Kusanagi shook his head. ‘Nothing like that. We just need to know as much as possible about the victim.’
Ikai chuckled and waved a hand. ‘If you’re thinking that Mashiba might’ve invited his ex-girlfriend over, I’d say you’re barking up the wrong tree. I can say with total confidence that that’s not his style. Not at all.’
‘Because he never smoked two cigarettes at the same time, was it?’
‘Precisely.’ Ikai nodded.
‘I’ll take that into consideration.’ Kusanagi glanced at his watch, then rose to his feet. ‘Thanks for your time.’
Kusanagi was headed for the exit; but Ikai hurried past him, opened the door, and stood waiting beside it.
‘Er … Thanks.’
‘Detective Kusanagi,’ Ikai said, a serious look in his eyes. ‘I don’t mean to comment on the way you’re conducting your investigation, but there is one request I’d like to make if possible.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Mashiba didn’t exactly lead the life of a saint. Keep looking under stones and you’re sure to find some dirt. But if you want my opinion, I don’t think his death the other day has anything to do with his past. If you can, I’d rather you didn’t dig too deeply. It’s a sensitive time for the company.’
Worried about the company’s public image? ‘Even if we do dig something up, I promise we won’t go telling it to the press,’ Kusanagi said, then slipped out of the door.
He headed for the elevators, a sense of vague disgust towards the deceased growing inside him. So women were nothing more to him than baby factories! He was surprised at his own anger.
What if Mashiba had applied the same kind of thinking to everyone in his life? Were employees nothing more to him than gears to keep his company moving, consumers no more than targets for exploitation? It was easy to imagine how many casualties the man had left by the side of the road during his lifetime. It certainly wouldn’t be surprising if more than one person wanted him dead.
Of course, Hiromi Wakayama wasn’t entirely free from suspicion yet – though Ayane did have a point: there seemed to be no motive for her to kill the father of her unborn child. Yet based on what Kusanagi had just heard, it seemed dangerous to assume anything when it came to women and Yoshitaka Mashiba. The deceased intended to leave his wife and go to Hiromi, but only because she was pregnant, not necessarily because he loved her. Who knew what kind of selfish proposal he might’ve made to the girl and earned her hatred?
Still, as Utsumi had pointed out, it wouldn’t make much sense for the first one on the scene to leave traces of poison lying around if she had actually committed the murder. Kusanagi had no rebuttal to that argument; ‘maybe she just forgot’ wasn’t going to fly.
The detective decided to see what he could discover about the woman Mashiba was dating before he met Ayane. As he left the building, Kusanagi was contemplating where to begin.
Ayane Mashiba’s eyes went wide. Kusanagi detected the wave of surprise in her pupils.
‘His ex-girlfriend?’
‘Another sensitive subject, I know.’ The detective bowed his head apologetically.
The two sat in the lounge of the hotel where Ayane was staying. Kusanagi had called her to arrange the meeting.
‘Does that have something to do with your inves -tigation?’
‘Well – we can’t say for certain yet. But because there’s a very high likelihood your husband was murdered, we need to track down everyone with a probable motive. We’re just covering all the bases.’
The rigid line of Ayane’s lips softened and a lonely smile came to her face. ‘Well, knowing my husband, I’m sure that the end of her relationship with him was as abrupt and inconsiderate as the end of mine.’
‘Er …’ Kusanagi hesitated. ‘It’s our understanding that your husband was … primarily searching for a woman to bear him children. Men like this have a tendency to focus too much on the goal at the expense of the partner. We wondered if a previous partner who’d also been spurned might still bear him some ill will.’
‘Like I do?’
‘I wasn’t suggesting that—’
‘No, it’s all right.’ Ayane took a careful breath. ‘What was the lady detective’s name? Ms Utsumi? I’m sure you heard from her that Hiromi was successful in fulfilling my late husband’s “goal”, as you put it. That’s why he chose her, and discarded me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t bear him ill will because of that.’
‘But it would have been impossible for you to commit the crime.’
‘You sound so sure.’
‘Nothing’s been found in any of the plastic water bottles, so it seems most likely that the poison was put directly into the water in the kettle. You couldn’t have done that. So … the only possible answer is that someone came over on Sunday and put the poison in the kettle. It’s unlikely that they entered without your husband’s knowledge, so we can assume whoever it was came by invitation. We checked his work contacts, and found no likely leads there. That leaves someone close to your husband, whom he invited over in secret – which suggests a very specific sort of relationship.’
‘A lover or former lover?’ She brushed aside her fringe. ‘Well, I’d love to help you, but I’m afraid he never spoke about such things to me. Not even once.’
‘Not even a suggestion? No detail is too small, Mrs Mashiba.’
She shrugged. ‘He wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his past. He was very circumspect in that regard. He even made a point of never going to any restaurants or bars he had frequented with previous girlfriends.’
‘I see,’ Kusanagi said, frowning inwardly. He’d been planning on following up by asking around at the restaurants the Mashibas had frequented.
Yoshitaka Mashiba certainly was a cautious man. They hadn’t caught so much as the scent of a woman other than Hiromi from any of the personal effects he’d left behind at his home and office. All of the numbers on his mobile phone were either work contacts or male friends. He hadn’t even entered Hiromi’s number.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.’
‘There’s no need to apologize.’
‘But—’ Ayane broke off her next sentence when her phone rang in her handbag. She quickly took it out, then hesitated.
‘Do you mind if I answer it?’
‘Of course not,’ Kusanagi said.
‘Hello? Ayane speaking.’
She began the conversation calmly, but a moment later, her eyebrows twitched and she glanced tensely at Kusanagi. ‘Of course, I don’t mind. But what are you – oh, I see. All right. Thank you.’ She hung up the phone, then put her hand to her mouth, her lips forming an oh. ‘Maybe I should have mentioned you were here?’
‘Who was it?’
‘Detective Utsumi.’
‘What did she have to say?’
‘That she wanted to examine the kitchen again, and wondered if it would be all right to go inside the house. She said she wouldn’t be long.’
‘Reexamining the kitchen? What’s she up to?’ Kusanagi muttered, giving his chin a scratch.
‘Perhaps finding another way the poison could have got into the coffee?’
‘That would be the most obvious answer.’ Kusanagi looked at his watch, then reached for the bill on the table. ‘I think I’ll join her, if you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all,’ Ayane said. Then she looked up. ‘Actually, I have a request.’
‘Yes?’
‘I know this isn’t really your job as a detective, but …’
‘Don’t worry about that. What is it?’
She smiled. ‘I was just thinking that it’s time to water the flowers at home. When I left, I assumed I would only be here for a day or two at most.’