Tomoya’s heart was still pounding even though it had been several minutes since he had been brought into the station. And shivers were running up his spine, despite his temperature having spiked from all the excitement.
“You look pretty nervous,” Kusanagi said, as if he could read Tomoya’s emotions like a book. “Just relax. As long as you answer my questions, this will be over and done with in no time.”
What kind of questions are you planning on asking me? Tomoya wanted to say, but his lips wouldn’t cooperate.
“There’s just one thing I want you to tell me.” Kusanagi held up the index finger of one hand. “Your movements on the day of the parade. That’s all.”
Tomoya finally managed to speak.
“But I’ve already...”
“Yes, I know, you’ve already told Detective Utsumi. She reports to me.” Kusanagi glanced to the side, where Utsumi was sitting with her laptop, then returned his gaze to Tomoya. “A couple of your colleagues... Let’s see.” He picked up a sheaf of documents from the table. “Ah, here we go. You watched the parade with a Mr. Tanaka and a Ms. Sato. There was, however, a stretch of time when you separated; from a little after three P.M. to four P.M. It’s that hiatus I want to ask you about. We know that you went to say hello to Ms. Maya Miyazawa, the owner of Miyazawa Books, at the finish area — but what were you doing for the rest of the time?”
“What was I doing? I don’t know. Nothing special... Just walking around the place.”
“The place being — where exactly?”
“The shopping district.”
“That’s funny.” Kusanagi dropped the sheaf of documents onto the table and crossed his arms. “We’ve reviewed all the footage of all the security cameras in the shopping district, but we can’t find you on any of them for that whole hour, even though we did find your friends Tanaka and Sato in multiple locations. So where were you all that time?”
Tomoya lowered his eyes. His heart was beating even faster. He could feel the sweat beading on his temples.
Tomoya knew better than to make anything up on the fly. He had no idea where the damn security cameras in the shopping district were located.
“I don’t remember,” he said weakly. It was the best he could do in the circumstances.
“Mr. Takagaki,” Kusanagi said to him. “Mr. Takagaki, look at me.”
Tomoya timidly looked up. Kusanagi placed a single photograph on the desk. When Tomoya saw what it was, his heart started pounding even faster.
“You know what this is?”
“A treasure chest...”
“That’s right. It’s one of the props Team Kikuno used in the parade. Now, we know something interesting about these treasure chests. They were loaded with bottles of oolong tea and water as ballast to stabilize them. Once the parade was finished, the drinks were distributed to the staff — but that was when something odd happened. With this one chest, the original oolong tea had disappeared, while the number of bottles of water had increased! Everyone assumed that the guy in charge of the props had just made a mistake. He is adamant that he didn’t. I wonder what really happened?” Kusanagi was speaking softly, but every word he uttered was boring a hole into Tomoya’s guts.
“We believe that this strange episode of the treasure chest is intimately connected with Kanichi Hasunuma, the suspect in a murder, who died that day. Through our investigative work, we’ve identified your actions as a key issue — particularly that unaccounted-for gap of thirty or forty minutes. That’s why we must find out what you were doing in that time.”
Tomoya lowered his eyes again. He couldn’t maintain eye contact with Kusanagi.
Suddenly, Tojima’s voice was echoing around his head. It was something he had said to him on the phone the other day.
Tell the truth, if you absolutely have to. You don’t have to lie and you don’t need to hide anything—
Is now that time? he wondered. But if I come out and tell the truth, what will that mean for everyone else? Won’t they be charged with a crime? I can’t let that happen. A man died!
“There were five treasure chests,” Kusanagi continued. “We’re currently checking them all for fingerprints, paying particular attention to the metal clasps on the side panels.”
I’m okay there, thought Tomoya. I had gloves on.
“Of course, fingerprints aren’t the only thing we’ll be checking for. There’s also DNA. The science is now so advanced that we can analyze the tiniest amount of anything: sebaceous matter, sweat, dandruff. Unless you wear a full face mask, it’s almost impossible to prevent crap like that falling off your head and sticking to things. We’ll also be checking for hair. Oh, and, last but not least, glove prints.”
Tomoya was horrified and his shoulders spasmed.
“Something wrong?” asked Kusanagi, who had noticed his reactions. “Haven’t you heard about glove prints? They’re marks that are left when you touch something wearing gloves. We can work out what kind of gloves a person was wearing. Cotton work gloves leave behind fibers that we can identify. Which reminds me—” Kusanagi paused a moment, then went on. “Forensics have found glove prints on one of the chests. Leather gloves, they tell me. The thing with leather gloves is that leather has a distinct grain, meaning every pair is different. Once we’ve checked the glove prints properly, we’ll be able to identify the gloves that were used.”
Cold sweat was oozing from Tomoya’s armpits. He could feel his ears reddening, but his body was beyond his control.
“Mr. Takagaki,” Kusanagi repeated. “I’m sure that you own at least one pair of leather gloves. I just need to put through a little paperwork, then we’ll have the right to go and look around your house. It’s something called a domiciliary search. If we find any leather gloves, we’ll test them to see if they’re a match for the prints on the treasure chest. If we don’t find any gloves at your house, then we’ll go to your office. We will dig around everywhere: your desk, your locker, you name it. Is that what you want?
“Of course it isn’t,” continued Kusanagi, answering his own question. “It will be a nasty surprise for your mother. Worse than a surprise. She’ll be so worried about what her little boy’s gone and done that she’ll probably get stomach cramps. It’ll be the same with the people at work: your bosses, your coworkers — they’ll all start looking at you differently. That’s got to be something you want to avoid?
“To be frank, it’s not how we want to proceed, either. We’d like to get the job done without having to go so far. That’s why we’re offering you a way out. This thirty- or forty-minute-long gap on the day of the parade — just tell us what you were doing, and we can all spare ourselves a great deal of unpleasantness. Well? Are you tempted? Or do you prefer the other path where you break your mother’s heart and get shunned by your workmates?”
Kusanagi was a veteran detective who had locked horns with the wiliest of criminals over his career. He had driven Tomoya into a corner. In his mind’s eye, the young man could see his mother, Rie, brooding and fearful, and his boss, Tsukamoto, bitter and aggrieved.
“Mr. Takagaki.” Kusanagi was almost shouting as he smacked the table hard. Tomoya’s head jerked up in shock.
“This is your last chance. Tell me about that thirty- or forty-minute gap. If you choose not to answer, it’s no skin off my nose. But, if that’s what you opt to do, we will keep you here in the station overnight. And as soon as we release you, I will be applying for a search warrant. If you change your mind then, I’m afraid it will be too late. What do you want to do?” Kusanagi was speaking fast in an effort to bulldoze Tomoya into submission.