Senba nodded slowly. The hospital director had told them that the patient occasionally slipped out of consciousness, but he seemed to be fully alert at the moment.
“There’s something I’d like you to see,” Yukawa said, pulling a sheet of paper out of his case.
Kusanagi glanced at it from the side. It looked like a printout of a photograph, showing a painting of the ocean. Distant clouds floating in a blue sky reflected off the surface of the water. In the foreground, the coastline traced a gentle curve, and near the rocks, waves sent up a white spray.
Yukawa turned the picture toward Senba, and the reaction was instantaneous. It was as if something buried deep within him suddenly came welling up to the surface, charging his body with electricity. His skin blushed ever so slightly, and his clouded eyes became red. He groaned.
“This painting is on the wall at a small hotel called the Green Rock Inn. Perhaps you’ve seen it? It shows the view of the ocean from East Hari. I believe you lived there with your wife just before she passed. I should think the ocean looks much like this from her house. In fact…” Yukawa leaned forward, placing the photograph closer to Senba. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you or your wife had painted it. Then, after she died, and you left the house in East Hari behind, you held onto it as a memento, a treasure. Something you would only give to the most important person in your life. Am I right?”
Senba’s eyes widened, and his entire body went stiff. His breathing had grown ragged, making him shudder at regular intervals.
The nurse looked at him, worried, but when she looked like she might step in, Senba raised his left hand to wave her back. Mustering his strength, he took a deep breath. A look of determination came over his face.
“That … that’s not true,” he said in a thin voice. “I’ve never seen that painting before. Not … not in my entire life.”
“Are you sure? Please take a close look,” Yukawa said, holding the photograph even closer.
“No!” Senba batted at it with his other hand, knocking the paper out of Yukawa’s grasp. It fluttered and fell to the floor.
“I see,” Yukawa said calmly. “I have another photograph I’d like to show you.” He pulled another piece of paper out of his case.
Kusanagi peered over his shoulder at it. This time, it was a picture of a young woman. She looked like she was sitting behind the wheel of a car. She had a look of surprise on her face, as if she wasn’t expecting her photograph to be taken. She was attractive, with a healthy tan.
“I told you earlier that the cove is being well looked after. This is the woman who’s doing that. I’m going back to Hari Cove today. Isn’t there anything you’d like me to tell her for you?” Yukawa showed the photograph to Senba.
Senba’s face twisted halfway between tears and a smile. His many wrinkles froze in curved lines down his face, and his lips fluttered.
“Well?” Yukawa asked again. “Don’t you have any message for the woman responsible for protecting your home?”
Senba’s emaciated body convulsed. But then his throat moved like he was trying to swallow something, and the spasms subsided. He straightened his spine, and thrust out his chest, his sunken eyes fixed on Yukawa.
“I don’t know this woman, but tell her … thank you,” he said forcefully.
Yukawa blinked and a smile came to his lips. He looked downward for a moment, then back up at Senba. “I will tell her you said that. You can keep the photograph.”
He handed the two photographs to the nurse and turned to Kusanagi. “Let’s go,” Yukawa said, walking straight out the door.
“You’re done?” Kusanagi asked.
Yukawa only nodded.
Kusanagi looked over at Utsumi, then stood. He bowed his head to Senba and the nurse, and thanked them.
Outside the visitors’ room, the three walked toward the elevator in silence broken only by the echoes of their footsteps. While they were waiting for the elevator, they heard the sound of the door to the visitors’ room open. The nurse came out, pushing Senba in his wheelchair. She saw them and nodded in their direction, but Senba’s head was bent over and he wasn’t moving. The two photographs were clutched in his hands.
“You said that Nobuko Miyake met with Senba the day before she was killed?” Yukawa asked after they reached the parking lot. It was the first thing any of them had said since they left the hospice.
“That’s right, at a bar they used to frequent.”
“Any idea what they were talking about?”
Kusanagi shrugged. “I don’t know, the good old days? Except the bartender back then said that he saw Senba crying.”
“Crying,” Yukawa echoed, almost as if he had expected this. “Right.”
“You mind telling us what this is all about?”
Yukawa checked his wristwatch and opened the door to Utsumi’s Pajero. “Let’s talk in the car. We’ll get sunstroke standing out here, and, as I just said to Mr. Senba, I need to get back to Hari Cove.”
Kusanagi nodded to Utsumi, and she pulled the keys from her bag.
“Why do you think Nobuko Miyake went to Ogikubo?” Yukawa asked from the backseat as they drove.
Kusanagi looked around. “That’s exactly the question Tsukahara was asking after he arrested Senba. He never found out the reason himself, but I think it’s pretty clear at this point: she went there to meet with Setsuko Kawahata.”
“I agree, that’s the most obvious explanation. So why did she go to meet her?”
“Well, maybe when she was talking about the old days with Senba, she remembered Setsuko, and wanted to catch up.…” Kusanagi said before his voice trailed off. He shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”
“It’s not,” Yukawa agreed. “First of all, it would’ve been difficult for her to find out where Setsuko Kawahata was living, since the house she was staying at wasn’t her official address. She could have gone back to their mutual friends from their nightclub days and found out that way, but that would’ve taken quite a bit of time. So she would’ve had to have had a pretty good reason for wanting to see her—more than just wanting to catch up.”
“We know that Nobuko was in financial straits,” Utsumi said. “Maybe she went to borrow money?”
Kusanagi snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “That’s it. She got the idea when she was talking to Senba. Right?” He turned back to look at Yukawa.
“I can’t think of any other reason myself,” he said, “but that raises a new question. Why did Nobuko believe Setsuko would give her money? If they were that close, wouldn’t she have gone to see her before then?”
“That’s true, and as far as I’m aware, Setsuko and Nobuko weren’t all that close,” Kusanagi said, crossing his arms.
“They weren’t close, but she was sure Setsuko would give her money—absolutely sure. What does that suggest?” Yukawa asked.
“She had something on her,” Utsumi suggested. “She knew her weak spot.”
“A weak spot, yeah,” Kusanagi nodded. “In other words, she was collecting hush money.”
“Correct,” said the physicist. “Nobuko learned something from Senba about Setsuko Kawahata, a secret that only she and Senba knew until that moment. Then Nobuko went to use that secret as leverage to pry money from her. That accounts for the special trip out to Ogikubo the very next day.”
“But things didn’t go the way Nobuko planned,” Kusanagi said, continuing the story. “Instead of money, Setsuko killed Nobuko to keep her quiet. Which means we’re talking about a pretty damn big secret. Come on, Yukawa, I know you know. Spit it out already.”