‘No, not at all. I just wanted to confirm what Ms Wakayama told us yesterday.’
Ayane buried her face in her hands. ‘I just can’t believe it. He was fine, in perfect health. We just had some friends over on Friday night. He was … he was so happy.’ Her voice was trembling.
‘I know it’s hard,’ Kusanagi said as gently as possible. ‘And I’m sorry I have to ask these questions, but – this party on Friday … who were the friends?’
‘A college friend of my husband’s and his wife.’ She gave him the names of Tatsuhiko and Yukiko Ikai. Then, Ayane let her hands drop into her lap, a look of determination on her face. ‘I have a request.’
‘Sure,’ Kusanagi said. ‘Anything.’
‘Do we have to go straight to the Police Station?’
‘Is there something you need to do?’
‘I want to see the house first, if I can. I want to know where he was when … I want to know how he died. If that’s okay?’
Kusanagi glanced at Utsumi again. This time, their eyes didn’t meet. The junior detective seemed focused intently on the road ahead.
‘I’ll have to ask the lead detective on the case,’ Kusanagi said, fishing his mobile phone out of his pocket.
Mamiya answered, and Kusanagi relayed the request. He heard the chief groan for a moment, then: ‘Fine …
‘In fact, the situation’s changed a little bit. It might even be preferable to talk to her on site. We’ll see you at the house.’
‘How has the situation changed?’ Kusanagi asked.
A pause. ‘I’ll fill you in later.’
‘Right.’ Kusanagi ended the call and turned back to look at Ayane. ‘We’ll be taking you home.’
Under her breath, she said: ‘Thank you.’
Kusanagi returned his gaze to the road. A moment later he heard Ayane calling someone on her mobile.
‘Hello, Hiromi? It’s me.’
Kusanagi tensed. He hadn’t expected her to call anyone, much less Ms Wakayama – but he couldn’t just tell her to hang up.
‘… I know, I know,’ Ayane was saying. ‘I’m with the police now. We’re heading to the house. Oh, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Hiromi.’
Kusanagi’s mind was racing as fast as his heart. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine how Ms Wakayama was responding to the call. He envisioned her overcome with grief at losing her lover, perhaps even spilling the beans. If that were the case, he had a pretty good idea of how Ayane would react.
‘… That’s what they tell me. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re eating … Well, that’s good. You know, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could come over? I’d really like to talk.’
Kusanagi hadn’t expected her to invite Ms Wakayama to the house, either. From this half of the conversation, it sounded like the younger woman was keeping her com -posure.
‘You’re sure it’s all right? Okay, see you soon … Yes, thanks. You take care of yourself, too.’ It sounded like the call was over. Kusanagi heard a sniffle from the back seat.
‘Will Ms Wakayama be joining us?’
‘Yes. Oh! I hope that’s all right?’
‘It’s fine. She was the one who found him, it might be best if you heard it straight from her,’ the detective said, inwardly growing excited. On the one hand, he was interested, out of pure curiosity, to see how the husband’s lover would go about describing the discovery of his body to the wife. On the other, he hoped that by carefully observing Ayane, he’d be able to determine whether she had known about her husband’s infidelity.
They got off the highway onto the local road as they neared the Mashiba residence. Utsumi seemed to know the way without checking – maybe she had committed it to memory.
They arrived at the house to find Chief Mamiya waiting for them. He was standing with Kishitani in front of the gate.
They got out of the car and walked over to the other two detectives, and Kusanagi introduced Ayane.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Mamiya told her. He turned to Kusanagi. ‘You’ve told her the particulars?’
‘For the most part.’
Mamiya gave Ayane a sympathetic look. ‘As you might expect, we have a lot of questions we’d like to ask. I’m so sorry to put you through this just as you’ve returned home.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘We should go inside. Kishitani, the key.’
Kishitani pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to Ayane, who accepted it with a perplexed frown.
She used the key to unlock the door, opened it, and stepped in. The others followed, with Kusanagi bringing up the rear, the widow’s suitcase in one hand.
Inside, Ayane asked: ‘Where was he?’
‘This way,’ Mamiya said, walking down the hallway.
The tape was still stuck to the floor in the living room. Ayane saw the outline and stopped, her hand over her mouth.
‘According to Ms Wakayama, he was lying here, on the floor when she came in,’ Mamiya explained.
Ayane shook, then her legs buckled and she fell to her knees. Kusanagi saw her shoulders trembling, and a quick hiccuplike sob escaped her lips. She caught her breath and asked in a thin voice: ‘Around what time was it?’
‘Near eight when she found him,’ Mamiya answered.
‘Eight … What could he have been doing?’
‘Apparently, he was drinking coffee. We’ve cleaned it up, but there was a coffee cup on the floor, and a little coffee had spilled.’
‘Coffee …’ She looked up. ‘Did he make it himself?’
‘Excuse me?’ Kusanagi asked.
Ayane shook her head. ‘It’s just, he doesn’t do that. I’ve never seen him make his own coffee.’
Kusanagi noticed Mamiya’s eyebrows twitch.
‘He never made coffee?’ the chief asked.
‘Well, I know he used to before we got married. But he had a coffeemaker back then.’
‘And you don’t have one now?’
‘No. I didn’t need it so I threw it out. I use a single-cup dripper.’
A hard light came into Mamiya’s eyes. He spoke: ‘Ma’am, I can’t say anything for sure without the autopsy results, but it’s likely that your husband was poisoned.’
Ayane’s face went blank for a moment, then her eyes opened wide. ‘Poison? Like, food poisoning?’
‘No. A very potent poison was discovered in the coffee found at the scene – though we don’t yet know exactly what kind of poison it was. Which is to say that your husband’s death was not due to illness or a simple accident.’
Ayane covered her mouth again, blinking repeatedly. Her eyes were growing redder by the moment.
‘Why would he … How could that happen?’
‘We don’t know. Which is why I wanted to ask if you had any ideas.’
This, apparently, was what Mamiya had been talking about when he’d said that the situation had changed, Kusanagi thought. Now it made sense that the chief had showed up in person.
Ayane pressed her fingers to her forehead and sat down on the nearest sofa. ‘No. No idea at all.’
‘When was the last time you spoke with your husband?’ Mamiya asked.
‘On Saturday morning. We left the house together on my way to the airport.’
‘Was there anything unusual about him, or his behaviour, at that time? Even the smallest details can help.’
Ayane sat still for a moment, as though searching inwardly; then she firmly shook her head. ‘No. I can’t think of anything.’
No wonder, Kusanagi thought. Having to bear the shock of her husband’s death, knowing only that he’d died under suspicious circumstances – and then to learn that he’d been poisoned …
‘Maybe we should let her rest a bit, Chief,’ Kusanagi said. ‘She’s probably tired after the trip from Sapporo.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’