“That’s what we think, too. There’s probably the occasional small lapse of memory, but we don’t see any major or deliberate falsehoods.”
“Is that the story you’ll be sending to the prosecutor?”
“That’s what we mean to do, yes...”
Yukawa’s use of the word story bothered Utsumi.
“If you don’t mind my asking, on what charges will the prosecutor indict the different individuals involved?”
“That’s rather complicated.” Utsumi picked up the file again. “If we take Naoki Niikura’s statement at face value, he didn’t intend to kill Hasunuma. That means we will have to go with a charge of manslaughter for him. Meanwhile, at the end of the day, Yutaro Namiki didn’t participate in the crime at all. Since he originated the idea, we could charge him as an accomplice, though the charge would only be one of bodily harm. As for Tomoya Takagaki, he’d only been told that they were going to ‘punish’ Hasunuma and didn’t know how the liquid nitrogen was going to be used. If we try to charge him as an accomplice, the chances are the case against him won’t stick. The problem is Shusaku Tojima. In his case, the charge of accomplice in bodily harm would definitely stand up; in addition, he took measures in anticipation of Hasunuma’s death by devising the helium tank alibi. There are issues of legal interpretation, but willful negligence leading to murder might be the most suitable charge to bring against him. At the same time, that charge seems unlikely to stick since it wasn’t Tojima, but Niikura, who took the final decision about whether Hasunuma should live or die. As for Rumi Niikura, we suspect that she was aware of the plan, but whether that constitutes grounds for charging her is another matter.”
Utsumi looked at Yukawa. “And that’s everything.”
“What about Hasunuma?”
“Huh?”
“How will you deal with Hasunuma? Is it a case of ‘suspect deceased, prosecution abandoned’?”
“Ah...” Utsumi had been caught off guard. She hadn’t thought about that. “I suppose so.”
“What’s Kusanagi’s take on that? The reality is that it was Masumura who uncovered the truth of Yuna Motohashi’s murder and Niikura who did the same for Saori’s death.”
“Kusanagi says it’s complicated. On the one hand, it’s a good thing that the truth came to light. On the other hand, he’d prefer it if we had solved both cases ourselves.”
“That’s more or less what I was expecting...,” murmured Yukawa, gulping down the last of his coffee. He replaced the now-empty cup on the table.
“Have you located the park?”
“What park?”
“You know, the one that appears in Niikura’s statement. He says that Hasunuma assaulted Saori in a little park.”
“Ah-ah,” gurgled Utsumi vaguely, as she nodded and reached for her notebook.
“We did locate it, yes. Niikura mentioned something about construction work being underway. That proved a useful clue. We think it was probably West Kikuno Children’s Park. It’s about a ten minutes’ walk from Namiki-ya. It was undergoing refurbishment three years ago, when Saori was murdered. Anyway, what about it?”
Yukawa, who was plunged in thought, didn’t answer the question. Utsumi knew better than to press him at a time like this. What was on his mind? she wondered.
“Utsumi.” Yukawa looked at her intently. “There are a couple of things I need you to look into for me. Do you mind?”
Utsumi took a ball pen out of her bag, opened her notebook, and hunched forward. “Fire away.”
“A word of warning before I start. I need you to keep this secret from Kusanagi. I also would appreciate if you don’t ask me why I am getting you to make these inquiries. Unless you’re willing to accept these two conditions, I won’t go on.”
Utsumi looked at her old friend the physicist. The brooding expression on his face was atypical.
“Could I ask you one thing?”
“What?”
“Do you accept the version of events that I presented as true and correct? Or do you still have some doubts?”
Yukawa breathed out loudly, crossed his arms, then put his left hand to his chin with the thumb, index finger, and middle finger extended. His face was pensive, but when Utsumi saw the position of his fingers, she was reminded of something — something she thought she had learned in physics class.
By the time she finally remembered what it was — Fleming’s left-hand rule for motors — Yukawa had relaxed somewhat.
“Do I accept your version of events? I can’t yet answer that question. Which is why I’m asking you this favor.”
“Fine,” Utsumi replied promptly. “Tell me what you want me to do. I won’t ask you why.”
45
When she opened the front door and went outside, her neck and shoulders shuddered as the chilly air enveloped them. It was already November. Winter was definitely on its way.
Rumi walked around the house and into the back garden. She’d taken up gardening and tending to her flowers as one of her daily tasks.
She contemplated her flowers before getting down to work.
The youth-and-old-age zinnias — as the name suggests — stayed in flower for a long time. They were in full bloom, but probably didn’t have long to go. The pale pink salvia was still in flower and looked to have plenty of life in it yet. Although it was a perennial, it couldn’t make it through the winter unless it was pruned and brought indoors.
How will the garden fare this year? Rumi wondered. Maybe it was hopeless. It wasn’t just the salvia, but the other flowers, too: Unless someone took care of them, they would wither and die.
The sasanqua camellia hedge wasn’t yet in bloom. It shouldn’t be long now, but would she get the chance to enjoy its beauty?
As she examined the buds, she could see the street through gaps in the hedge. A black car was parked on the side of the road. Recently, it was there all the time. The back windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see inside.
One time, when Rumi was collecting her mail from the mailbox, she caught sight of a man in a dark suit leaning against the car having a smoke. He’d quickly clambered back inside, looking rather agitated.
The memory depressed her. They were police and were keeping an eye on her. That much was obvious.
She suddenly lost all interest in tending her flowers. While none of the nearby houses overlooked the garden, there were several big apartment blocks a certain way away. For all she knew, they could be spying on her from a high floor using a telephoto lens.
Pulling off her gardening gloves, she went back around to the front of the house. She had just reached the path leading to the front door, when she noticed someone standing on the far side of the garden gate. Not another damn detective, she thought. But it wasn’t. The instant she saw the man’s face, her heart started racing. It was someone she knew; someone she had often seen at Namiki-ya: Yukawa, the university professor.
Yukawa seemed to have noticed her, too. He smiled and bowed.
Feeling very wary, Rumi walked up to the gate. She remembered what her husband had told her. He’s not just your regular academic; he’s chummy with the lead detectives and closely connected to the police.
She pushed the gate open. “What do you want here?” she asked.
“I’d very much like to talk to you,” said Yukawa, a kindly expression on his face. “It’s about the case.”
Rumi was too unsettled to know how to respond.
“Nothing I tell you is supposed to work to your disadvantage,” went on Yukawa, who seemed to have anticipated Rumi’s discomfiture. “I’m just here to tell you that you have a choice.”