Tamiko pressed her free hand to her temples.
“For God’s sake, Koji, don’t talk about killing people.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My pain is neither here nor there. What I want to know is why this happened. Mineko was such a lovely person... The police asked me all sorts of questions, but I don’t have any worthwhile information at all. I feel so useless.”
“Don’t torment yourself. No one can know what they don’t know, right?”
“I was one of her best friends.”
“Listen, I don’t know everything about my close friends. That’s just how life is.”
Now it was Tamiko’s turn to lapse into silence. She knew what Koji was trying to say, but the crisp certainty of his tone only saddened her.
“A detective came to see me today,” said Koji. “A different one from last time. This one’s name was Kaga.”
“I know him. We’ve met a couple of times.”
“Bit of an oddball. God knows why, but he gave me a present: rolled omelet.”
“Rolled omelet?”
“‘Because it’s a traditional dish,’ he said. Anyway, he hands me this thing then asks if I’m more of a knife-and-fork or chopstick kind of guy. Nuts! I told him that I was better than average at plying the old chopsticks.”
“What did he say about the murder?”
“He started out by asking me if Mineko and I had met. I said yes, that the three of us had gone out for dinner a couple of times. Next it was, did I remember what we’d talked about? I told him I couldn’t remember all the details, but that it was probably stuff like how you and I met. He’s like, ‘Why don’t you tell me about that?’”
“About how we met? Why should he care?”
“Search me. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer when I asked the same thing. Like I said, he’s a funny one. Next thing it’s do I have a cell phone? When I say I do, he asks me to show it to him.”
Tamiko remembered what Kaga had told her when he had dropped in on her earlier.
“And did you?”
“Sure. Then he’s like, ‘How long have you had this phone?’ What on earth was all that about?”
“Goodness only knows,” said Tamiko, though she knew perfectly well what Kaga was after. Believing that it was the murderer who had called Mineko from a pay phone, he wanted to check whether or not Koji had lost his cell phone. Kaga, in other words, regarded Koji as a suspect.
What an idiot! Tamiko thought. She’d been with Koji right up until she had gone over to Mineko’s apartment and found her dead. His alibi was rock solid. The police shouldn’t have any trouble figuring that out.
Unless—
Unless Kaga didn’t believe her. Or did he think that Koji somehow arrived at the apartment just before her and murdered her friend?
She’d told Kaga that her plan to move to London had sparked some friction between her and Mineko. Surely no sane person could see something that trivial as a motive for murder? Or did Kaga think Koji had some other motive?
Kaga had made a good first impression on Tamiko. He seemed sensitive, someone it was safe to trust. That’s why she had been so frank and open with him right from the start. The trouble was that she had no way of knowing if he was being straight with her. Perhaps he was just pretending to be sympathetic.
“Hey, Tamiko, are you still there?” Koji said.
“Oh... uh, yeah. Go on, what else did Kaga ask you?”
“That’s everything. He sort of popped up, asked a few questions, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. It was kind of creepy.”
“There’s no need to worry. He was probably just double-checking something.”
“I thought so, too,” said Koji breezily.
“Listen, I’m kind of tired. I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Right. Sorry to keep you on the phone. Sleep well, okay?”
“I’ll try. Thanks. ’Night.”
“Good night,” said Koji.
Tamiko hung up and collapsed into bed.
She wondered what the future held for her. Would the sorrow gradually fade away so she could enjoy being with Koji again? How was she supposed to process what had happened to Mineko? Would she just forget about Mineko in the natural course of things?
Tamiko closed her eyes. She’d hoped to fall asleep right away, but it wasn’t happening. Instead, her head felt thick and heavy.
“Is that your final decision?”
Suddenly, Tamiko heard Mineko’s voice and, in her mind’s eye, saw her face. There was a sharp furrow of anxiety between her eyebrows.
It was when Tamiko had told her about her plan to relocate to London with Koji.
“Yes. I think it’s what I want to do,” Tamiko had shyly replied.
“What about your work? What are you going to do with your translation business?”
“I... I’m going to finish off all the projects I’m currently working on and then get out of the business. Chances are that my work will dry up anyway after I move to London.”
Mineko’s eyes flitted restlessly about. Noticing her bewilderment, Tamiko had quickly added more.
“Of course, I’ll do what I can for you. I can introduce you to a number of translation agencies, plus there are some people I know in publishing who can probably send some work your way, too. There’s no need for you to worry.”
Mineko had avoided looking her in the eye.
“I can’t believe it. I only got divorced because you promised to help me...”
Tamiko had been at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never saw this coming, either.”
Mineko had pressed a hand to her temple.
“I’m screwed,” she had muttered, half to herself. “If I’d known things were going to turn out like this, I’d have held out for more money.”
She was referring to her divorce settlement.
“Don’t worry. You’re an excellent translator. You’ll get more than enough work to make a living.”
Mineko had glared at her coldly.
“How do you know that? It won’t be that easy.”
“I meant what I said.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not blaming you. Hey, the man you love asks you to marry him, and any promises you made to your friends go out the window. That’s normal enough.”
“It’s not like that. I feel awful. Can’t you at least believe that?”
“Well, if you really felt guilty about what you’re doing...” Mineko had shaken her head. “Oh, what’s the point? I should never have trusted anyone else. When it comes down to it, I’m the one who has to take care of myself.”
“But Mineko...,” protested Tamiko.
Mineko had put the money for her drink on the table, stood up, and stalked out of the café.
Her back as she walked away — that was the last time Tamiko had seen Mineko alive.
She was tormented by remorse. I shouldn’t have let things end like that. I should have run after her and hashed things out. We could have reached an understanding.
Instead, Tamiko had left things hanging for nearly two weeks. Mineko had every reason to see her as selfish and irresponsible. And when they were finally going to get together again, she’d called at the last minute to push the appointment back an hour. On the phone, Mineko had just said, “Okay, eight o’clock it is. See you later.” Inside, though, she was probably seething. And that hour’s delay had ended up costing Mineko her life.
“Forgive me, Mineko,” murmured Tamiko. God only knows how many times she’d said those words since the murder. But in her heart, she knew that no matter how many times she said she was sorry, her friend would never hear.