Kaise turned silent. It was not because he feared this tirade. Yamanouchi's reaction had raised Kaise's suspicions to another level. A crime committed by someone in the Criminal Investigation Department. It might be that Yamanouchi was concerned about this in a corner of his mind. The collective storage of notebooks was not the only seed of discord between the Police Affairs Department and the Criminal Investigation Department. Last spring's personnel change was a case in point. The previous Police Affairs Department Chief had sidelined Yamanouchi's right-hand man, the chief of the First Criminal Investigation Section, to the post of Counselor of the Traffic Department. The official reason given was “to allow a rest” for the section chief, who was in poor health and prone to taking days off. But the department chief's intent was elsewhere. His own change of posting to Headquarters had been decided and he had, to use his words, “slammed the swollen-headed Criminal Investigation Department with a parting gift."
J Prefectural Police historically had a strong Criminal Investigation Department. The head of the First Criminal Investigation Section, the core of the department, had been removed. It was not hard to imagine that there were many in the investigation field who harbored feelings of humiliation and anger. With this background of resentment toward the Police Affairs Department, the further antagonism caused by the collective storage system may have triggered this case. The theory made sense. It was suspicious that the incident had occurred during the test phase. The time to crush the effort was now, its opponents would think.
But perhaps it wasn't a concerted effort. What if it was just one individual? There were all manner of types in the organization. If someone had expanded without limit his hatred toward the Police Affairs Department or had been fired up with righteous indignation and acted out his anger, then...
"Why are you keeping silent? Say something!” Pushing his hooked nose forward, Yamanouchi yelled, “Or are you making irresponsible comments because you want to evade your responsibility?"
"No, that is not it."
"Then make it clear. What makes you think it's an inside job? Who's bringing down who? Just say it."
"I don't know,” Kaise said, sensing he was walking a tightrope. “I am saying that if it is an internal matter, then there is the possibility that the IDs will be returned. That is what I am saying."
"Don't play around—"
As Yamanouchi suddenly stood up, Headquarters Department Head Aoyama motioned to restrain him.
"It's worth considering. If the IDs are returned, everything will turn out all right...."
Aoyama crossed his arms across his chest. There was a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead, which looked like a plastic doll's, but it must have been in full motion inside. Was it disadvantageous or advantageous to do as Kaise said?
The conference room became steeped in silence. Every man was waiting for the next word from the Headquarters department head.
The plastic forehead turned around.
"How long will it take to do the internal investigation?"
The Internal Investigations Head pushed back his chair and stood up. “We need at least two days."
Feeling Yamanouchi's fierce gaze, Kaise stood up straighter. I beg of you, he thought to himself.
"We'll delay the press announcement until the day after tomorrow,” Aoyama said.
* * * *
4.
Kaise put in a call to his home in the police housing unit to say that he would be late getting home and left the prefectural police headquarters by car.
It was about a fifteen-minute trip to U Station. It was after 4:30, and already the sky was turning dusky. Early Christmas decorations highlighted the desolation of the local shopping street, whose customers had been lured away by the large-scale shops.
Kaise let out a heavy breath.
A two-day suspended sentence—
He had spoken with bravado. He had gained some time. But there were only two days to find the culprit and retrieve the IDs. Was that even possible?
Next to him on the passenger seat was a file. Masukawa Takashi, U Station, First Criminal Investigation Section, Chief of Burglary. Assistant Police Inspector. Age 45. Commendations received: 21. Residence: family dormitory, with wife and two daughters.
It was hard to feel the reality of this. He was suspecting a man he had never even talked to. A feud. Righteous indignation. Retaliation. Those words wouldn't string together in one line now that the excitement had died down. It just so happened that someone in the Criminal Investigation Section was the duty officer in charge last night. Wasn't he just trying to force this coincidence into a result?
Stop it!
For Kaise, now, there was only Masukawa. He had thrown out the possibility of it being an outside crime. Work like that—like finding a needle on the beach—was best left to the tactics of the Criminal Investigation and Security departments. Even for Internal Investigations, it was going to be a major task to investigate the thirteen night-duty staff in merely two days. For the time being, he would fix on Masukawa. He had to believe that Masukawa had a motive.
But it was doubtful if he could approach Masukawa. Internal investigations were under the sole authority of the Internal Investigations office. Even if he asserted that he was the original proponent of the collective storage of IDs, he would not be permitted to supercede the investigators and question anyone. Neither could he hope for backup from the Police Affairs Department. “Write up a text for the news conference.” This was the only directive given Kaise by Department Head Kamoike after the meeting.
I'll just have to use guerilla tactics....
Kaise turned the steering wheel and drove into the U Station parking lot. Lights were on in the fifth-floor exercise room. It appeared that the questioning by the investigators was still in progress.
He had expected the station to be in a tumult, but instead, it was quiet. There were only a few people in the Traffic Section just inside the door; and in the Police Affairs Section farther in, he saw only Yamazaki Tomoyo, a civil-service staff member, and one young officer of the section.
I'm in luck, Kaise thought.
Tomoyo was an old-timer at U Station. She had been there for over thirty years, and during that time had given birth to three children, two of whom were now adults. Kaise himself had been posted to U Station for two years while he was a policeman. He might be able to get quite of bit of information out of Tomoyo.
"Hello, it's been quite awhile."
"Oh, hello, Mr. Kaise.” Tomoyo clapped her hands in joy. But realizing immediately why his nostalgic face had appeared before her, she furrowed her brow. “It's a terrible situation."
"Yes."
"Who could have done it?"
Her way of saying “who” troubled him. “Who do you think it could be, Mrs. Yamazaki?"
"I don't know.... The only certain thing is that it wasn't me.” Tomoyo's expression had switched back to a smile.
Kaise wanted to ask about Masukawa, but it was difficult to broach the subject. He turned his eyes toward the storage safe at the wall. It was just about at Kaise's eye-level. It was a locker-type model, so the steel plates were as thick as commercially available heat-resistant safes. There was a light dusting of powder around the handle.
If the culprit is a detective, he would hardly leave any fingerprints....
"Mr. Kaise, have a seat. We're just having some tea."
Turning around at Tomoyo's voice, Kaise noticed a young officer standing erect holding a tray of tea cups. This policeman, who gave his name as Kamiya Jun'ichi, with his bright eyes and lack of sophistication, made Kaise think of Yagi Akane at his father's hospital.
"Young Kamiya has an excellent record. Some day he'll become important like you, Mr. Kaise.” Having flattered both Kaise and Kamiya, Tomoyo's face suddenly clouded over. “Mr. Kaise, does this mean that our section is under suspicion?"
Since morning, four members of the Police Affairs Section had been called to the exercise room to be questioned by
the investigators. It seemed that Tomoyo was trying to get information about Headquarters from Kaise.
"I don't think your section is under particular suspicion. They're trying to clear all the possibilities."
His answer satisfied Tomoyo, but Kaise was troubled by the new pebble of doubt that had been thrown into the pond.
Was it a member of the Police Affairs Section?
Of course, this was a possibility. It wasn't just last night's night-duty staff who would be under suspicion internally. The staff of the Police Affairs Section was in charge of the storage safe. They were solid suspects as well. His thinking was muddled after all, not to have thought of such an obvious prospect. Even though he, being with Police Affairs at Headquarters, was not in the same jurisdiction as U Station, they were all still part of the same Police Affairs Section. Somewhere in his mind he may have felt that he wanted to avoid suspecting those within his own section.
Given the circumstances, a member of the Police Affairs Section could have done it. It would be easiest for the person in charge of storing the IDs to commit the crime. Pretending to place the documents into the storage safe, he could actually lock up the empty safe. It would be as easy as fooling children to take the IDs in such a way.
He didn't have to look at the files. The first-floor storage officer was “Army Sergeant.” Anyone who didn't recognize this nickname was an imposter in the department.
—Owada T—oru, Charge Officer, Police Affairs Section, U Station. Police Sergeant. Age 59. Nicknamed “Army Sergeant” or “Top Sergeant,” he was the most rigid man in J Prefectural Police Agency.
He was an extreme stickler about rules and regulations. He would yell at officers if he thought their way of saluting wasn't up to par. If he found that the sleeping room was dirty, he would call back officers who had returned to the dormitory and order them to clean up the room. He was said to have slapped a young officer for wearing his police cap at an angle. He was also said to have insisted to the station chief that he move his car, as it wasn't parked in his designated space. He was seen as an annoyance by both his superiors and those lower in rank. But, as they were in the police force, which places a high value on discipline, those around him thought it a necessary evil to have such a person. This was the uncomfortable narrow niche occupied by —Owada.
Kaise had for just one year been put through his paces where —Owada was stationed. It was while he was posted at a police box. Kaise was not directly under —Owada's supervision, but that didn't matter to the sergeant. “Your father was a great policeman,” he told Kaise at every opportunity. And Kaise couldn't stand it.
However ... if —Owada was the culprit, it was the end of the police force, Kaise thought.
He may have gone too far at times, but —Owada had an upright streak. Heeding the rules and regulations was his abiding concern, even to the point of snapping at superiors without flinching. If
—Owada had gone beyond violating regulations to commit a theft, Kaise wouldn't be the only one to think that the institution of the police was in danger of collapse.
—Owada was facing mandatory retirement in the spring. But after the turn of the year, he would be promoted one rank to acknowledge his many years of service, and the normal practice was then to take accumulated leave before unofficial notification of his next assignment. That meant his actual remaining time on duty was less than one month.
Something crossed Kaise's mind.
"Mrs. Yamazaki, how has Police Sergeant —Owada been recently?"
"What do you mean, how? He's just the same as usual.” So saying, Tomoyo widened her eyes. “You can't be suspecting Mr. —Owada, can you?"
"No..."
It wasn't that he suspected him. Yet he was concerned about the retirement of “Army Sergeant."
It was not only his father's case. Kaise had seen many instances of the inner wavering of policemen whose countdown to retirement had begun. Those who were constantly harping at others could become quiet, while those who were taciturn became voluble. There were those who became awfully tearful. Those who made unbelievably foolish mistakes. Those who sat staring out the window....
For forty years, they had watched over society and had been watched by society. The liberation from the burden of the uniform. At the same time, the sense of nothingness that surges toward them....
In most cases, it was a passing phase. The feeling no doubt gradually fades as one breathes the new air of the private company where one is reemployed, or becomes busy taking care of grandchildren, or engages in long-awaited hobbies. However, there are only a few who can imagine themselves as anything other than police officers before they retire. That was why, Kaise thought, the “season of the devil” exists just before retirement.
What was the case with —Owada? Was there no hint of wavering, as Tomoyo said? In this police agency, which had strict controls perforce, what was going through the mind of this old charge officer, who had bound himself and others hand and foot with rules and regulations, as he faced retirement?
If —Owada was the culprit, it spelt the end of integrity for the police agency. As he ruminated over this, Kaise was overtaken by the thought that he had discovered a new suspect. It was not suspicion toward —Owada personally. It was suspicion toward the transition that had so brutally destroyed his father.
"Officer Kamiya!"
Kaise ducked his head at the loud voice from behind. He knew without turning around. This voice was...
—Owada stood there.
Kaise tensed as he stood up. “Hello, I'm afraid it's been a long time."
—Owada bowed scrupulously to the younger superintendent from Headquarters. Having done so, he paid no further attention to Kaise as he shouted at Kamiya that the table was dirty. Bring the cleaning cloth. Wring it well. Wipe the table twice.
The eyes that glared like a demon-god statue were just as Kaise had remembered, but —Owada's hair and eyebrows were sprinkled with white, and Kaise couldn't help but look with shock at the deep wrinkles in his cheeks. The nickname “Army Sergeant” had been based in the main on his burly appearance, but seeing him after many years made Kaise realize that he had become an aging soldier.
When he had checked Kamiya's work, —Owada went to his own desk to prepare to leave.
Kaise looked at his watch. It was 5:15.
He should hear what —Owada had to say, he thought. But he had trouble finding a way to approach him. His expressions were hard to read, but he could tell that he was glum, perhaps angry at the investigators’ questioning.
As Kaise hesitated, —Owada hoisted his black shoulder bag onto his shoulder.
Making up his mind, Kaise stepped toward him.
"Mr. —Owada, is the questioning..."
—Owada raised his voice to intercept him. “Yesterday, at five-twenty p.m., I placed thirty ID documents into the storage safe and locked it up! This morning at seven forty-five a.m., I unlocked and inspected the inside of the safe to confirm that all thirty IDs were gone. Immediately I made telephone contact with the related departments—that is all!"
Kaise was daunted by this display. He understood why —Owada was the first to be released from the investigators’ questioning. There was no one in the entire organization who could grill as a suspect this man who seemed made of steel and who had regulated himself for forty years.
"I will take my leave now!” Once again —Owada bowed precisely and left Kaise's side.
Wavering ... season of the devil.... All his misgivings evaporated. To an astonishing degree, —Owada still remained the “Army Sergeant."
His eyes followed —Owada as he exited the building. It would be easy to carry thirty ID documents in that shoulder bag, Kaise thought grudgingly.
* * * *
5.
He continued to wait for Masukawa Takashi.
It was past six o'clock. Yamazaki Tomoyo and police officer Kamiya had gone home, leaving Kaise alone in the Police Affairs Section. He asked the night-duty staff to order a
delivery of a bowl of Chinese noodles. He thought of gathering information if there was anyone he knew, but unfortunately there was no one he recognized that night. The night-duty staff in the Traffic Section occasionally looked over suspiciously and whispered to each other, foreheads together.
As he slurped his noodles, Kaise kept watch on the stairway.
His impatience at the internal investigators increased. It would be helpful if they found the culprit, but his expectations were low. Those being questioned were the seventeen night-duty staff and Police Affairs Section officers from last night. Six of them, including —Owada, had gone home, but there were eleven still left. How thoroughly could only three investigators conduct the questioning?
Crap, they're still not done.
Kaise sank into the couch.
The atmosphere of the “Army Sergeant” still lingered. Not a speck of dust littered the floor. The desk was tidied. Its surface brightly reflected the light from the fluorescent bulbs. He recalled Officer Kamiya working hard to dust it with the dustcloth. And shouting at him from behind...
Just then an unpleasant thought crossed his mind.
There must be many who detested —Owada. Hatred aimed at —Owada, not at the Police Affairs Section. Could that turn into a motive?
Perhaps so. By stealing the IDs, the culprit could have put —Owada, the one responsible for storage, into a tight corner. It could have been done to embarrass him, by aiming at this time just before he was to retire.
His line of thought was interrupted.
He heard footsteps on the stairs. The first person ... the second person ... the third person was Masukawa. His cheekbones jutted out. His eyes pierced like those of a bird of prey. Kaise knew this much from the file photograph, but what he observed now was the heavy build of a rugby player.
Kaise ran after him. He caught up with him at the back entrance.
"Section Chief Masukawa."
The thick neck turned the head around.
"I'm Kaise, from Headquarters, Police Affairs Section."
EQMM, May 2008 Page 8
