Tomoya’s lips were dry. He licked them. The woman was disquietingly perceptive. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
“I’ve no real grounds for what I’m about to say. It’s just a feeling.”
“That’s not a problem.” Utsumi lifted her face. He noticed the gleam in her almond-shaped eyes.
Tomoya coughed once, then began to speak.
“I think it started in the autumn of the year Saori graduated high school. I remember her telling me about this creepy guy who’d started coming to Namiki-ya. He was always ogling her, getting her to pour his beer for him, stuff like that. Apparently, he used to come in late, which is why I hadn’t met him. Anyway, there was this one time when I did end up staying later than usual and he turned up. Just like Saori had told me, he made her fill his glass; he even tried to force her to sit down next to him. On that occasion, Saori managed to come up with some excuse and fled upstairs. It didn’t make any difference, though; the guy kept on coming to the restaurant after that. I was worried, but Saori told me everything was fine. In the end, her father threw the fellow out and he did stop coming. But...”
He hesitated.
“But what?” Utsumi had no intention of letting Tomoya off the hook.
“But Saori told me she used to bump into the guy in the street now and then. There were several occasions when suddenly he was right there, right next to her. One time, when he got too close, she just took off and ran.”
“Did he run after her?”
“I don’t know. Saori said she might be imagining things.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about this man? His name, perhaps? His job?”
Tomoya shook his head. “I don’t know anything about him. He was a Namiki-ya customer, but where he lived, I’ve no idea.”
“This is the first time you’ve mentioned him to the police?”
“Yes, it is. I mean... this happened a little while before Saori went missing. I didn’t speak to the police at the time and I didn’t make the connection right away. It was months later, as I was mulling things over, that it occurred to me that perhaps the guy had something to do with her disappearance...”
Utsumi sat in silence for a while, then she opened her bag.
“Is the man here?” she asked, arranging five photographs on the table. They all looked like pictures from driver’s licenses or mug shots.
Tomoya gave a start when he looked at the picture second from the end on the left. He remembered those sunken cheeks, those deep, dark eyes.
“This is him.” Tomoya jabbed a finger at the picture.
“Is it, now?” The woman’s expression was quite blank. With quick, deft movements, she replaced the photographs in her bag.
“I was right, then. It is him, isn’t it?” Tomoya said. “If you’re walking around with a picture of the guy, that’s got to mean the police have got their eye on him. Are you going to arrest him?”
Utsumi gave him a bland smile. “We’re pursuing multiple lines of inquiry. This man is by no means our only suspect.”
“Okay, but... can’t you at least tell me his name? Who is he?”
“I am very sorry, Mr. Takagaki. Sharing that information with you at this point wouldn’t help our investigation.”
“It wouldn’t hurt it, though, would it?”
“If you mentioned his name to someone else and the information got out there, there’s every chance that it could impact negatively on our investigation.”
“I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”
“It’s less risky if I simply don’t tell you. I hope you can understand our position on this.”
Tomoya bit his lip at the brush-off. He felt thwarted; at the same time, the detective had a valid point.
Utsumi looked down at her watch.
“You’ve been most helpful. I really appreciate it.” She rose to her feet and gave him a little nod of gratitude.
Tomoya accompanied her to the lobby to see her out, then returned to his desk. Concentrating on his work proved almost impossible. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he had his smartphone out and had started scouring the internet. Inputting “Saori Namiki” produced no results. That suggested that the police hadn’t yet released her name to the media.
Putting his phone aside, Tomoya leaned back in his chair and absentmindedly contemplated his desk. It was the same desk they had given him when he had joined the firm. The memories from that time came back to him.
April, five years ago. That was when he had first eaten his dinner at Namiki-ya. He lived with his mother, Rie, who was a nurse. She had had a night shift that night. She had always made Tomoya’s dinner before she headed out to the hospital, but now that he had a job of his own, Tomoya had decided that he ought to start feeding himself. Not only was Namiki-ya conveniently situated halfway between the station and his house, it looked like a nice place, and he had always fancied trying it out.
On the evening of the first visit, Saori was working at the restaurant. With her small face and big eyes, she looked more like a show business personality than a waitress and Tomoya couldn’t help noticing her. What he found most attractive about her was the expressiveness of her face. He was delighted when she treated him — a first-time visitor — with as much friendliness as a regular.
It didn’t take long for Tomoya to become a regular. In no time at all, he was going to Namiki-ya once a week. Even when his mother wasn’t on the night shift, he would text her to say that he was going to grab a bite on the way home from work and would go to Namiki-ya. Although the food was undeniably good, his real goal was to see Saori.
Tomoya was in no hurry to tell Saori how he felt about her. What guarantee was there that Saori felt the same way about him? As his visits to the restaurant became more frequent, he began to get the sense that she liked him; at the same time, he worried that he might be reading into the situation what he wanted to be true.
From listening to Saori’s mother chatting with the customers, he had learned that Saori didn’t have a boyfriend. He was also aware that there were quite a few people who went to the restaurant specifically to see her. The presence of other young male customers put him on edge, since he was convinced that they must have her in their sights, too. The fact that Saori was equally nice to all of them made him uneasy.
Before Tomoya knew it, almost a year had gone by. One evening in March, he deliberately went to Namiki-ya at a time when he knew it would be empty and presented Saori with a gift “to celebrate her graduation.” It was a golden hair slide in the shape of a butterfly.
Saori’s eyes lit up and she immediately put it on. Since there was no mirror at hand, Tomoya took a picture of the back of her head with his phone to show her what the slide looked like.
“Oh, it’s so cute!” Saori gushed when she saw it. Tomoya was sure her reaction was genuine. “I want to go out with this on just as soon as I can. Where shall I go?” she said, tugging at the clasp. She looked straight at Tomoya. “What about you, Mr. Takagaki? Will you take me out somewhere?”
Tomoya was shocked. That was the last thing he had expected her to say.
“Uhm, shall we go and see a movie?”
Saori was less than delighted with Tomoya’s hasty suggestion. What would be the point of going somewhere dark?
That was how they ended up going to Tokyo Disneyland for their first date. Every time Saori came across a mirror, she would turn around and look at her reflection with the hair slide and comment on how nice it looked.