Salvation of a Saint

EIGHT

Ayane Mashiba’s parents lived in a tidy, organized residential quarter of Sapporo, and their house was a squat, square three-storey structure. The ground floor was a garage, but was treated as a basement for zoning purposes, with two regular storeys above it. A stairway led up to the front entrance on the second storey.

‘There are lots of houses like this around here,’ Ayane’s father, Kazuhiro Mita, explained, putting out some rice crackers for his guests. ‘We get a lot of snow in the winter, so the front door has to be a way off the ground.’

Kusanagi nodded. It’s a different world up here. He reached for the steaming cup of tea that Ayane’s mother, Tokiko, had just brought. She sat down next to her husband, the empty tea tray resting on her lap.

‘We were very surprised to hear the news about Mr Mashiba. We didn’t know what to make of it when they said it wasn’t an accident or an illness, but a police investigation was the last thing we expected.’ Kazuhiro’s speckled white eyebrows formed little inverted Vs above his eyes.

‘It’s not been officially ruled a homicide yet,’ Kusanagi said.

Kazuhiro frowned, the wrinkles running deep on his thin face. ‘That man had his share of enemies. Most capable businessmen do. Still, you’d like to think that people were a little more decent than that …’

Kazuhiro had been employed at a local credit union until his retirement five years earlier. He’d seen his share of businessmen in his day, and no doubt he knew the type.

‘I was wondering,’ Tokiko said, looking up. ‘How is Ayane doing? On the phone she says she’s fine, but then again, I’m sure she doesn’t want to worry us.’

‘Surprisingly well, actually. Of course, it was all a great shock,’ Kusanagi explained, ‘but throughout it all she’s been very helpful with our investigation.’

‘Well, then, that’s a relief.’ The woman’s worry that lingered in her face belied her words.

‘Ayane says she came home on Saturday? She told us that she had concerns about your health.’ Kusanagi fixed his gaze on Kazuhiro. The older man was thin, and a bit pale, but he didn’t seem to be suffering.

‘Yeah, my pancreas,’ the older man explained. ‘Got an inflammation about three years ago, and haven’t really felt right since. I get a fever sometimes, and some days my stomach and back hurt so much I can’t move. But I’ve been carrying on. That’s what you do, you know. Carry on.’

‘Did you need Ayane’s help for any specific reason this time?’

‘No, nothing like that,’ Kazuhiro said with a glance towards his wife.

Tokiko shook her head. ‘She called us on Friday night. Said she’d be here the next day. She said she was worried about her father and she hadn’t visited us since getting married.’

‘Did she have any other reasons for her visit?’

‘Not that she told us.’

‘How long did she say she was going to stay?’

‘Well, she didn’t say anything in particular – when I asked her when she’d be going back to Tokyo, she told me she hadn’t decided yet.’

Kusanagi made a mental note: no urgent reason to rush home. So why had she gone to visit her parents? Nine times out of ten, when a married woman suddenly took a trip back home, it was because of marital troubles.

‘Er, Detective?’ Kazuhiro said a bit hesitantly. ‘You seem awfully interested in why Ayane came up to see us. Care to tell us why?’

Kusanagi smiled. The old banker’s still sharp. ‘If, in fact, Mr Mashiba’s death was a homicide, there’s a chance that the guilty party intentionally picked a time when Ayane wouldn’t be at home to strike.’ The detective spoke slowly and precisely. ‘If that is the case, then we have to ask how the guilty party knew where Ayane would be. That’s why I’m afraid we have to cover all the bases. Please understand, it’s all part of standard procedure.’

‘Is that so,’ Kazuhiro said, nodding. It was unclear whether he bought the detective’s story or not.

‘How did she spend her time when she was here?’ Kusanagi asked, looking at both parents.

‘She stayed at home the whole day on Saturday. At night, we went out to a local sushi place, just the three of us. One of her favourite places when she was growing up,’ Tokiko told him.

‘What’s the name of the restaurant?’

A suspicious look crossed Tokiko’s face, mirrored in the expression of her husband beside her.

‘Sorry.’ Kusanagi smiled again. ‘We don’t know what might become important as the investigation continues, so I need to take down every detail, no matter how trivial. We’d prefer not to have to make the trip up here again, if possible.’

Tokiko looked unsatisfied, but she still told him the name of the restaurant: ‘Lucky Sushi.’

‘And she went with a friend to a hot springs on Sunday?’

‘Yes, her friend Saki – they’ve been close since middle school. Her parents live not a five-minute walk away from here. Saki moved down to the south end of town when she got married, but Ayane gave her a call on Saturday night and the two went out – to Jozankei, I think it was.’

Kusanagi nodded, glancing at his notepad. Mamiya had previously got the name of the friend from Ayane: Sakiko Motooka. Utsumi was scheduled to pay her a visit on her way back from the springs.

‘You mentioned that this was Ayane’s first trip since her marriage. Did she happen to say anything about Mr Mash -iba while she was here?’

Tokiko cocked her head. ‘Just that he was busy as always with work, but still managed to find time to play golf. That sort of thing.’

‘Nothing about how things were going at home?’

‘Not a word. She was so busy asking us questions I could barely get a word in edgeways. She wanted to know how her father was doing, how her brother was doing – oh, she has one brother, he’s working in the United States.’

‘So, if she had never visited home,’ Kusanagi went on, ‘I guess you didn’t see much of Mr Mashiba?’

‘That’s true. We went to visit him at his home just before the wedding, but that was the last time we talked at any length. He invited us to visit any time, of course, but with Kazuhiro’s health not being so great, we never seemed to get the chance.’

‘I doubt we met him more than four times in all,’ Kazuhiro said, shrugging.

‘It sounds like they made the decision to get married rather quickly?’

‘I should say. Ayane was thirty, and we were just starting to worry whether she would ever find someone, when she gives us a call to say she’s tying the knot.’ Tokiko displayed a mother’s pout.

According to her parents, Ayane had left for Tokyo eight years earlier – and before that she had gone to a junior college for two years, and spent some time as an exchange student in the UK. Her interest in patchwork started during high school; by graduation she had already received some recognition at professional contests. Her popularity soared when, upon her return from England, she had published a book about patchwork quilting that caught on with a core group of enthusiasts.

‘She was so interested in her work, whenever we’d ask her when she was planning on getting married, she’d tell us she didn’t have any time to be someone’s wife,’ Tokiko said. ‘“I’m so busy, I want a wife of my own,” she’d tell us.’

‘Really.’ Kusanagi chuckled, a bit surprised. ‘She seemed quite good at managing the affairs of the house.’

Kazuhiro shook his head. ‘Being good at crafts doesn’t mean you’re good at housework. When she was still living here, I don’t think she did a single thing around the place, did she, Mama? I don’t think she even cooked for herself when she was living in Tokyo. Alone, I mean, before she got married.’

‘You don’t say?’

‘It’s true,’ Tokiko said. ‘We visited her there a few times, and I’ve never seen a stove that clean. I think she ate out or bought boxed lunches at the convenience stores.’

‘But according to their friends, they put on parties quite regularly, with your daughter cooking.’

‘We heard that, too. Ayane told us. I guess she went to a cooking school before she got married, and picked up a few tricks. We used to say, “I guess she must have found the right man, for her to pick up a pot and spoon.”’

‘And now he’s gone,’ Kazuhiro said, lowering his gaze.

‘Would it be all right for us to visit her?’ the mother asked. ‘We’d like to help out with the arrangements for the funeral and such.’

‘Of course, that’s no problem at all,’ Kusanagi told them. ‘However, I can’t say at this point when we will be able to release the body.’

‘Oh …’ Tokiko muttered.

‘Give Ayane a call and talk to her about it later on,’ Kazuhiro suggested to his wife.

Kusanagi thanked his hosts and prepared to leave. As he was putting on his shoes, he noticed a patchwork jacket hanging from a coat rack in the entryway. It was very long, long enough to reach the knees of an average adult.

‘She made it for us several years ago,’ Tokiko told him. ‘It’s for Kazuhiro to wear in the winter when he goes out to pick up the papers and the mail.’

‘I only wish she hadn’t felt the need to make it so bright,’ Kazuhiro said, though his pleasure was evident.

‘His mother went out once during the wintertime and fell so hard she broke her hip bone. Ayane remembered that story, so she sewed a cushion halfway down,’ Tokiko explained, showing them the inside of the long jacket.

Considerate as always, Kusanagi thought.

Leaving the Mita household behind, he made his way to Lucky Sushi. There was a ‘closed’ sign on the door, but the chef was inside, getting ready for the day. He was a man of about fifty with a crew cut, and he remembered Ayane’s recent visit.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her around, so I wanted to make it a special night for them. I think they were here until around ten o’clock …’ The chef raised an eyebrow at Kusanagi. ‘Did something happen?’

There was no point in telling the whole city what had happened, so Kusanagi shook his head and gave some vague excuses before leaving. He was scheduled to meet with Utsumi back in the lounge of the hotel by supper. He found her there, in the middle of writing something in her notebook.

‘Did you get anything?’ he asked, sitting down across from her.

‘Well, Ayane did stay at an inn in Jozankei Hot Springs. I talked to one of the caretakers there who said she and her friend seemed to have had a good time.’

‘And Ms Sakiko Motooka?’

‘Met her.’

‘Anything that didn’t fit with what Mrs Mashiba told us?’

Utsumi looked down at the floor for a moment before shaking her head. ‘Nothing at all. Everything happened just like she said.’

‘Same here. She didn’t have time to go to Tokyo and back.’

‘Ms Motooka said that she met up with Mrs Mashiba in the A.M. on Sunday. And her story also confirmed that Mrs Mashiba didn’t notice the message on her phone until later that night.’

‘Sounds pretty ironclad to me,’ Kusanagi said, leaning back in his chair with an eye on the junior detective. ‘Ayane Mashiba’s not our killer. It’s impossible. I know you’re not satisfied with that, but we have to look at the objective truth here.’

Utsumi looked away for a breath, then turned back to Kusanagi. ‘There were a few things that worried me about Ms Motooka’s story.’

‘Such as?’

‘She said it had been a very long time since she last saw Mrs Mashiba. Since at least before she was married.’

‘That fits with what her parents told us.’

‘She said she thought her friend had changed. Before she’d been energetic, edgy, even – but this time she seemed calm. Maybe even a little lacklustre.’

‘So?’ Kusanagi said. ‘It’s likely that Mrs Mashiba was aware of her husband’s infidelity. Maybe she came home to recuperate? I don’t see why any of that should be cause for worry. Like the chief said, we’re only here to find out whether her alibi holds or not, and it does. What else is there?’

‘One other thing,’ Utsumi said, her expression unchanging. ‘She said that she saw Mrs Mashiba turn on her mobile phone several times. She would check it for messages, then turn it right off again.’

‘Saving the batteries. I do that all the time.’

‘You think that’s what it was?’

‘You got another theory?’

‘Maybe she was expecting a call, but she didn’t want to answer it. She preferred to get a message, then call back.’

Kusanagi shook his head. This Utsumi’s a sharp cookie, he thought, but a little stubborn. He looked down at his watch and stood. ‘Let’s go. We’re going to miss our plane.’