The words were soft. It felt like the first time he was hearing the man’s real voice. Amamiya had lost his only daughter; the kidnapper was still out there. How could a man who had been through that sound so gentle?
Mikami apologized again then ended the call. He was at breaking point. His fingers were tight over the bridge of his nose. If he’d stayed on the phone any longer, he would have shed tears again.
He took a deep breath and punched himself over the chest; two, three times. There was one more call he needed to make. He cleared his throat, tried out his voice until he felt ready.
‘Honey, your voice . . .’
Minako picked up on it straight away.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Is something wrong?’
The standard question hit him harder than it usually did.
‘Sort of. I’m not going to be back tonight. Make sure you lock all the doors, and get some rest. One more thing . . .’
I should ask. Mikami tensed his stomach.
‘Matsuoka wanted you to help with something. On an investigation.’
‘Help? What investigation?’
‘There’s been a kidnapping.’ Mikami felt his voice tighten. ‘Matsuoka wants people for an undercover unit, for tomorrow.’ He heard her take a sharp breath. ‘He said he’d understand if you couldn’t help out. It’s up to you.’
‘Who . . . who was kidnapped?’
‘A seventeen-year-old girl, still in high school.’
Silence.
‘It’s fine if you want to say no; I don’t mind, and Matsuoka said the same. Only . . .’
If it means she can help someone. Mikami wanted to convey Matsuoka’s words.
Or maybe Amamiya’s . . . Not everything is bad. There’s good out there, too.
‘Minako?’
A pause.
‘Minako . . .’
‘Yes, I’ll do it.’
Mikami’s head came up. He could almost picture the determination on her face. It was because of him that she’d said it. But that was okay. It felt like progress, if only a fraction. When the phone rang immediately after he’d ended the call, he answered without even checking the display.
Maybe she’d changed her mind . . .
‘This is Futawatari.’
You had to call right now, didn’t you? The thought shot right through him.
‘What is it?’
‘Can I help with anything?’
Mikami was thrown. He waited for Futawatari to continue.
‘I heard about the kidnapping. Is there something I can do to help?’
‘No,’ he said, his thoughts picking up speed. ‘Got time on your hands?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘You sure about that?’ Mikami’s anger was flaring up. ‘Didn’t go as planned, huh?’
‘What?’
‘Admit it. You failed. You didn’t achieve anything.’
Mikami had meant the words to be a knockout blow, but Futawatari was unshaken when he replied.
‘I’ll admit, there was some miscalculation on my part.’
Miscalculation? The commissioner’s visit had been crushed by a twist of fate, a kidnapping. Was he saying he’d failed to take the possibility into account?
‘You flatter yourself. A miscalculation . . . that’s a joke. How the hell do you account for something like this in your plans?’
‘At least it ended well.’
What?
A face poked out from behind the partition; Suwa, with an urgent look. Mikami held up a hand to say he was hanging up. He spoke into the phone.
‘You’re not needed here. Go and clean the office or something.’
Suwa started to speak the moment Mikami ended the call.
‘The press – they’ve signed the agreement. The first announcement is scheduled for 11 p.m.’
69
It marked the beginning of a long night.
They shut the doors and drew blackout curtains over the windows to prevent light from leaking out. Two hundred and sixty-nine – the total number of reporters Administration had admitted to the venue.
Mikami was on the stage with Ochiai.
Testing . . . testing . . . testing. His voice crackled slightly over the wireless microphone. Kuramae, over at the entrance, raised a hand to signal that he could hear. His voice was audible throughout the room.
‘My name is Mikami, press director for the police headquarters.’
He was blinded the moment he opened his mouth. The herd of cameramen at the front had, as though conducting testing of their own, all started taking photos at once.
He took a deep breath.
‘Eleventh of December. 23:00 hours. We hereby convene our first press conference regarding the case of a kidnapping and ransom in Genbu City, in accordance with the rules and regulations stipulated in the Press Coverage Agreement. Superintendent Ochiai – Second Division Chief – will chair proceedings. We appreciate in advance your cooperation and assistance while the agreement remains in effect.’
Huh? A voice came from directly behind the line of cameramen. What do you mean, the chief of Second Division? Bring us the director, or the chief of First!
The man had a goatee, and looked to be in his mid-forties. Mikami didn’t recognize him, but Akikawa was there next to him. Slick was there, too, the man who’d been with Tejima. It was the Toyo.
Mikami whispered to Ochiai: ‘Ignore him and go ahead.’ The twenty-seven-year-old superintendent nodded, before taking his place at the centre of the long desk. Side parting. Broad forehead. Intelligent eyes. He looked honest. It was the only positive; probably his only lifeline. Mikami noticed he was trembling. Itokawa, the assistant chief of Second Division, had previously told him that Ochiai tended to crack under pressure, that he was prone to panic.
‘Thank you. I hereby begin our first announcement.’
His voice was a little high-pitched. A rustling spread through the room. Even the sound of notebooks opening seemed to carry weight when everyone did it at once. Ochiai looked down at the piece of paper in his hands.
‘For a general overview of the case details, please refer to the summaries in your hands. At the current time, there have been no further developments in the case or the surrounding investigation. Six hundred officers are engaged on work pertaining to the preliminary investigation. Five to seven detectives are already in the victim’s home, working hard on solving the case.’
Ochiai’s head came back up, the look on his face saying he had finished.
The room was silent. That’s it? They all wore the same expression. Mikami hurried from where he stood at the edge of the stage to stand behind Ochiai.
Flesh it out a little, give them some more detail. He didn’t get the chance to voice the words in his head.
‘Thank you.’
Ochiai was getting to his feet.
‘The next announcement is scheduled for 01:00 hours.’