Keigo Higashino: Salvation of a Saint

‘Oh, right. No, they can’t get hold of her. She’s all the way up in Sapporo, and a distance outside the city, besides. Even if they do get through, she probably won’t be able to get back until tomorrow at the earliest.’

‘No, I guess not, not from the middle of Hokkaido,’ Kusanagi said, inwardly relieved. If the wife were on her way, someone would have to wait around for her, and knowing Division Chief Mamiya, that someone would almost definitely be Kusanagi. It was late enough at this point that going around asking the neighbours questions would probably have to wait until tomorrow. Kusanagi had just begun to dream that he might be able to go home when Mamiya’s square face appeared in the doorway.

‘There you are, Kusanagi. Glad you decided to show up.’

‘I got here ages ago. Kishitani filled me in.’

Mamiya nodded, then turned to look back outside. ‘Please, come right in,’ he said, ushering into the living room a slender woman in her mid-twenties. Her hair, just above shoulder length, was natural black — unusual for a woman her age these days, Kusanagi thought. The colour set off the whiteness of her skin. Although, given the circumstances, it might’ve been more appropriate to say she looked pale. Either way, she was definitely attractive and knew how to use her make-up.

Hiromi Wakayama, I presume.

‘You were saying that you discovered the body as soon as you walked into the room, correct?’ Mamiya was asking her. ‘So you would have been standing right about where you are now?’

The woman stopped looking at the floor long enough to glance in the direction of the sofa, remembering the moment of the discovery.

‘Yes,’ she answered in a thin voice. ‘Right around here.’

Maybe it was the fact that she was skinny, or the paleness of her face, but to Kusanagi it looked as though the woman was having trouble just standing. She’s still in shock, he thought, and no wonder.

‘And the last time you were in this room before then was the night before last?’ Mamiya asked, for confirmation.

Hiromi nodded.

‘Is anything different about the room now from how you saw it then? Anything at all? Even little details are fine.’

She looked almost fearfully around the room for a moment, then quickly shook her head. ‘I’m not sure. There were a lot of other people here the night before, and we’d just eaten dinner...’ Her voice was trembling.

Mamiya nodded, his eyebrows drawing sympathetically closer together as if to say, It’s all right, of course you don’t remember.

‘Well, we won’t keep you here any longer tonight. You should go home and get some rest. We’ll most likely need to talk with you again tomorrow, if that’s all right?’

‘That’s fine,’ she said, ‘but I’m afraid there’s really not much I can tell you.’

‘I know, but we have to be sure we have as much information as possible. I hope you will be able to help us.’

‘Okay,’ Hiromi said, without looking up.

‘I’ll have one of my men take you home,’ Mamiya said, looking over at Kusanagi. ‘How’d you get here tonight? Did you bring your car?’

‘Taxi, sorry.’

‘Figures you would choose today to leave your car behind.’

‘I haven’t been driving much recently.’

Mamiya was clucking his tongue in disapproval when Utsumi said, ‘I brought mine.’

Kusanagi turned. ‘You drive? In Tokyo? On your salary?’

‘I was out at a restaurant when the call came in. Sorry.’

‘No need to apologize,’ Mamiya said. ‘Maybe you can drive Ms Wakayama home?’

‘Certainly. If I might ask her a question first, though?’

‘What question?’ Mamiya asked, shocked at the abrupt request from the new recruit.

Hiromi visibly tensed.

‘I understand Mr Mashiba was drinking coffee when he fell, and I was wondering if he was in the habit of not using a saucer with his cup?’

Hiromi’s eyes widened slightly and her gaze wandered off to one side. ‘Well, I suppose he wouldn’t, maybe, if he was drinking alone.’

‘That would mean that he had a visitor either yesterday or today,’ Utsumi said with confidence. ‘Any idea who that might have been?’

Kusanagi looked up at her. ‘How do you know he had a visitor?’

‘There’s an unwashed coffee cup and two saucers still in the kitchen sink. If Mr Mashiba had been drinking coffee alone, it doesn’t make sense that there would be one saucer out, let alone two.’

Kishitani went into the kitchen and came right back out. ‘She’s right. One cup, and two saucers.’

Kusanagi exchanged glances with Mamiya before turning again to the young Hiromi Wakayama.

‘Any ideas?’ he asked her.

She shook her head. ‘I... I don’t know.’ There was anxiety in her voice. ‘I mean, I haven’t been here since the party the other night. How would I know if he’d had any visitors?’

Kusanagi glanced at the chief again. Mamiya nodded, a troubled look on his face. ‘Right, well, we’ve kept you here long enough. You’ll see her home, Utsumi? Kusanagi, you can go with them.’

‘Yes sir,’ Kusanagi said, understanding instinctively what Mamiya wanted. The young Ms Wakayama was clearly hiding something, and it would be his job to get her to spill the beans.

The three left the house together, and Utsumi asked them to wait while she went to get the car, which she had left in a nearby car park.

While they were waiting, Kusanagi kept an eye on the woman next to him. She looked crushed — and he didn’t think her shock at finding a body was entirely to blame.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘Were you planning on going out anywhere tonight?’

‘Tonight? Are you kidding?’

‘I was just wondering if you might’ve had any prior engagements.’

Hiromi’s lips moved slightly. She looked hesitant, uncertain.

Kusanagi said: ‘Sorry if you’ve already heard this a hundred times, but if you don’t mind me asking...’

‘Yes?’

‘What exactly made you call Mr Mashiba tonight?’

‘Oh, well, since Mrs Mashiba left her key with me, I thought she wanted me to check in now and then. I think she was worried about leaving her husband all by himself, so if there was anything I could do to help...’ Her voice trailed off.

‘So when you couldn’t reach him, you came to the house?’

‘Yes,’ she said with a little nod.

Kusanagi raised an eyebrow. ‘But surely people don’t always answer their phone — mobile or landline. Maybe he was out and couldn’t pick up for some reason? Didn’t you consider that possibility?’

After a moment’s silence, Hiromi shook her head. ‘I guess I didn’t.’

‘Why not? Were you worried about something in particular?’

‘No, nothing like that. I guess I just had a strange feeling...’

‘A “strange” feeling?’

‘Is it wrong to come to somebody’s house because something didn’t feel right?’

‘No, of course not. I was impressed, actually. Not everyone who is given a house key feels so much responsibility. And, as it turned out, your strange feeling was right on the money, so I think you deserve praise for what you did.’

Hiromi looked away, apparently disinclined to take Kusanagi’s words at face value.

A dark red Mitsubishi Pajero SUV stopped in front of the house. The door opened and Kaoru Utsumi stepped out.

‘Four-wheel drive?’ Kusanagi gaped.

‘It’s a smoother ride than you might expect,’ Utsumi said. ‘Ms Wakayama?’ She opened the back door and Hiromi got inside. Kusanagi followed her in.

Utsumi got in the driver’s seat and began setting the GPS — apparently she already knew Ms Wakayama’s ad — dress. It was an apartment near the Gakugei Daigaku train station. Not long after the car had started moving, Hiromi leaned forward. ‘Was what happened to Mr Mashiba not an accident or... or a suicide?’