Six Four

‘Ah yes, that was about the renovation of the headquarters. The work’s coming up next summer, so we’re getting to the point when we need to start thinking about temporary offices. We’re probably not going to be able to avoid having two different sites, so the first thing to decide is where we’re going to locate the captain. As you know, the captain’s office determines the official address of the police headquarters . . .’

Ishii lacked the ability to lie coherently. Mikami doubted he could have answered so fluently if the two had really been in covert discussions concerning Six Four. Which probably meant it was taking place over Ishii’s head. Futawatari was acting on direct orders from Akama. That seemed the more likely scenario, especially when you factored in his status as Akama’s right-hand man.

‘Anyway, I was planning to call you. How did it go with Amamiya? Were you able to sort everything out?’

The question brought Mikami’s thoughts back to the present. He had bad news to report. He straightened himself and lowered his voice a little.

‘I’m planning to concentrate on that tomorrow. We have a bigger problem though – there’s been a complication with the press.’

‘What kind of complication?’ Mikami saw a hint of fear cross Ishii’s eyes.

‘It’s the issue of anonymity. They’ve threatened to submit a written protest to the station captain.’

‘To the captain?’ The colour seemed to drain from Ishii’s face. ‘That’s . . . you’re joking?’

‘I’m afraid not, sir.’

‘No. Absolutely not – you absolutely cannot let that happen.’

‘It was the consensus after a full meeting.’

‘No, we can’t have that. We can’t have that at all. You have to talk them out of it.’

He reminded Mikami of a child having a tantrum. He seemed on the verge of tears. ‘They did say they would be willing to reconsider, on the condition that we give them the woman’s identity.’

‘That . . . no, that’s out of the question. The director would never stand for that.’

‘But it’s better than them barging into the captain’s office in protest. There could be consequences for the commissioner’s visit.’

‘Yes, well, of course. But it was Akama’s decision to keep her identity from the press.’

Akama’s decision? The accident had taken place in the jurisdiction of Station Y. The decision to conceal her identity had come from them. Mikami had never suspected otherwise.

‘Sakaniwa called to discuss it, but it was Akama’s decision.’

Right, that made sense.

Sakaniwa was Ishii’s predecessor, now the captain of Station Y. He’d been here in the Secretariat until the spring. There wasn’t an officer in the headquarters who didn’t know the story. He had devoted himself utterly to serving Akama; as a reward, Akama had promoted him to captain, in command of a hundred and thirty officers at Station Y, letting him bypass a number of steps on the career ladder.

Sakaniwa had delegated his decision. No doubt having concluded that the best way to protect himself was to report the incident upwards, he had turned to Akama for advice. Mikami had to admit, that did make it more difficult. Akama wasn’t the type to let an underling’s opinion sway a personal decision. Even suggesting he reconsider was likely to send him into a rage. In which case. Mikami decided to push his next idea. The one that had come to him on his way to the office.

‘What if we give them her identity, but unofficially? Without committing it to writing.’

This is just me talking to myself here, but . . .

A while ago, this had been the stock phrase for when a detective slipped the press a tidbit to feed on. Mikami could claim he was talking to himself as he gave them verbal confirmation of Hanako Kikunishi’s name. It was a stop-gap, there was no doubt about that, but it still qualified more as accommodation than capitulation. The force would get by without losing face. Nothing would remain in writing, there would be nothing that could establish a precedent – it would end at one man having muttered something to himself.

‘I suppose it’s an idea . . . I wonder what Akama would say.’ Ishii sighed weakly.

‘Can you put it forward, suggest it?’

‘Okay. But he’s already left for today, a visitor from Tokyo. When would you need an answer by?’

‘Before four o’clock tomorrow.’

‘Fine. I’ll bring it up tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t say which side he’ll fall on, so either way you need to work on bringing the press into line. If the worst comes to the worst and they still insist on the written protest, you need to make sure the buck stops with you or me.’ Large beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead. ‘I’m counting on you for this, Mikami. Keep it in mind that the captain isn’t just any old person.’

The sentence caused an image of the captain’s face to pop into Mikami’s mind, vague and indistinct. He had already known their captain was special. Kinji Tsujiuchi. Forty-four, two years younger than Mikami. He had come to the Prefectural HQ after having worked as chief in the NPA’s Accounts Division. His next step would be to return to Tokyo in the spring, taking over as chief of the Personnel Division. All organizations were the same, the police included. You climbed to the top by gaining control over the money, then the people. As such, Kinji Tsujiuchi was currently regarded as the NPA’s next in line when it came to taking over the seat of commissioner general.

The next candidate for commissioner general, surrounded by reporters fresh out of university forcing a written protest into his hands. It would be a disaster. It simply couldn’t be allowed to happen.

‘Is something funny?’

Mikami’s head came up in surprise. Ishii’s mouth was a tight line.

‘What?’

‘You were grinning, just then.’

Mikami didn’t think he’d been grinning.

‘Look, you need to take this seriously. I’m trusting you to keep this from getting out of hand.’

Mikami replied with a perfunctory nod before excusing himself from the room. The lamp was still on, signaling that the captain was there.

He realized what it was the moment he stepped outside into the corridor. A disaster, one that can’t be allowed to happen. He had laughed at himself for having considered it that way. At his core, Ishii was no different to Captain Sakaniwa. He had offered up his soul to Akama and Tsujiuchi; now he spent his days playing it safe, lost in dreams of the promotional transfer he would probably receive in the next year or two. He wasn’t afraid of failure, only that his superior officers might deem him as one. That was why Mikami had been grinning – at having sat with a man like that, for having tried to think up a solution from his perspective.

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