She didn’t want to answer the question, but lying didn’t seem like an option. ‘Yesterday morning. We had coffee together. The detectives asked me all about it, but all I could tell them was that I didn’t notice anything unusual at the time. Not about the house, or … Mr Mashiba.’
‘Right,’ Ayane said, tilting her head in thought for a moment before looking at Hiromi. ‘You haven’t kept anything a secret from the detectives, have you? You told them everything, right?’
‘I think so.’
‘Well, okay then. But if you remember anything that you might’ve forgotten, you should tell them as soon as you can. They might suspect you, too, you know.’
‘I think they already do suspect me. I’m the only one who saw him over the weekend.’
‘That’s true. I suppose that is where they would start looking.’
‘Should I tell them about this, too? That we met here tonight?’
Ayane nodded, putting a hand to her forehead. ‘I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. I certainly don’t care. And if you tried to hide it, they might take it the wrong way.’
‘Okay.’
Ayane’s lips softened into a smile. ‘It’s funny, don’t you think? Here we are, the woman abandoned and her husband’s lover, in the same room, talking. And instead of being at each other’s throats, we’re at our wits’ end. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t matter anymore, now that he’s dead.’
Hiromi didn’t have an answer for that, though she realized that she felt the same. She only knew that if Yoshitaka were to spring back to life, she wouldn’t care about her teacher’s anger. She understood instinctively that her own loss right then was even greater than Ayane’s, just as she knew that this was the last thing she could tell anyone.
EIGHT
Ayane Mashiba’s parents lived in a tidy, organized residential quarter of Sapporo, and their house was a squat, square three-storey structure. The ground floor was a garage, but was treated as a basement for zoning purposes, with two regular storeys above it. A stairway led up to the front entrance on the second storey.
‘There are lots of houses like this around here,’ Ayane’s father, Kazuhiro Mita, explained, putting out some rice crackers for his guests. ‘We get a lot of snow in the winter, so the front door has to be a way off the ground.’
Kusanagi nodded. It’s a different world up here. He reached for the steaming cup of tea that Ayane’s mother, Tokiko, had just brought. She sat down next to her husband, the empty tea tray resting on her lap.
‘We were very surprised to hear the news about Mr Mashiba. We didn’t know what to make of it when they said it wasn’t an accident or an illness, but a police investigation was the last thing we expected.’ Kazuhiro’s speckled white eyebrows formed little inverted Vs above his eyes.
‘It’s not been officially ruled a homicide yet,’ Kusanagi said.
Kazuhiro frowned, the wrinkles running deep on his thin face. ‘That man had his share of enemies. Most capable businessmen do. Still, you’d like to think that people were a little more decent than that …’
Kazuhiro had been employed at a local credit union until his retirement five years earlier. He’d seen his share of businessmen in his day, and no doubt he knew the type.
‘I was wondering,’ Tokiko said, looking up. ‘How is Ayane doing? On the phone she says she’s fine, but then again, I’m sure she doesn’t want to worry us.’
‘Surprisingly well, actually. Of course, it was all a great shock,’ Kusanagi explained, ‘but throughout it all she’s been very helpful with our investigation.’
‘Well, then, that’s a relief.’ The woman’s worry that lingered in her face belied her words.
‘Ayane says she came home on Saturday? She told us that she had concerns about your health.’ Kusanagi fixed his gaze on Kazuhiro. The older man was thin, and a bit pale, but he didn’t seem to be suffering.
‘Yeah, my pancreas,’ the older man explained. ‘Got an inflammation about three years ago, and haven’t really felt right since. I get a fever sometimes, and some days my stomach and back hurt so much I can’t move. But I’ve been carrying on. That’s what you do, you know. Carry on.’
‘Did you need Ayane’s help for any specific reason this time?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Kazuhiro said with a glance towards his wife.
Tokiko shook her head. ‘She called us on Friday night. Said she’d be here the next day. She said she was worried about her father and she hadn’t visited us since getting married.’
‘Did she have any other reasons for her visit?’
‘Not that she told us.’
‘How long did she say she was going to stay?’
‘Well, she didn’t say anything in particular – when I asked her when she’d be going back to Tokyo, she told me she hadn’t decided yet.’
Kusanagi made a mental note: no urgent reason to rush home. So why had she gone to visit her parents? Nine times out of ten, when a married woman suddenly took a trip back home, it was because of marital troubles.
‘Er, Detective?’ Kazuhiro said a bit hesitantly. ‘You seem awfully interested in why Ayane came up to see us. Care to tell us why?’
Kusanagi smiled. The old banker’s still sharp. ‘If, in fact, Mr Mashiba’s death was a homicide, there’s a chance that the guilty party intentionally picked a time when Ayane wouldn’t be at home to strike.’ The detective spoke slowly and precisely. ‘If that is the case, then we have to ask how the guilty party knew where Ayane would be. That’s why I’m afraid we have to cover all the bases. Please understand, it’s all part of standard procedure.’
‘Is that so,’ Kazuhiro said, nodding. It was unclear whether he bought the detective’s story or not.
‘How did she spend her time when she was here?’ Kusanagi asked, looking at both parents.
‘She stayed at home the whole day on Saturday. At night, we went out to a local sushi place, just the three of us. One of her favourite places when she was growing up,’ Tokiko told him.
‘What’s the name of the restaurant?’
A suspicious look crossed Tokiko’s face, mirrored in the expression of her husband beside her.
‘Sorry.’ Kusanagi smiled again. ‘We don’t know what might become important as the investigation continues, so I need to take down every detail, no matter how trivial. We’d prefer not to have to make the trip up here again, if possible.’
Tokiko looked unsatisfied, but she still told him the name of the restaurant: ‘Lucky Sushi.’
‘And she went with a friend to a hot springs on Sunday?’
‘Yes, her friend Saki – they’ve been close since middle school. Her parents live not a five-minute walk away from here. Saki moved down to the south end of town when she got married, but Ayane gave her a call on Saturday night and the two went out – to Jozankei, I think it was.’
Kusanagi nodded, glancing at his notepad. Mamiya had previously got the name of the friend from Ayane: Sakiko Motooka. Utsumi was scheduled to pay her a visit on her way back from the springs.
‘You mentioned that this was Ayane’s first trip since her marriage. Did she happen to say anything about Mr Mash -iba while she was here?’
Tokiko cocked her head. ‘Just that he was busy as always with work, but still managed to find time to play golf. That sort of thing.’
‘Nothing about how things were going at home?’