‘So Mari was visiting you?’
‘Two days only. Then to west country, to hang out with Japanese school buddies. Exeter University.’
‘Exeter? But she was found in Bath.’
He nodded. ‘Last week I call Exeter, speak to Japanese friends. Mari no show. No call, no text, no letter.’
‘Did she say anything to you about visiting Bath?’
‘She say zilch.’
‘She wanted to be independent?’
‘You bet. Independent.’
‘We believe she died four to six weeks ago — a long time for you not to have heard from her. Was she in touch with you at all after leaving here?’
Hitomi raised the palm of his right hand in a sort of salute. ‘You said it, chum, independent.’
Diamond wished he hadn’t said it. Putting words into the mouths of witnesses wasn’t good interviewing technique. ‘Weren’t you worried?’
‘Eyeballs out running restaurant. Mari knew the score.’
‘She could have texted. You both have phones, I’m sure.’
He gave a sad smile. ‘Much to see, many joints to visit. Texting old man no big deal.’
‘Joints to visit? Did she say which?’
Hitomi lifted his palm again, on the point of using that word a third time.
Diamond spoke first. ‘She was a music lover, I understand?’
‘Check.’
‘I mean serious music.’
‘From her mother, graduate of famous Kunitachi Music College, Tokyo. Shit-hot violin player.’
‘Mari played the violin?’
‘Don’t get me wrong, man. Mizuki, her mother. But Mari crazy for this music. Boy bands, bluegrass, hip-hop, no chance. Beethoven, Mozart, put it there.’
‘I expect you heard there was classical music on the iPod that was found? String quartets.’
‘Quartets, sure. Beethoven, Schubert, Haydn since she was a kid this high. Mizuki and me say you dig it, you go for it, babe. Western classical music ginormous in Japan. You seen her phone?’
‘We didn’t find her mobile, unfortunately.’
‘Too bad you miss picture on front.’
Gilbert said to Diamond, ‘He means the screen saver.’
‘String quartet.’
‘She had a quartet as her screen saver? What kind of phone did she have? Do you know which make?’
Hitomi shook his head.
‘What was she carrying when she left you? Her clothes — were they in some kind of case or bag?’
‘Backpack. Black canvas. Many badges.’
‘She had badges attached to it? Places she’d visited?’
He nodded. ‘And key-rings.’ He made a space between his forefinger and thumb. ‘Small violin, clarinet.’
‘I understand. In pewter, probably. These were hanging from the backpack, right?’
‘You got it.’
‘We haven’t found the bag. Did she leave anything at your home before going on her travels?’
‘Some clothes for laundry. Your guys already took these off.’
‘For the DNA testing. Do you have any idea why she would have gone to Bath instead of Exeter?’
This time Hitomi got the word in before Diamond could head it off. ‘Independent.’
‘She didn’t mention friends in Bath, anybody she wanted to visit?’
He shook his head.
‘Why Bath?’ Diamond said. ‘Any clues?’
‘Famous place, well known in Japan.’
‘She went there as a tourist, then?’
‘Tourist, could be.’
‘I’d like to ask you about Mari as a person. It may be difficult, even painful, to answer. These are things we need to know. Did she have a boyfriend?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘In Yokohama, three, maybe four.’
‘And in England?’
‘Who knows?’
‘If she met someone, was she the sort of girl who made friends easily? Do you understand me?’
‘Shack up with guys?’
Diamond hadn’t gone as far as that, but now it had been mentioned the answer would be good to get. He raised his eyebrows and waited.
‘This is not something Japanese girl speak about to her old man,’ Hitomi said and closed the door on that.
‘But did she trust men?’ Diamond asked, back to his line of enquiry. ‘In a strange city, meeting a man for the first time, would she be on her guard?’
‘Her guard? Who the hell you talking about?’
‘It’s an expression — “on her guard” — meaning careful.’
‘You’ve lost me, buster.’
‘Would she let a strange man buy her a drink?’
Hitomi pondered the matter. His hand tightened around his mug of coffee. Clearly he was under strain, trying to be frank and remain dignified. ‘I guess is possible.’
‘Get into his car? I’m trying to understand what happened. Her iPod was found on the river bank in a quiet place away from the city centre.’
‘You telling me all this so I figure it must be so. Nobody told me how she died.’
‘Because we aren’t a hundred percent certain,’ Diamond said. ‘All we know for sure is that she was in the river still in her clothes. She may have been killed before this. We can’t tell how, or why.’
‘I’m reading you now.’ Hitomi sighed and looked down, no doubt picturing the scene. He took another deep breath before going on. ‘Mari is modern young woman, hot chick, twenty years old, straight out of college, degree in higher mathematics. As foreign visitor, in Bath for first time, no buddies, she feels lonesome. Some guy gets friendly, comes on to Mari. This I don’t like one bit, but I understand.’
‘Me, too,’ Diamond said with a glance at Paul Gilbert, ‘and all too easily. The unfortunate part is that the guy in question was a murdering bastard and she trusted him.’
‘Come again,’ the father said. ‘Murdering bastard?’
‘I was speaking to my colleague.’
Hitomi lowered his head. ‘What kind of jerk am I, not keeping tabs on my own daughter?’
Now Gilbert spoke up. ‘Mr. Hitomi, do you by any chance have a picture of Mari?’
‘Picture? You bet.’ At once, an iPhone was produced. With a couple of touches on the display, Hitomi found not one photo, but a series that he let the phone show as a sequence. He passed it to Gilbert. ‘Right here in London town.’
‘This visit? That’s brilliant.’ Diamond was reminded that all the Japanese he’d ever seen were compulsive takers of photographs. He practically snatched the phone from Gilbert. ‘Can you show me from the start?’
Hitomi leaned across and touched the screen again.
The shots were sharp and natural, a touching record of a happy young woman in the last hours she had spent with her father, starting with her emerging from the arrivals gate at Heathrow pushing a trolley containing the backpack decorated with badges. Then beside a silver car — presumably Hitomi’s — and in the passenger seat. The next was at a front door that must have been his; and indoors at a table, teacup in hand. Several more showed her in the sushi bar, one with her father at her side. There were some street scenes on Lavender Hill, Mari with arms outstretched, revelling in being in this new setting. The sequence ended at a mainline station that had to be Paddington. She was wearing the backpack and turning to wave as she walked towards a train, still smiling — a poignant final picture that moistened even Peter Diamond’s eyes.
‘These are just what we need. Can we get copies?’
Gilbert said, ‘We can send them to Manvers Street right now if Mr. Hitomi agrees.’
‘Did you hear that?’ Diamond asked Hitomi. ‘These pictures are precious to you, I’m sure, but they’ll help us catch her killer. The only likeness we have isn’t much of a likeness at all. Show it to him, Paul.’
Gilbert used his own phone to bring up the computer image and turn it through several angles. For all the work that had been done, it didn’t bear much resemblance apart from the hairstyle. Comparison with the genuine images they had just examined was a harsh test. The only test more harsh was showing it to her own father.