“I see. So you live alone?”
“Pretty much, yes,” Kudo said, his expression softening. He poured the tea into the two glasses and placed one in front of Kusanagi. “Is … this about Mr. Togashi?”
Kusanagi had been reaching for the glass, but now he pulled his hand back. If Kudo wanted to get to the heart of the matter, there was no point wasting time on pleasantries.
“That’s right. As you know, Yasuko Hanaoka’s ex-husband was murdered.”
“She had nothing to do with it.”
“That so?”
“Of course. They broke up a while ago, and they never saw each other. Why would she kill him?”
“As it happens, I’m inclined to agree with you, for the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“There are many couples in the world, and a lot of divorces, and none of them fall apart exactly the same way. If every unhappy couple could just break it off cleanly, become total strangers in the space of a day and never see each other again, well, then we wouldn’t have stalkers. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Often one party breaks off a relationship, but the other party doesn’t. Even after the divorce papers have been filed.”
“Well, she told me she hadn’t seen Mr. Togashi at all,” Kudo stated, a look of defiance growing in his eyes.
“Have you talked to her about the murder?”
“I have. I mean, after all, that’s why I went to see her.”
Which fits with Yasuko Hanaoka’s testimony.
“So you had Ms. Hanaoka on your mind, even before the incident?”
Kudo frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘on my mind.’ Given that you came to me here at my apartment, I’m guessing you already know about my relationship with her. I was a regular at the club where she used to work. I even met her husband once, though that was by accident. That’s when I found out his name was Togashi. When he was killed, I saw his name and photo on the news, so I got worried and went to see how Yasuko was doing.”
“I’ve heard you were a regular at her club, yes. Just, it’s a little hard for me to imagine you going so far out of your way to see her just because of that. You run a business, don’t you? I’d think you’d be rather busy.” Kusanagi knew how his questions sounded—cynical and leading. He didn’t like talking like this, even though his job frequently demanded it.
Admittedly though, the technique worked. Kudo blanched. “I thought you were here to ask about Yasuko Hanaoka. So far, all your questions have been about me. Am I a suspect?”
Kusanagi smiled and waved a hand. “Not at all. I’m sorry to pry. I merely wanted to find out more about you, since it seemed like you were particularly close to Ms. Hanaoka.”
The detective had spoken as gently as he could, but Kudo’s glare only hardened. He took a deep breath, then nodded.
“All right. As I’d prefer to not have you poking around further, I’ll be as frank as I can. I’m fond of Yasuko, romantically. When I heard about the murder, I thought it might be my chance to get closer to her. How’s that? Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
Kusanagi chuckled wryly. It was an honest chuckle—not an act or an interrogation technique. “There’s no need to be defensive.”
“But that’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
“We just need to understand who is connected to Yasuko Hanaoka, and how.”
“That’s what I don’t get. Why do the police suspect her?” Kudo shook his head.
“Togashi was trying to find her just before he was killed. Which means there’s a chance they did meet,” Kusanagi told him, hoping the revelation would do more good than harm.
“What, so that means she killed him? Isn’t that a little simplistic, even for the police?” Kudo snorted and shrugged.
“Sorry we’re not very sophisticated. Of course, we have suspects other than Ms. Hanaoka. It’s just that we can’t afford to remove her from the list at this point. Even if she isn’t the key to solving this murder, someone around her might be.”
“Someone around her?” Kudo raised an eyebrow, then shook his head as though he had just realized something. “Is that so,” he said.
“Is what so?”
“You think she went to someone and asked them to kill her former husband for her, don’t you? That’s why you came here. So now I’m a suspected assassin!”
“We’re certainly not saying anyone is an assassin, yet…” Kusanagi protested, purposely letting his voice trail off. If Kudo had any bright ideas he wanted to share, Kusanagi didn’t want to discourage him.
“If it’s an accomplice you’re looking for, you’ll need to talk to a lot more people. I wasn’t the only customer infatuated with her, that’s for sure. She’s quite a beauty. And I don’t just mean when she was a hostess, either. To hear the Yonazawas tell it, they get customers at the lunch shop who come just to see her. Why don’t you go talk to all of them, too?”
“If you have any names or contact information, I’ll be happy to question them.”
“Sorry, but I don’t. Nor would I wish that on anybody. It’s against my policy to squeal on innocents,” Kudo said, chopping his hand through the air with finality. “And even if you did manage to meet with all of them, I don’t think you’d turn up much. She’s not the kind of person to go looking for someone like that. She’s no black widow, and she’s no fool. In any case, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill someone just because a beautiful woman asked me to. So, Detective … Kusanagi, was it? I’m sorry you’ve come so far out of your way only to leave empty-handed.” He then stood abruptly, putting a period at the end of his words.
Kusanagi got up from the sofa, his pen still poised over his notepad. “Were you at work on March tenth?”
Kudo’s eyes went wide with disbelief for a moment, then his face hardened. “What, you want me to provide an alibi, now?”
“Yes, in fact,” Kusanagi replied, seeing no need to beat around the bush. Kudo was already angry, after all.
“Hold on a moment, then,” Kudo said. He went over to his briefcase and pulled out a thick notebook. He flipped through the pages and sighed. “Well, I don’t have anything on my calendar for that day, so I assume I went to work as usual. That means I probably left work around six o’clock. If you need to confirm that, ask one of my employees.”
“And after you left work?”
“Like I said, I didn’t write anything down, so I assume it was the same as every day. I came home, ate something, and went to bed. Too bad I live alone—no witnesses for you to question.”
“Could you try remembering just a little more about that day for me? You understand, I’m just trying to reduce the list of suspects we need to check.”
Kudo looked almost despondent now, and he opened up his calendar again. “All right. The tenth, huh? Oh right…” he muttered half to himself.
“Did something happen?”
“Yes, I went to a client’s after work. It was in the evening … that’s right, he treated me to yakitori.”
“Do you know around what time that was?”
“Not exactly. I guess we were out drinking until nine or so. I went home straight after that. This is the client,” Kudo said, pulling a business card out of his notebook. The card bore the name of a designer’s office.
“Thank you,” Kusanagi said, declining to take the card. “I won’t need that.” He then put away his pen and turned toward the door.
He was slipping into his shoes when Kudo called after him.
“Detective? How long are you going to be watching her?”
Kusanagi met his glare silently.
“That’s how you knew I went to see her, right? Because you have her under surveillance? And then you tailed me back here.”
Kusanagi scratched his head. “You got me.”