‘Yeah, that’s stretching it a bit too far for me,’ Kusanagi declared.
‘Is it?’
‘I’ve never heard of anyone mixing something in with their ground coffee to make the brewed stuff taste better. And I don’t think Yoshitaka Mashiba’s the kind of guy who would believe them if they did. If he did believe it, why wouldn’t he have told Ms Wakayama? He had a conversation with her about how to make coffee! Besides, if he had put it in himself, there would be traces of it somewhere else. Arsenous acid is a powder. You’d have to carry it in a baggie or a paper sack, but nothing of the sort has been found on the scene. How do you explain that?’
Utsumi nodded as Kusanagi quickly dismantled her theory.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have a way to explain it. I think what you’re saying is probably right, sir. I’m just worried that there might be some other way we haven’t thought of yet.’
Kusanagi sighed. ‘You want me to trust your female intuition?’
‘I said nothing of the sort. But maybe women do have a different way of thinking—’
‘Hold it right there,’ Mamiya butted in, a weary look on his face. ‘I don’t mind lively discussions, but let’s not lower this to hunches and intuition. Utsumi, you suspect the wife?’
‘Yes, though I’m not completely sure.’
Sounds like intuition to me, Kusanagi thought, but he resisted the urge to say it.
‘What’s your reasoning, then?’ Mamiya asked.
Utsumi took a deep breath before saying: ‘The champagne glasses.’
‘Champagne glasses? What about them?’
‘When we arrived at the scene, there were five recently washed champagne glasses in the kitchen.’ She looked at Kusanagi. ‘You remember?’
‘Yeah, I remember. They were left over from the party on Friday.’
‘The champagne glasses were usually kept in a cupboard in the living room. That’s why when we got to the house there was an empty space on the shelf.’
‘And?’ Mamiya asked. ‘Maybe I’m just slow, but I don’t see what the problem is with the glasses.’
Neither could Kusanagi. He studied her profile, seeing a steady determination.
‘Why didn’t the wife put them away before she left?’
‘Huh?’ Kusanagi grunted. A moment later, Mamiya echoed him.
‘So what if she didn’t put them away?’ Kusanagi demanded.
‘I just think that normally she would have. You saw the cupboard, right? It was perfectly organized – so well that the space for the missing champagne glasses was obvious. I’m guessing she’s the kind of person that can’t relax if her important glassware isn’t exactly where it should be. Which makes the fact that she didn’t return the champagne glasses to their proper place rather curious.’
‘Maybe she just forgot?’ Kusanagi suggested.
Utsumi firmly shook her head. ‘Impossible.’
‘How so?’
‘Maybe on any old day she might forget for a little while, but she was heading away on a trip that weekend. It is very hard to imagine that she would have left those champagne glasses out.’
Kusanagi glanced over at Mamiya, wondering if his own face looked as astonished as the chief’s. Utsumi had raised a question that hadn’t even occurred to him.
‘I can only think of one reason why the wife wouldn’t have put away the champagne glasses,’ the young detective continued. ‘If she knew she wouldn’t be away for very long, she wouldn’t have felt the need to rush and clean them up.’
Mamiya sat down in his seat, crossing his arms. He looked up at Kusanagi. ‘Your rebuttal?’
Kusanagi scratched his head. He didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, he turned to Utsumi and asked: ‘Why didn’t you bring this up sooner? Didn’t it occur to you as soon as we got to the house?’
She shrugged, an unusually demure smile rising to her lips. ‘I didn’t want to get scolded for obsessing over details. And I figured that, if the wife really was guilty, we’d probably find out some other way eventually … Sorry.’
Mamiya breathed out a deep sigh. ‘We’ve got some work to do, Kusanagi,’ he said. ‘What’s the point of having our new detective on the team if she doesn’t feel at ease sharing her observations with us, hmm?’
‘Oh, it’s not like that—’ Utsumi began, but Mamiya lifted his hand.
‘Don’t be afraid to speak what’s on your mind any time you like. There’s no rank and no gender when we’re on the case. I’ll pass what you just told us on to Division, but don’t get too comfortable, no matter how keen your observation may be. It is a little odd that she didn’t put those glasses back, but it’s not exactly incriminating evidence. What we need is something we can prove. So right now, what I want both of you to do is find proof that Mrs Mashiba’s alibi holds, if it does. It’s not your job to worry about how we’re going to use that information. Understood?’
Utsumi lowered her eyes for a moment and blinked several times before she looked back up. ‘Understood,’ she said, staring the chief straight in the eye.
SEVEN
Hiromi opened her eyes to the sound of her ringing mobile phone.
She hadn’t been asleep – just lying on her bed with her eyes closed, ready for yet another sleepless night. She still had some sleeping pills that Yoshitaka had given her, but she was scared to take them.
She sat up, her body leaden, a vague ache in her temples. She was scared even to pick up the phone. Who could be calling me at this hour? She glanced at the clock. It was almost ten.
When she saw the name on the digital display, it woke her like a splash of frigid water. It was Ayane. She quickly pressed the talk button.
‘Yes? Hiromi speaking.’ Her voice was hoarse.
‘Hi, it’s Ayane. I’m sorry, were you asleep?’
‘No, just lying down. I’m sorry about not coming back over this morning.’
‘It’s okay. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. How about you? You must be exhausted,’ Hiromi asked, wondering if the detectives had told Ayane about her affair with Yoshitaka.
‘A little, yes. It’s all so confusing … I still can’t really believe it happened.’
The same was true for Hiromi. It was like an interminable nightmare. ‘I know,’ she said to her phone.
‘Are you sure you’re okay, Hiromi? You’re not sick?’
‘No, I’m fine. I should be able to go to work tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Actually, I was wondering if we could get together?’
‘Now?’ Hiromi asked, a sudden unease rising in her chest. ‘What is it?’
‘This is something I want to talk to you about in person. I don’t think it will take very long. If you’re tired, I can come over there.’
Phone pressed to her ear, Hiromi shook her head. ‘No, I’ll come over. Give me about an hour, I have to get dressed.’
‘Actually, I’m at a hotel now.’
‘Oh?’
‘The police wanted to check some more stuff in the house, so they have me staying here. I just swapped some of the things in the suitcase I took to Sapporo and brought it along.’
Hiromi’s boss explained that she was staying in a hotel close to Shinagawa station on the southern side of Tokyo.
‘I’ll be right there,’ Hiromi said, ending the call.
While she was getting ready to go, her mind spun, trying to imagine what Ayane wanted to talk about. If she was so worried about how I’m feeling, why did she want me to come over right away? Maybe she was feeling that time was tight – or that what she had to say was so important it couldn’t be put off.
On the train to Shinagawa, Hiromi sat nervously, unable to refrain from imagining what Ayane was going to tell her. Maybe she’d heard about the affair. Her voice hadn’t sounded harsh over the phone, but what if she’d been hiding her feelings?