Her face wilting, Hiromi gave the names of three hotels. They were all first-class places in the city, and large hotels at that. Unless the trysting couple had gone there every day, none of the people on staff were likely to remember their faces.
‘Did you meet on predetermined days?’ Utsumi continued.
‘No – we figured out what would work over e-mail.’
‘How often did you meet?’
Hiromi shrugged. ‘Once a week or thereabouts.’
Utsumi finished writing and gave Kusanagi a quick nod.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘thanks for your time. We don’t have any more questions for you today.’
‘I doubt I have anything else I could tell you even if you did,’ Hiromi said gloomily.
Kusanagi smiled at her and picked up the bill.
The three left the restaurant and were headed towards the car park when Hiromi suddenly stopped.
‘Umm …’
‘Something wrong?’ Kusanagi turned to look at her.
‘Can I go home?’
The detective blinked. ‘Didn’t Mrs Mashiba ask you over?’
‘Yes, but I’m really tired, and honestly, I don’t feel very good. Could you tell her that for me?’
‘Sure. It’s fine by us.’
‘Would you like a lift?’ Utsumi asked.
‘No, thanks. I’ll get a cab.’
Hiromi turned and walked away. A taxi rounded the corner; she hailed it and got inside. Kusanagi stood watching as the car rejoined the flow of traffic.
‘Do you think she thought we were going to tell Mrs Mashiba about their affair?’
‘I can’t say,’ Utsumi replied, ‘but after she told us all that, she probably didn’t want to be seen talking to the wife as if nothing had happened.’
‘Hmm. Good point.’
‘Still, I wonder if she really hasn’t noticed.’
‘If who hasn’t noticed?’
‘Mrs Mashiba. Do you really think she doesn’t know what was going on?’
‘I’m guessing no.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘From the way she acted earlier. Practically the first thing she did when she saw Ms Wakayama was burst into tears and hug her.’
‘I guess.’ Utsumi looked down.
‘What? If you’ve got something to say, say it.’
She looked back up, straight at Kusanagi. ‘Something occurred to me when I saw the two of them in front of the house. I thought, what if she wants us to see her crying like that? Crying in front of the last person in the world she wanted to cry with.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Sorry, never mind. I’ll get the car.’
Dumbfounded, Kusanagi watched Utsumi dash off.
SIX
Back at the Mashiba residence, Mamiya had already finished questioning Ayane. Kusanagi informed the widow that Ms Wakayama had been feeling out of sorts and had gone home.
‘I understand,’ Ayane said. ‘I’m sure she’s in as much shock as I am.’ She was holding a teacup in both hands, a far-off look in her eyes. She was still frowning, but as she sat on the sofa there was a certain poise to her posture, a rigidity in her spine that spoke of inner strength.
A mobile phone rang in the handbag that lay beside her. She took it out and glanced towards Mamiya, seeking his approval.
He nodded.
She checked the display on the phone before answering.
‘Yes? … Yes, I’m fine … The police are here right now. They’re not sure yet. They found him lying in the living room … Of course, I’ll tell you as soon as I know. And tell Dad not to worry. Yeah. Bye.’ She hung up and informed Mamiya that the call had been from her mother.
‘Have you told her what happened?’ Kusanagi asked.
‘Only that he died suddenly. She wanted to know why, but I wasn’t sure what to say.’ Ayane put a hand to her forehead.
‘Have you told your husband’s office?’
‘Yes. I told the legal consultant this morning before leaving Sapporo. That’s the Mr Ikai I told you about.’
‘The one at the dinner party on Friday?’
‘Yes. Their office is a mess with the CEO gone … I only wish there was more I could do to help.’ A pained look came over Ayane’s face; she stared at nothing, eyes focused on a single point in space. She’s trying to appear strong, Kusanagi thought. But I can see the tension in her. The façade might crumble at any moment. He felt impelled to help her.
‘Maybe you should have a relative or another friend come to keep you company until Ms Wakayama’s feeling better? Even simple day-to-day things can seem overwhelming at times like these.’
‘I’m all right. And you probably don’t want a lot of people tromping around just yet, do you?’
Mamiya turned to Kusanagi, a discomfited look on his face. ‘Forensics is coming in again this afternoon – we have Mrs Mashiba’s okay.’
So she wouldn’t even be given a chance to mourn in peace. Kusanagi lowered his head to the widow in silence.
Mamiya stood. ‘Sorry to take up so much of your time this morning, Mrs Mashiba. Kishitani will be staying behind, so if you need something – chores, anything – just let him know.’
Ayane thanked him in a small voice, as Mamiya and Kusanagi took their leave.
‘So how’d it go?’ Mamiya asked Kusanagi as soon as they were outside.
‘Ms Wakayama confirmed that she was in a relationship with the deceased, starting about three months ago. She says no one knew.’
Mamiya’s nostrils flared. ‘And the coffee cup in the sink?’
‘Was from when they had coffee Sunday morning – made by Ms Wakayama, apparently. She said nothing seemed out of the ordinary.’
‘So the coffee was poisoned after that,’ Mamiya concluded with a scratch at the stubble on his chin.
‘Get anything from Mrs Mashiba?’
A sour look came over the chief’s face and he shook his head. ‘Nothing good. I don’t even know if she was aware he was having an affair. I asked her pretty directly if there were any other women, but she denied it, and looked pretty surprised that I’d asked. No indecision, no wandering eyes. It didn’t look like an act. If it was, she’s a pro.’
Kusanagi stole a sidelong glance at Utsumi, who clearly was of the opinion that Ayane’s tearful embrace with Hiromi Wakayama had been a performance. She’d said she wanted to ask the chief what he thought, but now the young detective seemed intent only on taking notes.
‘Think we should tell Mrs Mashiba her husband was cheating on her?’
Mamiya immediately shook his head. ‘No need for us to let that particular cat out of the bag. I can’t see how it would help the investigation. I’m guessing you two will be seeing a lot more of her in the coming days, so be careful what you say.’
‘So we hide it.’
‘No, we just don’t go out of our way to tell her. If she figures something out on her own, well, there’s nothing we can do about that. Assuming she doesn’t know already.’ Mamiya pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and glanced at it. ‘I want you to go to this address.’
The name Tatsuhiko Ikai was written on the paper, along with a telephone number and an address.
‘Ask him how the deceased was doing lately, and about that party on Friday.’
‘I hear Mr Ikai’s a busy man trying to keep Mr Mashiba’s business afloat.’
‘Then talk to his wife. Call first. Mrs Mashiba says she just had a baby two months ago, so we should go easy on her.’
Apparently Ayane was told about their intention to question the Ikais. Kusanagi was honestly impressed that she’d had the presence of mind to be concerned about the strain on anyone but herself.
Utsumi brought the car around and they headed towards the Ikai residence. Kusanagi called while they were on the way. The moment he introduced himself as a policeman, Yukiko Ikai’s voice took on a grave tone. Kusanagi emphasized that all they needed was to ask some simple questions, and she finally relented and invited them over, but asked them to give her an hour. The two detectives spotted a coffee shop where they could wait and went inside.