Newcomer

1

Koki Kiyose was sitting in an easy chair with a pipe between his teeth and a thick file open on his knees when there was a knock on the door.

“Is that you, Marsh?” asked Koki, forcing himself to sound calm. “Come on in.”

The door opened, and Ikuo Yamada came in, a gray wig on his head.

“I’ve completed the fifth volume of our memoirs, Wike.” Yamada allowed his rich bass voice to resonate as he held out a bound volume.

“It’s finally done, eh? So now we have it — The Full Record of the Murder at the Evil Prince’s Mansion. I remember it so well: the tension and the intellectual excitement. All I regret is that I never got to meet the criminal mastermind, who had the pride of a true artist, and—”

“Stop,” someone yelled. It was Shinozuka, the director of the theater company. Koki winced.

“What’s wrong with you, Koki? Your performance is so one-note. Your speech should project the character’s sense of self-worth, tinged with nostalgia for the old days and a soupçon of sadness as the cherry on the cake. I need you to give it more feeling.” The expression on Shinozuka’s face was stern.

“I’m sorry. Let me take another stab at it.”

“No, we’ll take a quick break. There’s something I need to deal with. Okay, everybody,” said Shinozuka to the rest of the staff. “Take ten.”

The tension that had filled the cramped performance space suddenly lifted. Koki could feel himself being drawn back to reality from the make-believe world of the play.

Despite Shinozuka’s having announced a ten-minute break, the rehearsal didn’t resume after the allotted time was up. The director and the lead were in his office having a talk. Maybe talk was not the right word; it was more like a unilateral declaration: since Koki was clearly unable to concentrate on his performance, Shinozuka wanted him to step down.

Koki bowed his head apologetically. He knew the director was right.

“I’m sorry. I promise to do better. I’ll improve my focus.”

“Stop bowing. I don’t want your apologies. I know why you’re having trouble concentrating. For God’s sake, your mother’s been murdered, and the killer’s still out there.”

Koki raised his head and looked Shinozuka in the eye.

“I’ll do it. I’ll find a way to get my concentration back.”

Shinozuka frowned.

“You’re missing the point, Koki. If we could will ourselves to concentrate, then no one would ever be unhappy. I know you’re doing your absolute best, and I have a great deal of respect for your talent. The state you’re in now, though, leaves acting out of the question. That’s my final decision as the director.”

Koki lowered his head again. This time he was not apologizing; he was drooping with disappointment.

“There’s nothing I can do to make you change your mind?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” said Shinozuka gently. “The company will need your talents again in the future — of that I’m sure. Right now, it’s impossible. When you’re over what’s happened and can focus on the performance without needing to force it, then I’d love for you to be in a play of mine. As the lead, of course.”

Koki clenched his jaw and looked at Shinozuka.

The director responded with an encouraging nod. “Come back when this business with your mother has been sorted out.”

“Fine,” Koki snapped back.

When Koki spotted the nameplate for Takamachi Consulting Law Office, he wondered how much this was going to cost him. His image of lawyers was one of fat cats rolling in money.

The office was on the third floor. A young female receptionist sat behind a pair of glass doors. Koki timidly pushed his way in and gave her his name.

“I’ve got an appointment with Ms. Takamachi at four o’clock. Nothing to do with anything legal. Just need to ask her a couple of questions...”

“Very good, sir. Please take a seat.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and announced Koki’s arrival. Then, replacing the receiver, she led him down a corridor and asked him to wait in a small meeting room.

The room was tiny, with only a table and a couple of folding metal chairs. Koki sat with his back toward the door. He felt slightly nervous.

He’d wondered what to do with himself after Shinozuka had made him step down. His mother’s murder was weighing heavily on him, but it wasn’t just that the case was unsolved. He’d done nothing for her before that, and now he was dogged by a sense of guilt.

Since leaving home, Koki had been so obsessed with acting that he’d barely given his parents a thought. He’d felt only indifference when they told him about their divorce. They were adults, free to do whatever they darn well wanted. If they’d decided to split up and go their own ways, then so be it. The fact that he was their son didn’t give him the right to interfere. Basically, he just didn’t care.

With Mineko, though, it was a different story. Newly divorced and forced to stand on her own two feet, she must have had to make serious decisions about her job and future. Nonetheless, she’d still been thinking about him, her only son.

She had a reason for moving to a neighborhood with which she had no connection — and it was an important one. It was close to the pastry shop where her son’s girlfriend was working. When she discovered that the girlfriend was pregnant, she wanted to be nearby to keep a friendly eye on her.

She hadn’t discussed the matter with anybody else; nor had she introduced herself to the girlfriend. She was probably worried that Koki would get annoyed, or maybe she was frightened that Naohiro would try to stick his oar in and influence things.

“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.”

Those were the slightly cryptic words Detective Kaga had used. At the time, Koki didn’t understand; now he understood so well that it almost caused him physical pain.

Kaga had given Koki the address of the pastry shop. The one his mother had mistaken for the café Ami worked at. He and Ami went there, and both broke down in tears at the sight of the pregnant clerk. Despite never having met Koki’s mother, Ami wailed. “I wish it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. I wish I really was her. Wouldn’t that have been lovely?”

Koki’s chest hurt whenever he thought of Mineko. Finally realizing how precious a mother’s love is, he now knew how foolish he was to have turned his back on it. He felt partly to blame for what had happened: if they had been in regular contact, maybe she wouldn’t have been murdered.

Shinozuka was definitely right: Koki couldn’t focus on acting now. Perhaps, though, there was something else he could do: find out about his mother.

The trouble was, he had no idea where to start. The police had cordoned off her Kodenmacho apartment, so, son or not, he had no hope of examining anything that might give him an insight into her new life.

Racking his brains, he remembered something Kaga said about his mother having hired a lawyer to negotiate her divorce and that the two women were still in contact. Maybe the lawyer would be able to tell him about her recent life.

The next question was how to locate the lawyer. Koki could think of only one way: it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he called up his father, Naohiro, and asked him for the lawyer’s contact details.

“Why the hell do you want to know?” snarled Naohiro. “What business have you got with some damn lawyer?”

“Nothing to do with you. Just tell me.”

“No way will I tell you. If you start dicking around and screw up the investigation, that’ll be a huge problem.”

“That’s not going to happen. I just want to find out more about Mom.”

“That’s exactly what I mean by dicking around. The cops will get to the bottom of your mother’s murder. Until then, sit tight and wait. You’re an amateur, so butt out.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not trying to solve the case. I just want to learn about Mom.”

“Learn what, exactly?”

“Any damn thing. It’s like I know nothing about her. And I bet you don’t know the first thing about her either, do you, Dad? Do you know what was on her mind just before she was killed? Do you have any idea why she was renting an apartment near me? No, of course you don’t.”

A moment of silence.

“You’re saying that you do?” Naohiro asked.

“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry about it. It’s got nothing to do with you, and it wouldn’t mean anything to you. You’d probably just say Mom’s an idiot. You’re fine not knowing anything, Dad, but me — me, I’m different. I want to know all about Mom. But I won’t make trouble for you, I promise you that.”

Koki delivered this rant without pausing for breath. Another silence followed. Finally, there was a heavy sigh, then Naohiro said, “Okay, just wait a minute.”

Naohiro gave him the name and contact details of the lawyer, Shizuko Takamachi.

“There’s probably not much point in telling you this now,” continued Naohiro, “but our divorce was a mutual thing. Mineko was the one who initiated it; she said that she wanted to ‘start a new life.’ I thought she was being selfish, but I went along with it. The lawyer negotiated things between us, sure, but there weren’t any ugly fights about dividing up our assets.”

“Then why bother telling me? The lawyer will tell me the same thing — if it’s true, of course.”

“Everyone sees things differently. The lawyer will probably say that she did a good job working out the settlement. The truth is, we never needed a lawyer. There was no dispute. I just wanted to let you know.”

“All that crap about ‘settlements’ and ‘dividing up assets’ means nothing to me. I couldn’t care less about stuff like that.”

Having got the lawyer’s contact information, Koki had no further use for his father, and he hung up.

A plump woman with a round, amiable face, Shizuko Takamachi looked around forty. Koki imagined that clients like his mom would find her very reassuring.

Getting to his feet, he introduced himself and thanked her for seeing him. With a nod, Shizuko Takamachi gestured for him to sit back down.

“Please accept my condolences. It must have been a dreadful shock.”

“Very much so,” replied Koki.

“I was shocked, too. As you may be aware, your mother came to see me a number of times recently. I never picked up the slightest hint that she was in danger. If anything, she seemed happy to have regained her independence.”

“You have no idea why she was murdered, then?”

“No. I can’t think of anything significant enough to have any bearing on the crime.”

“When did you and my mother first meet?”

“When your mother decided to file for divorce. A friend of hers introduced our practice to her, and she made an appointment with me.”

“But the two of you stayed in touch even after the divorce was finalized. Were you friends?”

The lawyer frowned. Despite her rather ordinary, roly-poly appearance, she obviously picked her words with care.

“Friends? You could safely characterize it in those terms, yes. Ms. Mitsui sent along news via email, and I replied, when I had the time. That was our relationship. Life can be challenging for a newly divorced woman, so I was there for her, if she needed someone to talk to. It was like a follow-up service: if we ended up discussing legal matters, I could hardly do it free of charge, of course.”

“Just now you said you couldn’t think of anything significant enough to have any bearing on her murder. Can you think of anything less significant but that might still be relevant?”

A faint smile appeared on Shizuko Takamachi’s lips.

“Your mother and I are both grown women. We didn’t email about trivialities.”

“What did you email about, then?”

“Things that I cannot reveal to you, even though you are her son. Lawyers have a duty of confidentiality toward their clients, and your late mother is still my client, as far as I am concerned.”

The lawyer’s voice was gentle, but Koki was intimidated by her crisp enunciation and the professional pride and strength of will it implied. Bet she’s good at playing mind games in court, he thought.

Rather unexpectedly, the lawyer smiled.

“As I said, your mother seemed happy to me. That came through in her emails. She was considering a range of options with regard to her future, but I doubt that there was any link to her murder.”

Koki again felt the heat of emotion in his chest. He knew that the optimistic tone the lawyer had detected in his mother’s emails came from her excitement about the birth of her first grandchild.

Still, as the lawyer had said, they were both grown women, with no interest in exchanging frivolous emails. What had Mineko been consulting her about?

Koki realized that he wasn’t going to get that information out of this lawyer. He wondered what to do.

At that moment, an image flashed into his mind’s eye. I’m sure he will know.

“Are you all right?” the lawyer asked

“I’m fine. Thank you for your time. I know you must be very busy,” said Koki as he rose to his feet.

2

The intercom on the table buzzed. Naohiro, who was reading through a document, reached out and grabbed the receiver.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Kishida is here,” said Yuri, in a husky voice. Naohiro loved her voice. The sound of it made him feel that all was right with the world.

“Show him in,” he said.

The door opened, revealing the scrawny figure of Yosaku Kishida. He was so thin that he resembled a suit dangling from a hanger.

“Did you run the numbers?” Naohiro asked, moving over to an armchair in the meeting area of the room.

“Yes. I’ll cut to the chase: they’re not good at all.”

Settling himself into the chair facing Naohiro, Kishida pulled a file out of his briefcase and plunked it on the table.

“What’s the problem? Is it the cost of wages?”

“That’s the one. Right now, we’ve got seventy-one part-time and temp employees. We need to get that number down to fifty if we want to see a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“You want me to fire twenty people? That’s crazy. The business will just grind to a halt.”

“Okay then, make it ten. Minimum.”

Naohiro was groaning when the door opened. “Excuse me,” said Yuri, making her way into his office. She was carrying a tray with two teacups on it. She placed one cup in front of Naohiro and the other in front of Kishida. She was tall, with long legs, arms, and fingers. Her skirt ended well above the knee. She wore a silver ring — obviously handmade — on one of her pinkies. It was a present from Naohiro, as was the necklace with a small diamond that hung around her neck.

Her job done, Yuri bowed crisply and exited the room. Naohiro and Kishida hadn’t said a word while she was there.

“Do I really have to fire ten people?” Naohiro muttered. “That’s not something I enjoy doing.”

“Recently, some companies have even been canceling job offers to new graduates before they start. That’s the world we live in. We really don’t have a choice. Ten temporary and part-time workers have got to go. While you’re at it, why not throw in one more and make it eleven? You hardly need a full-time tea maker on the staff.”

Removing the lid from his cup, Kishida took a sip of green tea.

“Here we go again.” Naohiro lips were twisted in a sneer.

“How many years ago did you found this company?”

“Twenty-six.”

“It was actually twenty-seven. When you set up this cleaning service company you were only thirty. I never expected you to get this big, and I thought I’d never earn more than pocket money from working with you. I’d only just started out as a licensed tax accountant myself, and I took you on because I hardly had any clients myself.”

“Yeah, you never tired of telling me that you didn’t think the business would succeed.”

Naohiro pulled his teacup toward him.

Kishida had been a year below Naohiro at university. When Naohiro established his own company, he’d gone to Kishida for help. Kishida had handled all the company’s finances since then. Those twenty-seven years had gone by in the blink of an eye.

“I respect your abilities as a businessman. I’ve always tried to keep my nose out of your business, but I’ve got to talk to you about that girl.”

“Must we go through this again?”

“Yes, just one more time. If it’s difficult for you to get rid of her because you hired her yourself, how about sending her to another department? Having her as your secretary is grossly indiscreet.”

“What’s indiscreet about it?”

Kishida sipped his tea.

“A detective came to see me at my office yesterday. He asked me a bunch of questions, but your secretary was the thing he was most interested in. What’s the nature of her relationship with Mr. Kiyose? When did they meet? I couldn’t very well tell him that; it made me nervous.”

“Nothing to get nervous about. Just tell the guy what you know.”

“What? Should I have said that she used to be a hostess at one of your favorite nightclubs?”

“What’s the problem?”

“I couldn’t do that. I just kept repeating that I didn’t know anything about her. What else could I do?”

“Sounds like no big deal to me,” snorted Naohiro.

“I don’t mean to criticize, but you should know better than to bring your girlfriends into the workplace. You’re a single man now, for goodness’ sake. If you like her, go ahead and marry her. No one will complain about that.”

Naohiro looked at Kishida’s bony face.

“You’re advising me to remarry immediately after the murder of my ex-wife? How d’you think that will look?”

“Okay, forget about getting married. How about living with her?”

“That would look worse. Look, just stop sticking your nose into my private life. I never asked you to manage that for me.”

“I’m not trying to manage your life, I’m warning you—”

Naohiro picked up the file that was lying on the table. “I’ll take a good look at these numbers of yours, and I’ll be in touch when I’ve decided what to do.”

Kishida sighed. He shook his head as he got to his feet.

“Your employees don’t like this sort of thing, either. Of course they look askance when you suddenly bring in a young woman like that.”

“They can gripe all they damn want. I couldn’t care less. Everyone enjoys taking potshots at the boss.”

“I’m worried that we’re running out of time.”

A moment or two after Kishida had left, there was a knock, and the door opened. Yuri came in, looking sheepish.

“Were you eavesdropping?” asked Naohiro.

“I couldn’t help overhearing. I seem to be causing a lot of trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my company, after all.”

“Yes, but... I was waylaid by a detective on my way home yesterday. A guy named Kaga.”

Naohiro frowned.

“I know who you mean. He’s from the local precinct. I met him when the cops took me around to Mineko’s apartment. What business did he have with you?”

“I don’t really know. He asked me a ton of questions that had nothing to do with the murder.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, ‘You’re very tall, do you do any sports?’ and ‘What sort of accessories do you like?’”

“Accessories?”

“He noticed my ring. Said it was unusual.” Yuri held out her left hand. “He got me to show it to him.”

“Did you?”

“I couldn’t think of any good reason not to.”

“Can’t be helped,” sighed Naohiro.

“What should I do?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Naohiro replied. “There’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing that detective can do to us.”

3

They’d arranged to meet in an old-fashioned Japanese-style coffee shop with brick walls and wood-framed windows. Above the red awning there was a sign reading “Founded in 1919” in bold lettering. The interior was simple, with square wooden tables and small stools.

The place was only about one-third full. There were a few businesspeople, but the majority of the customers appeared to be elderly locals who were chatting away merrily. Koki had heard that neighborhood coffee shops were struggling, but this place seemed to be doing well.

“Did you notice how this place writes its name, Kissako, on the sign out front?” asked Kaga, nursing his coffee. “With the ideograms for enjoy, tea, and go?” As usual, the detective was casually dressed, with a white shirt on top of a T-shirt.

“I wondered about that. What does it mean?”

Kaga looked pleased to be asked.

“It’s a phrase from Zen Buddhism. It means, ‘Have a cup of tea.’”

“Really?”

“Originally, though, it had a slightly different nuance. It meant something like, ‘Get a move on and go — drink your tea.’ At some point, though, the meaning got reversed; it went from being a slightly hostile remark to something you said to welcome people and make them feel at home.”

“Wow, you really know this neighborhood inside out.”

Kaga smiled ironically.

“I only just got posted here, so I’m a newcomer. One of the regulars here told me all of this. This area’s fascinating; wander down any random street, and you’re sure to find something curious. Like, it’s funny how the best-known dish at the yakitori grilled chicken restaurants around here is rolled omelet. Your mother used to go to Suitengu Shrine almost every day. I bet she enjoyed the walk.”

Having started off talking about unrelated things, Kaga had nimbly segued to Koki’s mother’s murder, the topic they were there to discuss. Koki was impressed: clearly detectives had their own techniques for steering conversations.

“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” said Kaga.

Koki swallowed a mouthful of iced coffee, then explained that he was keen to find out what the emails between Mineko and her lawyer were about. He was frank about Shizuko Takamachi having said little to him.

Kaga looked into his cup and listened in silence. When Koki finished, he raised his head and blinked a few times.

“That’s not very flattering. Do I look like someone who’s happy to spill the beans on an ongoing investigation? That wouldn’t make me much of a cop.”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m anxious to find out more about my mother’s recent life, and approaching you was the only way I could think of... We’d already met, so I thought that might count for something... I apologize.” Koki clenched his fists on his thighs. His palms were damp with sweat.

Kaga put his coffee cup down. He was smiling benignly.

“Hey, I was just pulling your leg. No need to get wound up. I won’t shoot my mouth off, but sharing confidential information can sometimes help drive an investigation forward.”

Koki looked at the detective in surprise.

Kaga leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table.

“Before I tell you what you want to know, there’s something I want to ask you. Why do you think your parents got divorced? Go on, speak frankly.”

Koki was slightly taken aback.

“The reason for their divorce? The other detective asked me about that. My guess is that it was incompatibility, if that’s the right word.”

“What’s your personal take? Did you think it was unavoidable?”

“When I got the news, I wasn’t that put out. According to my dad, my mom was being selfish and demanding. On the other hand, my dad never cared much about either of us, so for my mom to fall out of love with him seemed natural.”

“Okay.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Kaga ignored the question. “Do you know what your mother’s divorce settlement was?” he asked.

Koki leaned back a little in his chair.

“No idea.”

“Oh, really?” Kaga looked thoughtful.

“Could I—?”

“Your mother,” Kaga plowed on, “seems to have decided recently to ask your father for an additional lump sum payment. She’d already gotten the original settlement, but she no longer felt that was good enough, apparently. Two possible reasons occur to me. The first is that she was worrying about the viability of her translation work, because the friend who was intending to send work her way unexpectedly decided to move abroad. The second reason you can probably guess for yourself: Ms. Mitsui believed she was about to have a grandchild. What would be more natural than for her to want to help the young couple?”

A lightbulb seemed to go on in Koki’s brain.

“Oh, I get it. My mom was discussing money matters with her lawyer.”

Kaga reached for his cup.

“That is something I can neither confirm nor deny. Ms. Mitsui apparently wanted to reopen negotiations with the other party, Naohiro Kiyose, on the way the money had been split.”

“That’s pretty irresponsible of her.” Koki scowled. “Even if my dad was in the wrong, she was the one who asked for the divorce, and they’d already reached an agreement—”

“Take it easy,” said Kaga soothingly. “As I told you, there’d been some unexpected developments in Ms. Mitsui’s life. She wasn’t just reopening the negotiations on a whim. She also believed she had plausible grounds for what she was doing.”

“Plausible grounds?”

“She’d uncovered a new reason why she couldn’t have remained married. She believed that if she could pin responsibility on the other party, she could claim compensatory damages.”

The detective’s slightly convoluted statement confused Koki, but after running through it several times in his head, he grasped what Kaga was saying.

“You think my father had a bit on the side?”

Koki had raised his voice, and Kaga darted a nervous glance around the café before returning his gaze to him.

“Your reaction suggests that you didn’t know.”

Koki shook his head.

“How could I? I haven’t seen my father for ages. I’d be the last one to know about something like that.”

“What about before? Did your father always have an eye for the ladies? Did he and your mother ever fight about anything like that?”

“Not so far as I know. Dad neglected us, but that was because he was so focused on his work; he wasn’t out living the playboy lifestyle. Frankly, I can’t imagine him having an affair.”

Kaga nodded, then, slightly hesitantly, pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He pressed a few buttons, then turned it around so Koki could see the screen.

“I’m breaking the rules. Don’t tell anyone I showed you this.”

It was a picture of a young woman in a suit, apparently unaware that she was being photographed.

“You snapped this secretly?” asked Koki.

“I told you it was against the rules, didn’t I?” Kaga grinned. “Ever seen her before?”

“She’s very pretty. I’ve never seen her, no.”

“Look carefully. You’re quite sure you don’t recognize her?”

Koki took another careful look. Maybe Kaga was right. Koki had a vague sense of having seen the woman before, but it felt more like illusion than reality. He explained as much to Kaga.

“Is that right?” Kaga returned the cell phone to his pocket.

Koki decided to try his luck.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Kaga hesitated briefly, then said, “Someone currently in close proximity to Naohiro Kiyose. Don’t go getting the wrong idea, though. We have no confirmation that they are lovers.”

“But that’s what you suspect, Detective Kaga. You think she’s my father’s mistress.”

“Mistress is the wrong word. Mr. Kiyose is single. After the divorce, at least, he’s free to go out with whomever he wants without his ex-wife having the right to claim damages.”

Koki realized what Kaga was hinting at.

“Okay. So if my father had been seeing this woman before the divorce, my mother might have a claim.”

“You’re a sharp lad,” said Kaga, with a smile.

“You wouldn’t be taking photos of this woman unless you thought she had some connection to the murder, would you?” An idea came to Koki. “You think she was my father’s lover prior to the divorce, and that my father killed my mother to stop her finding out? Or something like that?”

Kaga stared at Koki.

“Razor-sharp instincts and brilliant deductive powers.”

“You’re making fun of me now.”

Kaga, his expression serious again, drank down the rest of his coffee.

“We like to explore all the possibilities. Part of our team is exploring that line of inquiry.”

“But what about you, Detective Kaga? Do you suspect my father?”

“Me? Pffff. I don’t really know. Besides, it hardly matters. The job of a precinct detective like me is to support the Metropolitan Police detectives.” Kaga looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. I’d like to stay longer, but I have another appointment. Sorry.”

He picked up the bill and rose to his feet.

“I should pay for this,” said Koki, reaching for the bill.

“You’re still mastering your craft. You need to save your money.” Clutching the bill, Kaga headed for the counter.

4

Koki ducked his head when he saw Naohiro emerge from the building’s lobby. Naohiro didn’t so much as glance at the fast food joint on the far side of the street where Koki was sitting. He hailed a cab and was driven away, even though his normal routine was to take the train home.

A few minutes later, a young woman in a white blouse came out of the same building. This was who Koki had been waiting for. He sprang to his feet, smacking one of his shins hard against the leg of the table.

He left the restaurant and hurried after the woman. She appeared to be headed for the subway. Thank goodness she’s alone, thought Koki.

Koki had known one of his father’s employees since he was a boy. Koki had called the man last night and asked a few questions about what his father had been up to recently. His friend proved very cagey. In the end, Koki lost his temper and just asked straight out if it was true about his father having a mistress.

“No, that’s not true. That’s just gossip. The girl’s young and pretty, so everyone makes her out to be his mistress as a joke. You shouldn’t take it seriously.”

Koki wasn’t going to let his friend be so evasive.

“Tell me exactly what’s going on. I’ll decide if it’s gossip or not,” he declared.

After making Koki promise not to reveal where he’d gotten the information, his friend had told him that the woman’s name was Yuri Miyamoto and that she’d been working as Naohiro’s private secretary since April.

Yuri Miyamoto had to be the woman Kaga had shown him a photograph of. Koki was sure of it.

And now there she was — a tall woman with excellent posture, striding briskly down the street. She took such long strides that Koki had to break into a half run to catch up with her.

When he was right behind her, he brought his breathing under control, then called her name: “Miss Miyamoto?”

She stopped walking and spun around, one hand clutching the strap of her shoulder bag. Her eyes widened at the sight of Koki.

He bowed slightly.

“Sorry to surprise you like this. I’m the son of Naohiro Kiyose. My name’s Koki.”

She blinked a few times and said, “So?”

“I need to talk to you. It will only take ten minutes. Can you spare the time?”

Her uncertainty was obvious from the way her eyes darted from side to side. Getting flustered when someone you didn’t know waylaid you was only natural. Koki waited for her to regain her composure.

She didn’t need long.

“All right, let’s go.” She was looking right into his eyes.

“Mr. Kiyose,” a voice called out from behind him just as he was turning down Amazake Alley. When Naohiro turned around, he saw Detective Kaga hurrying toward him.

“Fancy bumping into you. Or maybe it’s not a coincidence after all?”

Kaga scratched his head and smiled wryly. “Your recent visits to Nihonbashi are the talk of the task force.”

“Am I under surveillance?”

“Let’s not get melodramatic. It’s important for the investigation that we keep tabs on everybody.”

Naohiro shrugged and stuck out his lower lip.

“What do you want with me, then?”

“I have a few questions. The first is, why do you keep coming to Nihonbashi like this?”

“Do I have to answer?”

“Is there a reason you don’t want to tell me?” Kaga shot back with a smile.

Naohiro snorted, then said, “You okay to walk and talk?”

“Exactly what I hoped to do. This is a nice neighborhood for a walk.”

The two men set off side by side. It was evening, and it had cooled down a little. A wind chime tinkled somewhere in the distance.

Naohiro paused in front of the window of a shamisen shop.

“According to my son, Mineko had a special reason for living around here. I want to know what that reason was. That’s why I keep coming here. I’ve got this notion that if I walk around enough, I might be able to figure out what it was. My son tells me it’s none of my business, though.”

Naohiro’s face, which was reflected in the shop window, was etched with grief.

“Mr. Kiyose, why did you agree to divorce your wife?”

Naohiro tottered as if his knees had buckled.

“Do we have to discuss that?”

“It didn’t have anything to do with Yuri Miyamoto, did it? She wasn’t the reason you wanted a divorce. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That now, when it’s too late, you’ve realized how much you loved Mineko Mitsui... your wife. That’s why you’re doing everything you can to learn something about her life in this neighborhood. Am I right?”

Naohiro slowly shook his head.

“My feelings for Mineko never changed. There’s nothing for me to ‘realize’ about them. Anyway, getting divorced was the right thing to do, the right choice for both of us. It’s because I want to believe that, that I want to find out what Mineko had discovered here in Nihonbashi that made her want a divorce.”

Kaga thought for a moment, then pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

“Have you got any plans for tonight, Mr. Kiyose?”

“Tonight? No.”

“Then why don’t we grab something to eat? I’d like to talk to you about your wife.”

Koki took Yuri Miyamoto to a café and steered her to a table in the back corner where no one could overhear them.

“I’ll get right to the point,” he said, keeping his voice low. “What’s your relationship with my father?”

“I’m his secretary,” said Yuri Miyamoto, staring into her latte.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Koki leaned over the table toward her. “I’m asking you whether you have a personal relationship with him.”

Yuri Miyamoto looked up.

“That’s private. I’m not obliged to tell you anything.”

Koki wasn’t expecting her to counterattack. He’d taken it for granted that she would tell him what he wanted to know.

“I’m his son. I think I have a right to know about his relationships with women.”

“If that’s what you think, perhaps you should ask him directly.”

“He wouldn’t tell me the truth. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“All the more reason for me not to talk to you. I’m sure President Kiyose has his own perspective, and mine is in line with his.”

Koki’s left leg started jiggling beneath the table. It happened when he got annoyed. Yuri Miyamoto sat there, completely indifferent, drinking her latte with blank-faced detachment.

She’s certainly a looker... The thought pushed its way through Koki’s resentment. Despite her self-possession, he could see that she was still young. She’s not even ten years older than me.

“My father is a suspect. The police think he might have killed my mom. If you’re his mistress and your relationship predated the divorce, my mother would have had the right to claim compensatory damages from my father. The police think he killed her to avoid having to pay.”

Yuri Miyamoto’s eyes widened.

“That’s absurd. How can you suspect your own father?”

“It’s the police who suspect him, not me.”

She shook her head vigorously.

“The important thing is how you feel. If you really trusted your father, you wouldn’t be so easily influenced by what other people say.”

Was she telling him off? Koki angrily clenched his jaw.

“When you get down to it, I guess I don’t trust him much at all.”

Yuri Miyamoto’s eyes took on a steely look. “You’re shittin’ me?”

“Oh, very street. I love it.”

“Who cares how I speak? You’re serious? You really don’t trust your own father?”

“No, I don’t. More to the point, I can’t. He never paid any attention to his family; even his own wife filing for divorce didn’t give him pause. Then, the minute he’s divorced, he gets himself a woman like you. How can I trust a man like that? He didn’t even bother coming to my mother’s funeral.”

Yuri Miyamoto was looking up at the ceiling and muttering something to herself.

“What’s got into you?” asked Koki.

Ignoring him, she kept on muttering. Listening closely, he managed to make out what she was saying: “I can’t handle this anymore. I can’t handle this anymore.”

Koki was about to say something, when she tilted her head back down. There was steel in her eyes.

“Koki, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Huh?”

“I shouldn’t be the one to do this, but I simply can’t bear it anymore. I’m going to tell you the truth.”

“The truth? What do you mean?”

“Just shut up and listen.” As if to get her courage up, Yuri Miyamoto downed her latte in a single gulp.

5

The restaurant to which Kaga took Naohiro was Matsuya. Since it described itself as a ryotei — an old-fashioned Japanese-style restaurant — on the sign outside, Naohiro was surprised when they were shown into a big room with Western furniture.

That was about as far as Naohiro’s interest in the design of the place went. His whole focus switched to Kaga as soon as the detective opened his mouth. Kaga revealed Mineko’s reasons for choosing to live in Kodenmacho — how she’d located her only son, discovered that his girlfriend was pregnant and then moved to be near them both, unaware that through a series of coincidences she’d gotten the wrong impression of what was really going on. Koki was right, thought Naohiro. None of it had anything to do with him. If Mineko hadn’t been murdered, the whole thing would have been nothing more than a silly story for them to laugh about. Now, however, it was different: listening to Kaga, Naohiro felt a tightness in his chest.

“So what do you think?” concluded Kaga, as he reached for his beer.

Naohiro had ordered the same craft beer from Hida, and like Kaga, he’d yet to drink a drop.

“The whole thing’s a big surprise. I’d never have guessed what was behind her move,” stated Naohiro frankly.

“According to her lawyer, your wife had her doubts about your fidelity at the time of the divorce. She was pretty confident that a thorough investigation would turn something up. In the end, though, she opted for a friendly negotiation. Her priority was her independence. That she was prepared to go for compensatory damages at this late stage tends to suggest that she had a strong reason for doing so.”

“Something to do with her thinking that our son was about to become a dad, you mean? That would make sense.” Naohiro took a swig of beer. “But I wasn’t unfaithful to her.”

“I hear that the presence of a certain Yuri Miyamoto is setting tongues wagging at your firm. Those rumors could have found their way back to your wife. She might have regarded them as grounds to sue for damages.”

Naohiro shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“You may think so, but when you install an unknown young woman in your private office immediately after getting divorced, people are bound to speculate that there was a preexisting relationship. And the two of you did have a relationship, didn’t you? The next question is, what kind of relationship was it? When a man and a woman are involved, people tend to jump to the same conclusion... No one would ever think of a blood relationship.”

Naohiro started and looked hard at Kaga. The Nihonbashi detective, apparently unaware of having said anything shocking, was coolly lifting an appetizer to his mouth.

Naohiro heaved a guttural sigh.

“Why am I not surprised? I thought you’d figured it out when Yuri said you’d spoken to her. You asked about her ring, didn’t you?”

“The ring she had on her left pinkie was handmade. I don’t want to be rude, but it was easy to see that it wasn’t the work of a professional. As it wasn’t in line with her overall look, I guessed that it was a gift from someone special. I’d seen similar rings before — fifty-yen coins hollowed out with a file.”

Naohiro was scratching the corner of his eyebrow with a fingertip and smiling sheepishly.

“They were quite popular twenty-something years back. Men who didn’t have the money to buy a proper ring made them for their sweethearts. Nobody makes them these days — let alone a pinkie ring version.”

“I gave that ring to her mother as a present.”

“I guessed as much. The mother must have been petite, with delicate little hands and fingers, making the ring the right size for her ring finger.”

“I was in my twenties and didn’t have a penny to my name.” Naohiro tipped a slug of beer down his throat.

It had happened back when people still went to bars to sing karaoke, rather than rent private rooms, Naohiro explained. Having graduated from college but having not yet found a full-time job, he was making ends meet by working at a little karaoke bar. The pay was atrocious, but he was young. The idea of saving anything had never crossed his mind.

A woman by the name of Tokiko worked at the same bar. She was the manager and was five years older than he. She’d already been married — and divorced.

One night, when Tokiko was drunk, Naohiro had taken her back to his place. They began sleeping together. Naohiro was head over heels in love with her and was convinced that she felt the same.

On Tokiko’s birthday, after they had closed the bar, Naohiro gave her his present — a ring made from a hollowed-out fifty-yen piece. As he handed it to her, he proposed.

Overcome with emotion, Tokiko began to cry, repeating the words “thank you” over and over, and promising to treasure the ring all her life.

Naohiro hadn’t gotten an answer to his marriage proposal that night.

“I’m heading back to my parents’ place for three days tomorrow. I’ll give you my answer after that. There’s something I want to give you, too.”

Tokiko was smiling though her eyes were puffy with tears.

Sure enough, Tokiko didn’t come in to work for the next three days. But she didn’t reappear on the fourth day, either. The bartender who was subbing for her told Naohiro that she’d quit.

Naohiro had rushed over to Tokiko’s apartment. The place had been cleaned out. He was mystified. A few days later, he received a letter from her. There was no address on it.

Despite being deeply touched by his offer of marriage, Tokiko wrote, she was going to decline. It wasn’t right for a person like her to hold back a young man like him who had so much going for him. She also gave him a scolding: his parents had paid for his college; the least he could do in return was find something worthwhile to do with his life.

Naohiro had felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. It suddenly dawned on him just how much he had taken his parents’ kindness for granted and how blind he’d been to the realities of life. Tokiko’s letter was full of love, but he could also detect that she was aware of his immaturity.

From that day on, Naohiro had been a changed man. He quit his job in the bar and joined a support services company. It was a decision that ultimately paid dividends. The knowledge he’d built up at that business served as the foundation for the cleaning company he started.

“I bumped into Yuri in a Ginza hostess club a couple of years ago. She was the spitting image of Tokiko. That was surprise enough, but what really blew my mind was the fact that she had that ring on.”

“She was wearing it when you met her?” asked Kaga.

Naohiro nodded.

“‘What’s with the ring?’ I asked her. I got a shock when she told me it was an heirloom from her mother, who had died three years earlier from pancreatic cancer. ‘What’s your mom’s name?’ The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to stop myself. I needed to calm down and think things through first.

“After that, I paid repeated visits to the club. Every time I went there, I paid extra so that Yuri would sit with me. I did my best to get her to open up about herself. You never really know if those hostesses are telling you the truth, but she told me that she’d been raised by a single mother.”

Eventually, Naohiro found out a decisive piece of information: Yuri’s date of birth. She’d been conceived back when Naohiro and Tokiko were involved.

One night, Naohiro decided that it was time: he told Yuri that he needed to talk to her alone.

“There’s something important I need to tell you. It’s connected to your mother. I’m guessing her name was Tokiko. Am I right?”

Yuri’s eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know?” she asked.

That was when he was sure it was true. The room seemed to spin around him. Does this sort of thing really happen? he was thinking.

When the club closed for the night, Naohiro took Yuri to one of his favorite Japanese restaurants. He picked it because it had private rooms. The moment they were alone together, Naohiro confessed to being her father. He spoke about everything that had happened between them — including that he had no idea about Tokiko being pregnant.

“I apologized for all the grief I’d put them through. It was pretty damn obvious that life hadn’t been easy for them. Maybe I hadn’t known anything about it, but the ultimate responsibility was still mine. After all, if I hadn’t been such a poor excuse for a man, Tokiko might have agreed to marry me,” said Naohiro.

“How did Ms. Miyamoto respond?” Kaga asked.

“With surprise, naturally enough. She had a hard time believing it was true, I think. Who could blame her? Still, she realized I wasn’t just some old man with the hots for her. We didn’t talk much that first evening, but Yuri got in touch a few days later to talk some more.”

“Things seems to have settled down quite nicely now,” said Kaga.

“As I already had a family, my plan was to help her out discreetly for the time being.”

“Which is when your wife came out and asked for a divorce?”

Naohiro snorted with laughter.

“Ironic, isn’t it? My experience with Tokiko had taught me that women liked men who worked hard. Now Mineko was telling me that hard work alone wasn’t enough. Must be something wrong with me. I just can’t seem to get the balance right.”

“But losing Mineko enabled you to bring Yuri closer to you.”

“I wanted to be a proper father to the girl. I certainly wasn’t prepared to let her keep working as a hostess in a Ginza nightclub. I knew that hiring her would trigger all sorts of gossip, but I planned to reveal that she was my daughter when the time felt right. I wanted to tell Koki first, but Mineko’s murder made that impossible. Koki seems to hate me more with every passing day.”

Naohiro tipped what was left of his beer down his throat. He’d always dreamed of going out drinking like this with his son, listening to his troubles and dispensing fatherly advice. But the reality was that every single conversation they had ended in a fight.

“I wonder what good things you and your ex-wife got out of the divorce?”

Naohiro screwed up his face in distaste. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“I’m not trying to be sarcastic. Ms. Mitsui, convinced that your son’s girlfriend was pregnant, moved to live near him. The minute you were single again, you hired Yuri. In other words, you both wanted the same thing: family. The bonds of family are strong, Mr. Kiyose. You and Koki are family, you mustn’t forget that.”

Naohiro looked at Kaga. The detective smiled shyly and fiddled with his chopsticks on the table.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was overstepping my bounds.”

“No,” murmured Naohiro. The cell phone in his jacket pocket pinged to announce an incoming text. “Excuse me a moment,” he said and pulled it out.

It was from Yuri. The first word was “Urgent,” so Naohiro read it right away.

Naohiro gasped and froze, staring at the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Kaga asked.

Naohiro silently showed him the text. Kaga frowned briefly, then smiled.

“Looks like your new family is already coming together. Go on, go and join them.”

“Thanks.” Naohiro stood up. “Was the ring enough for you to work out that Yuri was my daughter?” he asked, still standing by the table.

That would be quite a feat of deduction, thought Kaga, grinning mischievously.

“It was a gut thing. I thought she might be, the minute I saw her.”

“You’re kidding?”

“They look very much alike, Yuri and Koki.”

Naohiro just grunted.

“Koki said that her face looked familiar. I think he’d seen it in his mirror.”

Naohiro stared at Kaga, shaking his head.

“One last question. What’s your rank?”

“Sergeant.”

“Well, they should promote you to lieutenant,” declared Naohiro, and headed for the door.