– What the fuck am I supposed to be doing? Where is he taking me?
‘Mesaki . . . Mesaki! Stop the car for now. We should wait for the next call.’
‘Incoming call. Mesaki’s mobile.’
Another call. Multiple sets of eyes drilled into the speakers.
‘We’ve got the number. Kasumi’s mobile.’
The fifth call: 11.56.
– Keep . . . going . . . straight.
Mikami was stunned. The voice was scratchy and pinched, that of a man squeezing his windpipe as tightly as he could. He’d run out of helium. His hand was clamped around his throat. The image was graphic.
The greater surprise came next.
– Go . . . to . . . the . . . Cher— . . . Cherry Café . . . on the left, a kilometre past . . . the Ishida-cho intersection.
It was a shortcut to bring Mesaki back. With no warning, the kidnapper had designated the Cherry Café, the fourth stop of the Six Four route.
– A kilometre past the lights . . . okay! The Cherry . . . Café. I’ll find it!
Would he stick to Six Four from there? The Cherry Café would take Mesaki out of City D and into Yasugi. From there it had been right at another intersection a kilometre on to reach the Ai’ai Hair Salon on the city road. Then a left, at the next set of lights, to join the prefectural highway heading north again. Furusato Foods . . . Ozato Grill . . . Miyasaka Folk Crafts. Then, finally, the Ikkyu fishing lodge.
– Floor it . . . if you . . . want . . . to see your daughter alive. Floor it!
– Ahhhhhh!
Mikami opened his phone to the sound of Mesaki’s heart-rending screech. He hadn’t lost sight of the time: 11.57. He spoke quickly, relaying the last chunk of information to Suwa. The kidnapper instructing Mesaki to join the ring road, to make a u-turn. Mesaki complying. Leaving the prefectural highway.
That was as far as he could go.
Someone was watching him.
It was Matsuoka. His eyes were still those of a man on a case. Otherwise, he was inscrutable. Had he wanted to check that Mikami was keeping his word? Or had the look been out of pity? Maybe he really was unwell. When he’d seen Matsuoka, his eyes closed, it had seemed a real possibility. Matsuoka was leaving Ogata and Minegishi to do all the work. They were good, there was no doubt about that. Enough to make Mikami feel envious. But the command vehicle didn’t have that energy of being engaged in a hunt. The men were following the investigation with impressive finesse, but, with Matsuoka subdued, the usual burning urgency to take down the target was missing.
Did he believe it was a hoax, after all? Mikami had to wonder how he would react if they got word that the girl had turned up dead.
An alarm started to ring on someone’s watch. Midday. It happened just as the information spread among those in the back of the truck. Burly turned around, his mouth gaping wide. He was blinking in startled astonishment. Mikami felt the blood drain from his face, painfully aware of what he’d just imagined.
‘That was Station G. Kasumi’s in police custody. She’s safe, in Genbu City.’
76
The command vehicle veered sharply to one side.
They had joined the state road. Unable to decide between surprise at the unexpected development or nodding at the confirmation of a suspicion, the atmosphere inside the container hovered between both. Wait for more details. Matsuoka’s warning had also had an effect. For a while, their attention to the radio response became inattentive. Ogata and Minegishi moved sluggishly, as though their previous animation had been a mirage.
‘Details coming in,’ Pencil-face announced, holding up one side of his headphones. ‘Kasumi Mesaki is . . . she was arrested. Shoplifting. Three cosmetic products. From Strike, one of the outlet stores in Asahimachi, Genbu. The store reported the theft to a koban in West Asahimachi. The duty officer brought her in. He only discovered who she was after sitting down with her for questioning. According to her statement, she lost her phone yesterday, sometime before dawn. She’d been sleeping outside, next to the shutters of a live music venue. She said it was gone when she woke up.’
Shoplifting. Arrested. A lost phone. Mikami let out a deep exhalation. The truth had revealed itself, like the inside of a cross-sectioned watermelon. Not a hoax. Not a kidnapping. Just a plan to obtain the ransom, hatched in the wake of Kasumi’s disappearance.
The ‘kidnapper’ had played off the fact that Kasumi hardly ever showed up at home. He had stolen her phone, made the calls demanding the ransom, convinced her parents that he’d abducted her. All the while, he’d been following Kasumi around. If she reported her lost property to a koban . . . If she went home . . . In either case, he’d have had to call off his plan. That was why he’d had to stick around the busy areas near the main station – because he’d been following her from one place to the next. Then, earlier this morning, his fears had come true, unexpectedly so. Kasumi had been stealing from an outlet store in Asahimachi. He’d seen her do it, realized the staff would probably pick up on what she was doing. That was why he’d tried to bring the schedule forwards. He’d rushed into the store toilets and, having checked that no one was coming or going, had sucked in some of the helium already concealed in his bag and made the call to Mesaki’s home phone. Deciding it was all or nothing, he’d set his ransom plan in motion. As he’d feared, Kasumi had been caught shoplifting. She’d probably been escorted to a back office. Seeing this, the kidnapper had told Mesaki to take a shortcut. He’d sent Mesaki from the ring road to the state road, abandoning his intention to trace the whole Six Four route starting from the Aoi Café. Following the initial change in plan, he would have given the remaining instructions from his car in the store’s parking area. That explained the disappearance of the echo. It had to be from the car, to ensure no one overheard his helium-altered voice. And there was another reason why he’d had to wait in the parking area . . .