Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  ‘He ran?’

  ‘That’s what the police thought. That’s what they still think.’ Sasagaki opened his travel bag and pulled a folded flier out of it. He spread it open on the table and showed it to Imaeda. Beneath the familiar Have you seen this man? headline was a picture of a man in his fifties, his hair slicked back across his head. Beneath that was a name: Isamu Matsuura.

  ‘I’ll ask just in case, but have you ever seen this man?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’

  ‘I didn’t think you would have,’ Sasagaki said, folding the paper and putting it back in his bag.

  ‘So you’re after this Matsuura guy?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Imaeda stared Sasagaki in the eyes, but the detective merely gave him a knowing smile.

  With a start, Imaeda realised what it was that had been nagging him since Sasagaki started talking about Super Mario Bros. Why would a detective in homicide care about someone pirating a game? That was what he meant about the police ‘thinking’ Matsuura had run. Apparently, this detective thought he was dead – murdered. He wasn’t looking for Matsuura, he was looking for Matsuura’s body, and whoever killed him.

  ‘Does this guy have something to do with Yukiho Karasawa?’

  ‘Nothing direct. At least, not that I know of.’

  Imaeda shook his head. ‘OK, I’ll admit it. I’m confused. Why should I care about any of this?’

  ‘There was a man with Matsuura who disappeared at the same time he did,’ Sasagaki said. ‘It’s highly likely this other man was involved in pirating the game as well. And…’ The detective paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘He’s likely to be somewhere near Yukiho.’

  ‘Near her?’ Imaeda said. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Exactly what it sounds like. He’s hiding somewhere. Have you ever heard of something called a pistol shrimp?’

  ‘You mean shrimp, like in the ocean?’

  ‘That’s right. The pistol shrimp digs out a little hole to live in. But every once in a while, something else comes and sets up camp in the shrimp’s hole – a little fish, called a goby. The goby isn’t a freeloader, however. In exchange for a place to live, he hangs out at the entrance to the hole and wags his tail whenever enemies approach, letting the shrimp know what’s coming. It’s what biologists call a symbiotic relationship.’

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ Imaeda said, holding out his left hand. ‘Are you saying that there’s a guy working with Yukiho Karasawa?’

  If there was, the ramifications would be huge – but Imaeda didn’t believe it. He’d been on her case for more than a month now, and never seen any sign of a collaborator.

  Sasagaki grinned. ‘It’s just a theory,’ he said. ‘I have no proof.’

  ‘Surely you have something you’re basing this on?’

  ‘Call it the intuition of a detective past his prime. It’s not a horse I recommend putting any money on.’

  He’s lying, Imaeda thought. He has proof, solid as a rock. Proof enough to bring him all the way up here to Tokyo.

  Sasagaki opened his bag again and pulled out a photograph. ‘How about this man? Ever see him?’

  He put the photograph on the desk and Imaeda reached out for it. The man was facing directly towards the camera. It looked like a photo taken for a driver’s licence. He was about thirty years old, with a pointed chin.

  The face looked familiar. Imaeda tried not to let his expression show it as he tried to think back to where he’d seen it before. He had a good memory for faces, but sometimes it took a little while to put everything together.

  He stared at the photo for a few seconds more and, like that, the fog lifted. He knew exactly who he was looking at: alias, occupation, most recent address, everything. He almost yelped out loud, it was so unexpected, but he managed to restrain himself.

  ‘Is this the guy working with Yukiho Karasawa?’ he asked, taking care his voice remained casual.

  ‘Maybe,’ Sasagaki said with a shrug. ‘You’ve seen him?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Imaeda replied, ‘but maybe not.’ He held the photo up and took a closer look. ‘You mind if I take this into the next room? I want to check my files.’

  ‘What do you think you’ll find?’

  ‘I’ll bring it right back. Wait here,’ Imaeda stood without waiting for Sasagaki’s answer. He hurried into the next room, locking the door behind him.

  This room was originally designed to be a bedroom, but he often used it as a dark room for developing monochrome photos. He pulled a Polaroid camera off the shelf. Then, placing the photograph he got from Sasagaki on the floor, he looked through the viewfinder on the camera, and bent his knees to get the focus right. Adjusting the lens would take too much time.

  At just the right height, he pressed the shutter, and the flash filled the room with light.

  Imaeda pulled the film out and put the camera back on the shelf. Then, shaking the developing picture in one hand, he pulled a thick file off another shelf. This file contained all the photographs he’d taken during his investigation of Yukiho Karasawa. He checked through quickly, making sure there was nothing in it that would get him in trouble if he showed it to Sasagaki.

  He glanced down at his watch, checking that enough time had passed before peeling off the top paper. It was a perfect reproduction – he could even see the tiny specks of dust that had been on the original.

  Placing his new photo in a desk drawer, Imaeda opened the door and took the original photograph and his file back into the room where the detective was waiting.

  ‘Sorry, my mistake,’ he said, placing the file on the desk. ‘The face looked familiar, but looking through this I realised I was mistaken.’

  ‘What’s this file?’ Sasagaki asked.

  ‘Everything I have on Yukiho Karasawa. There’s not many pictures, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Might I take a look?’

  ‘Go right ahead. Just, I’m not at liberty to tell you much about them.’

  Sasagaki took out each of the photographs in the file and looked them over carefully. There were photos of the streets near the house where Yukiho Karasawa had grown up, and some shots he had taken of her broker without the man’s knowledge.

  When he had finished looking at them all, the detective looked back up. ‘Some interesting photos in here.’

  ‘See any you like?’

  ‘I was just wondering why someone investigating a potential bride would need photos of her visiting a bank.’

  ‘You’ll just have to use your imagination on that one.’

  In fact, he had taken pictures of the bank because Yukiho had a safe deposit box there. He’d discovered this when following her one day. The reason he took pictures of her going in and coming out was to see if there was anything different about her appearance. For example, if she came out wearing a necklace she hadn’t been wearing when she went in, that would suggest she’d kept the necklace in a safe deposit box. It was a very primitive way of checking on someone’s most valuable possessions.

  ‘I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you,’ Sasagaki said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If, in your investigation, you should come across this man’ – here, he held up the photograph – ‘if you should see or hear of him, I want you to tell me. As quickly as you can.’

  Imaeda looked between the photo and Sasagaki’s wrinkled face. ‘OK, but there’s something I need to know,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What’s his name? And where’s the last place he lived?’

  For the first time, Imaeda noticed a look of hesitation pass across the detective’s face.

  ‘If you find him, I’ll give you more information about him than you ever wanted to know.’

  ‘All I want now is his name and his address.’

  Sasagaki looked at Imaeda for a few seconds before nodding. Then he pulled a single sheet of paper off the memo pad on the desk and wrote something on it before placi
ng it in front of Imaeda. It read:

  Ryo Kirihara

  LIMITLESS

  2-42-12 Nihonbashi, Chuo Ward, Osaka

  ‘What’s Limitless? Some kind of company?’

  ‘A computer shop. Ryo was the manager.’

  Sasagaki wrote out another note with his own name and phone number on it.

  ‘Sorry to take up so much of your time,’ the detective said. ‘I believe you said you had work to get to?’

  ‘No problem,’ Imaeda replied, unconcerned that the detective had called his bluff. ‘I was wondering, though. How did you know I was investigating Yukiho Karasawa?’

  Sasagaki smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll figure that one out the next time you’re out and about.’

  ‘Out and about? You mean walking around, listening to my radio?’ Imaeda made a motion like he was twisting the dial on his wiretap detector.

  ‘Radio? I’m not sure I follow,’ Sasagaki said, looking honestly confused.

  ‘Nothing, forget I mentioned it.’

  Sasagaki stood and walked towards the door, using his umbrella as a kind of cane. Just before he opened the door, he turned back around. ‘I’m sure you don’t need to hear this from me, but if I ever met him, I’d have a word of advice for the person who asked you to look into Yukiho.’

  ‘Yes?’

  Sasagaki’s lips curled into a smile. ‘Steer clear of that woman. Yukiho Karasawa is trouble.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Imaeda said. ‘He knows.’

  Sasagaki gave a satisfied nod and walked out the door.

  A group of women on their way home from some kind of community college class had taken over two of the tables. Imaeda considered changing locations entirely, but the person he was going to meet had probably already left the office, so he made do with the table furthest from the noise. He’d hoped that, with it being already one-thirty in the afternoon, the café would be relatively empty. Clearly he was wrong, and this was the spot for a late lunch after class let out. He’d remember that in the future.

  Imaeda had only taken a few sips of his coffee when his old colleague walked in. Hitoshi Masuda looked a little thinner than he had when they last worked together. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and a navy-blue tie and carrying a large envelope in one hand.

  Masuda spotted Imaeda immediately and walked over to the table.

  ‘Long time no see,’ he said, sitting across from him, but when the waitress came to take his order he told her, ‘No, thanks, I’ll be heading right back out.’

  ‘Busy as always, I see,’ said Imaeda.

  Masuda shrugged. He was clearly in a foul mood. He set the brown paper envelope on the table. ‘This what you wanted?’

  Imaeda took the envelope and examined its contents. He counted more than twenty sheets of letter-sized paper. He scanned the papers and gave a deep nod. Everything looked familiar. Some of the sheets he had even written himself.

  ‘This is it. Thanks.’

  ‘Look,’ Masuda said, leaning closer, ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but please don’t ask me to do this again. You know the rules against sharing office documents with someone outside.’

  ‘I know, sorry. This is the only time I’ll ask.’

  Masuda stood, but he didn’t immediately leave. ‘Why do you need those now, anyway?’ he asked, looking down at Imaeda. ‘You find the missing piece to some old puzzle?’

  ‘No. Just something I needed to check. That’s all.’

  ‘Right, whatever,’ Masuda said, walking away. It was clear he didn’t believe Imaeda in the least, and also clear he knew better than to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

  Imaeda waited for him to leave before looking back at the documents. Three-year-old memories resurfaced in his mind. The pages were a copy of the report they had done on behalf of the client from Tozai Automotive – an investigation that had run up against a brick wall when they were unable to determine the true identity of the Memorix employee suspected of data theft: Yuichi Akiyoshi. They’d never found out his real name, his real work history, or even where he was from.

  Thus Imaeda’s surprise when Sasagaki had shown him a picture of Akiyoshi the other day, calling him ‘Ryo Kirihara’.

  Managing a computer shop fitted Akiyoshi’s profile, and the date of Ryo’s disappearance from Osaka roughly matched the timing of Akiyoshi’s arrival at Memorix.

  At first, Imaeda thought it was just a coincidence. The longer you did this kind of work, the greater the chances were that you’d run into the same people from an old case under completely unrelated circumstances.

  Yet, as he thought things through, he realised it couldn’t be unrelated. On the contrary, the request from Tozai Automotive and his current investigation were deeply intertwined at their very roots.

  For one thing, the entire reason Shinozuka had asked him and not another PI to investigate Yukiho Karasawa was because he had run into Makoto Takamiya at the golf driving range. And the reason he went to that particular range was because, three years earlier, he had followed Akiyoshi there. That was when he’d first taken note of Makoto, who was clearly in a relationship with the woman Akiyoshi had been following, Chizuru Misawa, despite the fact that Makoto was already married to Yukiho at the time.

  Detective Sasagaki had suggested that Ryo Kirihara and Yukiho Karasawa were somehow working together, and Imaeda wasn’t buying the detective’s claim that it was just a theory. He decided to reassess his investigation of three years earlier with the premise that Ryo and Yukiho did in fact have some kind of covert connection.

  This hardly required any deep thinking at all: the connection was obvious. Yukiho’s husband worked at Tozai Automotive in the Patent Licensing Division, a position with access to internal company data. He would have had both the ID and the password to access top-secret data on the company’s systems. Imaeda had no doubt that Makoto took this responsibility seriously, but would he extend a wary eye to his wife? Couldn’t she have got access to his ID and password somehow?

  Three years ago, Imaeda and his team had been looking for a connection between Akiyoshi and Makoto, and found nothing. Which made sense, because the person they should have been watching was Yukiho.

  Another question occurred to Imaeda at this point. Why had Akiyoshi, aka Ryo, been so interested in Chizuru? Was it because of her relationship with Makoto?

  He could imagine a scenario where Yukiho had asked him to investigate her husband’s infidelity. But why would she ask Ryo to do something like that? It would make more sense to go to a private investigator. Also, if he had been investigating Makoto’s infidelities, why was he watching Chizuru? It had to mean that he already knew she was Makoto’s lover. But if they knew that, why keep investigating at all?

  As he leafed through the copy of the report, another curious thought occurred to Imaeda. It had been early April when Ryo first visited the Eagle Golf Driving Range in pursuit of Chizuru. But that day Makoto hadn’t been there. Then, two weeks later, Ryo paid another visit to the driving range. This was the first time that Imaeda’s team had spotted Makoto being on familiar terms with Chizuru.

  That was also, to their knowledge, the last time Ryo ever visited the range. Except, Imaeda’s team had continued observing Makoto and Chizuru, watching their relationship deepen. By the time their investigation had been called off at the beginning of August, the two were deep into an affair.