“And her pension? Was that still being paid?”
“It seems it was. That’s why her account never ran out of money.”
“What about payments into or out of any other accounts?”
“We’re looking into that right now,” Ueno said.
Placing his hands on his hips, Kusanagi took another look at the site of the burned-out house.
“The report said that the two bodies were found in different places.”
“That’s right. The first set of remains was found in the tatami room on the first floor. Bundled up in a burned-up quilt. They found the second body under where the floor would have been.”
“And that was Saori Namiki?”
“Correct.”
Kusanagi was convinced that Yoshie Hasunuma had died from natural causes six years ago. Someone else hid Saori Namiki’s corpse beneath the floor three years after that.
“How much do we know about Yoshie Hasunuma’s family?” Kusanagi asked.
Ueno frowned.
“Very little, to be honest. There were some distant relatives, but she doesn’t seem to have been in touch with them. She had lost her husband some twenty-five years before she died. Her family basically consisted of a single son, Kanichi Hasunuma. He was actually her husband’s son by a previous marriage, not her biological son. Yoshie was his stepmother.”
“This isn’t the house where Kanichi Hasunuma was born and raised, then?”
“No, it’s not.” Ueno pulled out a small notebook. “The Hasunumas moved here thirty-five years ago. When the family came here, Kanichi Hasunuma moved out on his own.”
Kusanagi reflexively clicked his tongue. “I see...”
The Shizuoka Prefectural Police had recently called Kanichi Hasunuma in for an interview. In the transcript, Hasunuma claimed that he had neither contacted nor seen his stepmother for years; that he knew nothing about all the trash around the house; and that the house itself had nothing to do with him. He also stated that he had no idea where the bodies in it had come from. Although the fact that he deigned to answer their questions at all was a slight improvement over his last police interview nineteen years ago, there was little change in his overall uncooperative demeanor.
Kusanagi got Ueno to drop them off at the station, where they caught the next bullet train for Tokyo. Sitting beside Utsumi, Kusanagi swallowed a mouthful of can coffee.
“Can we assume that Hasunuma is the person who hid Saori Namiki’s corpse in the trash house?” Detective Utsumi asked him.
“Probably, yes. For starters, Yoshie Hasunuma died six years ago, and her body was wrapped up in a quilt. Whoever hid Saori Namiki’s body must have known that. They must have thought, ‘Look at this place. Three years, and no one even suspects the old lady’s dead. This place is perfect for hiding a body.’ And why didn’t that person report Yoshie Hasunuma’s death, even though they knew about it?”
Utsumi cocked her head slightly. “Presumably because it worked out better for them to have people think she was still alive.”
“Precisely. Can you think of a reason why?”
Utsumi frowned. “Maybe her pension?” she said tentatively.
Kusanagi grunted. The girl was sharp.
“I think so, too. The scheme was to pretend that she was still alive to get continued access to her pension. There’s only one person who could cook up something like that: someone who knew where Mrs. Hasunuma had her bank accounts and what the PIN numbers for them were — it’s got to be Kanichi Hasunuma, her stepson.”
“So he was stealing her pension benefits.”
“The fact that the place was a trash house proved an unexpected boon when it came to concealing her body. We can’t be sure until the prefectural police have checked Yoshie Hasunuma’s bank statements, but I’m pretty sure about the pension thing.”
Utsumi blinked and nodded gravely.
“As a theory, it makes plenty of sense. The first thing we have to do, then, is to prove that Hasunuma hid Saori’s body.”
“Yes. For starters.”
That was only the starting point. Kusanagi was determined not to repeat the mistakes of nineteen years ago. They had to prove Hasunuma was involved in Saori Namiki’s death.
Kusanagi glanced out of the train window as he sipped his coffee. He didn’t even notice the view; all he could see was the distant past.
The profound sense of defeat he felt then hadn’t weakened with the passing years.
The defendant is found not guilty—
The verdict had turned the whole world on its head for the young detective.
Ultimately, Kusanagi just couldn’t accept it. He read through the text of the ruling over and over again. The judge stated that the likelihood of Hasunuma being involved in the death of Yuna Motohashi was extremely high. Despite that, none of the abundant circumstantial evidence was sufficient to confirm the defendant’s intention to kill. Other than a certain number of adult videos in the defendant’s apartment, there was no solid basis for the argument that Hasunuma had first sexually assaulted Yuna Motohashi, then murdered her when she fought back. The judge dismissed this argument, which he characterized as “unconvincing.”
Kusanagi’s memories of the press conference given by Seiji Motohashi, Yuna’s father, after the publication of the verdict, were also crystal clear. Despite his best efforts to stay composed in front of the television cameras, he had been unable to prevent his voice from cracking and his body trembling with rage.
“I never imagined that the court would find Hasunuma not guilty. What does it mean? That anyone can get away with anything, provided they remain silent? I just can’t accept that. I intend to keep fighting. Whatever it takes, I want the prosecutor and the police to uncover the truth and bring my daughter’s killer to justice.”
Sure enough, the prosecutor appealed. However, when the court of appeals published its ruling, it only served to plunge the victim’s family deeper into despair.
The appeals court judge used even more forceful language than his predecessor. “There is a very strong probability indeed that the defendant caused the death of Yuna Motohashi.” He said that it was hard to see the new evidence put forward by the prosecutor as “constituting adequate proof that the defendant intentionally caused the death of the victim.” He dismissed the appeal and handed down another not-guilty verdict.
There was considerable public interest in how the prosecutor would respond to this second setback. In the end, however, the prosecutor’s office decided against an appeal to the supreme court, because a detailed analysis of the verdict showed that it was in line with both precedent and the constitution, meaning they had no grounds for a fresh appeal. The look of frustration on the deputy chief prosecutor’s face when he made the announcement was something Kusanagi would never forget.
“The biggest mistake that was made nineteen years ago was to believe that Hasunuma would break and confess,” said Kusanagi, still gazing out the train window. “It’s not fair to blame the people heading the investigation for thinking like that. Biological evidence was found proving that a body had been in the refrigerator. No one could reasonably expect anyone to be able to talk their way out of that.”
“I agree, sir.”
“It turned out, however, that there was another escape route,” sighed Kusanagi.
“You mean remaining silent?”
Kusanagi gave a curt nod, then finished off the last of his coffee. As he crushed the empty can in his fist, he chewed his lip.
“Not many people knew about the right to remain silent in those days. Most defendants still felt that if they were asked a question, they were obliged to give some sort of answer. Hasunuma, however, just kept his mouth shut. It didn’t matter whether they were asking him questions about the case or simply making chitchat; he was completely unresponsive. And he maintained the same attitude throughout his two trials. I feel a bit odd saying this, but I was sort of impressed by his strength of character.”