Kyoko Nakamura glared daggers at the student who stood in front of her on the crowded subway train. The girl—a high school student dressed in uniform—wore earphones connected to a smartphone, the screen of which she fixated on. But what irritated Kyoko was the volume on the music. Loud enough that she could hear it as if she were the one wearing the earphones.
It was some insipid pop idol group—screeching, auto-tuned voices belting out bubbly lyrics that seemed to have been written with Mad Libs. Kyoko tried to ignore it and instead looked at the route map above the doors. Next stop was Namba Station, thankfully.
If only the train weren’t so crowded. The benches filled up fast and everyone else was crammed into the aisles. Salarymen, students, housewives, all manner of people packed in the train like sardines.
Just another morning in Osaka.
The train finally reached its destination and the peppy, pre-recorded voice announced over the PA system that they’d reached Namba Station. People filed out in an orderly fashion, moving for the doors. And on the platform, new passengers waited patiently for the departing ones to finish disembarking.
Kyoko brushed strands of her chin-length, dark hair behind her ear and followed the crowd toward the escalators. Her hands were in her pocket, grasping hold of the pack of Seven Stars and the lighter. She wanted nothing more than to move to one of the designated outdoor smoking areas, but instead she waited. Better to get to the office first.
The streets of Namba were already bustling with activity. The twists and turns of the neighborhood—coupled with the lack of street signs—could easily get a newcomer lost. But Kyoko had walked these streets so many times in the past few years, she knew them better than she knew herself.
As she moved deeper into the neighborhood, the number of people around her decreased significantly. Soon, she was walking down the alleys and only spotted a few other people milling about.
Kyoko walked into the front entrance of a building. The front door led to an elevator and a staircase. Looking at the elevator light, she saw it was up on the sixth floor already. Rather than push the button and wait, she climbed the six flights of stairs and came to a door with the sign ‘NAKAMURA DETECTIVE AGENCY’ on the surface. She turned the handle and found it was unlocked, meaning her colleagues had already arrived.
The door hadn’t even closed before Kyoko took out the pack of Seven Stars and placed a cigarette between her lips. She walked down the corridor and past the bathroom before entering the larger reception area, lighting her cigarette as she moved.
She bid her coworkers ‘good morning’ with a half-hearted, “Ohayo.”
Two desks were next to each other right in front of the windows. Behind the one on the left, focused on a laptop computer, was a girl in her early twenties with hair dyed blond and a good amount of makeup applied to her face. The man in the desk beside her was a big guy—older, late twenties, his hair cropped short to his head. Both of them grunted “Ohayo gozaimasu” in response to Kyoko’s greeting.
A couch rested against the wall across from the two desks. Kyoko sat on it and enjoyed her cigarette. There was a small table by the side with an ashtray resting on it. After a few puffs, Kyoko discarded some of the building ash and looked at the girl.
“You’re earlier than usual, Saori.”
Saori rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me. My roommate’s got this new yoga DVD. When five o’clock hits, that damn thing is waking me up and I see her ass right in my face.”
Kyoko chuckled, then looked at the man. “What are you up to, Nobu?”
“Finishing up that background check for Mr. Kubo.” Nobu closed the lid on his laptop and looked at Kyoko. “Pretty standard stuff. Some traffic tickets, but nothing serious.”
“Boring, but at least it keeps the lights on.”
Kyoko held the cigarette between her lips and walked to the small kitchen connected to the main office. She flicked on the light and took a glass from the cupboard above the sink. From the refrigerator, she grabbed a carton labeled ICE COFFEE and filled the glass with it. Kyoko took the cigarette from her mouth just long enough to sip the cold coffee, then returned to the office.
She walked across the office to a smaller room opposite the kitchen. Opening the door, she looked around at the contents—her desk with laptop resting on top, corkboard mounted behind the desk, photos and documents pinned to it. A rolling whiteboard rested against one of the walls and there were some photographs hanging up. Photos of Kyoko with her parents and sister, and one of her in a police uniform standing alongside an older man.
Kyoko went to her desk, but before she could sit, she heard unfamiliar voices from the other room.
“Shitsurei shimasu.”
She stamped out the remnants of the cigarette, left the coffee on her desk, and walked back to the door. Leaning against the frame, she saw both Saori and Nobu stand and bow. Near the corridor was a couple, maybe in their forties or fifties.
“Mr. Nakamura,” said the man, approaching Nobu’s desk and bowing. “Please excuse our interruption. I’m Kosei Suzuki and this is my wife, Tomiko.”
The wife bowed as well and said, “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu,” a standard Japanese phrase when meeting someone.
“Welcome, Mr. Suzuki, but I’m not Nakamura,” said Nobu.
“I am,” said Kyoko, finally chiming in. She stepped from the open office door and noted the looks of surprise on both Kosei and Tomiko’s faces. Female private detectives weren’t exactly the norm in Japan, so she’d gotten used to those looks. Kyoko bowed to them both. “I’m Kyoko Nakamura. This is Noburo Tsuji and Saori Ikeda, my associates.”
Both Nobu and Saori bowed again.
“Is there something I can help you with?” asked Kyoko.
“Yes, as a matter of fact…” Kosei seemed a little hesitant. “Can we talk?”
“Of course, please.” Kyoko stepped into her office and gestured inside to her desk. Once the Suzukis entered, Kyoko stuck her head out into the reception area. “Saori, could you bring us some tea?”
Saori gave a quick bow and moved to the kitchen. Kyoko closed the door to her office and circled around behind her desk. The Suzukis remained standing, but Kyoko asked them to have a seat. They both did so, taking the two chairs in front of her desk.
“Now, how can I help you today?” asked Kyoko.
“It’s about our daughter,” said Kosei.
When parents came to Kyoko about their children, it was usually one of a few things. Most times, it was the prospect of an engagement—they wanted to ensure their son or daughter was marrying into a decent family. Other times, it was a missing person’s case. The look on Tomiko’s face suggested the latter.
“Our daughter is Akane Suzuki.” Kosei said the name like it was supposed to mean something. It took him a moment of studying Kyoko’s reaction before he continued. “She was a member of Koibito.”
“Oh!” Realization struck Kyoko at that moment. “The idol group?”
Kosei nodded. “That’s correct. She was fired last year, a scandal involving a boyfriend.”
“How do you think I can help?” asked Kyoko. “I can’t do anything about a contractual dispute. You’d have to talk to a lawyer, and—”
“No, Ms. Nakamura…Akane is…” Kosei hesitated.
“Dead.”
It was the first thing Tomiko had said since entering the office. Kyoko leaned back in her chair and offered a sigh. “I’m very sorry.”
There was a knock at the door and then Saori entered, carrying a tray with two cups on it. She brought the tray to the desk and set a cup of green tea in front of both Kosei and Tomiko. After bowing, Saori excused herself and left the office, closing the door once again.
“The police told us it was suicide, that she’d jumped from her balcony,” said Kosei, sipping his tea. “I told them they were wrong. Akane has had trouble, but she wouldn’t have killed herself.”
“She was fired from the group because of this scandal. What else can you tell me about her?” asked Kyoko.
“She moved into a small, one-room apartment in Shinsekai,” said Kosei. “We gave her some money, but we don’t have much. She’d been avoiding us for some time. Ever since the scandal.”
“Do you know what she was doing for money?”
“We heard from her a few weeks before…” Tomiko paused, having difficulty with the word. “She said she was trying to start her career as a solo artist. She was very excited.”
Kyoko reached for a notebook and flipped open to a blank page. She took a pen and jotted down quick notes about what the Suzukis had just told her. “What else did the police tell you?”
“They think drugs may have been involved, but Akane would never get involved with that,” said Kosei.
Kyoko sighed and set the notebook on the desk. She’d seen this countless times when she was a police officer. Parents in denial, refusing to believe their child would ever succumb to the temptation of drug use.
“I would like to help you, but I want you to consider what the police have told you,” she said. “Going from the life of an idol to living in a one-room apartment can be a difficult transition. Drug use is not unheard of. Neither is suicide.”
“It’s not true!” barked Kosei. Tomiko set a hand on his knee and he took a breath, trying to relax. “Please, you have to help us.”
“Detective agencies in Japan aren’t like what you see in American movies,” said Kyoko. “We mostly deal with infidelity, background checks, missing persons, things of that nature. But potential homicides are best left to the police.”
“The police won’t do anything, we tried to convince them,” said Kosei.
“Please, Ms. Nakamura. You’re our only hope,” said Tomiko. “The inspector said you could help us.”
Kyoko’s demeanor changed when she heard that. “Inspector?”
“Yes, Inspector…” Kosei paused, trying to remember the name. “Inspector Hashimoto. He told us the Nakamura Detective Agency might be able to help.”
Kyoko tapped the pen against her lips. If Takeshi Hashimoto felt there was something unusual about this case, maybe it wasn’t just a simple suicide. But Kyoko had her own cases to worry about. Leaning forward, she set the pen down.
“I’ll do a preliminary investigation. If I find there’s evidence of something suspicious, I’ll take on the case.”
“You will?” Tomiko’s spirits seemed to brighten.
“But, I have to ask that you prepare yourselves for the worst,” said Kyoko. “If I find I agree with the police assessment, will you accept my conclusion?”
“Yes, of course,” said Kosei. “We just want to know the truth.”
“Okay.” Kyoko picked up her pen and notebook. “Now tell me everything about Akane. No detail is too insignificant."