Keigo Higashino: Salvation of a Saint

Utsumi was staring at Ayane’s face; barely a ripple passed across the woman’s benign expression. Her eyes as she looked towards Kusanagi were calm.

‘I see. In the filter,’ she echoed, no trace of surprise in her voice.

‘The problem was figuring out how the poison got into the filter. Based on evidence found at the scene, there was really only one method the killer could have used. And, based on this method, there’s only one possible suspect.’ Kusanagi stared at Ayane. ‘That’s why we need you to come with us.’

The faintest blush came to Ayane’s cheeks, but the smile remained upon her lips. ‘Do you have evidence that there was poison in the water filter?’

‘Arsenous acid was detected in the filter after thorough testing. However, that was insufficient proof, given that all indications were that the killer put the poison in the filter a whole year earlier. What we needed to prove was that the poison was present in sufficient quantities to be lethal on the day of Mr Mashiba’s death. In other words, we needed to prove that the water filter had not been used, washing out the poison inside, for an entire year.’

Utsumi noted that Ayane’s long eyelashes twitched at the precise moment Kusanagi said ‘an entire year’.

‘And did you prove it?’

‘I myself was flabbergasted when I first heard the theory that the killer had put the poison in place an entire year ago,’ Kusanagi said. ‘But you don’t seem surprised at all, Mrs Mashiba.’

‘I’m sorry if I’m not reacting. It’s just that everything you’re saying is so outlandish, I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

‘I see,’ Kusanagi said. He shot Utsumi a look. The junior detective reached into her handbag and pulled out a plastic bag.

The smile finally faded from Ayane’s face as she saw what was in the bag.

‘I’m sure you recognize this,’ Kusanagi said. ‘You opened holes in the bottom of this empty can to water your flowers.’

‘I thought you threw that out...’

‘I held onto it, actually. Didn’t even wash it,’ Kusanagi said, a hard look returning to his face. ‘You remember my friend Yukawa, the physicist? I had him examine this can in his lab. To make a long story short, he found arsenous acid. We were also able to determine that the acid had been in water from your filter. I also happen to have been present the last time this can was used — you were watering the flowers on your second-floor balcony. Hiromi Wakayama came and interrupted you halfway through. The can wasn’t used after that, because I bought a new watering can, and kept this one in my desk drawer.’

Ayane’s eyes went wide. ‘In your desk drawer? Why?’

Kusanagi didn’t answer. Instead, he said, in a voice completely devoid of emotion, ‘We have to conclude that there was arsenous acid in the water filter, enough so that any water from that filter would’ve contained a lethal amount on the day Mr Mashiba died. Other evidence shows clearly that the poison was inserted into the filter a year ago. The person who would have been able to carry out this crime was someone who could have prevented anyone from using that filter for an entire year — and there’s only one person who could have done that.’

Utsumi swallowed, still watching Ayane’s face. Their beautiful suspect’s eyes were downcast, her lips tightly shut. Though a trace of a smile lingered on her face, the aura of elegance around her had begun to fade.

‘We’ll talk more at the station,’ Kusanagi said.

Ayane looked up. She breathed a deep sigh, and stared directly at Kusanagi. ‘All right. I’ll just be a bit longer.’

‘No rush. Take your time getting your things together.’

‘It’s not just that. I also want to water the flowers. I hadn’t finished when you arrived.’

‘By all means.’

Ayane nodded and opened the door to the balcony. Hefting the large watering can in both hands, she slowly began to sprinkle the potted flowers.

Ayane recalled a day about one year earlier when she was watering her flowers, just as she was doing now. The day she heard the truth from Yoshitaka . She had listened to him while she stared at the pansies in the planter.

Her friend Junko had loved pansies. The pen name she chose, ‘Violet Butterfly’, was a nickname for the flower.

She had met Junko in a bookshop in London. Ayane was there looking for patchwork designs. She reached out for a book of photos just as another girl reached for the same book. The other girl was Japanese, too, and several years older than Ayane.

The two became close friends in no time at all, exploring London together, and they made an effort to keep in touch once they returned to Japan. Junko moved to Tokyo a short while after Ayane arrived in the city.

Though they were both busy with work, and didn’t meet often, they remained close. Junko was one of the few people with whom Ayane felt she could truly be herself. She knew that Junko valued their friendship as much as she did — maybe even more. Junko was even worse than she was at meeting people.

Then one day Junko told her there was someone she wanted Ayane to meet: the CEO of a company that had used one of her character designs in an online anime.

‘We were talking about making some toys to go with the character, and when I told him I knew a patchwork specialist, he said he had to meet you. I know you’re busy, but if you have any time at all, it might be worth it.’

Junko sounded hesitant to impose, but Ayane was delighted. And that was how she had met Yoshitaka Mashiba.

In a word, Yoshitaka was alluring. His face came alive when he talked about his ideas, and his eyes brimmed with confidence. He was good at getting other people to talk, too, so much so that just chatting with him for a few minutes had made her feel eloquent.

They were walking away from the café after he had left when Ayane smiled and said, ‘What a great guy.’

‘Isn’t he?’ Junko said, happily. One look at her friend’s face revealed the extent of Junko’s feelings for Yoshitaka.

Even now, Ayane regretted not asking her, not making sure. All she would’ve had to ask was, ‘Are you two dating?’ But she didn’t, and Junko offered nothing.

The plan to include patchwork in one of the character designs was ultimately scrapped. Afterwards, Yoshitaka called her directly to apologize for taking up her time. He offered to treat her to dinner in the near future to make up for it.

Ayane assumed he was just being polite, but a few days later he called again with a real invitation. The way he invited her made it clear that he was inviting only her — Junko wasn’t involved. I guess they’re not dating, she told herself.

She met Yoshitaka for dinner, her heart fluttering. Being alone, just the two of them, was even more fun than the last time she had seen him.

Ayane’s feelings towards Yoshitaka grew rapidly. At the same time, she could feel herself pulling away from Junko. Knowing her friend’s interest in Yoshitaka made it somehow harder to pick up the phone and call her.

When she met Junko again several months later, she was startled at the change in the other woman. Junko had become shockingly thin, and she looked years older. But when Ayane asked if she was feeling okay, her friend insisted she was fine, and that was the end of it.

As they talked about recent events, Junko seemed to perk back up. Then, just when Ayane was contemplating telling her about Yoshitaka, Junko’s face went pale.

Ayane asked what was wrong, but Junko didn’t answer. She stood abruptly, saying that she had just remembered something she had to do, that she had to go home. Bewildered, Ayane walked outside with her and watched her get into a taxi.