The apartment doorbell rang. Tamiko dragged herself over to the entrance and peered through the peephole.
A man stood in the passageway outside. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt over a T-shirt and carrying a shopping bag in one hand. Although he didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a proper policeman, Tamiko wasn’t suspicious. They’d met before, though she couldn’t recall his name. She was pretty sure he’d given her his business card, but she’d mislaid the thing.
She unlocked the door and opened up. The detective smiled and gave a little bow.
“Sorry to disturb you again.”
Tamiko looked at him quizzically.
“What do you want? A whole series of detectives have already questioned me.”
When Tamiko had called the police, this detective had been first on the scene.
He made a gesture of apology.
“I know this is uncomfortable. New facts have come to light in the investigation. When we learn something new, we have to re-interview everyone associated with the case. You’re helping us solve the crime, and we really appreciate your cooperation.”
Tamiko sighed.
“What do you want to ask me?”
The detective’s name suddenly came back to Tamiko. It was Kaga. He had a gentle way of speaking that she had found reassuring.
“This could take a while, so perhaps it would be better if we went somewhere we can sit down... Oh, I brought you these. They’re supposed to be very nice.” Kaga held out the paper bag. It looked like some sort of sweet.
“That’s for me?”
“Yes. It’s a passion fruit and sweet almond pastry... or I think that’s what it is. Don’t you like sweet things?”
“No, I do...”
“Well, go ahead and take it. If you put it in the refrigerator, it will keep for a while.”
“Well, thank you.” Tamiko took the bag from him. Cold was seeping out of the box at the bottom of it. They must have used dry ice.
I might be able to eat something like this, she thought. Since the murder, she hadn’t eaten properly. Her appetite was simply gone.
“You know that café on the far side of the street?” said Kaga. “I’ll wait for you there. This won’t take long, I promise.”
Tamiko shook her head and pushed the door wide open.
“If we’re just going to talk, here’s as good as anywhere.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“And I don’t want to get changed. Plus, if we go out, I’ll have to put on makeup.”
Tamiko was wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe. Because she worked from home, she always dressed like that. “I’m too old to worry about being alone with a strange man. Come on in. Sorry about the mess.”
Kaga looked uncertain. “All right, then,” he said and stepped in.
The apartment consisted of a living room, a kitchen area, and a separate bedroom. The living room contained a couple of armchairs and a coffee table, with the computer desk right at the far end. Tamiko didn’t have a dining table.
After showing Kaga to one of the armchairs, Tamiko went over to the kitchen. She poured a couple of glasses of barley tea and brought them over to the table.
“Thank you.” Kaga inclined his head slightly.
“Are you starting to come to terms with what happened?” he asked, sipping his tea. His gaze traveled between Tamiko and the computer.
“I still can’t get my head around it. Sometimes I hope it’s all just a bad dream. It’s real, though, isn’t it? Every time I realize that, I get depressed all over again. I’ve got to learn to accept it... Maybe that is what I’m doing. I mean, I’m certainly not doing anything else.” Tamiko gave a wan smile.
“The funeral was yesterday. Did you go?”
Tamiko nodded feebly.
“Yes, I went to offer incense. I almost didn’t, though. I felt ashamed in front of her family, but even worse, I didn’t know how to apologize to Mineko herself. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her portrait up on the altar.”
Kaga frowned.
“You’ve no reason to feel like that. What happened isn’t your fault. The only guilty party is the perpetrator: the person who killed Mineko Mitsui.”
“Yes, but—” Tamiko broke off and lowered her eyes. She could feel emotion welling up again.
“I know it’s a bother, but I’d like to run through the details again,” Kaga said. “You originally arranged to go to Ms. Mitsui’s apartment at seven p.m. At about half past six, you called her and postponed the appointment until eight. Correct so far?”
Tamiko sighed heavily. Detectives really don’t know when enough’s enough, she thought. How many times have they already made me go through this?
“That’s right. I needed to see someone else at seven, so I postponed.”
Kaga flipped open his notebook.
“The person you were meeting was a certain Mr. Koji Tachibana, an Englishman of Japanese origin. The two of you met at Cortesia, a jewelry store in Ginza. You then left the store at seven thirty, went straight to Ms. Mitsui’s building, and discovered her body in her apartment. Is there anything you need to correct so far?”
“No. That’s exactly what happened.”
Tamiko knew that the police were asking around, trying to corroborate her statement. Koji had been visited by a detective from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police.
“I didn’t tell them why we got together, but they looked like they were just bursting to ask,” Koji had declared with a hint of conspiratorial enjoyment on the phone. When Tamiko said nothing, he realized how tactless he’d been and apologized. Koji had been born in Japan and spoke fluent Japanese. He had later acquired English citizenship after his father moved to the UK for work.
“Did anybody know that you and Ms. Mitsui had arranged to see each other that evening?” asked Kaga.
“The only person I told was Mr. Tachibana.”
Kaga nodded and let his eyes wander around the room.
“That’s your cell phone there?”
“That’s right.”
“Could I have a look?”
“If you must.”
Tamiko picked up the cell phone and handed it to Kaga.
Kaga thanked her. Tamiko noticed that he had slipped on a pair of white gloves before he took it from her.
The cell phone was red and accessorized with a cherry-blossom-pattern strap. It was a couple of years old, and Tamiko had been thinking about switching to a newer model.
Kaga thanked her and returned the phone.
“Uhm, what are you...?”
“This may seem an odd question, but do you know if any of Ms. Mitsui’s friends or acquaintances recently mislaid their cell phone? It could be a man or a woman. Doesn’t matter.”
“Someone losing a cell phone? I didn’t hear anything about it.”
“I see,” murmured Kaga, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Why does it matter? What’s the big deal about someone mislaying a cell phone?”
Sunk in thought, Kaga did not immediately reply. Must be a secret he’s not at liberty to reveal to ordinary members of the public, Tamiko was thinking, when the detective finally spoke up.
“Someone called her from a pay phone.”
“Huh?”
“Somebody called Ms. Mitsui from a pay phone. The call was made at six forty-five. That’s only a short time before the murder occurred. Initially, we had absolutely no idea who the caller was, but recent evidence suggests that it was someone quite close to Ms. Mitsui. Someone overheard Ms. Mitsui’s end of the conversation, and she was speaking in a very informal, friendly manner. From what Ms. Mitsui said on the phone, we think it’s reasonable to assume that the other party had lost or mislaid their cell phone.”