‘It’s just a matter of priority,’ Mikura answered, with no hesitation. ‘We would need to dispatch the riot squad for the search if any of the girl’s things were found. Transport can pretend to be pest control while carrying out number plate checks, collecting fingerprints. Community Safety can—’
‘What about Logistics?’ Mikami asked, cutting him off. ‘I’m pretty sure the first thing you need to establish an Investigative HQ is a budget and equipment.’
‘We didn’t think of it straight away. But that can be fixed retrospectively, unlike the investigation.’
‘What about PR, can that be fixed retrospectively? Didn’t you see a problem in delaying things with the press? Did Arakida tell you it was fine?’
‘That’s . . .’
Mikura hesitated. Mikami’d hit the mark.
‘You kept us out deliberately. That’s it, isn’t it?’
‘No, that’s not—’
‘How long were you planning to keep us out, if I hadn’t shown up?’
Mikura fell silent.
‘Do you understand what you’ve done? A high-school girl is missing. Her parents received calls from someone purporting to be her kidnapper. Yet your mind was on something other than the case. This is a sham. You let an internal struggle influence the investigation of a kidnapping. No – you used the kidnapping . . . as retaliation against Tokyo? As a warning? Insurance? How could you support something so reprehensible?’
‘You’re the sham.’
Mikami ignored him and carried on. ‘You know it’s a hoax. That’s why you’re reacting this way.’
‘We know nothing of the sort. It’s possible it’s a hoax, that’s all. Our focus is on bringing the kidnapper to justice. You’re being paranoid if you think we’re shutting you out. You’re only making the accusation because you’re feeling slighted.’
‘If that’s true, why keep her identity secret?’
‘I already told you. For as long as the chance exists, however remote, that this is a teenager’s hoax—’
‘I don’t mean from the press! I’m asking you why you’re keeping their identities secret from Admin.’
Mikami’s phone started to vibrate across the top of the desk. Keeping his gaze locked on Mikura, he reached to pick it up. It was Kuramae.
‘Sir, I managed to discover Chief Matsuoka’s whereabouts. He went to Station G in one of the enforcement vehicles.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Ah, yes. Five or six phones started ringing together so I answered one without thinking . . . anyway, it was from Station G.’
‘Okay, good work. Go back to the office and chase it up with Suwa.’
Mikami ended the call. Mikura looked as though his response was ready.
‘Go on, then.’
‘We no longer feel able to share important information with Admin. You sold us out to Tokyo.’
‘Yeah, and I’m sick of hearing that. If you insist this isn’t all a sham, give me the identity of the girl and the family.’
Mikura let out a shallow sigh, then added coolly, ‘This isn’t Admin’s business. Nobody needs to know, ever.’
Mikami felt his head pitch. The true essence of the police. Utterly self-contained. Mikami had shared the same opinion. In his many years working as a detective, he’d taken this kind of exclusion as a matter of course. But . . .
Now a part of him saw things from the outside.
This isn’t Admin’s business.
Nobody needs to know, ever.
He could already see how a reporter would respond.
A, self-employed. B . . . C . . . How can we be sure they even exist?
64
The dust was swirling, getting into Mikami’s eyes.
He got into his car, rubbing them as he checked the digital display. Three fifteen. He took out his mobile and called Media Relations. The moment it connected, his ears were subjected to a barrage of noise. Angry shouts, hurled back and forth. You think this is some kind of joke? Give us their names! Was everything you said a plain lie? The reporters were irate, and Suwa was taking the fire. Mikami got a vivid sense of how close they were.
Mikumo had answered the call. He heard a female voice.
‘Can you hear this?’
‘Hello? Can you hear me?’
‘Have all of the papers been notified?’
‘Sorry, sir, I can’t really hear . . .’
Mikami raised his voice. ‘Is the provisional agreement in effect?’
‘Ah, yes . . .’ There was a rustling; the din quietened a little. It sounded like Mikumo had ducked under her desk. ‘Yes, it is. But a lot of the papers are refusing to comply unless we give them the names. They’re threatening to send reporters into Genbu.’
‘The agreement is still binding, however temporary. Make sure they don’t go against it.’
‘They’re saying after three and a half hours it’s too late. One said they already had someone in Station G earlier today, to cover an accident; now they intend to send someone else.’
‘You can’t let them. Tell them they’re not to go anywhere near Station G. If they do, they’re in direct violation.’
‘Kuramae’s trying to talk them down. He’s telling them it’s a possible hoax, that that’s what’s delaying the release. They’re not listening, though. They’re really worked—’
‘I’ve got another report. Can you take this down?’
‘Sure, one second.’ The level of noise jumped sharply, then became muffled again. ‘Okay, go ahead.’
Mikami read out Mikura’s additional information. His ears picked up on the jeering between each sentence. Where’s your boss now? Get him here, this instant! His absence was fuel to their fire.
‘That’s everything. Hand the notes to Suwa.’
‘Sir . . . do you have the girl’s name?’
‘Not yet.’
Silence.
Her dismay was evident even on the phone. She could probably see that Suwa was close to breaking.
‘Tell him to hold on.’
‘Are you coming back?’
‘I have to go to Station G. Let Suwa know, but be quiet about it.’
‘When will you be back?’ Her voice sounded desperate, but he knew he couldn’t answer, as things were. He had no guarantee he’d even be able to meet with Matsuoka. ‘Just an estimate. Can you say roughly when—’
‘Tell Kuramae to go to Supplies in the Prefectural Government.’
‘Sorry, where?’
‘There’s a conference room on the fifth floor of the west wing, it’s got a capacity of over three hundred people. We need to use it for the press conference. For now, he can tell Supplies it’s for an important case. We’ll need space in the underground parking area, too, enough for all the press from Tokyo and neighbouring prefectures.’
‘Okay, I’ll pass on the message. Can I help?’
‘Make sure the press understand what they can’t do. Get them to call their head offices in Tokyo. They can’t use vehicles with their names on, or any kind of logo. They have to conceal the radio antennas on their broadcast vans. Tell them they aren’t – under any circumstances – to go anywhere near Genbu. Also that there’s a strict ban on parking in the Prefectural HQ. They aren’t to do anything to give themselves away en route, and they have to use the underground car park at the Prefectural Government. From there, they need to use the goods lift and move quietly to the fifth floor.’
‘But . . . that’s impossible.’ She was almost crying. ‘They’re not listening to anything we say. They’ll never listen to me—’