Authors: Nick Tanner
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller
Wednesday 5
th
January 8:15pm
Twenty minutes later Inspector Saito entered the pathology labs – workplace of chief pathologist Takahashi. As usual the primly turned out pathologist, with her grey hair pinned up and wearing thick-rimmed spectacles, seemed less than happy to see Inspector Saito waltz into the centre of her domain.
‘You’re back then?’ she sniffed.
‘So it appears.’
She turned away from him and walked back to the corner of the lab to wash her hands as if contaminated by his sheer presence.
‘Where’s Inspector Sakamoto?’
‘Indisposed!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means whatever you want it to, but the less you ask the better it will be for you,’ snapped Saito. ‘Now, let’s just get on with it, shall we?’ He was always quick to lose his temper when in the presence of the pathologist and it seemed that over the intervening three months she’d lost none of her own hostility towards him. Not for the first time Saito bemoaned the absence of her predecessor, the more outgoing Mifune.
‘That’s fine with me,’ she responded. ‘Over here, please.’ Saito followed her to the body of their latest victim.
‘We have a young, female adult,’ she started. ‘Early to mid twenties, well nourished with no signs of physical abnormality. Cause of death – asphyxiation through strangulation.’ She pointed to the marks on the neck.
‘Do they match the kind of marks found on Yamada Eri?’
‘Almost exactly the same, except in this instance there is also a great deal trauma to the face. She was beaten as well as strangled.’
Saito examined the face of the young victim. She would have been undeniably attractive in life and as ever a deep wave of sadness enveloped him. Staring into the eyes of a murder victim was often the hardest thing he ever had to do but at least on this occasion Takahashi had closed them. If he could avoid looking at the victim’s face he often did. But this time he didn’t. This time he stared intently at her features allowing his dark eyes to move across the dead woman’s forehead, down her nose and around her mouth and as he did so the cogs within his mind were whizzing frantically away, trying to connect, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Somewhere there was recognition.
Mori would have noted this look, the fire behind the eyes, and would have suspected that for a second time that evening Inspector Saito had begun to forge a solution.
On this particular occasion
however, I
nspector Saito would not have agreed with the guess work of his sergeant as for the moment nothing
had
connected. Wild thought – yes! But for now his brain was not fully assisting him. He was wondering how tall the latest victim was. ‘Okay – time of death?’ he asked instead.
‘As I told Inspector Sakamoto… About six days ago! Some signs of curling after death,’ continued Takahashi.
‘That’s consistent. She was seen being dumped out of a car!’
Takahashi moved swiftly around the body from the side to the head leaving Saito to follow in her wake. ‘Aside from the ligature marks there are no other major injuries to her body apart from the bruising to her face. Here and here.’ She pointed to bruises on the woman’s eye and cheek. ‘The preliminary examination revealed no other identifying features on the body - no tattoo, no obviously broken arms or legs or anything remarkable about her teeth. There is some obvious trace evidence from the murderer - namely skin under her finger nails and I expect there will be strands of fibre on her clothing. Forensics will no doubt be able to tell you more, of course.’
‘Of course!’
She moved once more around to the feet of the victim. ‘The most telling new evidence is that she had intercourse before she was killed.’
‘Rape?’
‘I couldn’t possibly say.’
‘Push yourself.’ Saito felt that he was forever having the self-same conversation with Takahashi. It irritated him immensely. He pushed her one further time and this time received a positive response.
‘Rape, almost probably! All I can say for definite is that there was intercourse and male ejaculation and aggression - bruising. You would need further corroboration, which I doubt you will get, but the bruising would suggest rape, don’t you think.’
‘Send me the prelim report over will you - as soon as you can.’
Five minutes later Takahashi completed her verbal report leaving Saito feeling that he hadn’t really learnt anything new – at least not from Takahashi. Nevertheless before he left he turned and gave a polite bow. ‘
Arigato
’ he said in appreciation of her hard work and service, sensing a need, as ever, to start re-building some bridges. He closed the door quietly behind him.
She was the only one in recent days who hadn’t asked after his own injuries.
Wednesday 5
th
January 9:35pm
A weary Inspector Saito kicked off his shoes and stepped up into his apartment with
Junsa
Saito following quickly behind him, the two having met just as he was exiting the pathology labs. In her hands she was carrying two take-out
ton katsu
(sliced breaded pork) bento boxes that they’d bought from the ground floor of the local department store before it had shut up for the night. In his hand he was carrying an equally newly purchased bottle of sake.
He headed straight for the sideboard and pulled out a couple of tumblers.
‘You want one?’
She hesitated.
‘Go on. It’ll do you some good.’
‘Okay then,’ she deferred. ‘Thank you.’ She held out her glass becoming alarmed at how full the Inspector was filling it. She wasn’t a drinker as a rule, having a tendency to flush and redden, making her feel quite hot and giddy, but on this occasion she felt that it would do no harm to join in with the Inspector. She still hadn’t got over the astonishing scuffle in the car park nor the fact of Sakamoto's immediate suspension.
A small drink would do no harm at all she thought - a small drink, that is!
‘What a day!’ Inspector Saito tossed his jacket onto the sofa, where it immediately slipped onto the floor. He then flopped down himself grabbing his side in pain as he did so.
Junsa
Saito picked up the jacket, placed it on an armchair and then took up her position on the floor, cross-legged underneath the
Kotatsu
. She opened the bento boxes and the two of them proceeded to eat in silence, picking hungrily at the slices of pork, the finely-chopped raw cabbage and rice. Inspector Saito sloshed back his sake and topped up his glass.
Junsa
Saito declined the offer of a second. She could already sense herself reddening under its effects.
As they ate Inspector Saito slowly turned over in his mind the unbelievable behaviour of Sakamoto.
‘What do you make of him - Inspector Sakamoto?’ he suddenly asked.
‘What do
I
make of him?’
‘Well, yes. I assume you've seen enough of him. What do you think?’
She was unused to making judgements on senior officers and even less so in verbalising them. She placed her chopsticks down and considered the question. ‘To be honest I’ve not seen that much of him, just the meeting today, the car-park and… oh yes, he did introduce himself to me yesterday
afternoon
. I don’t have much to go on...’
‘Well?’
‘I guess he seems aloof most of the time. That’s my biggest impression - as if he's above everyone else.’
'Hmmm...'
'And at the briefing he just seemed... Well he just seemed defeated.'
‘Defeated?’
‘Well, yes, but I can't really believe that he planted any evidence and if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed that he'd take it upon himself to launch an attack on you… on us. He’s a frightened man - a desperate man, maybe.’
‘Hmmm…’ Inspector Saito rubbed his chin and then topped up his glass a further time. Once again he offered the same to
Junsa
Saito, who declined yet again.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it. There was extreme hate in his eyes,’ she continued.
Saito pulled a wry smile. ‘I’m not sure that he hates me exactly - more views me as an irritant to his progression.'
'More than an irritant!'
'Maybe so. I never realised he was so ambitious – so ambitious or so desperate, as you say, that he would do what he has just done.’ He shook his head in disbelief.
He thought for a couple of minutes, rubbing is chin yet again. ‘Do you know
Junsa
, something doesn’t quite add up. There are numerous cases where mistakes are made, probably too many to mention – cases where suspects are apprehended and where it is later proved that they are innocent and have to be released. It's not unusual. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, I have to admit. Even monkeys fall from trees…’
For a second Inspector Saito fell silent. An intriguing thought had just clicked into place.
‘What?’ asked
Junsa
Saito.
‘Nothing, nothing. Something just popped into my head.’
‘A bad memory?’
‘Something like that, but where was I… Yes, in my experience, despite my errors, at none of those times did I ever feel it necessary to plant evidence, particularly in a situation as motiveless as this one. There have been plenty of times where we’ve had several motives and no alibi but haven't had the clinching evidence. On that kind of occasion I might believe how someone might,
wrongly
, attempt to create justice. But with Yamada Hideki… I don’t think so. It’s almost as if Sakamoto was so desperate to avoid anyone else falling under suspicion, particularly our Yakuza friends, that he was determined to resort to almost anything.’
He sat back on the sofa and nursed his sake and yet again for many minutes he sat silently thinking things through. As he did so
Junsa
Saito tidied away the bento boxes.
‘I still don't understand it, sir. I still can't think of why Sakamoto would do what he has done,' she said as she resumed her position on the floor.
'I think it's obvious!'
'It is?'
'Of course it is. Bear in mind the kind of threats he was flinging at us as he was dragged off. He was quite clearly referring to the Yakuza, don't you think? Can you explain it any other way?’ He placed down his sake glass his face a picture of seriousness.
‘You’re not really suggesting that he’s on the Yakuza payroll, are you?’
Inspector Saito looked down and played once more with his sake glass between his hands. ‘I think it was only after we started to suggest Yakuza involvement in the whole affair that he became increasingly desperate to plant evidence implicating Yamada. He needed to move the spotlight away from the Yakuza whilst at the same time ensuring that his own enquiry was water-tight. It has to be!'
He fell into silence once more, allowing the full meaning of what he was saying to drift through his mind. 'I often wondered how it was that he secured his promotions so rapidly and now I think we have our answer.’ Once more he shook his head.
‘It’s unbelievable,’ echoed
Junsa
Saito.
‘It also means that there are those higher up who might also be tainted. It’s not a pleasant feeling.’
‘But do you have any evidence for…’
‘Nothing other than Sakamoto’s strange behaviour tonight and I expect we’re not exactly going to get our hands on a signed contract or anything like that.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ said
Junsa
Saito yet again. ‘But yesterday he did seem keen for me to tell him anything about our investigation in terms of any links with the Yakuza. I just assumed that monitoring their activities was part of his broader remit.’
‘So have all of us. Look – let’s keep this idea to ourselves for the time being. Like I said you never know who else might be in the Yakuza’s clutches and, I hate to say this, but we’d both better watch our backs from now on.’
‘You don’t-’
‘I’m afraid I do. I think we’ve stumbled into something a lot bigger than a straight forward murder case.’
With this thought in their minds they remained silent once more.
Junsa
Saito smiled nervously but behind her smile she was now shaking in fear. It took all her self-knowledge and resilience to hold herself together.
As she sat in the security of Inspector Saito’s home she felt battered by a mix of emotions. She was now having to come to terms with a much more sinister turn of events involving Yakuza infiltration of the police force and the implications for her own safety. It made her feel vulnerable when all she really desired was protection. And these feelings were now enflamed by what possible actions might lie in the future concerning the deeds of the Yakuza in general and Inspector Sakamoto in particular.
She contemplated the week before last when her life had been in order, when all had seemed fine, when all had seemed simple. Perhaps too simple and too fine, but none-the-less a life she had become accustomed too – a life that, yes, she had enjoyed even if it had been a little boring and a little lonely.
She thought back to just six nights before when everything had been in order. She’d returned home as her daily routine had dictated at about ten-thirty, pleased to get back before the snow came down and pleased to get out of the biting cold that even the warm blooded buzz of recent gym activity couldn’t protect her against. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, which for her was not a two minute activity involving instant coffee and a kettle full of boiling water but more an exact series of operations akin to a delicate scientific experiment given the precision in the measuring out of the coffee, the warming of the pot and cup and the careful drizzling of the hot water over the steaming ground coffee beans. She’d added to this beverage a delicate corner of
anpan
and then settled down to watch the TV, flicking through the paper as she did so. All had been in order – all had been as it should have been.
Now it seemed that her own life might be in danger - it had upset her more than she could give it credit for.
Inspector Saito’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘Would you like a bath later? Because if you do I’ll have to heat the water!’
She nodded that she would and for a fraction of a second they caught each other’s eye. There was no mistaking the look of understanding between them. They both looked down embarrassed.
‘I-’ She picked up her glass. ‘Perhaps I will have that second glass,’ she said, not knowing why.
‘
Junsa
!’ said Saito touching her hand gently. ‘I should apologise for my behaviour this morning. I had no intention of spying on you. It was unforgivable and unbefitting. I’m sorry.’