“Let me start by thanking you for your help with our previous investigation.”
“Was I any help?”
“The information you provided was invaluable. In fact, it was thanks to you that we were able to make an arrest.” Utsumi looked at Tomoya intently. “I imagine you heard, Mr. Takagaki, that the case didn’t make it to trial. The prosecutor decided on a deferment of dispensation, so the suspect was released.” She was scrutinizing his face. Tomoya got the sense that she was watching for even the tiniest reaction.
He said nothing, so she followed up with, “But, of course, you were aware of that?”
“Yes, I’d heard.”
“Who told you?”
“Saori’s — Saori Namiki’s family. To be precise, I heard it from Natsumi, Saori’s sister,” Tomoya replied. He wondered why Utsumi was interested in that now specifically.
“How did you feel when you heard the news?”
“How did I feel? I thought it was weird. There was loads of evidence against the guy, right? It makes no sense for him to be let off scot-free.”
“I can see why you might feel like that. What did you decide to do about it?”
“Huh?” Tomoya was thrown off-balance. “Decide to do?... What do you mean?”
“If you don’t mind my asking, do you know what deferment of dispensation means?”
“Uhm, to be quite honest, no, I’m not sure I do. Natsumi said something about there not being enough evidence. So, I figured it meant something like ‘get off unpunished.’”
“It doesn’t necessarily mean that, no. It does involve deferral, so there is a good chance that the suspect will not be indicted. And if the suspect’s not indicted, then obviously he won’t be punished, either. Were you happy with that outcome?”
“No, uhm, what I mean is...” Tomoya was shaking his head furiously. “Of course, I wasn’t happy with that. It’s intolerable. I was hoping the police and the prosecutor would go the extra mile. I wanted them to get to the truth.”
He had spoken with a lot of feeling, but Utsumi was seemingly unmoved. If anything, there was a coldness in the look she gave him.
“If a decision was taken not to punish the suspect — I mean, if it was decided not to indict him, what would you do then?” Utsumi asked.
“You mean, if the case against him was dismissed?” Tomoya knew that his eyes were swimming about shiftily. “I did my best not to think about it. I prayed that it wouldn’t turn out like that.” After a pause, he added, “Prayed from the bottom of my heart.”
Utsumi didn’t respond. Tomoya started feeling uncomfortable.
“Let me ask you frankly. Were you thinking of appealing to the Prosecutorial Review Commission, if the case against him was dropped?”
“The prosecutorial what?”
“The Prosecutorial Review Commission. It’s a commission with the power to review prosecutors’ decisions not to bring charges against suspects in a criminal case. The only people who can appeal to it are the plaintiff, the accuser, or the victim’s family. Given that you were on such friendly terms with Saori’s family, Mr. Takagaki, I thought that you might have proposed or discussed an appeal with them. That’s why I’m asking you about it now. From your reaction, I assume that you didn’t?”
Utsumi’s businesslike explanation only served to make Tomoya more flustered.
“No, it never occurred to me. I don’t know anything about the law...”
“A moment ago, you said that you were praying that the charges against Hasunuma wouldn’t be dropped. Did you think that if the charges against him were dropped and he wasn’t indicted, that then there would be nothing you could do, that you would have no more recourse under the law?”
“Yeah, I guess so... I guess I thought that. Rather fuzzily, though.”
Utsumi nodded curtly and jotted something down in her notebook. Tomoya was curious but there was no point in asking her what she was writing. She would never tell him.
“Uhm, that Prosecutorial...”
Utsumi looked up. “The Prosecutorial Review Commission, you mean?”
“Yes. What would happen if we did appeal to the Prosecutorial Review Commission?”
“They would deliberate the reasoning of the prosecutor’s decision not to indict. Were they to conclude that the wrong decision had been made, the prosecutor would then have to review the case. Were he to decide not to charge the case for a second time, then, depending on circumstances, a second Prosecutorial Review Commission could be convoked. The whole process can take a surprisingly long time.”
“You’re telling me that the prosecutor’s decision can be reversed? Does this commission often recommend that the prosecutor go ahead with a case?”
“Honestly, no, that’s very rare — but it’s not nonexistent. In a murder case where the suspect hasn’t been indicted, an appeal to the Prosecutorial Review Commission represents the last recourse for the victim’s family.”
“I had no idea.”
Tomoya wondered if the Namiki family were any better informed than he was. Natsumi had certainly never mentioned the commission to him.
“Let me change my line of questioning,” Utsumi said drily. “The man who was arrested on suspicion of murdering Saori Namiki — I would like you to tell me what you know about him and his recent activities. In as much detail as possible, please.”
“About Hasunuma, you mean?”
“That’s right.” Utsumi nodded and gave him a wan smile.
Tomoya realized that she hadn’t uttered the man’s name. Was that deliberate?
“Whatever I know about him is stuff I heard from Natsumi or the people at Namiki-ya.”
“That’s fine. Fire away.” Utsumi’s pen was poised above her notebook.
Tomoya told Utsumi about the night Hasunuma showed up at Namiki-ya; about him living in an old warehouse office in Kikuno; and finally that he had died the day before. He also told her where he’d gotten the information in each case.
Utsumi’s pen stopped moving across the page. She looked hard at Tomoya.
“Do you know where Hasunuma was living before he moved back to Kikuno?”
“No.”
“Did you ever try to find out?”
“No. Why would I?”
“When you heard the news that this man — a man you felt deserved to be punished — had been released, didn’t that make you curious? Didn’t you want to see what kind of life he was leading?”
Tomoya blinked and shook his head. “It never occurred to me, no.”
Utsumi pulled her chin back. Her mouth was relaxed, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.
“How did you feel when you heard about Hasunuma’s death?”
“Surprised. Shocked.” Tomoya’s eyes widened. “I thought that something must have happened.”
“What did you think caused it? Accident? Illness?”
I must be careful what I say here, Tomoya told himself. He took a deep, slow breath. “I didn’t hear anything about Hasunuma being sick, so it didn’t occur to me that it could be that. But I didn’t assume it was an accident, either. I just had a vague notion that... that he’d been caught up in some kind of trouble; yes, caught up in some kind of trouble. With someone like him, it’s only to be expected.”
“Someone like him?”
“Someone who can happily kill another human being.”
“We don’t officially know that he killed her.”
“He’s guilty. He murdered Saori. I’m sure of it.”
Tomoya was getting annoyed and he scowled at Utsumi. Her face showed only the most complete indifference.
“You used the word ‘trouble’? Are you implying that he was murdered?”
“I hadn’t really thought it through. A brawl, maybe, something that got out of hand...”