“This is my fault,” Kudo apologized to Yasuko. “You could have beat the rain if you’d gone straight home.”
Yasuko shook her head. “Don’t be silly.”
“You live far from here?”
“Only about ten minutes by bicycle.”
“Bicycle? Oh dear.” Kudo bit his lip, looking up at the clouds.
“It’s okay. I have a folding umbrella in my bag, and my bicycle’s at the shop. I’ll walk home and just go in a little early tomorrow.”
“Let me give you a lift.”
“No, it’s all right.”
But Kudo was already stepping out into the street, hailing a cab.
“Let’s have dinner next time,” Kudo said as the taxi pulled out into the street, the two of them in the back. “Your daughter can come along, too, if that works better.”
“You don’t have to worry about her—but what about you?”
“Oh, I’m fine anytime. Not that busy these days.”
“Oh. Right.”
What she had meant was, What about your wife? but she decided not to press the matter. She sensed that he got her drift but was avoiding the topic.
He asked for her cell number, and she gave it to him. She couldn’t think of a good reason not to.
Kudo had the taxi take them right to her apartment. She was sitting on the inside, by the door that didn’t open, so they both had to get out.
“Jump back in or you’ll get wet,” she said, standing out on the sidewalk.
“Right. Till next time.”
Yasuko merely nodded and smiled.
As Kudo got back into the taxi, he glanced past her, his eyes fixing on something. She turned around to see what it was, and discovered a man standing at the bottom of the stairs, umbrella in hand. It was too dark to see his face, but from the shape of his body she realized it was Ishigami.
Ishigami started walking down the street now, moving slowly. From the look on Kudo’s face, Yasuko imagined that Ishigami had been standing there watching the two of them as they got out of the taxi.
“I’ll call,” Kudo said through the window before signaling for the driver to leave.
Yasuko watched the taillights of the cab as it pulled away. Only then did she realize that her heart was fluttering. How many years had it been since she had spent time with a man who actually made her happy?
She watched as the taxi drove past Ishigami on his way down the sidewalk.
When she got back to her apartment, Misato was watching television.
“Anything happen today?” Yasuko asked.
Misato knew perfectly well she wasn’t asking about school.
“Nope. Nothing. Mika didn’t say anything, either. I don’t think the police have talked to her yet.”
“Okay.”
Moments later, Yasuko’s cell phone rang. The display showed that the call was coming from a public phone.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Ishigami here,” came the low, familiar voice. “Anything happen today?”
“Nothing in particular. Nothing with Misato, either.”
“I see. Please, be careful. The police still suspect you. They’ll be doing the groundwork now, checking into everything and everyone around you.”
“I understand.”
“Did … anything else happen?”
“What?” Yasuko asked, flustered. “No, nothing. I just said nothing happened.”
“Right … all right. Sorry. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.” Ishigami hung up.
Yasuko put down her cell phone, wondering what that was all about. She had never heard Ishigami sound so uncertain before. Then it dawned on her that it must have been because he had seen Kudo. He had to have wondered who the man was who was talking to her so familiarly. No doubt that was why he had pressed her at the end—he wanted to know about Kudo.
Yasuko knew why Ishigami was going so far out of his way to help her and her daughter. Like Sayoko had said, he had a thing for her.
Suddenly she wondered what would happen if she got close to another man. Would Ishigami keep helping her like he had? Would he keep solving all their problems? Yasuko decided that it might be best not to have dinner with Kudo. And if they did meet, not to let Ishigami know about it. But as soon as the thought came, a strange feeling of anxiety seized her. How long would this last? How long would she have to avoid Ishigami’s watchful eyes?
Would she be barred from seeing another man until the statute of limitations on Togashi’s death ran out?
EIGHT
From outside the gym door, Kusanagi could hear the squeaking of sneakers on polished hardwood, punctuated by what sounded like tiny percussive explosions. Familiar sounds.
He stopped in the doorway and looked inside. On the nearest tennis court he saw Yukawa poised on the near half of the court, racquet held at the ready, prepared for the next serve. The muscles in his thighs weren’t as toned as they had been back when the two of them were in school, but his form was as good as ever.
His opponent was a student. He was apparently very skilled, and he had deftly countered Yukawa’s usual devious attacks and answered his every move.
In one smooth motion, the younger man tossed the ball in the air and then smashed it into the corner. The game was over, and Yukawa sat down on the spot. He chuckled and said something to his victorious opponent. Then his eyes caught sight of Kusanagi. He called a thanks to the student, waved good-bye, pulled himself shakily to his feet, and, racquet in hand, headed over to the waiting detective.
“What is it now?”
Kusanagi took a half step back. “Hey, that’s my line. It was you who called me.”
There had been a call from Yukawa on the calls-received list on Kusanagi’s cell phone.
“Oh, that’s right. When I tried to get ahold of you my call went direct to voice mail, but it wasn’t important enough to leave a message. I figured you must be busy.”
“Actually, I had my phone turned off because I was watching a movie.”
“During business hours? You’re really letting your hair down.”
“I wish. I was checking into the mother and daughter’s alibi. Figured I might as well see what kind of movie the ladies went to see. After all, I can’t really tell if the suspect is telling the truth if I don’t know my facts.”
“Still, it’s hard to beat getting paid to watch movies.”
“That’s the irony of it. It’s no fun at all when you’re doing it for work. Anyway, I’m sorry I came all the way down here if it wasn’t important. I tried to find you at the lab, but they told me you were here.”
“Well, since you’re here anyway, how about getting something to eat? I do have to ask you something, after all.” Yukawa walked over to the door, where he slipped out of his gym sneakers and into his regular shoes.
“And what might that be?”
“It has to do with where you were this afternoon,” Yukawa said, walking.
“Where I was?”
Yukawa stopped and leveled his racquet at Kusanagi. “The movie theater.”
They stopped in at a bar near campus. It was a newer place, one that hadn’t been there when Kusanagi was at school. They sat down at a table at the back.
“The suspect says she went to the movies on the tenth of this month—the day Togashi was murdered. Now, the daughter told one of her friends at school about it on the twelfth,” Kusanagi said, pouring Yukawa a glass of beer from a bottle. “I just confirmed that with the friend. Which is why I went to see the movie—to see if what she said about the movie checked out.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you had every reason to be watching drivel on the public’s dollar. So what did the daughter’s friend have to say for herself?”
“Nothing helpful. According to her, there was nothing unusual about anything the daughter said. Her friend’s name is Mika Ueno. Mika told me she had seen the movie, too, so they had had a lot to talk about.”