back into the factory. Several of the other workers also noticed Shigeko and bowed to her. Shoji came out onto the road, out of sight of his mother's smoky office.

  　“Hmm, what would be nice? What about sweet-and-sour pork?”

  　“Sure. You really like Chinese food, don't you.”

  　“And some salad.”

  　“Are you busy?”

  　“Yeah, we are this week. Have you been anywhere interesting?”

  　“I went to meet a detective.”

  　“That big case?”

  　“Yep.” The smell of steel and machine oil hung in the air. From the dim interior of the factory, she could hear the tinny sound of a radio. “Sho-chan, I'm going to do this one,” Shigeko told him. “I'm going to write something really good.”

  　“Go for it! I can't wait to read it,” Shoji laughed. “But don't make yourself sick this time!”

  　“Don't worry, I won't. But what do you think? Is it okay if I turn down other work to get on with this one?”

  　Shoji opened his eyes wide in surprise. “You mean your food series, and the column in that travel magazine?”

  　“Yes. I want to concentrate on this story. But I don't even know whether it'll sell. What I mean is that I'll be unemployed. Are you okay with that?”

  　She had been thinking about this for some time. She hadn't been able to make up her mind but, having talked with Sakaki, the moment she laid eyes on Shoji a fire had lit within her. She'd made her decision.

  　“Sure. I don't mind at all,” Shoji said, nodding emphatically. “Shigeko, give it all you've got!”

  Chapter 6

  Shinichi was undecided.

  　He'd taken Rocky to the vet, and was wondering whether or not to drop by Okawa Park on their way home to the Ishii's. He hadn't been back since that day. He'd been taking Rocky on different routes for their daily walks.

  　The news that he'd been the one to find the arm had gradually spread among his classmates. Of course the media hadn't identified him and he himself hadn't told anyone, but it had been reported in the weekly magazines and on the TV gossip shows that the discovery had been made by a high-school student who lived near the park and was walking his dog at the time. When asked directly, “Hey, that wasn't you by any chance, was it Tsukada?” he hadn't been able to lie. He wouldn't have minded, but if anything it was too much bother. And so he'd simply answered yes, and had then been bombarded with questions: What did it feel like? Were you shocked? Did the police question you? Did you have to go into the interrogation room? He answered them all with the minimum words possible, hoping that everyone's interest would cool off after a while, and so it did. By the following week, nobody was talking about it anymore.

  　Shinichi had been able to regain his composure because no one at his current school was able to link this incident to the one last year. Of course there were the Ishiis, and his homeroom teacher must have known about his circumstances─it wasn't as if they couldn't have informed the school about it. But the Ishiis didn't bring the subject up, and the homeroom teacher, possibly relieved that Shinichi seemed to be doing okay, hadn't said anything about it to him either. He was grateful for that.

  　Deep down, though, he was far from over it. The whole experience had unlocked a Pandora's box of suppressed memories. Ever since that day he'd been having dreams─all kinds of dreams, long, short, some fragmentary, some coherent, and all of them about his family being murdered. In the dreams, Shinichi knew in detail everything that had happened, and that's why he went to the scene, opened the door, and wandered around the house searching for the mother he couldn't see. At the same time he was in the dream, he was also outside the dream desperately trying to warn his dream self. Don't open that door! Don't pick up that slipper lying there! Don't turn that slipper over or touch that sticky red stuff on it. You already know what that is, don't you?

  　Other times he dreamed of himself knowing what was happening at home and running as fast as he could to get back there. But however fast he ran, he wasn't moving. A bus went by without stopping, not a single taxi came along, there was no sign of anyone in the neighborhood, the public phone didn't work. He wanted to tell them, shout at them, at his Dad, Mom, his little sister, Run! Get out of there! You mustn't stay there! And he would wake up drenched in sweat.

  　Late Sunday night, his dream had been extraordinarily clear and explicit. Unable to stand it any more, he went downstairs. He wanted to feel the breeze, and so he went out onto the veranda and sat down. Rocky was chained in the garden as usual, and came over and nuzzled him. Hugging the dog's warm neck, he realized that he was trembling all over. Hearing someone speak behind him, he looked around to see Uncle Yoshiyuki in his pajamas, barefoot, making his way carefully over the floor. “Aren't you cold?” Yoshiyuki asked, sitting down next to Shinichi. Rattling his chain, Rocky greeted Yoshiyuki affectionately too, resting his chin on his knee. “He really likes you Shinichi, doesn't he?” Yoshiyuki said. “What's up? Can't you sleep?”

  　“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.”

  　“That's not what I meant. I came downstairs to go to the toilet anyway,” Yoshiyuki said, his voice low. “It's just that Yoshie has been worried for some time that you don't seem to be sleeping well.”

  　“She noticed?”

  　“Yep.”

  　“I'm sorry,” Shinichi said. Those were the only words he could find.

  　Whenever the matter of the Tsukada murders a
nd Shinichi's psychological state came up, the conversation pretty much always went the same way. Shinichi would apologize, and Aunt Yoshie would tell him there was nothing to apologize for. And they would all feel contrite and guilty. But this time was different. Instead of telling him not to apologize, Yoshiyuki said, “I suppose what happened at Okawa Park brought back a lot of memories, didn't it? Just when you were beginning to feel a bit calmer.”

  　“Mm.”

  　“I've been thinking of asking you about this for some time now, but would you like to give counseling a try?”

  　“Counseling?”

  　“Yes. Meeting with a psychotherapist or psychiatrist and, well, calling it treatment might be putting it a bit strongly, but in short it means having someone to talk to. It's not that I'm saying you're ill,” Yoshiyuki spoke faster, “but you have been badly hurt. Have you heard of something called PTSD?”

  　Shinichi stroked Rocky's neck. “Yes, I've heard about it.”

  　“It stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Yoshiyuki said slowly, as if reading off the words. “People who have a terrible experience, like a major crime or natural disaster, suffer from bad memories afterwards.”

  　“I saw something about it on TV, after the Kobe earthquake.”

  　“How about it? I'm not trying to force you into anything, but maybe you should think about it. I know someone who can see you─you wouldn't have to go to some unfamiliar hospital.”

  　Knowing Uncle Yoshiyuki, he'd probably gone out of his way to find out about this for him. But Shinichi couldn't make his mind up right away. Would it do any good to see a doctor? Would it help him to forgive himself?