The year drew to a close.
Shindo had cultivated a new asset in Station Q. He’d left the man, Takeshi Sato, with standing instructions to investigate the situation between Yanagi and Mitsui. They should both have a Model 36. Take your time, be thorough. Despite his words, the passing of time had left Shindo feeling increasingly agitated. Yanagi was dangerous. And Shindo could not accept the way he’d tried to use Sone, a man already standing on a cliff edge, as leverage in his plan. He needed definitive evidence to relieve the man of his badge, and soon.
He was the misfit.
The new year came amidst an atmosphere of frustration. Kanako had come home for the end of December but returned to Tokyo on New Year’s Eve, claiming their daughter had cram sessions during the first few days of the year. Was that really the way to go about achieving your dreams? Shindo just didn’t get it.
He was sorting through their New Year cards when the fax began to buzz. He ignored it, assuming it to be Kanako’s usual update, only to discover an hour later that it had ejected a blank sheet. He rushed to dial Sato’s number. It was 3 January. Sato had taken advantage of the holidays to get what he needed. That had to be it.
‘Did you get something?’
‘Sir, it seems neither Yanagi nor Mitsui owns a Brand Z.’
‘Seems?’
‘Not that I could see, at least.’
Shindo ended the call. This was, he supposed, the limit of what they could realistically do. If the machines were hidden, it would be next to impossible to find them. There was also the chance that they had been sent for scrap. Only when you were writing your own scenario, as Yanagi had, was it possible to categorically state that someone had or did not have something in their possession.
Except that . . .
The same logic didn’t apply in the case of Mitsui. The latter would have no knowledge of the fact that he’d been set up. He would have no reason to hide anything. Which meant Sato should have found something when he’d searched the man’s home.
He doesn’t have one?
It didn’t make sense. Yanagi’s plan would fall apart if Mitsui wasn’t in possession of a Model 36. He had to have one for the conclusion to play out.
Which means . . .?
Shindo couldn’t sleep that night. It was almost sunrise when the first ripples of an idea disturbed the quiet of his mind. These grew into tall, overpowering waves, which eventually drove him from his bed. A scene from his raid on Station Q was stuck on repeat, cast in a blinding light. Accompanying this was the beating pulse of Mizutani’s voice. Shindo was almost in despair by the time the sun finally came up.
He’d realised the truth.