Six Four

With a serious profile, he strode into the main building of the headquarters. Working at the weekend. Was he headed for Administration? Personnel? Surely he wasn’t planning to barge in on Arakida and Matsuoka in Criminal Investigations?

The glass of the entrance doors flashed, reflecting light as they closed behind him. Mikami pulled his eyes away, then slowly pressed on the accelerator.





25


The only way to rationalize the size of the living room Mizuki showed him into was to remind himself she was married to a banker.

‘You’re sure this is okay, with your husband out?’

‘It’s fine, don’t be silly. Find yourself a seat while I put on some tea.’

Perhaps it was the effect of being on home territory, but Mizuki gave the overall appearance of being a little rounder than when he’d seen her a couple of weeks earlier.

‘Don’t go to any trouble. I don’t have much time either,’ Mikami said. He heard a laugh from behind the kitchen counter.

‘As self-centred as always, then.’

‘Probably a bit late for that to change.’

Mikami relaxed. There was something in Mizuki’s easy-going and frank manner that compelled him to loosen up. She had a large face with small eyes. Nothing about her fitted the definition of beauty. And that’s what’s so good. The old thought came back to him, vivid and suggestive.

‘How has Minako been since I last saw her?’ Mizuki asked, setting down a teacup and saucer. She was still working up to what she really wanted to ask.

‘You told me she called you. How did she seem?’

‘She sounded down.’

‘What did you talk about?’

‘Nothing important, I don’t think.’

Mikami felt as if she’d dodged the question. She was still debating whether or not to confide in him.

‘How is she normally?’

‘Not too bad most of the time.’

‘But not all of the time . . .?’

‘She’s a lot better than she was.’

‘Does she leave the house at all?’

‘No, that’s still the same.’

‘But you haven’t had any more calls, since the last ones?’

‘No.’

‘You know, I can’t help wondering—’ Mizuki broke off. She seemed to be thinking about something.

‘Wondering what . . .?’

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Go on.’

‘The silent calls you had. I keep asking myself . . . if they really were from Ayumi.’

It came as a painful blow. First Ikue, now Mizuki, too.

‘It was Ayumi. I’m certain of it.’

‘There’s something I kind of neglected to mention before. We had a silent call. I think it was around three weeks ago. It was a Sunday, so my husband answered; he kept saying hello but whoever was calling just stayed silent, so my husband started to shout, asking who it was, saying we were a police family, that kind of thing, but the phone just went dead after a while. Anyway, what matters is that—’

‘Just the one?’ Mikami asked, cutting her off.

‘Just the one. I don’t know, maybe finding out we were police scared them off . . .’

‘We had three calls. All on the same day. We’re not even in the directory.’

‘I know. But we’re not either, haven’t been for more than ten years. My husband . . . the way he looks, he used to worry no one would marry him. So he rushed to buy this place, even though he couldn’t afford it. And guess who fell for that . . .’

Mikami laughed, snorting through his nose. He had never seen her husband, and didn’t feel comfortable talking about him.

‘Anyway, I mentioned the phone directory and he said he’d only been listed for the first few years, that he’d had the number made private after too many of those annoying sales calls. I checked the new one over there, just to be sure, but our number definitely isn’t in there. But we still had the call. I’m sure hardly anyone has their number listed these days . . . it’s not like it used to be. It’s just hassle, there’s no upside to it.’

‘True enough.’

Stuffed on to one of the shelves of the gaudy bookcase Mizuki had pointed at was a new-looking phone directory. Hello Pages. Prefecture D, Central to East. 2002. You didn’t need to check to see it was getting thinner with each passing year. Even so, it was thicker than the North or West sections, which came attached as flimsy little supplements.

‘Do you know of anyone who might have a grudge against you?’

‘I can’t say no for sure. I’m sure some people have it in for my husband. You know, a lot of people were left without work when the bank downsized. They’d have good reason to resent the people who kept their jobs.’

‘It’s possible.’

‘But look at society these days, there are so many weird people out there, there have to be some who enjoy calling up random numbers. That reminds me: Mikumo said her parents had one, too. That was when I called her to organize a get-together for us female officers, not too long ago.’

‘Okay. Look, what are you trying to say?’ Mikami was becoming conscious of the time.

‘What . . . I’m . . . saying . . . is that it might be an idea not to fixate on the calls. The way things are going, Minako’s not going to last much longer. Mentally or physically.’

‘But they’re—’

‘I know. They’re the only evidence you have that indicates that Ayumi’s alive and well. She is alive, of course she is. She’s a daughter of the police. Officers are looking out for her across the country. They will find her. She will come home – I’m sure of it. And that’s why Minako has to take care of herself until that happens. It’s your job to support her, right? The fact that no one said anything during the calls, it’s really getting to her; she can’t handle it. She said it felt like Ayumi was saying goodbye.’

Mikami looked up to meet Mizuki’s eyes. ‘She . . . said that?’

‘Yes, when she called yesterday. It scared me a little. That’s why I thought I should tell you. You need to alter your approach a little. I think it would help if you were the one to say it – suggest the calls might not have been from Ayumi. That she would have said something if it had been her.’

Mikami blinked and saw Minako’s downcast features.

Usually desperate to hang up, she had actually used the phone to call Mizuki. On the drive over, Mikami had wondered if it was the pain of having to ID the girl’s corpse that had pushed her into making the call. Maybe he’d been half right. The silent girl underneath the sheeting had communicated nothing but ‘goodbye’.

Mizuki’s worries touched on Mikami’s greatest concern: that he couldn’t trust Minako’s outward appearance to convey the truth. Ayumi had been saying goodbye. Minako would choke on the despair if she ever decided that that was the truth.

‘Okay. I’ll think about it.’

‘Yes, please do. I’ll try calling her again, too.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’m just concerned for Minako’s happiness. I’m glad you’re letting me help.’

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