Newcomer

1

“Three cherry and fig tarts — that comes to one thousand, seven hundred and twenty-five yen,” said Miyuki, handing the box to the woman at the counter.

The woman, who appeared to be in her early thirties, placed two thousand-yen notes on the money tray. Miyuki picked them up and put them in the cash register, then handed the woman the change along with the receipt. “Thank you very much.”

After the woman had left the store, Miyuki checked the time on her cell phone. Just fifteen minutes until seven o’clock. Seven was when the Quattro pastry shop closed.

Miyuki was bending down to rearrange the few unsold cakes still in the display case when the front door of the store opened. “Good evening,” Miyuki said, as she stood back up, before her lips creased into a spontaneous smile. This customer was a regular.

The woman who had just come in smiled back at her. She had her usual sweet expression and her eyes brimmed with tenderness as they contemplated Miyuki. In the course of one of their chats, she had told Miyuki that she was past forty, but her figure and her glowing complexion were those of a much younger woman.

“Hello. Are you still open?” the woman asked.

“Very much so.”

“One of my neighbors gave me some snack cakes today, so there’s no excuse for me being here. I happened to be passing by and — surprise, surprise! — I simply couldn’t resist.” The woman examined the contents of the display case. Perhaps it was because she wore her hair short, but her movements all seemed light and graceful. “I’ve got nothing against traditional Japanese sweets, but when I’ve completed a big job, I like to celebrate with a nice piece of cake. It’s what motivates me.”

“What is your job?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I wonder...”

Miyuki cocked her head thoughtfully to one side. The woman winked at her mischievously. “It’s something I can do at home, almost like a side job.”

Miyuki could only um and ah in response.

“Seems I’m out of luck. I was after one of your jellies. You’ve got some lovely passion fruit and almond jellies, haven’t you?” said the woman, looking into the case.

“I’m sorry. We’re all sold out.”

“It’s been so hot. Everyone wants to have something nice and cool to eat. What shall I go for instead?”

Just then, the ring tone of a cell phone came from inside her handbag. With a slight frown, she pulled out the phone and consulted the screen. She looked a little puzzled as she answered the call.

“Hello, yes?... Oh, it’s you. But why are you using a pay phone?... Oh, poor you. Okay, just hang on a second.” Clutching the phone in one hand, the woman looked at Miyuki and held up the other in a gesture of apology. “Sorry. Afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Lovely.”

With a final “sorry about that,” the woman exited the shop. Through the plate glass window, Miyuki could see her talking on the phone as she walked off.

Miyuki sighed just as Reiko Nakanishi, the manager, came over from the café area at the back.

“It’s been a busy day, Miyuki. I’ll handle the rest of the cleaning up.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ll do it.”

“We don’t want you overdoing things. I bet you’re tired.”

“Not at all, actually. I’m feeling stronger recently.”

“That’s good to hear.” Reiko Nakanishi smiled a tight smile, then went back to looking serious. “The lady just now left without buying anything?”

“The thing she wanted was sold out.”

“I see. She was a bit late today. She usually shows up around six. Listen, Miyuki, you just clean up this display case, then you can go home.”

“All right.”

Squatting down behind the case, Miyuki couldn’t help smiling when she noticed a handful of unsold cream puffs. Kenichi didn’t usually like sweet things, but cream puffs were the exception. The staff at Quattro were allowed to take home any leftover pastries, although giving them to anyone other than immediate family was strictly forbidden. After all, people who got sweets for free were unlikely to become paying customers.

The woman who’d just dropped in was also a cream puff fan. She normally came by at around six, as Reiko Nakanishi had said, picked out something she liked from the display, then settled down to enjoy it with a cup of tea in the café area. When there was a lull, Miyuki would sometimes look in her direction. Their eyes always seemed to meet, and the woman would give her a nice smile — a warm, kind, big-hearted smile.

Miyuki knew next to nothing about the woman. She’d come into the store for the first time about two months ago and now dropped in every couple of days or so. The staff had her pegged as a serious fan of Quattro’s pastries.

I wonder what her job is, Miyuki thought. Next time she comes, I’ll just ask her.

2

He was sweating, and the sweat dribbled into his eyes when he leaned down to tighten the bolt. His T-shirt was soaked through. Wiping his face with the towel that was draped around his neck, Koki Kiyose reapplied himself to his task. The sooner they finished preparing the set, the sooner they could start rehearsing seriously. Around him, the other members of the company were busy finishing off the stage sets and adjusting the costumes. It was a small company, so the actors had to do everything themselves.

Koki was feeling around for another bolt when the cell phone in his back pocket started to ring. With an irritated sigh, he pulled it out. When he saw the name of the caller, his face wrinkled in distaste. He thought about not picking up; the call was from someone he really didn’t want to talk to.

The other person probably didn’t want to talk to him either, so if they’d gone to the trouble of calling, there must be a very good reason. Koki reluctantly answered.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said in a hostile tone.

“It’s me.” Naohiro’s voice was the same as ever.

“I know. What do you want? I’m kinda busy here.”

“Just thought I’d let you know. The police will probably be contacting you.”

“The police? Why? I haven’t done anything.”

“It’s not you. It’s Mineko.”

The name took a fraction of a second to register. He hadn’t heard anyone say it for a while.

“What? Has something happened to Mom?”

Naohiro didn’t respond.

“Dad?” Koki insisted.

“They tell me she’s dead.”

“What!”

“Some detectives came around to see me this morning. Mineko was found dead last night, they said.”

Koki took a deep breath. He couldn’t get a word out. Mineko’s face flashed before his mind’s eye. In his memory, at least, she was still smiling, young, full of life.

“Are you listening?” Naohiro asked.

“What do you mean?” said Koki. “Mom? I mean, what...? Was there some sort of accident?”

“The police think she was murdered.”

Koki’s heart missed a beat. Then the blood surged through his veins, and he grew hot all over.

“Who did it?” he asked.

“They don’t know. The investigation’s just getting started. That’s why the detectives came to see me.”

“Where did it happen? Where was she?”

“In her apartment.”

“Her apartment? Where?”

“The Nihonbashi district.”

“Nihonbashi!”

“Kodenmacho, to be specific. The detectives said she was renting a studio apartment there.”

That was pretty close to where Koki lived. His place was in Asakusabashi, and Kodenmacho was about half a mile away.

Why was she living there, of all places? The idea that his own mother had been murdered was too shocking; he couldn’t yet accept it as real.

“Do you know anything?”

“Anything about what?”

“About why something like this should happen to your mom?”

“How could I? We weren’t in touch.”

At the other end of the phone, Naohiro sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. The police will probably want to talk to you, so I thought I’d let you know. They asked for your contact details.”

“Got it.”

“That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, what?”

“What about the funeral?”

Naohiro lapsed briefly into silence, then said, “That’s not my responsibility.”

“I guess not.”

“I plan to keep my distance. If they contact me, I’ll do what I can.”

Naohiro presumably meant he would be willing to help with the funeral expenses if Mineko’s family asked him to do so. That’s the least you can damn well do, Koki thought.

After the call ended, Koki just stood there, dazed and rooted to the spot. His head was a welter of confused thoughts. He had no idea what to do with himself.

“Hey, Koki, what’s wrong?”

He finally snapped back to reality when someone spoke to him. It was Shinozuka, the head of the theater company.

“My mom. She was... murdered.”

Shinozuka reeled back in stunned horror. “What did you say?”

“My mom... she was murdered... in her apartment,” said Koki, before going into a crouch and burying his face in his knees.

About an hour later the police got in touch. Koki was working with intense concentration. His colleagues had all urged him to go home, but he’d insisted on staying. He didn’t want their preparations to fall behind schedule because of his personal problems. Besides, there was nothing useful he could do, even if he did go home early. Staying busy at least kept him from having to think.

The call was from a Detective Uesugi of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Uesugi wanted a face-to-face meeting as soon as possible and proposed meeting at a diner near the theater.

When he got there, Koki found two men in suits waiting for him. Both were detectives from the Homicide Division of the Metropolitan Police. Uesugi was the older of the two.

After expressing his condolences, Uesugi asked Koki when he’d last seen his mother.

“Around the end of the year before last,” answered Koki.

“The year before last!” Uesugi’s eyes widened. “You hadn’t seen each other for that long?”

“Didn’t my dad tell you?”

“He said you’d dropped out of college and left home.”

“Yeah, that was at the end of the year before last. I haven’t seen my mom since.”

“And you didn’t bother to phone?” Uesugi looked at Koki with disdain.

Koki fixed him with a fierce stare. Who the hell did this geezer think he was?

“I just upped and left home. Go figure.”

“What about your mother? Didn’t she try to call you?”

“I got myself a new phone with a new number after I moved out. I didn’t give the new number to my mom or dad.”

“But your father knew the number.”

“He hired someone to track me down. They must’ve worked their way through every single small theater company in Tokyo before they found me. About six months ago, this guy turns up out of the blue and is like, ‘Contact your dad. He’s got some important news.’ So I called him.”

“What was the important news?”

Koki sighed and looked the detective in the eye.

“That my parents were getting divorced. I was a bit surprised, but, hey, plenty of people get divorced, even after they’ve been married for years. I was like, ‘If that’s what you want, go for it. I’ve no right to kick up a fuss about it.’ Guess they didn’t want to finalize the divorce without keeping their son in the loop.”

“Did he tell you why they were getting divorced?”

Koki cocked his head.

“No one told me jack. My father was never very into his own family, and my mom was going stir-crazy, stuck at home with nothing to do. Seemed like good news for both of them.”

“Interesting. So your mom didn’t like being stuck at home... right?”

Koki glared at the detective, who was nodding solemnly.

“Why are you even asking me this stuff? Does her divorcing my dad have something to do with the case?”

Alarmed, the detective said, “I have no idea. Right now, we know nothing about anything. Now, as regards where your mother was living...”

“I only heard about that today, from my dad. I can’t believe how close by she lived.”

“That’s what we were wondering. Was it a coincidence, or something more than that? Mineko Mitsui moved to an apartment in this area a couple of months ago. Isn’t it possible that she elected to live here after finding out where you lived?”

“That seems out of the question. There’s no way Dad would have told her where I live. It had to be a coincidence, pure and simple.”

“You think so?” Uesugi looked unconvinced.

The detective went on to ask Koki some questions about his mother’s friends and her interests. Koki answered as best he could. He found it hard to believe that he was contributing much to the investigation; indeed, the detectives looked rather bored by his responses.

Koki tried to get some information about the circumstances of the crime from the detectives, but they told him very little. It was early days, and they knew almost nothing, they insisted. From their manner, though, Koki was convinced it wasn’t a simple robbery that turned into murder.

“I have a final question.” Uesugi raised a finger. “Can you tell us where you were last night between six and eight p.m.?”

Koki could feel the scowl forming on his face.

“You asking me for an alibi?”

“It’s just routine. We have to ask everyone connected to the case. If you’d rather not answer, you’re free not to.”

Koki bit his lip, then said:

“I was in the performance space. You can ask any of the other actors.”

“That’s fine, then,” replied the detective carelessly.

Koki got home a little after eight. Normally, he’d have stayed and worked on the set, but tonight he had no choice: Shinozuka had all but ordered him to leave.

There was a light in the apartment window. Ami must be back already. When he pushed the front door open, his girlfriend turned toward him, her face bright and cheerful. “Koki? You’re early.” She was watching TV.

Her face crumpled when Koki told her about his mother.

“God, come to think of it, my boss said something about it at work today.” Ami frowned.

“Said something about what?”

“That there’d been a ton of police cars. Our shop’s quite close to Kodenmacho. I just can’t believe it, though. I mean, why on earth...?” Ami blinked back her tears.

“I dunno. The detectives just told me she’d been killed. That and nothing else.”

“What are you going to do? You’ll have to go to the funeral.”

Koki had no idea what his mother’s life had been like since the divorce. In fact, he hadn’t wanted to know. He had left home and was living his life the way he wanted, and she had every right to do the same. Not only that, he was just too darn busy to think about anyone else.

He lay down on his futon, but sleep wouldn’t come. Ami, who was tossing and turning next to him, seemed to have the same problem. As Koki’s eyes became accustomed to the dark, he could make out the vague outlines of the stains on the ceiling above his head.

Koki had met Ami Aoyama at a musical. She was in the seat next to him, and they got talking. Originally from Fukushima, she was a year older than he and had moved to Tokyo to study design. She was studying at technical school while working part-time.

The apartment they shared was originally Ami’s. Koki had moved in with her.

Koki discovered acting during his first year at college. Wandering into a little local theater, he had caught a performance by Shinozuka’s company. He’d made up his mind about his future on the spot. He stopped going to class and joined the company instead.

After some soul-searching, Koki made up his mind to drop out of college. Naohiro, his father, was violently opposed to this. That was no surprise. But Mineko, his mother, didn’t support him, either.

“If you really want to drop out, then go ahead and do it. Just don’t expect any help from me. You’re on your own now,” were his father’s parting words.

“That’s exactly how I want it,” spat back Koki. He got up from the dinner table, went up to his room, and started to pack.

Mineko followed him as he was leaving the house. “Let me know when you’ve found a place of your own,” she whispered.

He shook his head.

“I won’t be calling you. And I’m going to get a new phone.”

“But—”

“Mineko!” A shout from the dining room. “Just forget about that loser.”

The expression on her face was a mixture of sadness and perplexity. Averting his eyes, Koki stalked out of the house.

Now his mother had been murdered. She was no longer among the living. Although Koki knew it was true, he still couldn’t bring himself to believe it. It still felt like something from a soap opera.

3

The next morning Koki left the apartment with Ami when she went to work. Her job was in a café in Horidomecho, the neighborhood next to Kodenmacho.

Koki mounted Ami’s bicycle and got her to perch behind him. They’d often ridden the same bicycle back when he was working in the basement of Tokyo Station at a place that sold ready-made lunches. With the first night of the play getting closer, he was taking a temporary break from the job.

They got to the main Kodenmacho intersection in under ten minutes. Koki dismounted, and Ami took the handlebars.

“I’ve got school tonight,” she said before pedaling off. That meant she would be back late.

“Got it,” replied Koki, with a nod.

When Ami was out of sight, Koki took a look around. Spotting a convenience store, he headed for it.

There were no other customers. The clerk, a young man with dyed brown hair, was restocking the shelves with sandwiches and rice balls.

“Sorry to bother you,” said Koki. “You know the murder that happened near here the night before last? Do you know where it took place?”

The shop clerk shook his head impatiently.

“Sorry, I don’t have that shift.”

“Oh... right. Well, thanks anyway.”

Koki nodded at the clerk and left. Koki tried his luck at several other nearby stores, but nobody seemed to know anything about the recent murder. Their attitudes changed the instant they realized he wasn’t going to buy anything; as far as they were concerned, he was just wasting their time.

After drawing a series of blanks, he finally hit pay dirt in a stationery shop.

“The woman who was killed, you mean? It happened in that block of apartments right there.” The proprietor, a bald man, pointed a little way down the street. “A policeman came over to ask us if we’d seen anything suspicious. It must have happened about nine p.m. the night before. I told him that we’d closed several hours earlier, so could hardly have seen anything.”

“Do you happen to know the apartment number?”

“I’m not that well informed, no. Why are you so interested?”

“I... sort of knew the victim...”

“Gosh. I’m very sorry to hear that.” The storeowner looked grave.

Quickly saying his goodbyes, Koki left the shop and walked over to the apartment building. It was a long, narrow, cream-colored building and appeared quite new.

Why was his mother living here, of all places? Her parents’ house was in Yokohama. He’d assumed that she’d moved back in with them after the divorce. He had never imagined that she was living alone somewhere.

Still, given Mineko’s character, it made sense. She’d always wanted to escape the drudgery of housekeeping and engage with the “real world.”

She’d majored in English literature in college and had dreams of becoming a translator. Koki knew that she’d even planned to study in the UK after graduation.

Getting pregnant put paid to all that. Naturally, she knew who the father was: Naohiro Kiyose. Naohiro was a successful entrepreneur who’d launched his own business in his early thirties.

When she told Naohiro, he decided to marry her. Mineko accepted his proposal, and her family had no objections. Weddings based on accidental pregnancy were common enough back then.

Koki, though, had his own reasons for thinking that Mineko was less than happy with the marriage.

One day, when he was still in junior high school, he happened to overhear his mother talking to one of her old college friends on the phone.

“I want to try my luck in the real world. You understand, don’t you? I’m still only thirty-seven. The thought of continuing to live as I do now is too depressing. God, I’m jealous of you and your job. Things wouldn’t be like this if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. Naohiro and I — we probably wouldn’t have gotten married. Getting pregnant was my biggest mistake. It was already too late for an abortion when I found out. Besides, I wanted the experience of raising a child. That’s not enough, though. I wasn’t put on this earth just to be a mother. I spend every waking minute taking care of my son and my husband — but what about me and my life?”

Getting pregnant was my biggest mistake. The words were like a dagger in Koki’s heart.

Koki had sensed that his father wasn’t particularly interested in his family, but he’d never questioned his mother’s love — until that moment. She cooked him his meals, looked after his every need, and if she lost her temper with him from time to time, that was only because she wanted the best for him.

Or so he thought. It turned out that she was just playing the part of a mother while resenting him all along. And it wasn’t like it started yesterday: those negative feelings went back to the moment of his conception.

From that day on, Koki did all he could to avoid any sort of obligation to his mother. He hated the idea that she saw him as the reason her life had come to nothing.

Now, Koki saw things very differently. He no longer believed that Mineko didn’t love him, her only son. The comment she’d made on the phone was the sort of thing anyone might say when they were feeling fed up. Still, she’d been sincere about her desire to start over. That explained why she’d moved to her own place in central Tokyo instead of returning to her parents’ house after the divorce.

But why here specifically? Koki contemplated the building. He knew very little about his mother’s life, but he couldn’t imagine why she’d choose Nihonbashi.

He was still standing in the street when three men came out of the building. Koki was startled to see that Naohiro was one of them.

Naohiro stopped in his tracks.

“What the hell! What do you think you’re doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here, Dad?”

“I’m helping the police. We’ve just been in Mineko’s apartment.”

“Are you the son of the victim?” a man in a suit asked him. “Who gave you the address?”

“I asked around. A couple of detectives came to see me yesterday, but they wouldn’t tell me.”

“Okay.” The man nodded and glanced at Naohiro. “Should we let your son have a look at the apartment?”

“There’s no need. He hasn’t spoken to his mother in two years.”

“Okay then, scratch that. Could you come down to the station with us, Mr. Kiyose?”

“Sure.”

Ignoring Koki, the detectives stalked off. It was obvious that they had no interest in anyone they couldn’t pump for information. Naohiro, who was about to follow them, spun around.

“If you hang around here, you’ll only get in the way and screw up the investigation. Run along and go back to your actor chums.”

Koki glared at his father. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Naohiro went after the detectives without condescending to reply. Koki snorted derisively.

At that moment, he heard a voice behind him. “Excuse me a minute.” He turned. A man in a blue shirt worn over a black T-shirt emerged from the apartment building. His face was dark and lined.

“I was standing in the lobby there and couldn’t help overhearing. Are you Ms. Mitsui’s son?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

The man pulled a police ID out of his back pocket and introduced himself as Detective Kaga of Nihonbashi Precinct.

“I guess you wanted to see where it happened?”

“That’s right. I live quite nearby.”

“Nearby? Sorry, where exactly?”

“Asakusabashi.”

“That’s certainly close. Did you walk?”

“No. My girlfriend works near here. We came over together on her bike.”

“I see.” Kaga pondered a moment, then looked into Koki’s face. “Do you want to see the crime scene?”

Koki blinked in surprise. “Is that allowed?”

“As I’m the person in charge of preserving the crime scene, yes it is,” said Kaga, whipping a key out of his pocket.

Mineko’s apartment was on the fourth floor. About two hundred square feet, it was furnished with a single bed, a computer desk, a bookshelf, a table, and an armchair. It was spotlessly clean, yet it felt cramped. Koki was impressed that his mother managed to exist in such a tiny studio after years of living in a large house.

“How did it happen?” asked Koki, standing on the low concrete step in the entranceway.

“A friend of your mother’s found her. They were supposed to have dinner together. The friend rang the doorbell, and when no one answered, she opened the door and discovered Mineko facedown on the floor. Initially, she thought it was a fit or a stroke, but when she noticed the marks on her throat, she called the police.” Kaga rattled off the details without consulting his notes. Koki was taken aback: why was Kaga being so open with him? It was the complete opposite of the detectives of the day before.

“Who was the friend?” Koki mumbled.

“They’d been friends in college. She was working as a translator, and Mineko had been helping her out since the divorce.”

“That’s interesting...”

So Mom was doing what she’d always dreamed of doing. The realization that her divorce hadn’t left her lonely and embittered gave Koki some comfort.

This, then, was the place where she’d taken the first steps in her journey as a translator. As Koki scanned the apartment, something caught his eye. There was a magazine rack in one corner of the room; one of the magazines in it had no business being in his mother’s place. It was about baby care.

“Something wrong?” Kaga inquired.

“I don’t know. It’s that baby magazine over there. I was wondering what it’s doing here.” Koki pointed to the magazine rack.

Slipping on a pair of latex gloves, Kaga went over and picked up the magazine.

“You’ve got a point.”

“No way my mom was pregnant, right?”

“If she was, I’ve yet to hear about it,” answered Kaga gravely, as he replaced the magazine in the rack. “Did you know that your mother moved here about two months ago? Before that she was renting an apartment from a friend of hers over in Kamata, about ten miles from here.”

“Really?”

“The friend who found the body told us that your mother’s decision to move here was very sudden. When the friend asked why Kodenmacho specifically, your mother said something about ‘inspiration.’”

“Inspiration...?”

“Any idea what she might have meant? Why do you think your mother chose this neighborhood?”

Koki cocked his head to one side and sighed pensively. “I’m as surprised as anyone else. I never imagined that she was living so close by.”

“You live in Asakusabashi. Do you think it had anything to do with that?”

“The detective I spoke to yesterday asked me the same thing. I can’t imagine there’s any connection, though.” Koki’s rejection of the idea was emphatic. “She had no way of knowing that I was living in Asakusabashi. It had to be pure coincidence.”

“Is that so?”

“Do you think that there’s any link between my mother moving here and her murder?”

“It’s too early to say. The fact that none of the victim’s friends or family has any idea why she chose this area does bother me.”

“Did you go see her parents in Yokohama?”

“Someone else went. They didn’t get any helpful answers out of them.”

Koki could only cock his head in silence.

“Seen enough?” Kaga inquired.

“Yes.”

Koki stepped back out into the hallway. Kaga followed him out, locking the door behind him.

“Could I ask you something, Detective?”

Kaga turned his lined face to Koki. “Sure, what?”

“My mother is the last person in the world to have any enemies. I suppose that’s something the victim’s family always says, but in my mom’s case, it really is true.”

Kaga smiled, but there was a piercing gleam in his eyes that made Koki flinch.

“Except, of course, that you have no idea what your mother’s been up to for the last two years. Or am I wrong?”

“Yes, that’s true, but...”

Kaga’s expression softened as Koki’s voice trailed off.

“What you said just now will help with the investigation. Sadly, even people without enemies sometimes get murdered. We’ll catch the killer. I promise you that.”

Koki wasn’t sure why Kaga was so confident, but he took comfort from his words nonetheless. Koki bowed his head, as though to say, Please do that, Detective. I’m counting on you.

4

Five days had passed since the murder. Koki had no idea what sort of headway the police were making. He hadn’t been contacted either by the police or by his father.

The only person who did get in touch was his mother’s elder brother. This uncle called him to tell him that since the police had released the body, the family could finally hold the funeral. When it came to the investigation, however, his uncle was also in the dark.

“None of us knew what Mineko was doing with her life. She was always talking about wanting to make a fresh start, so we all thought it would be better if we stayed out of her hair.”

His uncle’s tone gave Koki the impression that he was trying to justify failing to stand by his divorced, lonely sister.

That same day, Detective Kaga dropped in to the theater company’s performance space. They’d just finished a run-through of several scenes and were taking a break.

Koki and Kaga went out into the lobby and sat down on an old bench.

“You actors are extraordinary: look at you, buckling down to rehearsals, despite what happened to your mother.”

“What else can I do? I’m going to my grandparents’ place in Yokohama to help with the wake and the funeral tomorrow.” Koki looked hard at the detective. “How is the investigation going? Have you found anything yet?”

“A certain amount. We now have a pretty good idea of what your mother did on the day she died,” said Kaga calmly. “One odd thing. Just before she was killed, your mother was writing an email that she never finished.”

Kaga flipped open his notebook.

“Here’s what it said: ‘I just got back. I went to the same old plaza as always. I stroked the puppy on the head and bumped into the clock shop man from Kobunacho. We had a good laugh about the way we always seem to go for our walks at the same time.’”

“What’s it mean?”

“I made a few inquiries and discovered something interesting: the puppy your mother says she stroked was a statue, not a real dog.”

“A statue?”

“Do you know Suitengu Shrine? It’s dedicated to conception and safe childbirth.”

“I’ve certainly heard of it.”

“There’s a statue of a mother dog and her puppy there. People believe that stroking the puppy’s head brings you good luck. This email suggests that Mineko Mitsui was a regular visitor to the shrine.”

“What would my mom be doing there...?”

“Remember that baby care magazine you spotted in her apartment? I think we’re justified in assuming that someone your mother knew is pregnant and that the two of them were probably very close. She wouldn’t have visited the shrine daily otherwise. The only problem is, I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find a woman who fits the bill. I asked your father, and he had no idea, either.”

“Well, can’t help you with that,” Koki said. “As I said, I hadn’t seen — or spoken to — my mother for two years.”

Kaga nodded despondently.

“Wouldn’t the person the email was addressed to be the best person to ask?”

“I did that, of course. It was addressed to the lawyer your mother used for her divorce. While the lawyer was aware of your mother’s habit of going for a daily walk, she didn’t know that she was going to the Suitengu Shrine. For some reason, your mother was deliberately vague, saying things like the ‘same old plaza as always.’ So, no, the lawyer didn’t know anything about a pregnant friend of Ms. Mitsui’s.”

“It’s all a bit... weird.”

What had Mineko been doing with her life? What had she been thinking? Koki again reproached himself for the indifference he’d shown to his own mother.

“I’ll try and dig up more some information. Sorry to bother you.” Kaga stood up off the bench.

The next day, Koki went out to his grandparents’ to help with the wake. When he peered into the coffin, Mineko looked normal, despite everything. There was a white scarf wrapped around her neck to conceal the strangulation marks.

Koki felt ashamed of himself in front of his mother’s family. He had failed to reach out to his mother when she had embarked on her new, independent life.

None of Mineko’s relations gave Koki a hard time, though. Instead they offered words of comfort for his loss. However, they seemed rather less charitably disposed toward his father.

Koki mentioned to several people that Mineko had some sort of association with a woman who was pregnant. Nobody had the faintest idea what he was talking about.

Somebody had to stay with the body overnight at the funeral hall, and Koki volunteered. His most important job was to ensure that the incense didn’t go out. Since it was a series of concentric rings, it would probably burn all night without his having to do anything.

After everyone left, Koki was alone in the funeral hall. He sat down on a folding metal chair and gazed up at the photograph of his mother on the altar. Mineko was smiling and looking straight at him. The photo, apparently, was from a vacation she’d gone on with a friend.

Suddenly, Koki felt something welling up inside him. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes. It was strange. The sight of his mother’s body hadn’t brought home the reality of her death, but now, looking at her photograph, he realized she was gone forever.

His cell phone rang in his pocket. Before answering, he tried to get his breathing under control. It was Ami.

“Nice timing. I was just about to ring you.”

Koki explained that he would be spending the night at the funeral home.

“Okay. Try not to wear yourself out.”

“I’ll be fine. Everything okay your end?”

“Something odd happened. This detective guy showed up at work today. Said his name was Kaga.”

Koki tightened his grip on the phone.

“At Kurochaya?”

Kurochaya was the café where Ami worked part-time.

“Yes, and he asked me something weird.”

“What?”

“He asked me if your mother... if your mother ever came by.”

“My mom?” Koki repeated incredulously. “Why would my mom go to your café? She didn’t know where I live, and she certainly didn’t know that I was living with you.”

“He was pushy. He even showed me a photograph. Got the owner to have a look at it, too.”

“What did the owner say?”

“He said he’d never seen her before. The detective must have believed us, because he left — eventually. What was that all about?”

“Search me. I’ll ask him the next time I see him, if there is a next time. Anything else?”

“No, nothing.”

“Okay. I’ll be back tomorrow after the funeral.”

After hanging up, Koki became pensive. His eyes were drawn again to the photograph of his mother.

For some reason, Mineko’s smile seemed to be tinged with mystery now.

5

Thanks to the efficiency of Koki’s uncle, the funeral went smoothly. The number of people who came was roughly what they had expected, so the ceremony ran without a hitch.

The coffin was carried out. Koki, together with the rest of the family, moved from the funeral hall to the nearby crematorium. He found an unexpected person waiting for him there: Kaga. As a concession to social niceties, the detective was wearing a black tie.

“I’m sorry to intrude at a time like this, but there’s something I thought you should know as soon as possible,” Kaga said, with a bow.

The cremation was going to take some time. Koki wondered if Kaga had timed his visit to coincide with that stage. Whatever it was the detective wanted to tell him, it had to be pretty important.

The two of them went outside. Nearby was a well-tended park dotted with benches. They sat down on one of them.

“We’ve discovered why your mother moved to Kodenmacho,” Kaga began. “I’m pretty confident we’re right about this.”

“Why, then?”

“Do you know a Mrs. Machiko Fujiwara?”

“I think I’ve heard the name...”

“Mrs. Fujiwara was a college friend of your mother. She says she occasionally dropped by to see your mother while she was married and living with your father.”

“Oh, okay,” said Koki. “I know the lady you mean. Yeah, she came by from time to time. My mom called her ‘Machi.’”

“That’s her.” Kaga nodded. “We went through your mother’s computer and we contacted everyone in the address book, but had trouble locating Mrs. Fujiwara. The reason was that she’d moved to the US — Seattle, specifically, something to do with her husband’s job. We finally managed to get through to her by phone this morning. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t know about the murder, let alone have any idea who might be responsible. What she could tell is why Ms. Mitsui moved to Kodenmacho.”

“Why?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

“Mrs. Fujiwara moved from Tokyo to Seattle this past March. Not long before she left the country, she was strolling through Nihonbashi when, quite by chance, she saw someone she recognized: it was you.” Kaga directed a piercing look at Koki. “You were on a bicycle with a girl perched on the back. You stopped and dropped the girl off, then rode away. Since Mrs. Fujiwara wouldn’t be able to keep up with you, she decided to follow the girl instead. The girl went into a café that wasn’t yet open. Mrs. Fujiwara lost no time in passing this information along to Ms. Mitsui. She knew your mother was eager to find you. Since your mother moved to Kodenmacho very soon after that, I think it’s reasonable to assume that she moved there to look for you.”

Koki listened to Kaga with bemusement. Until now, it never crossed his mind that his mother might be trying to find him. Now, though, it seemed the most obvious thing in the world: after splitting up with her husband, he was the only family she had left.

“How come she never got in touch with me, then? She knew where Ami worked; all she had to do was to ask her.”

“I’m sure that was your mother’s original intention. I suspect she changed her mind after seeing your girlfriend in the flesh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even after moving to the US, Mrs. Fujiwara stayed in regular contact with your mother. That’s how she knew your mother moved to Kodenmacho. She assumed that you and your mother would soon be reunited; instead, she got an email from your mother saying she’d decided to hang back and keep an eye on things for a while. Sensing that things might have gotten complicated, Mrs. Fujiwara thought it better not to pry.”

Koki pushed his hand through his bangs. “Why?”

“According to Mrs. Fujiwara, although your mother dropped in to Ami Aoyama’s workplace often, she never revealed her identity to her. She was worried about creeping the girl out by going there so frequently.”

“So you decided to go to Kurochaya yourself. Ami told me on the phone last night. The whole thing’s so weird. I mean, Ami told you that she never saw my mother at Kurochaya?”

“Exactly. So how should we interpret your mother’s emails? Was your mother making it all up when she wrote to Mrs. Fujiwara?”

“Why would she lie about something like that?” Koki grimaced. The whole thing was too bewildering.

At the sight of Koki’s face, Kaga broke into a big grin.

“Don’t worry, she wasn’t lying to anybody. Ms. Mitsui made repeated visits to the place your girlfriend works. That’s an incontestable matter of fact.”

“But Ami was convinced that she never—”

“Perhaps I should phrase that more precisely,” Kaga continued. “She made repeated visits to the place where she thought your girlfriend was working.”

When Koki looked nonplussed, Kaga pulled out a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. He’d sketched a simple map. Koki recognized it as the area around the main Kodenmacho intersection.

“What’s that for?”

“After Mrs. Fujiwara saw the two of you on the bicycle, she emailed your mother to tell her where your girlfriend was working. She explained how to get there like this: ‘From the Kodenmacho intersection, head in the direction of Ningyocho until you get to an intersection with a Sankyo Bank on the left-hand corner. Turn left, and the café is right next door to the bank.’ What do you think of her directions?”

“I don’t know... No, I mean, it sounds good to me.” Koki called up a mental image of the neighborhood. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with those directions.

“There was nothing wrong with it... Not, at least, at that point in time.”

“What are you saying?”

“It was early March when Mrs. Fujiwara spotted the two of you in the street. Your mother went to Kodenmacho for the first time around two weeks later. Following her friend’s instructions, she walked from the main Kodenmacho intersection toward Ningyocho. At which point she made a serious mistake. The Sankyo Bank in Mrs. Fujiwara’s email is located three streets away. But two streets before that, there’s a bank with a very similar name: the Sankyo-Daito Bank. Sankyo Bank and Daito Bank merged; the merger took place immediately after Mrs. Fujiwara saw you. Do you see where this is going? When Mrs. Fujiwara was there, the bank at the first intersection was still named the Daito Bank. By the time your mother went, due to the merger, it had changed to the Sankyo-Daito Bank. So your mother turned left there — and who can blame her?”

“But why didn’t she realize she’d made a mistake? When there was no café next to the bank...” Noticing the grimace on Kaga’s face, Koki flinched. “Oh no. You’ve got to be joking?”

“I’m afraid not,” Kaga said. “There is a café next door to that bank, too. To be pedantic, it’s more of a pastry shop than a café, but it has a small café area at the back for tea and coffee. I completely understand why your mother thought she was at the right place.”

“And that was the place my mother was going to regularly?”

“I went to check. The pastry shop’s called Quattro. When I showed the girl who works there Ms. Mitsui’s photograph, she confirmed that she’d been there on multiple occasions. In other words, your mother mistakenly believed the girl at Quattro was your girlfriend.”

Koki shook his head.

“What was she thinking? She had more than two months. She only needed to talk to the girl to realize her mistake.”

“Remember, though, that she’d decided to ‘hang back and keep an eye on things.’ When she saw the girl, alarming her was probably the last thing she wanted to do. I imagine she planned to make herself known to her once things had settled down.”

“I wonder why she felt like that?”

“If you go to the pastry shop, you’ll see why. See the girl, I mean. Personally, I think that your mother enjoyed every minute of her new life in Kodenmacho. The pleasure of silently watching over someone, anticipating the future, probably meant a lot to her.”

What was Kaga talking about? Koki was utterly mystified. “Go there, and you’ll see what I mean,” said the detective.

6

It was about fifteen minutes before closing time when Kenichi came in. He was wearing a suit.

“The office of one of my biggest customers is near here, and I just got out of a meeting with them. I called my boss and got permission to head home, so I thought we could travel together?”

“That’s nice of you. Why don’t you have a coffee while you’re waiting?” Miyuki said.

Kenichi strolled over to the café area in the back of the store. Reiko Nakanishi took Kenichi’s order. Naturally, she’d met Kenichi before.

Kenichi always took good care of Miyuki, but lately he was even sweeter than usual, thought Reiko.

Miyuki placed a hand on her belly. She was in her sixth month of pregnancy and had a noticeable baby bump.

She glanced at her cell phone beside the cash register. It was accessorized with a strap decorated with a little plastic dog. That lady who came in almost every day, the one with the kind eyes, had given it to her.

“I bought it at Suitengu Shine. It’s so you can have a healthy, happy baby,” she’d said when she gave it to her.

Miyuki couldn’t figure out why the lady was always so nice to her — and now she’d never know. The lady was dead. The detective who’d come by the day before had told her so.

The detective had started by showing her a photograph and asking her if she recognized the woman in it. Miyuki was taken aback: she’d recognize that lovely smile anywhere, she said. At her response, for some reason the detective looked desperately sad. He then launched into a whole series of questions: What did she and the lady talk about when she came into the store? When was she last there?

Feeling increasingly uneasy, Miyuki decided to ask a question of her own. What was going on? Was the lady okay?

The detective seemed reluctant to answer. Miyuki’s worst fears were realized. The lady with the kind eyes was dead; worse still, she’d been murdered.

Although Miyuki never even knew the lady’s name, deep sadness billowed through her like a wave. Tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

Miyuki did her best to answer all of the detective’s questions properly. She couldn’t tell him anything useful, but she tried to dredge up all her memories nonetheless.

“I’ll probably be back,” said the detective as he left. The man had radiated sympathy and compassion. Miyuki couldn’t understand why he was so emotionally involved.

She noticed someone outside the shop. The glass door opened, and in walked a young couple. Probably in their early twenties, Miyuki reckoned.

“Good afternoon,” said Miyuki out of reflex.

There was something a bit stiff about the pair. The girl was looking down at the floor while the boy was staring straight at Miyuki. Odd, she thought.

Miyuki gave them a welcoming smile. That was when she got a shock: the young man’s eyes... She had never seen him before, but those eyes — she knew she’d seen them somewhere.

She looked down at the cash register where her phone with the dangling strap caught her eye. She raised her head and looked at the young man again.

He’s got the same eyes as that nice lady, she thought.