‘Oh … h-hello.’
‘Poor dear.’ Yukiko sighed. ‘You’ve had a rough time. With the police asking you all those questions …’ Though her expression was one of genuine concern, Hiromi detected a glimmer of curiosity in the woman’s eyes.
‘It’s over now,’ Hiromi told her.
‘You have to wonder what those detectives are doing, anyway. I hear they don’t even have a suspect yet.’
‘I know,’ Hiromi agreed.
‘My husband was saying he hoped they solved the case quickly, before the company’s clients start worrying. I hear Ayane’s not going back home until they figure it all out – which I completely understand, by the way. Talk about creepy.’
Hiromi nodded and mumbled agreement.
‘Hey,’ said Tatsuhiko Ikai, walking towards them. ‘What are you two doing out here? There’s food and drink in the guest hall.’
‘Oh?’ his wife replied. ‘Well, Hiromi, shall we?’
‘No, I think I’m fine, thanks.’
‘You should come! You’ll be waiting for Ayane anyway, won’t you? With all those people in there, she won’t be getting out for a while.’
‘No,’ Hiromi insisted, ‘actually, I’m leaving early today.’
‘Oh, you should come, just for a little while. Keep me company.’
‘Don’t be so pushy,’ Mr Ikai said, frowning. ‘Other people have lives, too, you know.’
Something in the way he said ‘lives’ sent a chill down Hiromi’s spine. Ikai stared coolly at her for a moment before looking away.
‘I’m sorry. Maybe next time … Excuse me.’ Hiromi nodded to the couple and turned to leave without looking up. He knows about me and Yoshitaka, she thought. Ayane wouldn’t have told him. Maybe he heard it from the police? She guessed that he hadn’t told Yukiko, at least. What must he think of me?
Hiromi’s thoughts churned. What was going to happen to her? People were bound to learn the truth about her and Yoshitaka eventually. And once they did, she couldn’t remain so close to Ayane. She would eventually have to distance herself from the social circle that had once included the Mashibas.
I doubt she’s really forgiven me, anyway. She probably never will.
The look Ayane had given her by the altar was seared into her memory. She regretted putting her hands over her mouth when she went up to offer her flowers. Of course Ayane knew what that meant. Why else would she ask if I was okay?
If she and Mashiba had merely had a fling, maybe Ayane could have forgiven her. Dirty water under the bridge. But a pregnancy changed all of that.
Sure, her boss probably suspected the truth; but suspecting something and hearing it from your husband’s lover’s mouth were two different things. It had already been several days since Hiromi admitted she was pregnant in front of Detective Utsumi. Since then, Ayane hadn’t spoken a word about it. Her feelings towards me must’ve changed since that time in the hotel room, Hiromi thought, but she wasn’t sure exactly how.
Thinking about the future made her head swim. What do I do?
She knew she should have an abortion. What kind of home could she provide for the child? The father was already dead, and Hiromi was on the brink of losing her job. She doubted that Ayane would give her any more work if she chose to keep the child.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t have a choice – and yet it seemed an impossible decision to make. Maybe it was the love she still felt for Yoshitaka that made her unwilling to let go of this last remnant of him. Maybe it was something more primal, a female need to bear a child. She wasn’t sure.
Either way, there wasn’t much time. She had at most two weeks left to decide.
She was walking away from the funeral hall, looking for a taxi, when she heard a voice call out, ‘Ms Wakayama?’
She looked over her shoulder and frowned. Detective Kusanagi was making his way down the pavement towards her.
‘I was looking for you – are you headed home?’
‘Yes. I’m a bit tired.’
Hiromi figured the man must know about her pregnancy by now. She considered telling him to leave her alone, so as not to place undue strain on her at such a delicate time.
‘I know you’re tired, and I’m really sorry, but I was hoping for a word or two? It will only take a few minutes, I promise.’
Hiromi stopped trying to hide her displeasure. ‘Now? Must you?’
‘Yes. I’m really sorry.’
‘Do I have to go to the station again?’
‘No, any place we can talk quietly is fine.’ Without waiting for her to answer, the detective hailed a cab.
Kusanagi told the driver to take them to a restaurant near Hiromi’s apartment. Maybe he really will let me go soon, she thought with relief.
They took a table at the back of the nearly empty restaurant.
Tea and coffee were self-service at this place, and Hiromi, not wanting to get up, ordered milk. Kusanagi ordered hot cocoa.
‘Luckily, these places are mostly nonsmoking these days. I thought that might be better for you,’ the detective said with a pleasant smile.
Hiromi was sure the comment was made to indicate that he knew about her condition; but despite his discretion, her own inner debate about the pregnancy made the remark feel harsh and insensitive.
‘What did you want to ask me?’ she said, looking down at the table.
‘Of course, you’re tired. I’ll skip the small talk.’ Kusanagi leaned forward. ‘I want to know about Yoshitaka Mashiba’s female relations.’
Hiromi looked up. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Well … was he seeing any other women? Other than you, I mean?’
Hiromi straightened in her chair and blinked. She felt her head spinning. ‘Why would you ask me that?’
‘Was there another woman?’
‘Are you asking me because you heard there was?’ Hiromi countered, her voice sharp.
Kusanagi smiled wanly and waved a hand. ‘No, we haven’t heard anything concrete. It just seemed like a possibility, which is why I wanted to ask you.’
‘Then I’m sorry but I don’t know. And I don’t know why you’d think there was someone else.’
Kusanagi’s smile faded and he clasped his hands together, resting them on the table. ‘As you know,’ he said, ‘Mr Mashiba was poisoned. From the specific circumstances of the poisoning, the killer had to be someone who had access to the Mashiba house on the day he died. That makes you the prime suspect.’
‘I’ve already told you, I didn’t—’
‘I understand,’ Kusanagi cut her off. ‘But if it wasn’t you, then who else? Who else had access to the house? We’ve looked into Mr Mashiba’s work connections and his private life, and haven’t found a single likely person. This leads us to think that there might’ve been someone – someone else – with whom Mr Mashiba had a secret relationship.’
Hiromi finally understood what the detective was driving at, but she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. The whole idea was completely ridiculous.
‘Detective, I think you have him all wrong. He may have done and said some outrageous things, and he did have a relationship with me, so I can understand why you might suspect him of being less than morally upright – but he was no playboy. He was very serious about his relationships, including with me.’
Hiromi had intended to sound strong and decisive, to put the detective in his place, but Kusanagi’s expression barely changed.
‘So you didn’t suspect the presence of any other woman in his life?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘What about any ex-girlfriends? Do you know anything about them?’
‘Ex-girlfriends? You mean people he saw before getting married? I know there were a few, but he never talked much about them.’
‘Do you remember anything at all? About what they did for work, or where he met them?’
Hiromi frowned, sifting back through her memories. Yoshitaka had said a few things about the women he used to see – and one or two of them still lingered in her mind.
‘He did say something about being with a woman in publishing once.’
‘Publishing? Like, an editor?’
‘No. A writer, I think.’
‘A novelist? Something like that?’
Hiromi shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. All he said was that whenever she put out a book, he would always have to give her his opinion, and he couldn’t stand doing that. I asked him what kind of books they were, but he avoided the topic. He didn’t like talking about his exes, so I didn’t push him on it.’
‘Anything else?’
‘He did say he was never drawn to prostitutes or performers. He didn’t like those matchmaking parties where the organizers would slip in a few models to drum up interest. That was a turnoff for him.’
‘But he met his wife at a party like that?’
‘So I hear,’ Hiromi said, lowering her eyes.
‘Did you ever get the sense that he was still in contact with any of his exes?’
‘Not as far as I was aware.’ Hiromi looked up at the detective. ‘Do you think some old flame might’ve killed him?’
‘It’s a possibility, which is why I’d like you to try and remember anything you can. Men tend to be less guarded about their relationships than women. Perhaps he let something slip in the middle of some other con -versation?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Hiromi said, pulling her cup of milk towards her. ‘I don’t remember much else.’ She took a sip, wishing she had got tea instead. Picking up a napkin to wipe her lips seemed an impossibly onerous task.
Then an old memory surfaced, and she met the detective’s stare.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Yoshitaka always drank coffee, but he was very knowledgeable about tea, too. I asked him about it once, and he said it was because of one of his exes. She was a real tea lover, and always bought her tea from the same store. A speciality place in Nihonbashi, I’m pretty sure.’
Kusanagi scribbled a note on his memo pad. ‘Do you remember the name of the store?’
‘No. Sorry. He might not even have told me.’
‘A tea speciality store, then,’ Kusanagi muttered, frowning slightly.
‘I’m sorry I can’t give you more.’
‘Not at all.’ Kusanagi smiled again. ‘This is quite a lot to go on, actually. We asked Mrs Mashiba the same questions and didn’t get anything from her. Maybe he felt more comfortable talking with you than with his actual wife.’
The detective’s comment irritated Hiromi. Maybe he’d intended to be comforting, but he was an idiot if he thought it could possibly make her feel better.
‘Are we done here?’ she asked. ‘I’d really like to go home.’
‘Yes. Yes, and thank you for your time. If you remember anything else that might help, please don’t hesitate to call.’
‘I’ll be sure to,’ Hiromi said.
‘Right. I’ll see you home.’
‘It’s okay. I can walk from here.’
Hiromi stood, leaving the bill on the table, not even bothering to thank him for the milk.