“Maybe. What do you think?”
“I think it does.”
Kusanagi glanced over at his passenger. “That was quick.”
“Well, you have to wonder why Tsukahara would have that phone book after retirement. If it was to look up cheap motels, then I can only think of one possible reason.”
“And that is?”
“He was looking for someone,” Utsumi said immediately. “Tsukahara was looking for someone without a permanent address. And why would this person not have a permanent address?”
“Because he was unemployed with a criminal record, which prevented him from renting?”
“Think I’m jumping to conclusions?”
“Perhaps. I can’t say whether Senba was the one staying in a budget hotel or not, but it’s very likely that Tsukahara was doing a little sleuthing in his retirement. Old habits die hard.”
If Tsukahara had been on the trail of Senba, then they could pick up where he left off, Kusanagi thought.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Are you going to tell the local police about this? If you do, they might help us find Senba.”
“They don’t know Tokyo like we do.”
“So you’re not going to tell them about this, or what the director said about Tsukahara remembering Senba’s case?”
Kusanagi frowned. “You’re awful feisty all of a sudden. Do you have a problem with not telling them?”
“Are we under orders from the director to offer all possible assistance to the prefectural police?”
Kusanagi sighed. “Haphazardly feeding them information isn’t going to help solve this case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I called the Green Rock Inn last night to talk to Yukawa.”
“You called the inn? Why not his cell phone?”
“I tried that first, but he didn’t pick up. Apparently, his phone got busted in an experiment—something about shoddy waterproofing. Anyway, I talked to him, and of course he knew about the death, but he didn’t know any details beyond the basics. So I explained to him what happened, and how I got put on the case.”
“The professor must’ve been surprised.”
“Not really. In fact, not at all. He didn’t know that the dead man was a former detective, but he had suspected murder.”
“Really? Why was that?”
“The sandal. They found one of the sandals Tsukahara had been wearing on the rocks. But according to Yukawa, the seawall was pretty high—it would’ve been hard to climb up with sandals on. He said it had bothered him, but he trusted the local police to do their jobs, and didn’t want to be a nuisance—his words. So he said nothing.” Kusanagi rolled his eyes.
“How like him. Did he say he would help with the investigation?”
Kusanagi put his foot on the brake and slowed down as the light ahead of them turned yellow. They pulled to a stop just before the line, and he turned to face Utsumi. “What do you think he said?”
Utsumi’s eyes drifted as she thought. “‘I’ve had enough of helping with police investigations, thank you very much.’ Something like that?”
“That’s what you’d expect, right? That’s what I expected, at least. But instead, he said he’d do what he could.”
Utsumi blinked. “Really?”
“I was surprised too. I almost wanted to ask him why, except I was afraid that might make him change his mind.”
“Good call,” Utsumi said. “But what does this have to do with not passing along our information to the prefectural police?”
The light turned green, and Kusanagi turned his eyes back to the road. “Just before he hung up, Yukawa said this might be a ‘particularly thorny’ case. I asked him what he meant, but he didn’t give me a straight answer. That’s when I knew he’d noticed something other than the sandal. Maybe he hadn’t figured it out entirely just yet, but there was definitely something that grabbed his interest about the case.”
“He does have a keen eye—maybe he saw something?”
“Something or someone. He’s got a good eye for people, too, and I’d bet his willingness to get involved is because he knows a person with the key to cracking this puzzle. Which is why I decided to bypass the prefectural police and go straight to Yukawa.” Kusanagi glanced over. “Well? Think I’m barking up the wrong tree?”
“No, I think you’re right to get Yukawa on board. His insight has helped solve more than a few cases in the past. But I think not sharing information with the prefectural police is a separate matter, no?”
“It’s not that I’m not sharing anything with them. It’s more case-by-case. Think about it—to the local police, Yukawa is just another civilian. They don’t know about his reputation, or even his nickname of Detective Galileo. It would never occur to them to ask him to help with their investigation. Yukawa’s powers of perception might be unparalleled, but he can’t use them without access to information, and we’re the only ones who can give him that. Which means that, with all due apologies to the prefectural police, getting valuable information to Yukawa has to be a top priority. Agreed?”
Kusanagi waited until, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Utsumi nod.
“Besides, given Galileo’s predilection for staying completely silent until he’s satisfied with his conclusions, we’re probably the only ones with the patience to use him in the first place.”
“Exactly. We’re the hands and the feet of the operation, and he’s the brain. As per usual.”
It was about twenty minutes later when Kusanagi pulled his car to a stop.
“You have everything we need on Senba, right?” Kusanagi asked. “A photo too, I hope?”
“Yes, though it was taken before he got out of jail.”
“That’ll do. Take this with you, too.” Kusanagi pulled the photo of Tsukahara out of his jacket pocket. “Good luck.”
He handed the photo to Utsumi, who stared blankly at it.
Kusanagi pointed out the front window. “Hop to it, recruit. This is the spot.”
A sign at the intersection just ahead of them read “Namidabashi Bridge.” Billboards and advertisements for cheap hotels were clustered thickly on the streets around them.
“Oh. Right,” Utsumi said, grabbing her shoulder bag and opening the door.
“No matter who you’re talking to, give them a good look at Tsukahara’s face.”
Utsumi nodded and pushed the door firmly shut.
TWENTY-THREE
It was a little after three in the afternoon when Nishiguchi brought Isobe and two of his men to the Green Rock Inn. He’d called ahead, so the Kawahatas and Narumi were waiting for them in the lobby when they arrived. They had nervous looks on their faces that only worsened when they saw Isobe’s scowl.
Isobe began by questioning them in detail about the night that Tsukahara had disappeared. They must’ve been sick of telling the same story over and over again, but they answered every question thoroughly, and plainly. Nishiguchi had heard it so many times that he stopped paying attention about halfway through and instead stared at Narumi.
“Well then,” Isobe said after they had finished. “Could you show us the room where Mr. Tsukahara was staying?”
Setsuko stood. “I’ll be happy to take you. Right this way.”
“I’ll go too,” Shigehiro said, tapping with his cane as he followed Isobe and his men toward the elevator.
“Sorry to have to bother you so much about this,” Nishiguchi said to Narumi once they were alone. “The investigation’s really scaling up, now that they think it wasn’t an accident. And we’re getting more and more new people showing up at the department and telling us what to do.”
Narumi smiled weakly and shook her head. “It’s okay. I should apologize to you for sending you that e-mail. I know you’re busy.”