“You're absolutely sure?”
Machiko nodded jerkily, like a badly made robot. “I bought it for her to congratulate her on finding a job, so I'm sure it's hers.” She brought both her hands to her mouth. Her hands were shaking. Only her eyes moved as she looked at Sakaki. “I told you before, didn't I, Detective Sakaki? That she had a Louis Vuitton bag.”
Sakaki nodded, and said encouragingly, “Yes, I remember. That was when you described her clothes and belongings at the time of her disappearance, wasn't it? So is this the same Louis Vuitton bag?”
Machiko nodded, her eyes darting restlessly in her confusion. She was fearful and trembling, and while she confirmed the items were Mariko's she wasn't quite registering what that meant.
“Why was it in Okawa Park, of all places─” she started, but at that moment Torii placed the last item on the table.
It was the commuter pass holder, lying open inside a plastic bag. Yoshio read, “Mariko Furukawa. Yurakucho─Higashi-Nakano.” It wasn't brand new, but it was still new enough. The wine-colored leather holder that had marked Mariko's passage into the working world.
“It's hers, isn't it?” murmured Machiko, so quietly that you could only hear it if you put your ear up close. “Why was this in Okawa Park? What happened to Mariko?” she asked, to no one in particular.
None of the three officers responded. Sakaki looked at Yoshio, as if seeking his help.
“It seems nobody knows yet,” Yoshio said slowly, placing his hand on her arm. “They don't even know if it has anything to do with the Okawa Park case or not yet. But it was found in a trash can, and so they came to confirm whether or not it was Mariko's.
“Trash can?” Mariko stared vacantly at Yoshio. “Dad, Mariko would never throw her own handbag into a trash can!”
“I guess not.”
The blood drained from Machiko's face, her crows' feet and patches of dry skin standing out brutally on her pale face. The backs of her hands, too, were emaciated, the skin blotchy and rough. Yoshio recalled the time when his daughter had been beautiful. This wasn't just a parent's indulgence, she had been the best-looking girl in the neighborhood. It was as though with every year that passed, she siphoned off a bit more of her beauty into Mariko, the daughter she had raised with such care.
“As you say, Mr. Arima, we don't yet know how or even whether this is connected to the murder case,” Torii said. “All I can say is that with this discovery your daughter's disappearance is now possibly a criminal investigation. I'm sorry to bother you again, but can I please ask you to tell us once more about the circumstances around your daughter's disappearance?”
“Mariko's … disappearance?”
“Yes, that's right.”
“Dad,” Machiko said to Yoshio, her eyes still glued to the items on the table. “I don't know. What should I do? What should I say?”
Torii was struggling to contain his irritation, and Yoshio started feeling angry with him. But first he had to calm Machiko down. If things carried on like this, Machiko might actually have a nervous breakdown.
“It's okay. Go and wash your face, will you?”
“But …”
“It's okay, don't worry.”
When he helped Machiko get up, the policewoman stood up too. “Are you okay? The washroom is over there, isn't it?” she asked Machiko, taking hold of her arm to steady her. Sinking back in his chair, Yoshio watched as the two of them made their way slowly through the kitchen to the washroom.
“As you can see, my daughter is in shock,” he said to Torii. “All morning she has been acting strangely, and I've been feeling uneasy. I'm really sorry, but can I ask you to leave the details for tomorrow? I know it's inconvenient, but I really would appreciate it,” he said, bowing his head deeply, hiding his face to hide the anger he felt toward him. And the fact that he felt like crying.
“But …” Torii was unwilling to let it go. “From our point of view, the sooner the better─”
“I can fill you in on the background,” said Sakaki. “As Mr. Arima says, Mrs. Furukawa is in a very unstable psychological state. Do you understand? I'm also worried about her. Can't you leave it at that for today?”
Torii was about to say something, when suddenly the sound of a special news alert came from the TV. Reflexively they all turned to it. Captioned text for the news flash rolled across the screen.
“What the─” muttered Torii. He was the only one of the three capable of reading the small letters without narrowing his eyes.
Sakaki stood up and went closer to the TV. “What's this?” he said. “Mr. Arima, where's the remote─oh, here it is.” He picked it up and hastily changed to the main news channel.
Yoshio hadn't been able to finish reading the onscreen text, and didn't know what it was all about. “What's happened?”
Pictured on the screen now was a live broadcast direct from a newsroom─the kind seen when regular programming has been interrupted for breaking news. The male anchor looked nervous and was speaking hurriedly.
“We've just learned in the newsroom that at ten past three this afternoon, an anonymous caller telephoned this station. Referring to the Okawa Park Case in Sumida Ward covered in our noon broadcast, the caller told us the following.” The anchor slowed down, as if reading a cue: “There's nothing else to be found in Okawa Park, there's just the arm and Mariko Furukawa's handbag─and the arm is from a different woman. The women are buried elsewhere. The caller asked us to relay this information to the police.”
Yoshio's mouth dropped open, as did Sakaki's. Torii drew himself up to his full height, then whipped around and went outside.
“─We recorded the phone call, and are currently investigating whether it really does have any connection with the case, or whether it's a hoax. From speech patterns the caller seems to be male, but the voice sounds mechanical, rather like synthesized speech, as though a voice changer had been used. As soon as we have further details, we will report them. I repeat─”
“Dad.”
Hearing himself called, Yoshio turned hastily around. Machiko was standing in the passage by the kitchen, water dripping from her chin.
“What was that just now?”
“Machiko─”
“Just now, what was it?”
The policewoman was standing behind Machiko with her arms around her. “Mrs. Furukawa, please calm down. Let's go and sit down. You must dry your face.”
Machiko wasn't listening. Her eyes stood out big in her face, which was stretched so taut it looked as though it might split if you touched it.
“It said that Mariko is buried somewhere else. That's what it said, isn't it?”
“Machiko, it's probably a hoax.”
“A hoax?” Machiko's face crumpled. “A hoax? That means Mariko's coming home, then, doesn't it?”
Torii came running back inside, his eyes furious. “Detective Sakaki, I must go back to Bokuto─”
Just then, Machiko suddenly made a move. The policewoman was caught off guard and lost her grip on her as she made a dash for the front door and ran out side still in her stockinged feet.
“Mariko! I must go and meet Mariko!”
“Machiko!”
Yoshio ran out after her, with Sakaki hot on his heels, not bothering to slip on their shoes. A car was parked outside─probably the car Torii and the others had come in. Unable to stop his momentum, Yoshio crashed into it. Machiko was already halfway down the street. “Mariko! Mariko!” she shouted. Several doors and windows opened around the neighborhood.
It was like running in a nightmare. Machiko's back looked terribly far away. Yoshio ran as fast as he could, but he just couldn't close the gap on her. “Dad, look! Mariko's come back!” Just before the road, she briefly stopped and looked back, then pointed at people on the sidewalk and in vehicles, a big smile on her face. “Mariko's back!”
“Mr
s. Furukawa, watch out!”
Sakaki lunged at her back, but just missed, grabbing at air. Machiko ran out into the road. Yoshio closed his eyes. A horn sounded. The squeal of brakes. The sound of impact. A scream.
“Mrs. Furukawa!” Sasaki's voice broke.
Yoshio slowly opened his eyes. He saw the large tire of a truck, and Machiko's soft, strangely white calf. She lay face down, motionless.
“Um, I really want to speak to someone in the newsroom. Can't I?”
“That's fine. You can talk to me, or is there someone in particular you want to talk to?”
“No, not really. You'll do.”
“May I ask who you are?”
“I don't want to give my name.”
“Okay. So were you wanting to give an opinion about something? Or make a request?”
A short laugh. “Oh, nothing so grandiose. Just, I've got some information.”
“Information?”
“Yep. There was some big news today, right? About a body in Okawa Park. Well, not exactly a body. Just the right arm.”
“Yes, so there was.”
“And a handbag too, right? A woman's. Has that been positively identified as belonging to Mariko Furukawa?”
“Can you get to the point?”
“It's pretty simple, really.” Another chuckle. “Look, I just thought I'd let you know. There's nothing else to be found in Okawa Park. And that includes Mariko Furukawa's body. I dumped her bag there, but she's buried somewhere else. And that arm isn't hers either.”
“Hello? Are you well-informed about this case?”
“You could say that. So I thought I'd save the police a bit of legwork.”
“Whose arm was it?”
“Let's wait and see what the police turn up for that, shall we?”
“Wait─hold on a minute. Why don't you tell me everything from the beginning? You called to talk to us about what happened in Okawa Park, right?”
“Sure, but that's all I'm telling you. For now, anyway. We'll see how things go. Bye then.”
“Hello? Wait a moment! Wai─”
That was the end of the call.
Takegami pressed the rewind button on the tape deck, to listen to it again from the beginning. The small earphones that came with the deck didn't fit properly, and he had to keep his fingers pressed against them so they wouldn't fall out every time he moved. At least the recording quality was good, and there weren't any parts that were difficult to catch.
The call had been placed to the TV station just after three o'clock that afternoon, and had lasted less than five minutes. The newsroom had probably discussed the credibility of the information for the next hour, until finally the go-ahead was given for it to be broadcast as a news flash at 4:15 PM. A detective out taking a witness statement happened to see the report, and immediately relayed it to the investigation room. The police contacted the station right away to request a copy of the recording and an appointment to question the person who had taken the call, but were flatly refused.
There had been many such standoffs between the police and the media in the past, and the investigation team was resigned to a certain amount of friction and delay. But every case was different, and this time the investigators were in a hurry. The head of the First Criminal Investigation Division, Takemoto, was hopping mad after having been given the runaround, and threatened to ban reporters from that TV station from the press conference held later that evening. Of course this would never happen, given the outcry over press freedoms it would cause, but Takemoto hadn't been able to restrain himself.
But Takegami thought it was perfectly understandable that the TV station wouldn't want to hand over a top news item to the police just like that. And anyway, it might end up being a humiliation for them if it transpired it was all just a hoax. As far as he was concerned, the only thing that really mattered to the investigation was whether the information leaked in the call was accurate or not.
The tape he'd been listening to had been recorded from a TV program. Both he and one of his team had transcribed it and checked each other's versions against the other to produce a clean script. He then made copies of everything and put them on the incident room desk for distribution at the investigation meeting later that night.
The call had come in not to the TV station's main switchboard but to a direct line to the newsroom. The newsroom reporter who had answered it said on TV that the caller had first asked, “Is this the right number for the newsroom?” When he'd answered that it was, the caller had gone on, “I want to talk to a member of the newsroom staff about something extremely important.” When asked what it was about, he'd again asked, “Is this really the newsroom? Where you deal with information about criminal cases?” Something about the urgency of his speech combined with the weird effect of the voice changer had rung alarm bells with the reporter, who had hit the record button.
Takegami was still listening to the recording when one of his team came back hugging a large document tube. He was the youngest of the detectives assigned from Bokuto Police Station to the desk, and was called Shinozaki. His eyeglasses and slight build gave the impression of being a lightweight, but he was a quick study and worked efficiently.
Currently he was working with Takegami to produce a map on which the progress of the investigation would be recorded. The task involved matching aerial photographs of Okawa Park and its surroundings with a residential map of the area, tracing the details, and transferring them onto the map. All the side roads, empty plots, narrow spaces between houses─all of it had to be drawn onto the map to make it as close as possible to the reality on the ground. It had to be accurate, otherwise the huge amount of information from the investigation that would be recorded on it─reports of suspicious cars, eyewitness testimonies, door-to-door questioning in the area─wouldn't match up.
Takegami always made a basic detailed map like this. He would add new facts as they arose, then make a copy of it for the first investigation meeting, then add to this copy all the facts that came to light before the next investigation meeting, then make a copy of that─and so on. This way it would always be kept up to date with the latest information from the investigation; at any point in time there would be a complete version of the map, plus a record of where the investigation had been at different stages. If things foundered or took a wrong direction, those records proved useful in determining at what point they had gone wrong. Well, make that “somewhat useful”─but it was better than not doing it at all.
Making the first basic map required neurotic attention to detail. As the investigation progressed, in addition to the overall map they would need to enlarge certain locations. On these larger scale maps, they would have to record even minute details like the position of gas meters and manholes. It was too much for him to do by himself, so he always got someone to help him and this time he had designated Shinozaki. They had only just gotten started, but looking at the way the young detective worked, Takegami had the feeling he would be able to rely on him.
Shinozaki placed the document tube on the desk and glanced at Takegami, who was listening to the tape. Takegami opened his eyes.
“Do you think it's authentic?” Shinozaki ventured. He had heard the conversation when they'd made the copy from the TV.
Takegami paused the tape, removed his earphones, and reached for his cigarettes. “I can't really say yet. Whenever there's a big case like this, you always get a bunch of rubberneckers who delight in putting out false information.”
“And it's likely that this is one such?”
Takegami exhaled smoke. “What do you think?”
Shinozaki shifted in his chair, and pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. “I think it's possibly fake.”
“Mm.”
“But then the way this guy speaks, he sounds young, but not stupid.”
“That's what I think, too. Probably about the
same age as you, I'd say. How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
Takegami nodded. He'd thought the guy in the recording sounded under thirty. He could possibly be even younger than Shinozaki. The voice sounded strange because of the voice changer, but the caller was almost certainly male, and from the way he talked you could more or less discern his age.
“I wonder whether any of the rubberneckers you mentioned would sound this smart?”
Takegami agreed.
“On the other hand, the fact that he chose to call a TV station suggests he's a kind of follow-the-crowd type,” Shinozaki continued, his tone serious. “Why didn't he call the police direct?”
“Because it wouldn't create a buzz if he did that.”
“No, it wouldn't,” Shinozaki nodded. “Oh, by the way I heard the press conference has been moved forward, and will be starting soon.”
“Now that it's all over the TV, it's best to get on with it sooner than later.”
“I guess. Our station chief is apparently quite nervous about it.
Takegami stubbed out his cigarette and snorted. “The chief would do well to keep quiet. A senior officer or our division chief will field the questions.”
“This is the first time we've had to deal with such a big case at our station … Here, I borrowed this.”
Shinozaki spread out the document that was in the tube. It was a large blueprint map. Part of Okawa Park was currently undergoing improvement, which was not detailed on the regular maps, so Shinozaki had gone to the Sumida Ward Office to get the blueprints for the repairs.
“Remember that serial killer case a few years ago?” Shinozaki continued pensively. “I think whoever made this call─whether it's fake or not─had that in mind and wanted to stir things up. That's also why the media have reacted so touchily to it.”
He was referring to a case, still in court, where four young girls had been snatched and killed in the Tokyo metropolitan area. The murderer had done things like write to the mass media and send bones from the burned corpses to the families. His motivations were still a puzzle, though there were a number of theories. The case had sent shockwaves through the nation for its highly unusual nature.
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