‘Still chasing after that picture book illustrator?’ Kishitani asked. ‘What’s up this time?’
‘I’ve already got the chief’s okay on this, so stop whining and get on the phone,’ Kusanagi growled. He disconnected and hailed a cab. ‘Meguro Police Station!’ he told the driver.
As the taxi sped down the road, Kusanagi contemplated the situation. They had spent far too many days on the Mashiba case already. Their inability to determine the entry point of the poison was one reason, and the lack of suspects with a convincing motive was another. The only person with a real motive was Ayane, and she had the perfect alibi.
So, two days ago, Kusanagi had told the chief he was convinced that someone else must have come to the Mashiba residence the day he died. It was then Kusanagi had asked for permission to investigate further into the dead executive’s most recent ex-girlfriend.
‘But isn’t she already dead?’ Mamiya asked.
‘Yeah, that’s why I want to know more,’ Kusanagi told him. ‘If Yoshitaka Mashiba was the cause of her suicide, it would give anyone close to Junko Tsukui a motive.’
‘You’re talking about revenge? I dunno, it’s been two years since she killed herself. If this was revenge, what took them so long?’
‘I can’t say. Maybe they waited until everyone forgot about the suicide, so no one would make the connection?’
‘If that’s true, then our killer is awfully patient, Kusanagi. It’s not everyone that can, for two years, hold onto enough hatred to kill a man.’
Though Mamiya didn’t look very convinced, he gave his permission to look into the suicide case, and Kusanagi had wasted no time. The editor of It Can Rain Tomorrow had given him the home phone number of Junko’s family, which led to a string of phone calls to them and to every associate who had received one of her suicide letters.
Yet no one he talked to had said so much as a word connecting Yoshitaka Mashiba to her suicide. In fact, hardly anyone even knew she’d been dating anyone. According to her mother, there were no signs that a man had ever visited Junko’s apartment, and she didn’t think a romantic entanglement had anything to do with her daughter’s suicide. It had been three years since Mashiba and Junko were spotted at the tea room. If they had broken up soon after, then maybe Junko’s suicide a year later really didn’t have anything to do with him.
Even if it did, however, if no one knew that, then no one would have reason to seek revenge against the businessman. Despite getting the go-ahead from Mamiya, Kusanagi felt like his investigation had fallen flat just out of the gate.
Until he heard about the poison.
If he’d requested the case file from the officers who handled the Tsukiu death in the first place, he might have discovered the connection before now; but after calling and hearing her mother’s tearful story, Kusanagi had cut corners. After all, if the officers on the case had been comfortable calling it a suicide, what else was there to know?
But arsenous acid –
There was always the possibility it was sheer coincidence. After the news story about the curry poisoning incident, the effectiveness of the poison became public knowledge, which would, of course, lead people considering suicide or murder to try it.
But for a man to die by the same poison his ex-girlfriend used to commit suicide – that was a little too much coincidence for Kusanagi.
While the detective was pondering the possibilities, his phone rang. It was Yukawa.
‘You again? You must be going head to head with every high school girl in the country in terms of your phone bill this month.’
‘When you have something you want to say, it can’t be helped,’ Yukawa noted sagely. ‘Can you meet today?’
‘I can, but what’s this about? You finally figure out how the poison got into the coffee?’
‘Not exactly “figured out”. Let’s say I found a possible method, instead.’
Even while he rolled his eyes at the professor’s painstaking way of talking, Kusanagi’s grip tightened on his phone. When Yukawa started talking possibilities, it usually meant a solution was just around the corner.
‘Did you tell Utsumi?’
‘No, not yet. And, to be honest, I’m not ready to tell you either. So don’t get all excited about meeting me, because you’ll only be disappointed.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? Why do you want to meet, then?’
‘I have a request concerning the investigation. I need to see if all of the conditions were in place for our killer to pull off the particular trick I have in mind.’
‘So you won’t tell me what this latest trick is, but you want me to share information with you? I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you do know that talking about the details of an investigation with civilians is officially taboo.’
After several seconds of silence, Yukawa replied. ‘I’m surprised to hear you, of all people, saying that. But no matter. There’s a reason why I can’t tell you about the trick. I’ll explain in person.’
‘See, when you put it like that, I think you’re just leading me on. Anyway, I have to go to the Meguro station right now. I’ll stop by the university afterwards. Should be about eight o’clock.’
‘Then give me a ring when you get here. I might not be in the lab.’
‘Right.’ Kusanagi hung up, suddenly feeling tension mounting in the pit of his stomach.
He wanted to know what trick Yukawa had discovered, though he knew that guessing it was likely impossible. What worried him most was how the explanation might affect where Ayane stood on their roster of suspects.
If Yukawa’s trick breaks her ironclad alibi …
There will be no way out, the detective thought – meaning not Ayane, but rather, no way out for himself. Kusanagi would be forced to suspect her. Usually, the prospect of an elucidating lecture from Yukawa was reason for excitement. Today, however, it just brought Kusanagi more distress.
Kishitani was standing in the Meguro Police Station, a fax in his hand – details on Junko Tsukui’s suicide. Mamiya was standing next to him.
‘Now I know why you wanted more info,’ Kishitani said, holding up the paper.
Kusanagi ran his eyes down the report. Tsukui had been found in her bed at her apartment. On the table next to her was a glass half full of water and a small plastic bag of white powder. The powder was oxidized arsenic, a.k.a. arsenous acid.
‘Nothing here about how she got the poison. They didn’t figure it out?’ Kusanagi muttered.
‘They probably didn’t look into it,’ Mamiya said. ‘There was no reason to suspect murder. And arsenous acid isn’t all that hard to come by. They probably thought it would be a waste of time.’
‘Still, it’s pretty significant that Mashiba’s ex killed herself with the same kind of poison that killed him. Not bad, Kusanagi,’ Kishitani said, his excitement palpable.
‘Did they keep the poison as evidence, by any chance?’ Kusanagi asked.
‘We checked into it, but no luck. It was two years ago, after all,’ Mamiya said with a frown. There was no chance to compare the poison used in each case to see if both samples came from the same source.
‘And they told the family about the poison?’ Kusanagi asked no one in particular.
‘What do you mean?’ Mamiya asked.
‘Tsukui’s mother told me she had died from a sleeping pill overdose. I was wondering why she thought that.’
‘Maybe she just got the wrong idea somehow?’
‘It’s possible …’ Kusanagi said. But he doubted that a mother would forget how her own daughter killed herself.