“I think we’ll be sending you back to your own place very soon. We need to do a search first and may confiscate some of your things. I hope that’s okay,” Kusanagi said, looking Masumura right in the eye. “We’ll do a very thorough search. We’ll be looking for photographs of the people you care about most.”
Masumura’s face stiffened. There was a determined glint in his eye.
“Be my guest,” he said. “There’s no one I care about and I don’t have even one photograph. You go ahead and search all you damn well want.”
32
“He was so sure of himself. I can’t believe he was bluffing. My guess is that he really doesn’t have any photos,” Utsumi said.
The red Kilchoman Distillery box that Utsumi had brought with her stood on Yukawa’s desk. Kusanagi had asked her to get Yukawa a nice bottle of Scotch to thank him for his brilliant deduction.
Utsumi was in Yukawa’s office to update him on the interview with Eiji Masumura, which had taken place earlier that day. While Kusanagi had asked the questions, Utsumi had been sitting next to him, taking notes.
“It sounds like we’ve got a formidable opponent on our hands.” A paper cup in each hand, Yukawa made his way back to his armchair. Putting both cups on the low table, he asked Utsumi if she took milk.
“I’m fine without. You don’t believe in mugs?”
“As you can see, this room doesn’t have a sink. It’s not very ecologically sound, but there you go. It’s paper cups or nothing.”
“Thanks,” Kaoru said, sipping from the paper cup. It should have tasted the same as any other instant coffee, but for some reason it always tasted just a bit special when it was brewed by this particular physicist.
She put her cup back on the table and looked up at Yukawa. “Why do you call him formidable?”
“It would be different if Masumura was telling the truth: that after he went to jail, he and his sister really had broken off all communication and had nothing to do with one another. But that’s not what you think happened, is it?”
“No. The chief and I agree on that point. At the cost of making dramatic economies in his own life, he somehow drummed up the money for Yumiko’s school fees and living expenses. He wouldn’t have done that unless he loved her. As for Yumiko herself, she testified about the debt of gratitude she owed him. Ultimately, the manslaughter thing was just a silly squabble that spiraled out of control. I don’t think he would have cut off the relationship. Still, it’s always possible that Masumura tried to break off with his sister because he loved her and was worried about her future. They’ve got different family names, and there’s no mention of a stepbrother in Yumiko’s family register. My guess is that Masumura thought no one would ever know that she had a convicted felon in the family, provided they both kept quiet about it. And sure enough, she married a well-established man from a good family. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Yumiko, but I think she saw complying with Masumura’s request to keep his existence secret as a way to repay him for his kindness.”
“That would explain why she didn’t bring any family photos with her to her new husband’s house.”
“Yes.”
Yukawa resettled himself in his chair, took a sip of his coffee, then put his coffee cup down on the table.
“What do you think happened to those photographs? Do you think Yumiko threw them out before her marriage?”
“I don’t think she’d do that. My guess is that she gave them to Masumura for him to take care of.”
“I agree. The pictures were probably Masumura’s most prized possession. I can imagine him keeping a couple of them in his wallet and taking good care of the others, taking them with him as he moved from place to place. If anything, his photo collection probably grew after Yumiko got married.”
Utsumi understood what Yukawa was implying.
“You think Masumura and Yumiko stayed in contact and met in secret.”
“Masumura lived for his little sister’s happiness. When Yuna was born, I think she became a source of joy for him. I can easily imagine Yumiko bringing baby Yuna with her to their secret rendezvous.”
“They may even have taken photos. The three of them together.”
“Lots of them, I bet. But Masumura is adamant that no such photos exist and is quite happy for you to knock yourselves out looking for them. Why do you think that is?”
“Because he chucked them all out?”
“That’s right.” Yukawa gave an emphatic nod. “I suspect that he got rid of them all in advance, so that even if the police did find out that Yuna Motohashi’s mother was Masumura’s little sister, he could counter that, no, they had broken off all contact and he didn’t even know she was dead. He probably burned them to prevent us finding even a scrap. Those pictures were an irreplaceable treasure for him. The fact that he destroyed them shows just how committed he is. That’s why I described him as a formidable opponent.”
Utsumi nodded and sighed. She remembered Masumura fearlessly facing down Kusanagi’s searing scrutiny. Throughout the interview, he’d radiated a sense of passionate conviction.
“The other day, Professor, you said we were missing only a single piece to complete the puzzle, and that that piece existed in the past. Did you know that Masumura was the missing piece?”
“Of course I did,” Yukawa replied. “I knew that if my process of deduction was right, it had to be him.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
Yukawa raised an eyebrow and grinned at her.
“You mean the investigation would have been easier for you if you’d known it was him from the get-go?”
“I don’t know about it being easy but it would have been more efficient.”
“Oh... efficient?” A smile played around the corners of Yukawa’s mouth. “The reason I didn’t hand you our missing puzzle piece on a plate was because I wanted to make sure that the answers you came up with were all objective.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s say I had told you that Masumura was the missing piece. What would have happened then? Most likely, you would have gone through Masumura’s past with a fine-tooth comb, searching for his connection to the abduction and murder of Yuna Motohashi twenty-three years ago.”
“Well, yes.” Utsumi couldn’t deny it. “I sure would.”
“If that process had led you to the right answer, then all well and good. But there was every reason to think you might go off track and end up with the wrong answer. The Yuna incident took place in Adachi Ward, didn’t it? What if, purely by coincidence, Masumura had once had a job in that part of Tokyo? You’d have been in ecstasies; you’d probably have started investigating all his friends and associates from that time. The only way to find out that Masumura had a stepsister was to check his mother’s family register — but would you have gone that far? I think you’d have started believing that all sorts of irrelevant details were important clues, got sidetracked, and ended up taking an enormous detour. Or do you disagree?”
Kaoru bit her lip. Mortifying though it was to admit, Yukawa probably had a valid point.
“Who knows... perhaps, you’re right.”
“It’s something I see all the time when my students do experiments,” Yukawa said. “They usually know what the result of the experiment is supposed to be. Because of that, they conduct the experiment specifically to produce the desired result. They do things like deliberately misreading the numeric display on the measuring apparatus, either on the high or the low side. They’re happy to end up with a result close to what they wanted and they don’t even realize that they’re guilty of committing a very basic error. If you want to conduct an experiment properly, you’re much better off not knowing what sort of result it’s going to produce. That’s why I thought it was better for me not to reveal the last piece of the puzzle. I was ensuring the objectivity of your answers.”