‘Nothing. She’d separated from her husband and was living by herself. They’d been married three years but had no kids. I don’t know why they ended up living apart, but it must have had something to do with her suicide. Her husband had been in the calligraphy club of a nearby boys’ school. They’d originally met during a summer getaway organized between the two clubs. They’d fallen in love and ended up getting married. From what I know, her husband was good-looking and smart, popular with the girls.
‘This next bit is just my own speculation, okay? He’d seen Minako during the same summer trip, and he’d fallen in love with her at first sight, so her friend had had to work hard to win him over. When they were first married she felt like she had all the happiness in the world. But then it started to go wrong, and she ended up by herself, started to think of suicide, and that was when she saw Minako. She wanted to leave something to get her own back. So she decided to leave that note.’
It sounded like more than empty speculation. ‘You think Minako . . . had something to do with their separation?’
‘Oh, come on, Mikami! What I’m trying to say is that having someone with Minako’s looks around all the time would have made the other girls uneasy. Even supposing the girl’s husband-to-be hadn’t fallen for Minako during their summer trip, she would still have been afraid that he would. She’d have been going crazy with the worry. Believe me, the majority of normal women have experienced that sort of thing. So do you see? She was fighting with herself. But she never realized it was all in her head. She set herself up against Minako, then she won her man and sealed her victory, ending up on a high that was ten times, a hundred times, greater than normal. Then everything fell apart . . . in just three years. I don’t know if it was something to do with him, or something else entirely, but I know she would have had so many regrets; then I suppose she gave in to despair, and started to feel hostile towards a carefree, happy-looking Minako. So maybe she decided she wanted Minako to have a taste of her own suffering.’
Carefree? Happy?
‘Why would she assume Minako was—’
‘Minako wouldn’t have known any of this was going on, not at the start, not at the end. That’s why. She wouldn’t ever have considered that they were in competition, wouldn’t have known she’d lost any lead. She would have been genuinely happy for her friend’s marriage, never in a million years considering she’d lost anything. I’m sure her friend had no reason to feel the way she did. But I don’t think she could have left such a heartless note if she hadn’t got to the point of thinking that Minako had in some way pushed her into the marriage, and been responsible for the mess that followed. She would have wanted her husband to break down in tears at her funeral, feel the guilt, all the regret and the pain. She didn’t want Minako to share in their final meeting. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to distract him from her, not even for a moment. I don’t know whether any of this is true or not, but it was still a horrible thing to do . . .’
Horrible, but understandable. Mikami understood the implication. After a moment’s silence, Mizuki started to laugh.
‘Anyway, you shouldn’t take the last bit seriously. Just my imagination running wild. Pure fancy. All I’m trying to say is Minako’s special enough for that kind of thing to be true. Believe me, I had a hard time, too. It was a nightmare when she got out of police school and got posted to work for me. I thought: Seriously? Why would someone like you want to be a policewoman? Do you want to test yourself, take pride in your job? Don’t you think you’re being a little greedy? Back when she joined, women were still treated like mascots in the force, so we were all fighting for a little more recognition. Along comes Minako, the very definition of a mascot, and we’re all crying that we don’t need any more women like that.
‘Of course, the truth was, we’d enjoyed being fussed over a little. That stopped quickly enough. The younger officers couldn’t take their eyes off Minako, and her bosses were clearly smitten, regardless of whether they were telling her off or complimenting her on a job well done. To be honest, we were beyond jealousy; most of the time it just felt like we’d had the wind taken out of our sails.’
Mizuki let out another chuckle. She’d realized she was straying from the point.
‘I’m only telling you this because of the circumstances – she was actually bullied at work. I was guilty of it, just a little. But she was strong. Took the nonsense in her stride. She lived for her job. More than most of the men, really. It was so impressive, to see someone so beautiful yet so totally unconscious of it. I realized she was a hard-working and decent person. Even then, it was difficult to feel close to her.
‘It was easy to see, watching from the sidelines, that she received special treatment. When I was feeling uncharitable, I would suspect it was all an act, that she was just pretending not to notice the effect she had on people. It wasn’t until I heard the two of you were getting married that I was able to feel a genuine affection for her. I couldn’t believe it when she told me. Actually asked if she was pulling my leg. Ah, don’t take it the wrong way, I’m not trying to imply she undersold herself or anything. You were a young detective with a bright future, and don’t forget I also knew why she’d given you the charm. That’s how it was, anyway. It was a decisive moment. Everyone relaxed around her when they learned she was taken, and by you. Everyone’s opinion of you – well, that went down the drain. They were all, Look at him, head over heels in love – he’d never looked at anything but case work.’
Mikami snorted.
He had relaxed into the story. He’d stopped wondering about the reason for Mizuki’s diversion, and had been listening to her discuss Minako’s difficult situation, and her own speculation as to what had caused it, as though he were skimming over an unpleasant scene in one of his favourite children’s stories. He felt a pleasant fatigue and warmth in his chest. Mizuki’s reflections on the past had taken the edge off his mood. If he’d looked up and seen anyone else, anyone other than the man who was approaching, he would have stayed on the phone and continued to listen to his good friend.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to talk later.’
He snapped the phone shut, pulled the key from the engine and opened the car door, the whole time keeping his eyes fixed on Futawatari.
37
Two pieces on the same board. The coincidence no longer came as a surprise.
The same seemed true for Futawatari. He continued down the house-lined street, drawing closer without a single alteration in his expression or pace. He was dressed in a suit, as usual. Did he have business with Akama? Or had he just emerged from another building? He’d been closest to the houses where Captain Tsujiuchi and Director Arakida lived when Mikami had first noticed him. It made sense if he’d been here visiting the captain. Akama hadn’t heard of the Koda memo. That meant the chances were good that Futawatari was operating under the direct orders of the captain himself.
Mikami stood waiting outside his car. When Futawatari was close enough, he called out to him.