‘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.
FOURTEEN
Steam poured from the mouth of the kettle. In sullen silence, Yukawa lifted it and emptied the boiling water into the sink. Then he took off the lid and, after removing his glasses so they wouldn’t fog, peeked inside.
‘How does it look?’ Utsumi asked.
Yukawa replaced the kettle on the burner and slowly shook his head. ‘No good. Exactly the same as last time.’
‘The gelatin?’
‘Still there.’
The physicist pulled up a metal folding chair and sat down. Linking his hands behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. Instead of his white lab coat, he was sporting a black, short-sleeved T-shirt revealing slender but well-muscled arms.
Utsumi had come to visit him at the laboratory to watch him try to mix poison into the kettle using the trick he had come up with the other day. So far, the results were less than impressive. In order for the trick to work, he would have to use the kettle twice without melting the gelatin and allowing the poison to mix with the water. This required a thick layer of gelatin. But when he layered on a sufficient amount, the gelatin would fail to completely melt, leaving traces inside the kettle. Traces of the sort that had not been found by the Forensics investigation.
‘I guess it wasn’t gelatin,’ Yukawa said, scratching his head with both hands.
‘Forensics said the same thing,’ Utsumi said. ‘They were of the opinion that even if the gelatin melted completely, it would still leave a small amount on the inside of the kettle. Also, no traces of gelatin were found in the used coffee grounds. At least Forensics liked your idea, though. They tried several other materials.’
‘I’m guessing they tried wafers, then?’ Yukawa asked.
‘The ones for taking powdered medicine? Yes. Wafers leave a trace of flour in the grounds.’
‘Oh well, strike two,’ Yukawa said, giving his knees a slap and standing. ‘Unfortunately, it looks like we have to abandon this line of inquiry.’
‘It was a fantastic idea,’ Utsumi offered.
‘Even if all it accomplished was wiping that smirk off Detective Kusanagi’s face for a little while.’ Yukawa retrieved his lab coat from the back of the chair and put it on. ‘What’s the good detective up to, incidentally?’
‘Looking into Mr Mashiba’s past relationships.’
‘Ah, yes. Following through on his hunch, then. That might just turn out to be the best course to take, now that the kettle’s proved to be a dead end.’
‘Do you think some ex-lover killed Mr Mashiba?’
‘Lover or fighter, the most logical explanation remaining is that our killer waited until Ms Wakayama left on Sunday morning, entered the Mashiba residence by some means, and put poison in that kettle.’
‘So you’re giving up.’
‘I wouldn’t call it that. I would call it a consistent application of the process of elimination. Kusanagi may be smitten with Mrs Mashiba, but that doesn’t mean he’s blind to the basic facts. The direction he’s taking this investigation in makes a good deal of sense, if you ask me.’ Yukawa sat back down and crossed his legs. ‘The poison – arsenous acid, was it? Can’t you identify the killer by tracing sales records?’
‘That’s proving difficult. Producing and selling arsenous acid as a pesticide was, for the most part, stopped about fifty years ago, but it is still being used elsewhere for some rather surprising things.’
‘Such as?’
Utsumi opened her notepad. ‘Well, there’s pest control – that one’s pretty obvious. Then there’s wood treatments to prevent rotting, medicine used in dentistry, semiconductor manufacturing … that’s about it.’
‘Dentistry! Now that is surprising.’
‘They use it to kill nerve endings in the teeth. But the chemical is in a paste form, which is then dissolved in water, leaving only about a forty percent concentration of arsenous acid. It’s not likely to be the substance used in this case.’
‘So what is likely?’
‘An exterminator would have access to arsenous acid in sufficient concentrations. They use it to control termites, mainly. You have to write down your address and name whenever you purchase it, so we’re checking into that. Of course, merchants are only required to keep those records for five years, so if the poison was purchased before then, we’re out of luck. We’re equally out of luck if the killer obtained the arsenous acid illegally.’