He tried to map Futawatari’s movements in his head. When he’d seen him near Akama’s house, he’d felt sure he’d been there to see Tsujiuchi, but maybe the truth was that he’d emerged from Arakida’s house across the road. That would mean he’d been there to launch an attack on the enemy camp. Arakida had then turned him away, and he’d decided he would extend his reach to the department’s alumni – unless he’d somehow got wind that Osakabe had been connected to the cover-up, and decided to make an attempt on the summit.
The line seemed to come together. Still, Osakabe was on a level far above even the other directors. Like the highest executives – albeit in a completely different way – he was, for the people of the Prefectural HQ, someone who existed above the clouds. It was unthinkable under any normal circumstances to barge into his home with the aim of extracting information. Futawatari was on a rampage. Only someone who thought himself above the other sections, part of the elite, would be capable of such a thing. Whatever his thinking, it was safe to assume the proximity of the deadline was forcing Futawatari to become more brazen.
It doesn’t matter; Osakabe won’t listen.
Mikami flicked an eye to the display on the dashboard: 4.40 p.m. Fifteen minutes since Futawatari had entered Osakabe’s home. Just as he was thinking this, Mikami saw the sedan pass in front of him. There. Mikami didn’t miss the face, caught briefly in the streetlights. Futawatari’s expression had been grave. He’d have had less than ten minutes to talk. It was no surprise. A man like Osakabe would never play host to Administrative Affairs for long.
Mikami set off towards the director’s house. He would find out what was behind Futawatari’s covert manoeuvring. Osakabe would tell him the real reason for the commissioner’s visit. It seemed likely he would know. He was party to everything that had happened, not just the contents of the Koda memo. Futawatari must have realized this; it was probably why he’d decided to visit him in person.
Mikami was in the middle of the right turn at the intersection when his phone went off in his jacket pocket. He finished the turn, then pulled up to the side of the road. It was Ishii. Mikami swore under his breath, then pressed answer.
‘What do you think you’re doing, Mikami?’ Mikami had never heard him sound so agitated.
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t pretend you don’t know. I just had a call from Director Akama. He said you’d already fixed things with Amamiya?’
Mikami realized he’d forgotten to report in after his encounter with Futawatari.
‘Sorry, a lot of things were going on.’
‘But you managed to report to Akama? What possessed you to go over my head on this? You should have called me first . . . How do you think this looks for me, having to admit I didn’t know?’
‘I’ll be more careful in the future,’ Mikami said, making it clear he was ending the conversation, but the message didn’t seem to get through.
‘You wanted to take the credit directly, I assume? I don’t know how you do things over in Criminal Investigations, but that kind of behaviour just isn’t acceptable here.’
The words just washed over him. Ishii wasn’t even on the same board.
‘There is no Criminal Investigations, no Administrative Affairs.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I’ll make sure I’m more careful in the future,’ Mikami repeated, and ended the call.
As if it matters, he muttered to himself. He flicked on his headlights and pulled back on to the road. He turned the first corner and the car’s beam fell on the vivid red of the photinia. He parked where Futawatari’s car had been and walked briskly up to the front door. He felt himself tense when he saw the name on the plate. Osakabe. His throat dried up. He hadn’t phoned ahead. He hadn’t even worked for Osakabe, not directly. On any other day, he wouldn’t have been able to push the buzzer. But this wasn’t any other day, not for the Prefectural HQ. And Osakabe had admitted a man who had no knowledge outside of Administrative Affairs – he wouldn’t turn away someone with years of experience as a detective. Mikami worked up his courage, then pushed the buzzer.
It felt like a long wait. The door finally opened to reveal the face of an elegant old woman, her white hair neatly plaited. It was the first time Mikami had seen Osakabe’s wife.
He bent forward from the waist, the form of the gesture letting her know he was from the police.
‘Please forgive the sudden intrusion. My name is Mikami. I’m with the police headquarters.’
He held out his card and Osakabe’s wife accepted it in both hands. She showed no signs of surprise at his visit, so soon after Futawatari’s.
‘Press Director Mikami?’
‘That’s right.’
‘May I ask why you’re visiting?’
‘There’s a matter I wanted to discuss with Director Osakabe, if possible.’ Director, even after retirement. That would never change.
‘Of course. If you could give me a moment while I pass on your message.’ She disappeared briefly before emerging again. ‘Please, follow me.’ She gestured for him to enter, then led him along a cool hallway before showing him into the guest room.
Mikami’s legs were as stiff as posts.
‘Sir. Thank you for agreeing to see me,’ he said, intoning clearly. He felt like a newly recruited officer again.
Osakabe was sitting next to a low table on the floor. Eight years retired. Aged sixty-eight. He’d lost a little weight around his cheeks and neck, giving him a sinewy appearance that was in line with his age, but his eyes were sharp as they regarded Mikami, and commanded no less authority than they had during his time in active duty.
‘Sit yourself down.’
Mikami obeyed, folding his knees. He declined Osakabe’s offer of a cushion and sat awkwardly in formal seiza. Osakabe folded his arms. Face to face, his presence was overwhelming.
‘Please excuse me for barging in like this. My name is Mikami, I’m in charge of Media Relations. I was assistant director in Second Division until the spring when—’
‘Just tell me why you’re here.’
‘Of course.’ Mikami forced himself to move on. ‘Inspector Shinji Futawatari was just here. I wanted to know the reason for his visit,’ he said, getting straight to the point.
Osakabe’s expression told him to continue.
‘I’m sure you know this, but the headquarters is coming apart. Criminal Investigations and Administrative Affairs are at odds with each other over the commissioner’s proposed inspection of the Six Four investigation. The commissioner is scheduled to arrive in four days, but relations are strained to breaking.’
Osakabe remained inscrutable. He looked like someone heading up a case meeting, waiting for his subordinates to finish their reports.
‘I think Commissioner Kozuka is planning to make an announcement, one that will have severe repercussions for Criminal Investigations. Futawatari is helping set the stage, asking questions of officers in the department.’
Osakabe said nothing.
‘I wondered if he might have come here with the same purpose?’
‘I told him I had no idea what he was talking about,’ Osakabe said flatly.