Six Four (30 page)

‘There’s a supermarket, in Matsukawa-machi. Tokumatsu. Do you know it?’

‘I think so. Next to the pachinko parlour?’

‘That’s the one. You know, there’s a chance he might be there, parked near the entrance to the car park. I go there to shop every couple of days; I’ve seen his car a few times now.’

Surveillance?

‘Parked on the street?’

‘That’s right. He’s using one of the side streets, off the main road. Wide enough so his car’s not in the way, of course,’ Meiko said, defending her husband, having misunderstood the question.

‘And he’s in the car, alone?’

‘Yes. I wonder if he’s found someone he’s staking out? I tried calling out to him one time, but he got really angry. Even told me I had to stay away.’

He’d be angry with her again. She’d refused to give out her husband’s mobile number, but that meant nothing now she’d told
Mikami where he might be. Although she had volunteered the information herself, Mikami felt awkward, as though he’d taken advantage of her good nature.

‘I’ll try him there, thanks.’

‘Yes, please do. Sorry you had to come all this way.’

‘It’s no problem. I should be the one apologizing, for barging in on you like this. When I see your husband, I’ll tell him I just happened to be passing by.’

Meiko let out a happy shriek. ‘If you wouldn’t mind. He’d probably be angry with me otherwise.’

She didn’t seem overly concerned, even as she said this.
A good family
. He turned to leave but looked back almost immediately.

‘His car . . .’

‘It’s a dark-green Skyline. A real old banger.’

‘Thanks. Next time I’ll make sure I’m not in such a rush.’

Mikami looked back a final time as he heard a little voice.

‘Bye-bye.’

The little girl shyly hid her face in her mother’s chest, her features an attractive mix of both parents’.

Mikami turned right when the lights at the intersection turned amber.

He hadn’t taken everything Meiko had said as fact. If Kakinuma
was
by himself, he wouldn’t be on official surveillance duty. What was he up to? Mikami mulled over the question as he sped down the bypass.

He crossed into Matsukawa-machi. The area was full of large, out-of-town superstores. As it was December, the streets were bustling. Cars and consumers zipped back and forth with concentrated purpose. Mikami couldn’t miss the gigantic sign announcing the Tokumatsu supermarket. He took a left and made his way down the side of the store before taking a right at the next junction to circle around the back.

His foot came down hard on the brakes.

I’ll be damned . . .

On the left side of the road, parked ahead of five or six cars lined up against one wall of a consumer electronics store, was Kakinuma’s dark-green Skyline. Mikami pressed on the accelerator to approach from behind. He made a quick check of the exhaust. There was a faint trail of white smoke. He edged a little closer. The inside of the vehicle came into view through the rear window. A head, the hair short, sat in the tipped-back driver’s seat. Mikami drove straight on, glancing to the side as he passed by. The profile of a man. Kakinuma. He was looking directly ahead. Less than ten metres away in that direction was the
entrance leading into the Tokumatsu car park. A couple of uniformed guards were busy directing the heavy traffic, guiding customers in and out with red batons.
Kakinuma’s watching the cars, or the customers.
But Mikami dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came. The Skyline was parked too close to the entrance. He was also at the front of the row of other cars, meaning he was in plain sight of anyone driving out. The rules of surveillance suggested his target would be fifteen metres further on – the back entrance to the pachinko parlour. Either that, or the main entrance to the multipurpose building across the road.

Mikami made a left, then another, navigating his way through the side streets until he was behind the line of parked cars. He pulled up behind the last vehicle and cut the engine; he got out of his car and into the street.
Guy’s a real detective.
The words Meiko had told him sat heavily in the pit of his stomach. He approached the Skyline as though it were an interrogation room. When he reached it, he lightly rapped his knuckles against the driver-side window. He sensed Kakinuma jump. His eyes opened wide when he turned to see Mikami standing there.
Open up.
Mikami formed the words with his mouth. Kakinuma stumbled over himself, unlocking the door. The car was parked flat against the wall, so the passenger side was off limits. Mikami pulled open the rear door and climbed into the back of the car. He grabbed the fabric of the passenger seat and pulled himself forwards so he could see Kakinuma from the side. The man had gone completely pale.

‘What are you doing here?’

Mikami didn’t give him any time to think up an excuse. Kakinuma managed little more than a grunt in response.

‘Are you waiting for someone? Or keeping your eye on someone?’

Surveillance. Routine mapping. Mikami was sure Kakinuma was engaged in one or the other, but the view through the windscreen didn’t seem to fit now he was inside the car. The car park
was, as he’d thought, too close. The interior of the car was in plain sight, almost inviting people to look in. At the same time, the two entrances – those of the pachinko parlour and the multi purpose building – seemed too far away, making it a stretch to keep tabs on someone with the naked eye.

‘We’re moving,’ Kakinuma blurted, letting off the handbrake. He put the car into drive and started to press down on the accelerator. Mikami reached out, pulling the handbrake back up in almost perfect unison, making the car jerking forwards before coming again to an abrupt stop, sending the two of them pitching forwards. One of the men directing the traffic turned around in surprise, having no doubt registered the screech of the tyres.

Mikami sat back in the seat and said, ‘I’m not here to get in the way. Just carry on like I’m not here.’

‘I’m done for the day.’

Done for the day? What did he mean,
done for the day
?

‘It’s fine, just carry on as you were. I want the kidnapper to see justice, too; no less than you do.’ Mikami heard Kakinuma swallow. ‘I’m here for something else. You can keep looking ahead, that’s fine. Just hear me out.’

‘What do you want?’

Mikami looked into the rear-view mirror. He could see Kakinuma’s eyes. They shied away from meeting his.

‘I went to see Hiyoshi yesterday, the one who used to be in Forensics.’ Mikami held back from saying he’d met him, intimating only that he’d been to his house. Kakinuma was blinking more rapidly now. He would have had warning of Mikami’s attempted ambush from Urushibara’s call, but physical reactions weren’t something you could fully suppress. ‘His mother told me all about what happened. That her son had made a fatal error at Amamiya’s. That the captain – that Urushibara – had yelled at him for being incompetent. This is all correct, I take it?’

‘I don’t . . . I don’t know.’

His voice broke into a falsetto as he replied.

‘That Hiyoshi left the force, that he spent the next fourteen years refusing to leave the house. Did you know about that?’

‘No . . .’

‘He’d been crying, hadn’t he? The second day you were with the Amamiyas.’

Kakinuma’s eyes were restless, moving in the rear-view mirror.

‘I didn’t know.’

‘Somebody saw it. Koda was trying to comfort him. What were you doing?’

‘I can’t remember. I . . . was probably busy talking with HQ.’

Mikami leaned forwards again, bringing his face right up to Kakinuma’s. The man’s ears had gone bright red.

‘Do you know about the Koda memo?’

‘No.’

The answer had come too quickly. Kakinuma’s half-open mouth was trembling slightly.

‘Koda wrote about Hiyoshi’s mistake. Yes?’

‘I just told you—’

‘But Urushibara covered up both the mistake and the memo. Because he was afraid he’d lose his job.’

‘Mikami, I don’t know an—’

‘Are you the kind of person who abandons his team mates just to protect his boss?’

Mikami put everything into the words. Kakinuma’s neck stiffened. His arteries were pumping visibly.

Mikami waited for Kakinuma’s reaction.

Kakinuma eventually opened his mouth to speak. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Mikami let out a heavy sigh. All Kakinuma’s physical reactions had registered positive. But not his words. Mikami had guessed it might go this way. Kakinuma was on the far side of a dark river; appealing to his morals alone wouldn’t get him across.

‘Do you mind if I move off now?’ There was a firmness to his voice. His hand was already on the handbrake.

‘Keep doing what it is you’re doing.’

‘I already told you, I’m done.’

‘
What’s
done?’

‘My job. What I’m doing here.’

They were talking at odds to each other. The mood in the car became increasingly one of irritation.

‘I’m pulling out.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ Mikami threatened. His brain felt like it was on the verge of some kind of realization.

‘Anyone can see us here. If you want to talk, can we please do it somewhere else?’

‘You’re the one who parked here . . . where anyone can see us.’

Something clicked when he put it into words. Kakinuma had done this on purpose: there was no other explanation. Kakinuma had wilfully ignored the rules of a stake-out: he’d
meant
to park somewhere where he stood out. The man’s shrunken pupils flicked a glance at Mikami in the mirror.

‘I can drive you back to your car.’

‘I’m just back there. I’ll get out once we’ve finished talking.’

‘We haven’t finished yet?’

‘Not yet.’

Mikami had run out of moves. And it pained him to pressure Kakinuma any more. The image of Meiko was there in his mind. He’d seen their three children. Kakinuma was no different to him. He was unable to do the right thing, even if he wanted to. He was protecting his family.

Mikami sensed his will to fight wither away. He felt a wave of resignation washing over him. Yet he found himself increasingly curious about the strange disconnect in their conversation. Kakinuma had maintained his position without breaking, but, instead of letting his guard down, with each passing second he seemed to be growing more agitated. He looked like he was choking. He was holding the handbrake halfway down, desperate to get away.

No, that wasn’t it.

He wasn’t trying to get away. He was trying to get
Mikami
out of the way.

Why?

Mikami lifted his eyes and studied the view out of the windscreen.

‘If you’ve got something else to say could you hurry up and say it?’ Kakinuma pleaded. It was the voice of someone facing a very specific crisis. ‘Mikami, please!’

Mikami said nothing.

‘If not, I’ll have to ask you to leave.’

Kakinuma swung around in his seat, blocking the view from the window. Mikami shoved him out of the way and stared ahead.

‘Mikami, you’ve got what you came for!’

Kakinuma was all but screaming, but Mikami’s focus was unshakable. His eyes were being drawn towards a single point. He had the feeling you had when a face you’d been waiting for suddenly appeared in the middle of a vast crowd.

Kazuki Koda.

The car-park entrance. One of the two guards on traffic duty was Koda. His eyes were half hidden under his cap and, from the looks of it, he’d changed significantly in the last fourteen years; still, Mikami was sure it was him. The narrow eyes, the tall nose, the compact mouth. Each was a match for Mikami’s memory.

Kakinuma’s head had slumped on to his shoulders. Witnessing the depth of the man’s despair was all Mikami needed to solidify his astonishment. As though a cloth had been whisked away, everything came into view. Kakinuma hadn’t been on surveillance. Nor had he been trying to map someone’s routine. He was here as a demonstration of intent. His closeness to the object of his surveillance was deliberate: he was to show his face, intimidate Koda.
Don’t talk to anyone about Amamiya’s. We can make things difficult, whenever we want.

Kakinuma probably made sure Koda was aware of him on a
regular basis. He was there to drum it into Koda that they intended to keep him under long-term surveillance. That was the role Kakinuma had been assigned.

Mikami shuddered as he fixed his gaze on Kakinuma’s stooped back.

‘All this time?’

No answer.

‘Really? You’ve been doing this . . . for fourteen years?’

Kakinuma let out a groan, and cradled his head in his hands. He’d been following orders. Urushibara’s confidence, Mikami now realized, had stemmed from this framework of intimidation.

‘I’m sorry I got in your way. I’ll get the rest from Koda.’

Mikami put his hand on the handle to open the door. Kakinuma let out a subdued cry, then twisted all the way around. There were tears in his bloodshot eyes.

‘No . . . just let him be.’

‘You’re in no position to say that.’

‘No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. But it’s not what you think. This isn’t about intimidation or surveillance – not any more. It’s just habit now. For me. For Koda, too.’

‘Habit?’

‘It’s what happens after fourteen years of doing this.
Ah, he’s here today
– that’s really all it is now. We don’t see each other outside of that. It’s become an unspoken agreement. It’s how I’ve made it this far – Koda, too.’ Kakinuma threw his head into a deep bow. ‘I’m begging you, Mikami. Don’t make any trouble. If you go after him, with your charisma . . . he might well say something. If he does, I’ll have no choice but to report it.’

Mikami refrained from nodding.

‘I’ve been watching him since the beginning. He’s had nothing but pain since he left. Can’t land himself a decent job. He might have left by his own volition, but everyone’s prejudiced against someone who’s resigned from the force. And he left so suddenly he wasn’t even able to get a letter of recommendation. He’s had to
go from one job to the next. All physically hard. Now, he’s finally married, got himself a family. He’s started to settle into a new life. That’s why—’