IWATA WOKE IN AN EMPTY apartment. Sakai was nowhere to be seen. His phone was ringing. Head pounding, he struggled to his feet and answered.
“Hatanaka?”
“I’ve called you, like, fifty times. Are you okay?”
“I’m standing.”
“Well, the boss hasn’t heard from you yet, and he’s pretty pissed off—”
“Forget that. Now did you find out where that body was taken?”
“I got what you need. Hideo Akashi jumped from Rainbow Bridge on February seventeenth at 1 A.M. First, he was taken to Saiseikai Central Hospital, where he was pronounced dead, then on to Chiba University Hospital for identification where a … Doctor Taniguchi signed for him.”
“Good. Where are you?”
“Setagaya PD.”
“I’m on my way.”
* * *
A few minutes north of Minowabashi Station, between a barber’s and a secondhand electronics store, Sakai stopped outside a small apartment block. She made her way up narrow stairs and heard soap operas, and vacuum cleaners through thin doors. She stopped outside Oshino’s door and knocked three times.
“Who is it?”
“Open up, police.”
Oshino opened the door, rubbing his face off with a towel. His neck and cheeks were raw pink from a recent shave, his vest bright white, and the brawn in his bare arms clearly defined.
“Noriko, come in.”
She smelled cloves and soap as she passed.
“Morning, champ. Sorry I’m early.”
She held up a bag of pastries and two polystyrene coffee cups. Smiling, Oshino led her into a sparse apartment. She tossed her jacket on his bed, sat cross-legged at the low table, and laid out the pastries on paper plates.
“You used to have a sweet tooth,” she said. “Hopefully, you haven’t grown out of it.”
Oshino sat across from her and ate half a croissant in one bite.
“Nobody grows out of sweetness.”
“How infantile.” She poured two sachets of sugar into her coffee, sipped it and looked at Oshino. He had grown into his features seamlessly, his scars beautiful. She liked the way the muscles in his face rippled when he changed expression. And she liked being able to say a few words to make that happen.
“Never married?”
Oshino shook his head gently. He didn’t return the question.
“No girlfriend?”
“Intermittently.”
“Boyfriend?”
He laughed, looked down at the cup, and stirred his coffee.
“You never used to be able to take your eyes off me,” Sakai said. “Have I aged that badly?”
“Come on, my entire gym dropped what they were doing to look at you.”
“But not you. You can’t look at me.”
He glanced up. Sakai was smiling but he couldn’t register humor in her words.
“Noriko, it’s not easy.”
“What isn’t?”
“Looking at you … it’s like looking at the past.”
“But the past holds good things too. Sweet memories.”
“Bittersweet.” Oshino looked down at his coffee and resumed stirring. “For me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was the one that walked out. And now I walk back in and give you a hard time.”
He shook his head.
“It’s good to see you, Noriko. I’m just bad with words.”
They shared homesick smiles for a moment until Sakai cleared her throat. Oshino went into his bedroom and returned with a small plastic folder that he placed carefully on the table.
“This is her, the girl that you’re looking for. But there’s hardly anything. No birth certificate, no school records, no nothing until the age of twelve. She’s a ghost.”
“What happens at twelve?”
“Open it.”
Sakai opened the folder and took out a microfiche printout of a newspaper article from the Nagasaki Shimbun.
July 12, 1996
A thirty-year-old woman stabbed a man to death on the Michimori Shrine Ropeway yesterday evening. Keiko Shimizu, an unemployed mother of one, of no fixed abode, jumped from the cable car to her death after committing the crime. The victim, Hirokazu Ina, was a nineteen-year-old student who worked part-time for the ropeway. It is understood that Mr. Ina was stabbed while attempting to dissuade the woman from opening the cable car door. Local police have ruled out any kind of personal relationship or vendetta between the two as the aggressor was hitherto unknown to the victim.
Hideo Akashi, an off-duty police officer from Tokyo, happened to be on the cable car at the time of the attack. “I attempted to stop the young woman from jumping but she was very disturbed,” he said, adding, “I’m just glad that more people weren’t hurt.”
The incident is the latest in a series of setbacks to affect the newly opened ropeway. Owned by a local energy magnate, the Michimori Shrine Ropeway has been dogged by poor ticket sales and technical difficulties since its opening early last year.
The woman’s twelve-year-old daughter, Midori Anzai, has been taken into state care. Keiko Shimizu’s father, Yukitoshi, a Nagasaki resident, declined to comment.
Sakai put down the article.
“That’s her.” Oshino tapped the bottom of the clipping. “It has to be.”
“What happens to her after the ropeway?”
“It’s a puzzle. Orphanages, foster families all over Japan, and then nothing. Maybe she died. Maybe something else. Could be a name change. Could have moved to Botswana. Whatever happened, the trail runs out.”
Sakai looked out of the window.
“Who is she?” Oshino swallowed his coffee in one. “Midori Anzai?”
“Someone you don’t ask me about.”
“All right, understood.”
From the back of the folder, she took out an address written on a Post-it note.
“What’s this?”
“The girl’s grandfather from the article,” Oshino said. “He’s still in Nagasaki.”
Sakai closed the folder and stood up.
“Thank you for this. I mean it, Oshino.”
Sakai kissed him on the cheek and picked up her jacket.
“See you around, champ.”
Oshino jumped up and followed her to the door.
“But I won’t see you, will I?”
Sakai smiled and wiped sugar grains from his lip with her little finger.
“I don’t think so.”
* * *
A knock came at the door of the Chiba University Hospital office of Doctor Ken Taniguchi. Iwata and Hatanaka entered, the latter now wearing a new but ill-fitting gray suit. Iwata had on his usual intent expression.
“Doctor Taniguchi? I’m Inspector Iwata of Shibuya Division One.” He took out his police credentials. “This is Assistant Inspector Hatanaka.”
Taniguchi gestured at the seats opposite, somewhat alarmed at the curt tone with which he was being addressed.
“You signed for the body of Inspector Hideo Akashi last month, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“We have some questions. Could we see the file?”
Taniguchi nodded, turned to his computer, and peered at the monitor over his spectacles. It took him a few moments to find the right file.
“Here we are. Hideo Akashi. Suicide.”
“Could you print that for me?”
Taniguchi complied, then passed across a single page. Iwata and Hatanaka peered at it.
“Doctor, you signed off on this body, is that correct?” Iwata said.
“That’s right.”
“But Doctor,” Hatanaka interjected, “this says that the medical examination wasn’t carried out by you.”
“That’s right.”
Iwata took back the baton.
“You’re the chief pathologist here, correct?”
“Yes. But this procedure was carried out by my assistant at the time. It was perfectly normal for her to carry out the examination.”
“Name?”
“Ayako Wakatsuki. She was a very promising student.”
“Was?”
“Is.”
“I’d like to speak with her.”
Taniguchi shifted in his seat, looking up from Iwata to Hatanaka and back again.
“Inspector, do you mind me asking what this is about?”
“Frankly, I do.” He pointed to the file. “Are there are no photographs of the body?”
“No, why would there be?”
“There was nothing strange about Akashi’s death, then?”
Taniguchi sat back.
“Not to my knowledge.”
Iwata looked over his shoulder at Hatanaka, who said nothing. Iwata turned back. Taniguchi was clearly unsettled, but his face was too uninterested, an inexperienced poker player laying down a weak hand.
“Doctor, you’re lying.”
Taniguchi laughed incredulously.
“I have nothing to lie about.”
There was a moment of silence and Iwata smiled venomously.
“Doctor, if I ask Assistant Inspector Hatanaka to lock this door, he will. But I would rather not have to ask him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Taniguchi exhaled, his resistance gone.
“I don’t want to have anything to do with this once we’re done, is that understood?”
“Talk first, Doctor. Then we’ll see.”
Taniguchi ran a hand through his gray hair.
“Okay. It was Wakatsuki. She found some … irregularities with Akashi’s examination.”
Iwata could hardly breathe.
“Go on.”
“You should really speak with Wakatsuki herself, I’m not quite sure. Superintendent Fujimura made it clear that this matter should not be discussed.”
Iwata and Hatanaka shared a look.
“Fujimura,” Iwata spat. “You spoke to Fujimura?”
“Directly. I called him to tell him there could possibly be a basis for an autopsy and the public prosecutor would have to be contacted. He became … very angry. He made it clear that it was unacceptable to create such a stink over such a sad event. He was very clear—he did not believe this matter to be anything other than a tragedy.”
“And then?”
“He found out Wakatsuki had carried out the examination. The next morning, she requested a transfer to a different faculty. She was a very promising student, so it’s a real shame, as I say.”
“All right.” Iwata folded Akashi’s examination page away. “So where is Ayako Wakatsuki?”