The man saluted, still looking surprised. He hurried out. Mikami looked up, using the look to convey his gratitude. He readied himself to continue.
‘In many ways, Media Relations is semi-private. Sometimes it’s important for us to stand our ground against Criminal Investigations. There are rules that must be adhered to for a kidnapping. Rules for the police, rules for the press, too. It’s our job, in Media Relations, to ensure that both sides respect and follow these guidelines. Please, I’m asking you again. I need to know the identity of the family.’
Matsuoka relaxed his arms. His eyes were piercing, relentless.
‘And so the toilet, right?’
Mikami nodded. Something else had struck him in that moment.
‘That’s not all, though. I need to help my team. They’re battling with this even as we speak, back at HQ.’
Matsuoka’s eyes drifted off. He stood like that for a while, clearly running it all through his mind. It happened without warning. Matsuoka turned his back to Mikami. He plunged his hands deep into his pockets.
Thinking out loud . . .
It hit Mikami like an electric shock. Thank you. Mikami mouthed the words, pulling out his notebook.
‘Ma-sa-to Me-sa-ki,’ Matsuoka said, his voice low. ‘“Masato” using the characters for “truth” and “person”. “Me” as in “medicine”, and “saki” from Nagasaki. Forty-nine.’
Masato Mesaki.
‘He owns a sports store in Genbu. The address is: 2-4-6, 2 Chome, Ota-machi.’
Mikami was concentrating on getting it all down. His writing was a mess. He got ready for the rest.
But . . .
He looked back up, startled. Matsuoka had turned to face him again. His hands were out of his pockets. What was wrong? What about the girl’s mother? What about – most importantly – the girl herself? C . . . the victim of the kidnapping.
‘That’s all I can give you.’
‘But . . . this won’t be—’
‘Did you not hear me?’ he threatened.
But it was too late to turn back. ‘Please, reconsider. The press won’t sign the coverage agreement without the girl’s name.’
Matsuoka fell silent.
‘If an agreement isn’t put in place, the press will stampede. Hundreds of reporters, photographers. They will get in the way of the investigation.’
Still, silence.
‘It’s a hoax, the girl’s own doing. I heard someone mention the possibility, back in HQ. I’ll give the names to the press; at the same time, I’ll impress on them the importance of not releasing them publicly. Even if I didn’t – they understand that much. They would never think to print the name of a young girl.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Some things must never be spoken.’
Never be spoken? Something felt wrong. Matsuoka had sounded as if he was cornered. Flickers of doubt resurfaced in Mikami’s mind. He no longer suspected Criminal Investigations of having staged the kidnapping, but he hadn’t completely discounted the idea that they were using it to their advantage. That they had realized the kidnapping was a hoax but were keeping the truth hidden, had decided to head up a full-scale investigation in order to force Tokyo into retreat. Mikami had to ask. Matsuoka was the most distinguished detective in the headquarters; he was like an elder brother.
‘You have proof it’s a hoax. Is that why you can’t tell me?’
Matsuoka didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t answer.
Mikami’s pulse was rising.
‘Tokyo taking control of Criminal Investigations. I feel the shame, too. But if what you’re doing here is taking advantage of some hoax – whatever the circumstances behind it – this investigation is nothing more than a sham – it’s heresy.’
‘There’s a phrase: “It takes a heretic to catch a heretic.”’
Mikami was sure he’d misheard. He couldn’t believe someone like Matsuoka had just said that.
Matsuoka chuckled. ‘Don’t look so grim. There’s the possibility the kidnapping’s a hoax. But we don’t have evidence to back it up. I’ve got people doing their best to find out, as we speak.’
‘Well, if that’s the case—’
‘Don’t push it.’ Matsuoka’s eyes glinted sharply. ‘I’m leaving the rest to you. Mobilize that pride you told me about, show me your office can handle the press.’
Mikami pulled back. Unable to meet the man’s commanding gaze, his eyes fell to Matsuoka’s torso. I’m leaving the rest to you. The words had struck him hard. It felt like someone pulling him out of a dream. Of course. Matsuoka had given him all he needed. Mikami had obtained what he’d come for. A name – Masato Mesaki. And an address. The rest – the names of the wife and daughter – they could find out for themselves. He didn’t think Matsuoka had given the order, but the words had made the decision for him.
He checked his watch. Ten minutes past eight. Get a move on. Right now, the most important task was to speed back to the Prefectural HQ. Mikami looked Matsuoka square in the face. He kicked his heels together and bowed.
‘Thank you, sir. I’ll be on my way.’
‘Before you go, I also have a request.’
He hadn’t expected that. A request?
‘I’d like to borrow Minako for the day, tomorrow.’
His surprise became astonishment.
‘I don’t have enough female officers. I need someone with normal-looking hair, in style and length.’
For the Undercover Unit, for tomorrow . . .
Mikami struggled to come up with an answer. It was true that Minako didn’t look like an officer, or even that she’d ever been in the force. And she already had experience working undercover. She’d been in the Aoi Café when Amamiya had come charging in. Mikami wanted to say yes. He wanted to help the investigation. But it wasn’t his decision. Minako couldn’t do it, not in her current state. It would be cruel to ask her to help.
Mikami was searching for a way to turn him down when Matsuoka spoke.
‘She’s stopped leaving the house, right?’
It felt like a hand had grabbed his heart. Of course. Matsuoka’s wife would have told him. And she would have found out on the phone, from Mizuki Murakushi.
‘It’ll help her to get some fresh air. I understand her need to wait by the phone . . . but I have the feeling she’ll come around if it means she can help someone.’
Mikami felt his head slump. The words were touching. He saw a vivid picture of Minako in his mind. Helping someone. Someone other than Ayumi.
‘It’s up to you both. Tomorrow at 7 a.m. Officer Nanao will be in the assembly hall in HQ.’
Mikami bit down on his lip. Nor am I clinging on to my past as a detective. He had no way of retracting his earlier statement and had no intention of doing so. But he felt the ache nevertheless.
To work for this man, just one more time . . .
66
The tornado had moved on.
But it had left Media Relations scarred. The desks and couches had been pushed against the walls. Chairs were overturned. The floor was littered with paper.