No . . .
The kidnapper isn’t female. That was what Mikami’s intuition had told him the moment he’d heard the helium-altered voice. He hadn’t been able to tell the gender outright, but it had been clear from the kidnapper’s way of speaking, from the aggressive but not overstated tone, the mix of threat and restraint, that the speaker wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl. If it was a joke, an act she was putting on, she would have to be in it with an experienced, and male, accomplice.
‘Let me see that.’
Mikami glanced at one of the screens over Matsuoka’s shoulder. Brought up on the display was a map of the general area of the call, centred around Yuasa-cho and Asahimachi. At Matsuoka’s request, Pencil-face zoomed in on the image. Yuasa-cho appeared mostly residential. The surprise was Asahimachi. It was located right next to Nagimachi, the area of the second call from the day before. Not part of the red-light district but crowded all the same. Lining the city road as it crossed the district were large out-of-town supermarkets, home-appliance stores, bowling alleys, outlet stores and a few of the large national chains selling business suits and shoes.
Out for a good time. The three areas seemed at first to shore up the idea of the kidnapping being a hoax. There were, of course, other explanations. The kidnapper was using the bustle to hide. Keeping near a train station to ensure an easy getaway should the need arise. Mikami couldn’t decide. Was it a hoax? A genuine kidnapping? It was impossible to draw a conclusion either way.
‘Sir, he’s passing us now,’ Ogata said. His finger was pointing towards one of the rear monitors. A white coupé, listing slightly towards the centre of the road. Fifty metres back. Still too far to make out the driver’s face.
‘Put us in the right-hand lane,’ Minegishi instructed the driver over the radio.
A moment later, the vehicle drew smoothly towards the central division. The reason for the change became immediately clear. With the fast lane blocked, Mesaki had pulled left; he was overtaking on the inside. The driver’s side was next to the command vehicle – they’d be able to see him close up.
All eyes turned to the monitors showing the left side of the vehicle. The moment they saw the white coupé pull up alongside them, it was gone.
But . . .
They’d had enough time to get a clear view of Mesaki’s profile.
He’d been bent forwards, bunched over the steering column, his face all but pressed against the windscreen. Forwards. Forwards. His eyes had been glaring at something in the far distance. His teeth were bared, clenched tight, his gums bright red. He was a man on a warpath, a fire that was out of control. The expression had contrasted starkly with that of Yoshio Amamiya, who had looked as though his blood had frozen over.
Mikami shivered, feeling the tangible connection to the case. Mesaki was a fireball heading to a single destination. The Aoi Café.
‘Sir . . .’
Matsuoka’s eyes were still focused on the monitor. Pursuit 1 and Pursuit 2 were next to overtake the command vehicle. The camera picked up their fleeting eye contact.
‘. . . is Minako at the Aoi Café?’
‘No.’
‘Where is she posted?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Mobile Command, this is Pursuit 1.’
‘Why not?’
‘This is Mobile Command, go ahead.’
‘She’s working with Special Operations.’
Mikami pulled back slightly. Minako, with Special Operations?
‘We have a green at the Katayama-cho 3-chome intersection. Mesaki’s through.’
‘Copy.’
‘What’s she doing?’
‘It’s Special Ops. I can’t tell you.’
‘I’m her husband.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Is it dangerous?’
‘No, she’ll be fine.’
Mikami regretted asking. Matsuoka had cooled since he’d said Kasumi’s name. Although . . . maybe it wasn’t just with him. The man’s responses were increasingly terse, even with the others. And he hadn’t issued any instructions since the lights. He was thinking in silence, looking almost lethargic, most of the time keeping his eyes closed. Was he sick? Mikami realized Matsuoka was starting to worry.
He jumped when he saw the time. 11.35. As it took a while to get past Burly, he should start towards the rear of the hold. He moved quickly, pushing forwards and past the man blocking the walkway. He opened his mobile; the moment the display switched to 11.36 he hit the button to dial Suwa’s mobile. Probably already waiting, Suwa answered before the phone had a chance to ring.
The background was still noisy, but this time they were able to talk normally.
‘The kidnapper made a third call to Mesaki’s home,’ Mikami said without pausing.
‘Right! What time?’
‘Twenty minutes ago. Wait . . . hang on. No. The call was at 11.13.’
Checking the numbers in his notebook, Mikami felt a rush of blood to his head. Damn it. Idiot. Why didn’t I use the time the call actually came in?
‘Sir? Hello . . .?’
‘Sorry. I’ll give you the details. Take this down.’
‘Go ahead.’
Mikami related the details of the call. Helium. Money and a phone. Aoi Café by 11.50.
‘But . . . 11.50? It’s almost 11.50 now. It’s already thirty-seven minutes past.’
‘I know.’
‘So Mesaki’s already on his way?’
‘That’s right. He left the house at eleven fifteen.’
‘Where is he now? Is he in City D?’
Mikami managed to catch himself. ‘I can’t say. I’ve got to wait twenty minutes.’
‘Twenty minutes? I don’t . . .’
‘There has to be a time lag. I got in here on that condition.’
‘Right, of course . . . okay. But you can tell me first, can’t you?’
‘Incoming call. Mesaki’s mobile.’ Burly spoke up again. ‘The caller is . . . using Kasumi’s mobile. Patching it through.’
‘Sir?’
‘I have to hang up. Just bear with me on this.’
The kidnapper’s fourth call. The sound of the ringing resonated through the hold. Mesaki answered immediately.
– This is Mesaki. What is it?
His voice was close to a shriek.
– Turn right at the Katayama-cho 3-chome intersection, join the ring road.
Mikami couldn’t believe it. They’d just passed the intersection at 3-chome. Which meant Mesaki’s car had . . .
– The 3-chome intersection? But I’m . . . I’ve already passed it!
A pause followed.
– Make a u-turn, right now.
– You want me to turn around? Okay, yes . . .
Was the kidnapper hoping to throw them off course, moving to an original script now the police were convinced it was a copycat crime? Or had something happened to force the kidnapper into making a quick revision of the plan? Whatever the case, Mesaki speeding through all the lights had been unexpected. The brief silence that followed Mesaki’s answer had highlighted the kidnapper’s surprise and disbelief.