She’s certainly a looker... The thought pushed its way through Koki’s resentment. Despite her self-possession, he could see that she was still young. She’s not even ten years older than me.
“My father is a suspect. The police think he might have killed my mom. If you’re his mistress and your relationship predated the divorce, my mother would have had the right to claim compensatory damages from my father. The police think he killed her to avoid having to pay.”
Yuri Miyamoto’s eyes widened.
“That’s absurd. How can you suspect your own father?”
“It’s the police who suspect him, not me.”
She shook her head vigorously.
“The important thing is how you feel. If you really trusted your father, you wouldn’t be so easily influenced by what other people say.”
Was she telling him off? Koki angrily clenched his jaw.
“When you get down to it, I guess I don’t trust him much at all.”
Yuri Miyamoto’s eyes took on a steely look. “You’re shittin’ me?”
“Oh, very street. I love it.”
“Who cares how I speak? You’re serious? You really don’t trust your own father?”
“No, I don’t. More to the point, I can’t. He never paid any attention to his family; even his own wife filing for divorce didn’t give him pause. Then, the minute he’s divorced, he gets himself a woman like you. How can I trust a man like that? He didn’t even bother coming to my mother’s funeral.”
Yuri Miyamoto was looking up at the ceiling and muttering something to herself.
“What’s got into you?” asked Koki.
Ignoring him, she kept on muttering. Listening closely, he managed to make out what she was saying: “I can’t handle this anymore. I can’t handle this anymore.”
Koki was about to say something, when she tilted her head back down. There was steel in her eyes.
“Koki, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Huh?”
“I shouldn’t be the one to do this, but I simply can’t bear it anymore. I’m going to tell you the truth.”
“The truth? What do you mean?”
“Just shut up and listen.” As if to get her courage up, Yuri Miyamoto downed her latte in a single gulp.
5
The restaurant to which Kaga took Naohiro was Matsuya. Since it described itself as a ryotei — an old-fashioned Japanese-style restaurant — on the sign outside, Naohiro was surprised when they were shown into a big room with Western furniture.
That was about as far as Naohiro’s interest in the design of the place went. His whole focus switched to Kaga as soon as the detective opened his mouth. Kaga revealed Mineko’s reasons for choosing to live in Kodenmacho — how she’d located her only son, discovered that his girlfriend was pregnant and then moved to be near them both, unaware that through a series of coincidences she’d gotten the wrong impression of what was really going on. Koki was right, thought Naohiro. None of it had anything to do with him. If Mineko hadn’t been murdered, the whole thing would have been nothing more than a silly story for them to laugh about. Now, however, it was different: listening to Kaga, Naohiro felt a tightness in his chest.
“So what do you think?” concluded Kaga, as he reached for his beer.
Naohiro had ordered the same craft beer from Hida, and like Kaga, he’d yet to drink a drop.
“The whole thing’s a big surprise. I’d never have guessed what was behind her move,” stated Naohiro frankly.
“According to her lawyer, your wife had her doubts about your fidelity at the time of the divorce. She was pretty confident that a thorough investigation would turn something up. In the end, though, she opted for a friendly negotiation. Her priority was her independence. That she was prepared to go for compensatory damages at this late stage tends to suggest that she had a strong reason for doing so.”
“Something to do with her thinking that our son was about to become a dad, you mean? That would make sense.” Naohiro took a swig of beer. “But I wasn’t unfaithful to her.”
“I hear that the presence of a certain Yuri Miyamoto is setting tongues wagging at your firm. Those rumors could have found their way back to your wife. She might have regarded them as grounds to sue for damages.”
Naohiro shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You may think so, but when you install an unknown young woman in your private office immediately after getting divorced, people are bound to speculate that there was a preexisting relationship. And the two of you did have a relationship, didn’t you? The next question is, what kind of relationship was it? When a man and a woman are involved, people tend to jump to the same conclusion... No one would ever think of a blood relationship.”
Naohiro started and looked hard at Kaga. The Nihonbashi detective, apparently unaware of having said anything shocking, was coolly lifting an appetizer to his mouth.
Naohiro heaved a guttural sigh.
“Why am I not surprised? I thought you’d figured it out when Yuri said you’d spoken to her. You asked about her ring, didn’t you?”
“The ring she had on her left pinkie was handmade. I don’t want to be rude, but it was easy to see that it wasn’t the work of a professional. As it wasn’t in line with her overall look, I guessed that it was a gift from someone special. I’d seen similar rings before — fifty-yen coins hollowed out with a file.”
Naohiro was scratching the corner of his eyebrow with a fingertip and smiling sheepishly.
“They were quite popular twenty-something years back. Men who didn’t have the money to buy a proper ring made them for their sweethearts. Nobody makes them these days — let alone a pinkie ring version.”
“I gave that ring to her mother as a present.”
“I guessed as much. The mother must have been petite, with delicate little hands and fingers, making the ring the right size for her ring finger.”
“I was in my twenties and didn’t have a penny to my name.” Naohiro tipped a slug of beer down his throat.
It had happened back when people still went to bars to sing karaoke, rather than rent private rooms, Naohiro explained. Having graduated from college but having not yet found a full-time job, he was making ends meet by working at a little karaoke bar. The pay was atrocious, but he was young. The idea of saving anything had never crossed his mind.
A woman by the name of Tokiko worked at the same bar. She was the manager and was five years older than he. She’d already been married — and divorced.
One night, when Tokiko was drunk, Naohiro had taken her back to his place. They began sleeping together. Naohiro was head over heels in love with her and was convinced that she felt the same.
On Tokiko’s birthday, after they had closed the bar, Naohiro gave her his present — a ring made from a hollowed-out fifty-yen piece. As he handed it to her, he proposed.
Overcome with emotion, Tokiko began to cry, repeating the words “thank you” over and over, and promising to treasure the ring all her life.
Naohiro hadn’t gotten an answer to his marriage proposal that night.
“I’m heading back to my parents’ place for three days tomorrow. I’ll give you my answer after that. There’s something I want to give you, too.”
Tokiko was smiling though her eyes were puffy with tears.
Sure enough, Tokiko didn’t come in to work for the next three days. But she didn’t reappear on the fourth day, either. The bartender who was subbing for her told Naohiro that she’d quit.
Naohiro had rushed over to Tokiko’s apartment. The place had been cleaned out. He was mystified. A few days later, he received a letter from her. There was no address on it.