Кэйго Хигасино - The Name of the Game is a Kidnapping

“Same here. Did he kill her knowing she was the daughter of Nissei’s EVP?”

“Who knows? They aren’t sharing any details with us,” Sugimoto said. He glanced around and covered his mouth with his hand. “Apparently, this girl Juri who got killed wasn’t the child of his current wife.”

“Oh, that, I heard that too.”

“Plus, she wasn’t by his first wife.”

“Huh, then whose child was she?”

“His mistress. He took her in and raised her.”

“Wow, Mr. Katsuragi, of all people.”

“It might be because I know that, but his wife doesn’t seem half as crushed as Mr. Katsuragi. The troublesome child from his old flame died, so maybe she’s sighing with relief.”

At his words, my colleagues who’d been listening to Sugimoto let a chuckle slip. Kozuka didn’t miss that.

“No unnecessary chatter. We’re not the only people here.”

Scolded, Sugimoto and the others ducked their heads.

I was a little surprised that they knew a little about the secret of Juri’s birth. I’d assumed it was the Katsuragi family’s biggest secret. Even the daytime shows were glossing over that part. The dynamic — fearing the wrath of a leading sponsor — was at work for the time being. But if Sugimoto and the others had heard about it, that meant the information had leaked from somewhere. Even Katsutoshi Katsuragi couldn’t pull over the iron curtain once we were dealing with a dead body.

At any rate, I was stuck on Sugimoto’s last line. Indeed, Juri’s death must have streamlined the Katsuragis’ complicated situation. Of course, how the Katsuragis themselves saw it was a mystery.

Chiharu Katsuragi, the fake Juri, hadn’t made an appearance at the vigil. No explanation was given for this, but they must have told relatives and close friends that she wasn’t handling the shock well. She was even skipping school, so it wasn’t as though that explanation wasn’t persuasive.

However, I suspected there was a different reason Chiharu hadn’t shown herself. In short, she didn’t want to see me. What I might say to her scared her.

Katsutoshi Katsuragi, or rather, the Katsuragi family was hiding something. And they were plotting. That was something I didn’t doubt.

Juri Katsuragi’s remains had been on a hill on the Miura Peninsula. A local resident had found her buried in the ground. Despite the advanced state of decay, from a partial fingerprint, her dental impression, and so on, it became clear that she was the missing Juri.

It was judged to be a murder based on the traces of a sharp object piercing her heart and causing massive blood loss. Some of her clothes had been removed and they couldn’t find her personal belongings.

The place where her remains had been unearthed was something I couldn’t help thinking about. Wasn’t it that spot? I’d been invited by Juri, no, Chiharu to that hill where you could see the stars so well. The news didn’t give the precise location, but I felt it couldn’t be anywhere but there.

If that was the case, then why had Juri’s remains been there? Why had Chiharu wanted to go to that place with me?

It was right when I was finishing my beer. I felt someone’s presence and looked to the side. Katsutoshi Katsuragi was standing at the entrance. He was staring.

When I turned to look at him, he averted his gaze. Then he came inside. Everyone in the room had noticed by then and was beginning to sit up straight.

“Ah, as you were. Please make yourselves comfortable. Please.” With a restraining gesture, Katsutoshi Katsuragi looked around the room. Then he bowed. “Thank you for everything regarding my daughter. I truly am sorry for causing you trouble at such a busy time for your work. The police have promised to do whatever they can to apprehend the culprit. That day isn’t far away, I trust. However, what has to do with my daughter has to do with my daughter and is a private matter of the Katsuragi household when all is said and done. The daily work of Nissei Automobile and its business partners absolutely cannot be obstructed by what has happened. Please, everyone continue with your various plans, without undue concern. I intend to resume work as quickly as possible as well. Thank you very much for today.”

Katsutoshi Katsuragi bowed his head deeply once again.

Returning a bow like everyone else, I thought about Katsuragi’s earlier gaze. He had been looking in my direction. No, without a doubt, he had been looking at me.

That night, accessing the internet and reading a flash news headline, I couldn’t but gasp.

“Juri Katsuragi Actually Kidnapped,” it said. I double-clicked with my trembling fingers.

According to a police spokesman, the disappearance of Nissei Automobile EVP Katsutoshi Katsuragi’s first-born daughter, Juri, who was recently found dead, was in fact a kidnapping. The culprit had contacted the family shortly after her disappearance, but Mr. Katsuragi had refrained from notifying the police to avoid endangering his daughter. The ransom was paid, and a police investigation was launched, but the facts were withheld from the public for the sake of Juri’s wellbeing—

I was dumbfounded in front of the computer screen for some time. Katsutoshi Katsuragi really hadn’t notified the police. That meant those feints meant for our opponents, the police, during that elaborate ransom exchange were all for nothing.

Why had Katsuragi not told the police? The talk of keeping his daughter safe just wasn’t credible. Juri and Chiharu changing places, Juri getting murdered — all of it had to be connected.

Katsuragi’s gaze from the vigil was burned into my eyelids and wasn’t going away.

That man knew that I was the kidnapper. Of course he did, having heard everything from Chiharu, no doubt. What was his aim?

When the next day came, reports with even more details flooded in. Communicating via the CPT Owners Club bulletin board, the ransom exchange on the Metropolitan Expressway, and almost everything else I had done started going public. The Nissei Mukojima branch manager, in particular, was all over TV getting interviewed. The Juri Katsuragi kidnapping and murder was the hottest topic around.

“What a guy.” A coworker rapped his knuckles against the sports daily he was reading. “Three hundred million yen, they’re saying. Even in this age, three hundred million is a lot of money. Just by making a few calls on a cellphone, he got his hands on that marvelously. This culprit has got a good head.”

“Nah, he was just lucky,” the guy who sat next to me said. “If the police had actually been on the case, it might not have gone so well. They’re saying if they’d been notified earlier, things would have played out differently.”

“Well, of course they’d say so. They’re not going to say, ‘With this method, the money would’ve been theirs, even if we were on scene.’ I bet they’re kind of glad they weren’t notified in advance. Imagine if they’d been notified and were totally staking places out and the ransom had been taken from under their noses. How’d they look? On that point, thanks to finding out only after it was over, no matter what clever methods the culprit used, the police aren’t embarrassed or anything. Besides, the hostage is dead, so they can investigate without worrying about that.”

“Hey, hey, you’re being too loud.”

The two were facing each other with grins.

I picked up the receiver. Looking at a number recorded on my cellphone, I placed a call. It connected to a direct work extension. “This is the local news section,” a familiar voice said.

“Hello, this is Sakuma.”

“Ah, Mr. Sakuma. It’s me, Yuguchi. Thank you for taking the bill the other day.”

“About that case — have you found out anything since then?”