‘Have you ever heard of the Koda memo?’
‘The Koda memo? I don’t think so. Is that something Koda wrote?’
‘Forget I said it,’ Mikami said, avoiding her gaze as he made his way to the door.
‘Try not to be too . . . distant, okay?’ Mizuki’s voice chased him from behind. ‘Right now you’re all Minako’s got. She’s totally dependent on you.’
For whatever reason, Mikami found it hard to be thankful for the advice.
‘Thanks for your time.’
‘Call again, okay?’
Mikami thought he saw a hint of pride in the woman’s small eyes and wondered if it was because she’d managed to keep her and Minako’s secret for another day.
26
Dead leaves swirled around Mikami’s feet as he made for the car.
The kind of man who cried in front of others. Sentimental. It wouldn’t be hard to get him to talk. Mikami sank into the driver’s seat, feeling encouraged. He used his mobile to call Minamikawa. Two years Mikami’s junior, Minamikawa worked in the Prefectural HQ’s forensics division. He and Mikami shared the same hometown, and they went out for drinks a couple of times each year.
‘Hello?’
‘Minamikawa, it’s Mikami. Sorry for the weekend call.’
‘No problem . . . how are things?’
His voice had grown tense. Mikami continued with a sinking feeling.
‘I’ve got something I need to ask you. One of your lab staff – Hiyoshi; glasses. Do you know his address and phone number?’
‘No, sorry.’
‘Really? You don’t know it?’
‘I don’t work with those guys.’
‘Stop messing around. I know you’re all like family over there.’ Mikami tried to sound confident, but he could already feel his shoulders sagging. Even Forensics had been told to keep away from Administrative Affairs.
‘If you’ve been told not to say, at least admit it.’
‘Fine – I’m not allowed to say anything.’
‘When did they come around?’
‘Yesterday. Out of nowhere.’
‘And they didn’t tell you why, I suppose?’
‘Do you know what this is about, Mikami? I’d like to know if you do.’
‘Ask Arakida.’
Mikami snapped his mobile shut and started the car. He didn’t have the luxury of waiting until Monday. He would contact the head of Forensics, get Hiyoshi’s address, then go and see him in person before the day was out. He could no longer trust the department’s neutrality, but he could hope that the head proved to be more amenable – as an academic – than the others.
Mikami was back at HQ in seven minutes. The detective on duty leaned briefly from his window, surprised to see Mikami for a second time in one day. Mikami ignored him and walked into the room; he opened the box containing the keys. The one for Media Relations was missing from its hook. Someone on his staff was in the building. He stole a glance at the hook for Administration. Not there. Futawatari was still in.
Mikami made his way down the corridor, half dark due to the energy-saving policy. He walked into Media Relations. As expected, he saw Mikumo, sitting at the desk closest to the door. She got quickly to her feet. She was wearing full uniform.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Sir. The deadline’s almost up for the bulletin. I thought I could come in and get a little done now.’
Her desk was littered with proofs and photos, all for the press bulletin. Mikami didn’t doubt that her schedule had suffered because of the problems they were having with the press, but it seemed unlikely that that was the only reason behind her deciding to come in on a weekend.
‘Sorry I had to call earlier.’
‘Not at all, that’s fine.’
‘Call Kuramae, get him to come in and help.’
Mikami sat at his desk and unlocked the bottom drawer. He pulled out a list of phone numbers for officers and staff in executive-level accommodation and began to go through it. Inomata, Head of Forensics. The sheet contained both his private and work numbers. The internal line would be best. Mikami doubted Inomata would be able to place him from a name if he called his private number. Using the internal line would put Inomata into a state of readiness; Mikami would only need to introduce himself as press director before moving straight on to his questions. He reached for the phone on his desk. As he did, he became aware of Mikumo’s profile. It’s nothing she can’t overhear. Reassuring himself, Mikami dialled the number.
After a few rings, Inomata picked up the phone. He seemed perhaps five years Mikami’s senior.
‘Please accept my apologies for disturbing your weekend. This is Press Director Mikami.’
‘Not a problem. What can I do for you?’
He came across as a good-natured old man.
‘There’s something I need to confirm, if possible. Would you be able to give me the address of someone on your staff? His name is Hiyoshi.’
‘Hmm? I don’t remember anyone with that name working for me.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Mikami raised his voice before he could stop himself. He looked up at Mikumo. She was busy moving her pen, her face over her desk. Mikami pulled the mouthpiece closer. ‘Are you positive?’
‘If the head of Forensics hasn’t heard of him, I’m quite sure he doesn’t exist. Perhaps there’s been some kind of mistake? A mix-up with another department, something like that?’
Mikami was listening for signs of the Iron Curtain, but could pick up nothing out of the ordinary in the way Inomata was speaking.
‘And you haven’t had any transfers? Anyone who moved on to something else?’
‘Not since I started here; not one.’
That was when Mikami realized something. It was only seven or eight years ago that Inomata had moved into his current position. The HQ had headhunted him from the Prefecture D Institute of Technology, having set up the role specially.
‘Forgive the question, but could you remind me when you joined us?’
‘Eight years ago . . .’
‘And you’re absolutely sure there wasn’t anyone here by that name?’
‘I’m not senile quite yet.’
He sounded a little affronted. Ignoring this, Mikami asked his next question.
‘In which case, I’m very sorry to have to trouble you, but could I ask you to check with the staff rota from fourteen years ago?’
‘Sorry? Staff rota . . . fourteen years ago?’
‘Please. I believe, as head of the division, it should be in your possession.’
‘Well, I must say it’s a bit sudden . . . Don’t you have that in the main building?’
‘No. We don’t maintain a comprehensive list in case of religious cults or the extreme left getting their hands on it.’
‘I see . . . of course.’
The confidence had drained from his voice. Seeing his opportunity, Mikami chose to press the matter. ‘Speed is of the essence. If you can’t find the rota, you’ll need to try something else. Maybe you can ask someone on your staff who might know. I would appreciate it if you called me – Mikami in Media Relations – the moment you have an answer.’
‘Ah . . . of course. I’ll try asking someone.’