Just then, a text came in to Kusanagi’s phone. It was from Utsumi. He pulled up the message, and his eyes widened.
Found out where Senba is being hospitalized. Coming back now.
FORTY-THREE
Narumi hesitated as she walked. She knew she had to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. She poked her head into the kitchen. Setsuko was standing there, sharpening a knife. The clock on the wall showed it was already after ten.
“Mom?”
Setsuko almost jumped. “Hey, there. You startled me.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Hmm? The bath, probably.”
Perfect.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Narumi said hesitantly.
Setsuko put down a knife. There was no astonishment in her eyes, just cold resolve, as though she already knew what her daughter was going to say. “Yes?” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“I just got a call from one of my friends back in middle school. It wasn’t about much, but at the end, she asked me about Ogikubo.”
Setsuko’s eyes narrowed. “Ogikubo?”
“Yeah. She just sounded like she wanted to make sure that’s where we lived. She didn’t say why. But I think I know.”
“And?”
The look of defeat on her mother’s face made Narumi’s chest ache. It was a sure confirmation that her suspicions were right, and any hope she might have clung to was false.
Desperately trying to keep any hint of tears out of her voice, she said, “Well, this is just a guess, but I think someone came to talk to her. Someone wanted to know where I was living in middle school. Probably the police.”
“Why do you think that?” Setsuko asked with an uncomfortable smile. “Maybe she just called you on a whim?”
Narumi shook her head. “I don’t think so. The timing’s too perfect.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I heard from Nishiguchi that Tsukahara, the man who was killed, used to be a detective with the Tokyo Police Department. A homicide detective.”
The smile faded from Setsuko’s face.
Narumi continued. “And I heard something else from Mr. Yukawa about Mr. Tsukahara being spotted at a resort development in East Hari, where a murderer he arrested once used to live—I’m pretty sure he heard it from his friend in Tokyo homicide. I’m also pretty sure who the victim of that murder was.”
“Narumi,” Setsuko said, a severe look on her face. “We promised never to talk about that.”
“I think we’re past that point now, Mom. I don’t know what’s going on, but the police in Tokyo are moving on this. They’re looking into our family. Please, you have to tell me the truth. I know you know something. Why was Mr. Tsukahara here? What happened that night? What did Dad do?”
A look of anguish passed across Setsuko’s face. She lowered her eyes.
“Please,” Narumi said.
Setsuko looked back up, but before she spoke, she glanced over Narumi’s shoulder, and her eyes went wide. Narumi turned, almost fearfully. Her father was standing in a T-shirt and exercise shorts, a towel draped around his neck.
“Keep it down,” Shigehiro said, languidly, “or they’ll hear you all the way to town.” He walked in, leaning on his cane. He pulled a bottle of tea out of the refrigerator, poured some into a nearby cup, and drank it down with gusto. He appeared so calm that Narumi thought for a moment he actually might not have heard what they were talking about.
Setsuko was still silent, her eyes fixed firmly on the floorboards.
Shigehiro finished drinking his tea, then took a deep sigh. “Guess that’s it, then,” he said.
Narumi glanced at her father. “What’s it?”
“Shigehiro—” Setsuko began.
“You be quiet,” Shigehiro said in a gravelly voice. He turned a gentle smile to Narumi.
“There’s something we need to talk about. Something very important.”
FORTY-FOUR
Kusanagi arrived at the restaurant and found Utsumi sitting at one of the tables in the back. He waved off the hostess, who had come to greet him, and walked in.
Utsumi had been fiddling with her phone, but she put it away when she saw him approach. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking and sat in the no-smoking section. You want to move?”
“No, we’re fine right here,” he replied. “You get precedence tonight. You’ve been out questioning people all day.”
The waitress came up, and without looking at the menu, Kusanagi ordered coffee. Utsumi already had a coffee on the table in front of her.
“So, let’s have it. How’d you find him?”
“The traditional method. I started asking at every hospital in the Chofu Station area. I could eliminate any place that was outpatient only, which didn’t leave too many. When I showed Tsukahara’s picture to the receptionist at the fifth hospital, she told me she’d seen him visit several times.”
“Good work. Where was this?”
Utsumi produced a brochure from the Shibamoto General Hospital.
“It’s a medium-sized place. Notable because it has a hospice center.”
Kusanagi had been about to take a sip of his coffee, but he put it back on the table. “Senba’s in hospice? What is it, cancer?”
“The director of the hospital and his appointed physician were both out today, so I couldn’t get the details. But one of the nurses confirmed that Senba’s in hospice care. That would indicate late-stage cancer, or something close to it. She couldn’t tell me more.”
“Did you see him?”
Utsumi shook her head. “They don’t let anyone in other than family after 6:00 p.m. In this case, they’d been considering Tsukahara family, and the nurse mentioned that he’d paid for the hospitalization.”
“Was there some connection between Tsukahara and the hospital, then?”
“I’m not sure. One of the nurses did see Tsukahara speaking with the director on several occasions, and she thought they might be friends.”
Kusanagi took a sip of weak coffee and grunted. “Well, you might be right about Tsukahara having some pull there. The question now is, why did he go to such lengths to take care of Senba?”
“A very good reason,” Utsumi agreed, a hard light in her eyes.
Kusanagi crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking at her. “You’re thinking something, aren’t you? You’ve got an idea, vague though it might be.”
“I’m guessing you do too, Detective Kusanagi.”
Kusanagi snorted. “Okay, stop acting all important and get on with it. What’s your amazing theory?”
“There’s nothing amazing about it. It’s just what Tatara said. Tsukahara had Senba’s case on his mind. The case might have been officially closed after the arrest, but there was some deeper truth that remained uncovered, and Tsukahara knew it.”
Kusanagi rested his arms on the table and looked up at the younger detective. “A deeper truth, eh? So let’s hear it.”
Utsumi hesitated for a moment before brushing back her hair and shaking her head. “I don’t believe in wild speculation without solid evidence.”
Kusanagi chuckled and scratched his lip beneath his nose. “That’s probably a good policy, but maybe I can give you a little help on the evidence front.” He glanced around and said, more quietly, “I found out where Mrs. Kawahata and her daughter were living. The exact address is still a mystery, but I know the station they lived near: Ogikubo.”
Utsumi’s eyes gleamed.
“The Kawahatas were involved in that case sixteen years ago—there’s your deeper truth. As to how they were involved, well, I have a guess,” Kusanagi said, adding with a grin, “Of course, that would be wild speculation.”