But did that apply to the man sat next to him? He hadn’t changed. He might have been in relatively high spirits, but he was the same old loser, still unable to land a story. And the guy was having a rough time. Two months earlier, Otobe, one of the paper’s more competent chiefs, had been headhunted by the Yomiuri, leaving Yamashina to fill the position, despite his lack of experience.
The Toyo would no doubt run an exposé on the CEO of Hakkaku Construction in the next day’s morning edition. It was a big scoop, one they’d only been able to get because of their insistence on protesting to the captain. The exclusive would leave Yamashina with nothing to do but drown his sorrows, despite having agreed to Mikami’s conditions and tried to help him save face. Mikami gave a disgusted snort.
He would still make his deadline. The words were already on their way out when Yamashina started to speak.
‘Ayumi’s shoes . . . I can see they’re gone.’
Mikami stared, wide-eyed.
Still looking down, Yamashina continued. ‘You know, we can try and help, too. We know the area, we’ve got feelers all over the place . . .’ He spoke in a monotone, the words conveying any number of potential meanings. He looked up and met Mikami’s gaze.
On display were the brittle fangs of a stray mongrel, ready to break.
21
The gag order was real.
Earlier that morning Mikami had called Kusano, a contemporary who had been part of the Six Four Investigative Team. While they weren’t that close, they knew each other well enough to get a can of coffee each time they met. I’ve got something I need to ask you, concerning Yoshio Amamiya. Kusano had become flustered the moment Mikami had said the words, ending the call and saying he was on his way out.
It was Saturday – a day off for anyone who wasn’t working shifts. Mikami connected call after call. The four people he knew relatively well had all told him they were too busy to meet him. The way they’d spoken clearly suggested that they’d been ordered to keep quiet. Akusawa – the fifth person on his list – had broken into apologies the moment Mikami introduced himself. Sorry, but I can’t talk about it. No hard feelings, okay? Hearing the fear in the man’s voice, Mikami had finally been forced to admit that Criminal Investigations had decided, out of enmity or perhaps even hostility, to keep Administrative Affairs out of the loop.
The Iron Curtain.
The outmoded phrase popped into Mikami’s thoughts. He had only half believed what Itokawa had suggested in Second Division, just one day earlier, but it had all been true. And the gag order, which had seemingly originated from Director Arakida himself, wasn’t even limited to Second Division – it had permeated the entirety of First Division, too.
He shook his head and went outside to collect the post. It was usually his first task of the day to read through the morning papers, but he’d put it off until now. He skimmed through all eight papers. As expected, the headlines in the local section of the Toyo and the Times jumped out from the page.
Hakkaku Construction CEO Facing Police Questioning.
Possible Arrest Once Charges Confirmed.
Mikami felt the shame fan out inside him. The intentions behind it aside, each of the scoops had come from Media Relations, from his own mouth. He felt a wave of frustration. Akikawa’s triumphant grin. The sight of Yamashina charging off to make the morning’s deadline. He had no doubt that, for both of them, this was a morning to celebrate.
What did it mean for Media Relations?
The reporters who lost out would be grinding their teeth in frustration. They might overlook the Toyo, but they would be suspicious of the Times making the story, too, knowing its weakness when it came to Second Division cases, perhaps coming to suspect that Media Relations had played a role in the scoop.
Mikami sighed, closing the paper.
First he needed Suwa to gauge their mood. Akama’s cooling-off period applied only to him, and he would need to know how the other papers had taken the news before deciding on a strategy for the coming week.
‘Oh, you’re going in today?’ Minako called from behind him as he was getting dressed.
‘Yeah. I’ll grab a bite to eat first.’
‘Are you sure you can’t take the day off? You look exhausted.’
‘I’ll be fine, I had a good sleep. It’ll be busy – bit of a storm until the big cheese gets here.’ Mikami offered a smile, hoping not to cause his wife any unnecessary worry. His mind was already on how to breach the wall erected by the gag order. If he was to appeal to Amamiya’s good nature, he would need to get information on the man’s situation from the Investigative Team. He already knew, from the five calls he’d made earlier, that procuring the information was going to be no easy task. His connections and friendships wouldn’t be much help. There would be nothing he could do if, like Akusawa, they started to fend him off with regretful apologies. Trying to find an opening wouldn’t work; to get through the gag order he first needed to track down the real reason Criminal Investigations had seen fit to impose it.
The internal line started to ring in the corridor. When it had been set up, they’d added a long cord so Mikami could carry it into the bedroom or the living room. Mikami took the receiver in his hand, Chief Ishii and Suwa taking up equal space in his mind.
‘Sorry to call at the weekend.’ It was Assistant Chief Itokawa from Second Division. His voice across the line was muffled. ‘The article in the paper this morning, was that you?’
He had to be referring to the scoop in the Toyo and the Times.
‘Nope.’ Mikami heard a forced sigh in his ear. ‘Have they come looking yet?’
‘Four of the papers just came by; I’ve had another five on the phone.’
‘Were they angry?’
‘Yeah, frustrated, all of them.’
‘What about the boss?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Arakida, has he called yet?’
‘Not yet.’
Nothing from Arakida, who was usually on edge whenever the papers had a scoop. Mikami could assume that meant his mind was on other things.
‘Anyway, Mikami . . .’ Itokawa began to sound hesitant. ‘About our conversation, in the interrogation room. You never heard me say any—’
‘Sure,’ Mikami cut him off. ‘I didn’t get anything from you. I don’t know anything, therefore, I can’t leak anything. Okay?’
22
Mikami made a quick call to Suwa, then left the house by car. He’d decided to pay Takeshi Tsuchigane an unannounced visit. Tsuchigane was one year Mikami’s senior, and had been acting sub-leader of the Six Four investigation since spring the previous year. They had never got along, but neither did they dislike each other. And Tsuchigane was living in a home that had belonged to his grandparents; as long as the ban on communicating with Administrative Affairs remained in effect it was a risk to visit any of the detectives who lived in police dormitories, surrounded as they were by colleagues.