When she opened the heavy door leading to the holding cell, Keiko clasped her arms around herself. The heating should be the same here as on other floors, but this was a place full of steel bars, and no warmth could be felt.
At the guard desk was an unusually handsome-featured young police officer. His name was Saito. He lived in the same district as Keiko, west of the train station, and Keiko recognized him. His lifestyle seemed extravagant to her, as he bought new-model cars quite often. It was rumored that he was in debt to the agency’s savings cooperative.
“Where is Mr. Itami?” Keiko asked him as these thoughts passed through her mind.
“Please wait,” Saito responded, unexpectedly politely. He got up and went into the office behind her.
Shortly, in place of the handsome officer, the square-jawed chief emerged.
Saying only, “This way,” Itami began walking quickly along the hallway lined with cells.
Keiko followed him.
The bars on the cells were covered on the bottom half, but the top half was left open. This meant that the detainees could look out onto the hallway if they stood up. Seven p.m. With supper over, they were stuck with nothing to do. They stared out from their cells with curiosity.
As he walked ahead of her, Itami half turned and said, “Normally I wouldn’t listen to particular requests from our guests. But Number Fifteen was insistent on seeing you. I’m making a special exception.”
Tell that to Number 15, or whoever. But Keiko kept quiet and nodded at his patronizing words.
The cell where Itami stopped was at the farthest point from the guard desk.
“Hey, Number Fifteen.”
When Itami called out, a man near them turned around. It was a forty-year-old man wearing a soiled jacket. When she saw his face, Keiko swallowed her breath.
Nekozaki. A long scar under his right eye. There was no mistake. It was Soichi Yokozaki.
Yokozaki soundlessly approached the bars. From his narrow eyes an expressionless gaze was directed at her.
“When were you released?” Keiko said.
Yokozaki didn’t reply.
“Just ten days ago,” Itami answered in his stead. “He was finally let out, but then he stole some money from an old woman’s house, so now he’s back in here.”
It was the burglary at Fusano’s house. So it had been Yokozaki after all.
Wait, though. He might also be involved in the street killings. She wondered about this, but she immediately stopped short. The first killing was about twenty days ago. Yokozaki was still in prison then.
“Was that case really your doing?”
Yokozaki didn’t bother to answer this either.
“Must have been.” Again, Itami spoke for him. “It was just decided today that his prison sentence will be extended ten days.”
Even though the court had decided upon a ten-day extension of his sentence while the burglary was investigated, she still couldn’t believe that Yokozaki had committed the burglary.
“Where are you living now? What’s your address?”
She didn’t expect that Yokozaki would answer. She kept her eyes on the man inside the cell, but her voice was aimed at Itami.
“The station. That night he was digging in the trash bins in the area west of the station. He must have been tempted to go into the old woman’s house.”
“Wait a minute. You mean Kinesaka station?”
“Sure.”
“What do you mean, he lives there?”
“You know, there are four or five cardboard shelters on the concourse there.”
“Yes.”
“It’s one of those that is Number Fifteen’s address.”
“...Really?”
The new arrival had been Yokozaki.
“And,” her voice went high. This was because a certain phrase crossed her mind. Clearing her throat, Keiko continued, “What do you want from me?”
At this, finally, Yokozaki’s face moved. Showing his tongue, he slowly licked his lips and spoke in a hoarse voice.
4.
“Thanks. It’s been a help.” Quickly saying so, Keiko alighted from the car.
“Boss,” her junior colleague leaned across the passenger seat and said, “you should take a rest.”
“Why?”
“You don’t look so well. The chief is worried, too.”
“If I take a rest, will the killer also rest?” she answered in a joking fashion, pushing aside the headache that had set in.
Her colleague closed his mouth and pulled back to sit up straight in the driver’s seat.
Before she slid the key into her front door lock, she tested its strength by jiggling the doorknob. With staff being shifted to the violent-crimes section, the burglary section was now short-handed, so it was best to be cautious.
As soon as she stepped into the house, she called out, “Natsu!”
There was no answer. She could hear water splashing in the bathroom. Natsuki must be taking a bath.
On the dining table was a newspaper. It was opened to the same page she had seen just four hours before in the squad room. Was her daughter looking at the city page every day in order to find out more about her mother’s work?
Keiko searched in her tool box and brought out a small penlight and sat down in a chair. What occupied her mind was Yokozaki’s face.
What is he cooking up?
After a while, Natsuki came out of the bathroom. As her hair wasn’t wet, Keiko decided she must not have been soaking in the tub but rather washing the tub out.
“Could you sit here for a second?” Pointing to the chair across from her with one hand, with the other she pulled out a photograph from her bag. It was a mug shot of Yokozaki. When she had returned from the lockup, Keiko had rushed to the records room and opened up his case file. She had made a copy of his photograph.
“Look at this,” she said, putting the photograph on the table in front of Natsuki. “Take a good look at this face and remember it.”
Natsuki took the photo in her hand.
“His name is Yokozaki. He’s a stalker, a word we’ve heard a lot lately. That’s what he is. He’s a bad character who pursues his target to the end. He’s persistent, like a cat, so his nickname is Nekozaki, Cat-zaki. Some time ago, he stalked his ex-wife and ended up slashing her with a box cutter.”
Her eyes glued to the photo, Natsuki nodded.
“And I caught him and sent him to prison. So he must hate me for it.”
Natsuki blinked several times.
“Yokozaki’s been released from prison and has started living at the train station. He’s one of the homeless at Kinesaka station. That means he’s moved close to our house. So I’m a little worried.”
Natsuki lifted her eyes from the photo.
“Remember what you said the other day? Paying their respects? It just may be that he’s targeting me. This is only a possibility, but you may be in danger as well.”
Natsuki returned the photo to Keiko.
“Keep it,” Keiko continued, staying her daughter’s hand. “As luck would have it, Yokozaki’s in jail right now. But he’ll probably be released in ten days.”
From what the burglary-section officer had said, the only reason for Yokozaki’s arrest was eyewitness testimony from a nearby resident who had stated, “I saw a man with a scar beneath his eye.” If no other physical evidence was discovered, it was likely that he would be released when his lockup sentence was up.
“It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ll fight him off and protect you. But, to be safe, just remember this face. And if you see him somewhere, run away. Understand?”