Tojima called me later that night. He had already told Masumura and Namiki what had happened, he said.
“Yutaro feels terrible about having put you in such a difficult position,” Tojima said. “‘I was the one who had this crazy idea in the first place — then I went and off-loaded all the responsibility onto his shoulders.’” Those, apparently, were Namiki’s exact words.
Tojima promised to take care of things. “Relax,” he went on. “As long as we all keep our mouths shut, the police won’t be able to figure out what happened.”
But the police zeroed in on the truth much faster than we’d imagined. When Tojima told me that they had worked out that the helium tank was only a decoy and that liquid nitrogen had been used in the actual crime — that was the worst. Everything went black for me. I was pretty sure that Professor Yukawa must have had a hand in it. I’d never expected him to get involved.
When I heard that you’d discovered Masumura’s true identity and that Tomoya Takagaki had confessed to his role, I knew in my bones that it was just a matter of time. When the police asked me and my wife to come down to the station for questioning, I was already prepared for the worst.
We were interviewed separately. I stuck to my story of knowing nothing and having nothing to do with the murder. For all my stonewalling, though, inside I was worried sick about Rumi. Although she had no knowledge of the plan, I think she had guessed quite early on that I was involved. Her anxiety came to a head when the police called us in.
When they told me that Rumi had collapsed in the middle of her interview and been taken to the hospital, I wasn’t surprised. I rushed to her bedside.
She had hyperventilation syndrome. The doctor asked me if she’d ever had such an attack before and I told him that she’d shown mild symptoms many times.
The doctor had given Rumi something and she was sleeping in her room. I sat down by her bed and squeezed her hand. As I looked at her peaceful, sleeping face, I knew that I had to get her out of the situation I had put her in.
44
The door at the far end of the corridor was wide open. A man in work overalls came out just as Utsumi reached it. He was pushing a large cardboard box on a handcart. Utsumi had a flashback to Tomoya Takagaki’s statement: the part where he talked about transporting the liquid nitrogen.
Utsumi popped her head into the room. Yukawa was standing there with his hands on his hips, his jacket off, and his sleeves rolled up. When he noticed Utsumi, he jerked his chin in her direction.
Utsumi watched the man in overalls move off down the corridor, then she went into Yukawa’s office. She looked around. The room was quite different from her previous visit. The bookshelves were empty of files and the top of the desk free of clutter.
“My research has reached the stage where I no longer need to be here,” Yukawa said, making for his desk. The hot water dispenser, jar of instant coffee, and paper cups were still there.
“That’s good timing.”
“What do you mean?”
“The case has also got to a decisive point. There are only a few odds and ends that still need to be taken care of — tracking down corroborative evidence, stuff like that.”
Yukawa was quietly making instant coffee. Despite him having his back to her, Utsumi sensed that he had something important to tell her.
“Did Chief Kusanagi fill you in on the developments?”
Yukawa turned and walked back toward her, holding two paper cups.
“Yes, he gave me a rundown on the phone. Turns out a lot of people were involved, which is what I expected.”
“Director Mamiya was singing your praises, too. ‘All Detective Galileo’s theories were right. That man has extraordinary powers of insight.’”
Not happy at Utsumi’s use of his Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department nickname, Yukawa arched one eyebrow and shot her a grumpy look. He placed the two paper cups on the table and sat on an armchair. Utsumi also sat down.
Yukawa crossed his legs and reached for one of the cups. “Can I get the full story from you?”
“That’s why I’m here.” Utsumi took a file out of her bag. “First, though, I’ve got to give you a message from the chief. He wants to thank you in person at your earliest convenience, so if there’s any particular restaurant or bar you fancy going to, do please let him know.”
“I’ll give it a think.”
Utsumi nodded and flipped the file open. She had edited together statements from multiple people to make a summary of the case. After hearing that Naoki Niikura had confessed, even Tojima, who had refused to cooperate for so long, had finally and reluctantly provided a statement.
As she slowly leafed through the file, Utsumi reviewed the case in her own mind.
It had been a genuinely complex case. The whole thing had been motivated by the failure of the legal system to bring Hasunuma — a vile and diabolical man — to justice. It was all too easy to sympathize with Naoki Niikura, who did the deed; Yutaro Namiki, who devised the plan; and Shusaku Tojima, who managed it. But feeling sympathetic didn’t alter the fact that no human being has the right to take the life of another human being, despicable or not. Under Kusanagi’s guidance, their next task was to prove that the crime had been reprehensible and unjustifiable. The thought of that final task was enough to make Utsumi depressed.
“Naoki Niikura called Shusaku Tojima to let him know that Hasunuma was dead. The first thing Tojima then did was to call Masumura to tell him what had happened. He also directed him to pluck a few strands of hair from Hasunuma’s head. The next day, Tojima collected the strands of hair from Masumura and stuffed them, along with the helium tank, into a garbage bag. (He’d hidden the stolen tank in the park where the singing contest was held.) He then dumped the bag in a clump of weeds about sixty-five feet from the crime scene.”
“Was it Tojima who stole the tank of helium?”
“When the man handing out the free balloons vacated his post briefly, no one thought twice about it when Shusaku Tojima took his place. Tojima wrapped the helium tank in a piece of green cloth and hid it in the undergrowth behind the public restroom. The color made for good camouflage, which is why no one noticed it.”
“Was Shusaku Tojima expecting Namiki to kill Hasunuma?”
“He thought he might do so. His position was that Namiki had every right to kill him and that he would do his best to get him off the hook if he did. That was what inspired him to come up with the whole helium tank decoy strategy.”
Yukawa shrugged. “That’s what friends are for,” he murmured.
“Moving on,” said Utsumi, consulting her file again. “Maya Miyazawa, the owner of Miyazawa Books, continues to deny any involvement in the plot. For his part, Shusaku Tojima claims not to have spoken to her about it. Working against that is something we heard from Team Kikuno’s props team, who were responsible for the treasure chests among other things. Apparently, Miyazawa summoned them for confabs both before and after the parade, even though she had nothing important to say to them. Our theory is that she just wanted to draw them away from the treasure chests. All that notwithstanding, it’s debatable how much she knew about the plan. Tojima could well have asked her to help in the most vague and roundabout terms. When you think of the vigor with which the pirates manhandled the treasure chests in the parade, it seems likely that she didn’t know that one of them contained liquid nitrogen.” Having reached the end of the file, Utsumi dropped it on the table and reached for her cup. “That’s everything. What do you think?”
Yukawa only spoke after staring silently into the bottom of his paper cup for a while. “I don’t see any glaring contradictions. Everything seems to line up quite nicely.”