“Do you think he could have been murdered?” He thought he detected a gleam in the woman’s eyes.
“Well—” he said, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. He knew he had to avoid any kind of verbal slipup here. “I honestly have no idea. At the same time, I don’t think it would be that extraordinary if he had been. There were loads of people with reason to hate him. Like, uhm...” He thought hard before he continued. “Like, if you were to tell me that one of the Namikis had killed him, I’d be surprised — but on the other hand I’d also think, ‘Of course they did.’”
Utsumi nodded her head several times. “And what if it was you?” she asked, pointing at Tomoya with the tip of her ball pen. “If your friends knew that you were the one who had killed him, how do you think they would take it?”
“Me? Killed him?” The unexpected question threw Tomoya off-balance. He could feel the blood rushing to his face.
“It’s common knowledge that you and Saori Namiki were in a relationship. No one would be shocked to hear that Yutaro, Saori’s father, was the killer. By the same token, no one would be surprised to hear that you had done it, either. That’s all I’m saying.”
What was the detective getting at? What was the right way to answer her question?
“Well, I, uh, don’t know what to say. Maybe you’re right. Maybe some of my friends wouldn’t be all that surprised. But it would be a different story with anyone who knew me welclass="underline" I’m a total coward. You need guts to take revenge...”
“Are you saying you hadn’t even thought about it?”
Tomoya felt the sweat dripping down his temples. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it away.
“I fantasized about taking revenge,” he replied candidly. “But that’s only fantasy. I’m not so dumb that I don’t know what the consequences would be.”
“Thank you,” Utsumi said, looking pleased. “Now for my last question. I’d like you to talk me through what you did all day yesterday in as much detail as possible. It would really help to know where you were.”
She was checking his alibi. Tomoya had been expecting this.
He launched into an account of the day. After spending the morning at home with his mother, Rie, he’d gone out just before midday to watch the parade. He got together with two of his younger coworkers, one of whom was a young woman who had only joined the firm this year. He had offered to act as their guide, since neither of them had been to the parade before.
“Where did you watch it from?” Utsumi asked.
“Near the finish. A lot of the teams keep their best gimmicks and performances for the end.”
“Did you watch the parade right through?”
“We did, yes. It finished sometime after three P.M. After that, we split up for a while.”
“Split up?”
“Both my colleagues had things they wanted to do. We decided to separate and do our own thing for a while. We agreed to rendezvous at this bar near the train station at four, then went our different ways.”
This was something that Tomoya hadn’t really wanted to tell the detective. However, since she could check his story just by asking his two colleagues, it made more sense to be up-front with her from the start.
“Where did you go, Mr. Takagaki?” Although her expression and tone hadn’t changed, Tomoya got the sense that she felt she was onto something.
“I went to this area just past the finish line to say hi to the members of the local team, Team Kikuno, who had just finished their performance — Maya Miyazawa and the rest of the bunch.”
“Who is this Ms. Miyazawa?”
“She’s the leader of the team and the manager of Miyazawa Books. I’m not sure I have her contact details...”
“Not to worry. Who else did you talk to?”
“Some people I bump into at Namiki-ya from time to time. Sorry, I don’t know their names.”
“And after that?”
“It was almost time, so I headed to the bar and met up with my two coworkers. We had a few beers and left the place at around six thirty, I think.”
After that, he told her, he went to Namiki-ya. It was there that he heard the news of Hasunuma’s death.
After listening to his account, Utsumi asked him to furnish her with the names and contact details of the two coworkers and unable to think of a reason not to, he did.
“Thank you. This is all very useful. I may need to ask you a few more questions, so I may get in touch again.” Utsumi shut her little notebook and nodded her thanks.
“You won’t be sharing any information with me today, either, then?”
“Huh?” was all the reply Toyoma got.
“Any information about the case. It’s just like last time: You get to ask all the questions. You haven’t even told me whether Hasunuma was murdered.”
“I think I explained my position at our last meeting.”
“Yes, I know, but...”
“Then thank you for your understanding,” said Utsumi, getting briskly to her feet.
“The truth is,” she said, looking Tomoya in the eyes, “there isn’t actually all that much I can tell you.”
“Which means what?”
“Which means we haven’t yet pinpointed the cause of death.”
“Oh, really?” Tomoya blinked.
Utsumi nodded discreetly. “Thank you for your help,” she said, and opened the door.
19
“The Prosecutorial Review Commission? Yes, of course.” Naoki Niikura nodded his head. “Of course, it had occurred to me.”
“So you knew about it? Most people have never even heard of it.” Inspector Kishitani’s eyes widened. The man’s got a surprisingly genial face for a detective, thought Niikura. He had a glass mug of tea in his hand.
“I only heard of it recently. When I heard the news about that guy’s release, I wondered what on earth ‘deferment of dispensation’ actually meant, so I started looking into it.”
“Did you manage to figure it out?”
“I guess.” Niikura shrugged. “To be frank, I thought it was a pretty half-assed rule. No, I mean, legally-speaking, it’s not even official.”
“You’re right. The police send a case to the prosecutor. The prosecutor has to decide whether or not to prosecute within a fixed time period. All they’re doing is postponing that decision.”
“I tried to find out if there was any way to appeal the decision to defer. That’s what led me to the Prosecutorial Review Commission. I realized that you can only lodge an appeal after the final decision has been made. We were still at the deferment of dispensation stage, so we weren’t there yet. On top of that, the only people who can lodge an appeal are the plaintiff, the accuser, or the victim’s family.”
Inspector Kishitani took an appreciative sip of his herbal tea, then placed his teacup on the table. There was a faint smile on his lips. “You’ve certainly done your homework.”
“The only thing we could do was wait — right?” Niikura looked over at Rumi, his wife, for confirmation. She was sitting in a dining chair, a tray clutched in her hands.
She nodded silently.
“How did you see the case going? Did you expect Hasunuma to be indicted in the end?” Smile or no smile, Inspector Kishitani’s eyes were dead serious.
“Well, I, uhm...” Niikura mumbled something incoherent.
He would be lying if he said that he believed Hasunuma would be indicted. He had spent days agonizing at the thought that nothing would be done; that the man would be able to go about his life completely unpunished.
“Would you have filed an appeal if the prosecutor had decided not to prosecute?”
“Probably. Rather, I’d probably have advised the Namikis to do so. They couldn’t possibly accept such a decision.”