‘I’m just heading to the first floor.’
It was the truth – there was something he wanted to discuss with Shirota. But he was the only one who seemed to care about what he was doing. The others nodded as though they were on autopilot, and Mikami felt suddenly alone.
48
Mikami spent less than five minutes in Administration, having succeeded in his mission to obtain Futawatari’s mobile number from Division Chief Shirota. You don’t know it? Isn’t he from your intake? That was the closest Shirota got to questioning him about his enquiry. He’d shot a glance at the inspector’s desk, then tilted his head and paged through his organizer. Mikami was reminded of Shirota’s approach to office politics: don’t ask too many questions.
Mikami exited the corridor via the steel door leading to the emergency staircase. He pulled out his mobile and dialled the number he had just got. He wanted to get more on Koda before his meeting with Director Arakida. Had Futawatari managed to make contact? Did he know where Koda was now? The call went straight to voicemail. He was in a meeting with someone, perhaps. Or maybe it was his policy not to answer calls from unknown numbers. Mikami ended the call without leaving a message. It was, without exception, the caller who had the advantage. He would lose the initiative if he let Futawatari call back at his convenience.
Fine. I’ll do this empty-handed.
Mikami walked back into the corridor and started towards Arakida’s office. He still couldn’t claim to have fully merged into his title of press director. It was proving hard to maintain his cool. He decided to use the stairs and not the lift, climbing to the fourth floor on foot, but far from helping his composure he found himself increasingly conflicted. On the one hand, there was his acute mistrust of Arakida; on the other, the obligation he still felt to Criminal Investigations, tangled like original sin around his heart. Then there was his own muddied position. Come Thursday, it’ll be gone. Mikami’s thoughts spiralled as he paced along the fourth-floor corridor. It was growing dark outside, as thick clouds blotted out the sky beyond the windows – they were a mix of black and grey.
Criminal Investigations, First Division.
Mikami pushed hard on the door.
He willed Matsuoka to be in, but he wasn’t at the desk that faced the door at the back of the room. Assistant Chief Mikura craned his neck up from the next desk along. He’d joined the force a couple of years after Mikami. The discomposure that spread across his face was clear to see even from a distance. I wouldn’t say he’s got the balls of a flea. But an ant’s? Sure. Mikami recalled the way someone had once described the man.
He pointed a thumb at Arakida’s office.
‘He wanted to see me.’
Mikura got to his feet without saying anything; he hurried to the door of the director’s office and knocked. He put on a show of listening for a response, cautiously opened the door, and popped his head through. When he emerged again he said, ‘Go on in,’ without making eye contact.
The last time Mikami had entered the director’s office had been in the spring. That time, at least, he had been admitted as a detective.
‘Sir.’
Mikami bowed from the waist, having stopped a fraction before meeting the carpeted floor.
‘Ah, Mikami. Good of you to drop in,’ Arakida said breezily.
He took off his reading glasses and circled around, his imposing frame moving from his desk to one of the couches. His expression was no different to his usual one, but Mikami knew it was a thin veneer, that, like Urushibara, underneath, he would be alert and ready for battle.
‘Come on, then, no need to be formal. Take a seat.’
Mikami complied. Arakida flipped open a glass-covered box of cigarettes and offered Mikami a smoke.
‘No, thanks.’
‘What, you quit?’
‘No.’
‘Tell me, how are things?’ he prodded. Mikami cocked his head in lieu of a response. ‘The first floor, I mean. In a bit of a fluster?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’
‘Huh, right. I’m sure we only loaned you out for times like this . . .’
Mikami understood what he was trying to imply.
You’re either with us, or you don’t come back.
‘Urushibara told me you wanted to see me. What was it you wanted to ask?’
‘No need to rush. You’ll find out soon enough.’
Mikami’s discomfort was considerable. Was Arakida trying to work out how much he’d changed in the eight months since his exile from Criminal Investigations?
‘I hear things are bad in Media Relations. You been picking fights with the reporters?’
‘Actually, the biggest problem is not knowing the source of the Toyo’s leak.’
Mikami’s attempt at a subtle counter-attack caused Arakida to narrow his eyes.
‘Are you implying it was me, Mikami?’
‘Do you intend on having a chat with Akama?’
‘Did he send you to find out?’
‘No.’
‘No, I have no intention of meeting him. Why would I want to look into the face of that damned mantis? Besides, he’s small fry as far as Tokyo’s concerned. I could pressure him, and it wouldn’t change a thing.’
The third arrow would be fired at Tokyo. That was what it had sounded like. Mikami saw an image of Maejima, already on secondment to the Criminal Investigations Bureau. Would they use him? Or someone in Prefecture D?
‘Where’s Matsuoka?’
‘Hmm? Why do you ask?’
‘He wasn’t at his desk.’
‘Politics isn’t his forte, as I’m sure you know. Solving the next case is all he thinks about. He’s out visiting the Six Four team, priming the pumps even as we speak.’
Politics.
Was that what he’d said?
‘You know Matsuoka was thinking about making you a team leader?’
Mikami cut the switch to his emotions as a reflex. Still he felt flustered to see the smug look on Arakida’s face. The man’s giant frame came slowly forward, over the table. He intertwined his fingers and began to speak in a whisper.
‘Realistically, I think we could probably stretch to director, over in central. The position’s due to open up next spring.’
Mikami felt his insides lurch.
When Arakida spoke next his voice echoed throughout the room, suddenly powerful.
‘There are two matters of business.’ He’d done away with his outer skin. Before Mikami was the avaricious face of a man entrenched in war. ‘First – where is Koda?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe not. But Futawatari does.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Does Admin have Koda, yes or no?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, get out there and find out!’
Mikami said nothing. It had been more than a threat. Arakida was testing Mikami’s allegiance.
‘Who gave you orders to look for Koda?’
‘I ran into him by chance.’
‘What did you say to him?’
‘We exchanged greetings, that was all.’
‘What did you get from him?’
‘Like I said, we exchanged greetings.’
‘Why did you come here today?’
What . . .?
‘I am asking you why you came to see me today.’
‘Because you called me.’