“You think there’s something behind their alibis?”
Yukawa grunted and tipped his head pensively to one side. “At present, I really can’t say — hence my saying that I don’t know.” He picked up his fork and started to eat his salad.
Kusanagi pondered the implications of the physicist’s gnomic remark. He was about to finish the remains of his sandwich, when his phone started buzzing. He glanced at the screen; it was Inspector Muto.
He stood up and walked over to a corner of the café to take the call. “Kusanagi here.”
“Muto. Can you talk?”
“Yes. What’s up?”
“We’ve got partial results from the autopsy. They haven’t yet managed to identify the cause of death, but they have found petechiae on the body.”
“Petechiae... Meaning there’s a strong possibility of asphyxiation?”
When a person experiences breathing difficulties, the movement of the diaphragm affects the heart, which in turn chokes off the blood flow. With nowhere to go, the blood in the veins breaks through the capillaries and leaks out into the skin. The process is known as extravasation of the blood, while the visible clusters of spots are called petechiae.
“Correct. The petechiae aren’t pronounced enough for manual strangulation or ligature strangulation. And there aren’t any marks where the throat was compressed. There are no abnormalities in the bones or joints of the neck, either.”
“Hmm. That’s unusual.”
“There was one more thing. Some of the blood work came back. They found some of the ingredients of sleeping medication.”
Kusanagi’s grip on his phone tightened. “Are they sure about that?”
“Apparently, yes. And no sleeping medication was found among Hasunuma’s personal effects.”
Kusanagi exhaled loudly and made an effort to tamp down his excitement. “Was it a normal sedative, or could it have been some kind of poison?”
“No, they don’t think so.”
“Okay. And so what’s next?”
“The precinct commander and the head of CID are currently having a meeting. I think they’ll probably call in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.”
“Great. Thanks for letting me know. I will drop by the station later.”
Kusanagi ended the call and returned to the table. Yukawa, who had finished his food, was drinking his coffee.
Kusanagi summarized what Muto had said. Amazingly, the professor was unfamiliar with the term petechiae.
“So can we sum it up like this, then?” said Yukawa. “Someone induced sleep in Hasunuma by getting him to ingest a sedative and then asphyxiated him somehow.”
“Sounds about right. It’s the ‘how’ that’s the problem. Even if he’d been given a regular sleeping pill, he’d have woken up if he was having trouble breathing. If anyone had been physically covering his nose and mouth, he’d have fought back.”
“How about if his wrists and ankles were tied? If he’d been restrained not with rope, but with gum tape wound around his clothes, that wouldn’t have left any marks on his skin.”
“If he was thrashing around like crazy, his clothing would have left abrasion marks. The medical examiner wouldn’t miss something like that,” Kusanagi said.
“When you put it like that, I have to agree with you,” Yukawa said, backing down, not something he often did. “In that case, it’s the killing method that is the big problem. Do tell me if you manage to figure out how he was asphyxiated.”
Kusanagi pointed at Yukawa with his fork. “When it comes to unraveling impossible crimes, you’re the master. It’s time for Detective Galileo to stand up.”
Kusanagi was expecting Yukawa to pull a sour face and turn him down flat. To his surprise, he complied meekly.
“Why not? Let me think about it when I have the time.”
Kusanagi stared at Yukawa in astonishment.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Yukawa asked.
“No, nothing. Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll need to see the crime scene. Can you arrange that?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll take you as soon as the local police have filed an official request for TMPD support and my team is put in charge.”
“Great. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Yukawa looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. Do you mind?” He picked up the check.
“Hang on. I said I was paying.”
“I got a lot more information from you than you got from me. And besides, you paid last time. I like to keep my accounts in balance. I’ll see you.”
Yukawa lifted the hand with the bill in a gesture of farewell and headed for the cash register.
Kusanagi remembered his friend’s words as he watched him go. We have a man on a murder charge who’s been released because of insufficient evidence, who then dies mysteriously during a parade that’s held only once a year. We have the family of the murder victim, each with fortuitous, ironclad alibis. I’m not able to ascribe all that to coincidence.
From Kusanagi’s point of view, there was one more coincidence at play: the fact that Yukawa got himself involved.
18
He realized that his fingers had stopped moving and he was just staring at the computer monitor. The deadline was tomorrow and he wasn’t making any headway at all. When he glanced at his watch, it was almost four in the afternoon.
Tomoya got to his feet, intending to get himself a coffee. He had only taken a couple of steps when his cell phone started ringing. He didn’t recognize the number but decided to take it, anyway.
“Yes?”
“Am I speaking to Mr. Tomoya Takagaki?” inquired a woman’s voice.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Sorry to call you at work. This is Detective Sergeant Utsumi of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department’s Homicide Division.”
“Ah,” Tomoya murmured. He didn’t know what to say.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Utsumi continued. “Could you spare the time?”
“That’s not a problem. Um, when did you have in mind?”
“The sooner, the better. In fact, right now would be good. I’m actually outside your office right now.”
Tomoya gave a little gasp of surprise. With his phone pressed to his ear, he went to a nearby window and peered down but couldn’t see Detective Utsumi in the street.
“Well, Mr. Takagaki?”
“Um, yes, fine. Come on up, then.”
“Thank you very much.”
“See you in a minute.”
As soon as he ended the call, his mind started racing. It had been six months since he’d seen Detective Utsumi. He’d given her his business card but she’d never contacted him before, so why was she here now?
It’s blindingly obvious. It’s to do with Hasunuma’s death. She must suspect me of being involved. I must be very careful.
He took a deep breath.
He was waiting in front of the reception desk when Utsumi walked in. Her long hair was tied behind her head and she was wearing a dark-blue pantsuit. She radiated competence, as she walked toward him with long, brisk strides.
When she reached him, she nodded her head in greeting. “I apologize for turning up suddenly like this.”
“It’s not a problem... Would the same meeting room we used last time be all right?”
“That’ll be fine, yes.”
They sat facing each other in the cramped room. Utsumi placed both hands on her knees and drew herself upright in her chair.