Six Four (40 page)

What this boiled down to was that, while Criminal Investigations had full access to the facilities, whenever an issue cropped up concerning their management, it was Administrative Affairs, as the official managing department, who ended up shouldering the blame. Criminal Investigations might have lacked the means with which to expose malpractice from the more closed-off divisions at the department’s core, but it would have had ready access to a backlog of material in the case of the detention facilities.

Still . . .

Could they really have done it?

It seemed hard to believe; Akama’s apparent certainty meant that Mikami had to be careful in how he responded.

‘Sir, are you saying you think that this is Criminal Investigations trying to send us a message?’

‘A message? This is a blatant and unconditional threat. Seeing as they went after the detention facilities, they probably decided to take a small hit and deal us a serious blow.’

Take a small hit?

The article wouldn’t have hurt them in the slightest. Anyone in their fifties who was still a police sergeant was either gullible to a fault or just organizational flotsam. It went without saying that he wouldn’t have any experience of active duty, or in any of the department’s more high-powered roles. They had procured an ‘outsider’ for their sacrifice, making sure Administrative Affairs alone bore the brunt of the scandal.

It felt increasingly likely that it was the work of Criminal Investigations.

‘Might you be the cause, Mikami?’

The question left him stunned.
The cause? Of what?
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘You don’t remember fiddling around behind the scenes, perhaps accidentally stirring up more trouble than was necessary?’

Don’t be an idiot.
He came close to saying it. If anyone fitted that accusation, it was Futawatari.

‘I don’t remember doing that, no.’

‘Well then, did you seek to incite them on purpose?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You seem to have been paying visits to various people in Criminal Investigations. I believe I especially banned you from doing that?’

Mikami gritted his teeth.
So that’s how it is.
Akama hadn’t given him the reason for the commissioner’s visit, yet he was still ready to suspect betrayal.

‘I have nothing to hide. I’ve been getting the information I need in order to do my job, nothing more.’

‘Yes, well. You need to give this one final push, for your family’s sake, too. I will have Ishii attend the round-table meeting on his own; you can concentrate on finding out how this article came about and deal with the aftermath. Captain Kobogata will need some assistance. I want you to send someone from your team to be at the press conference in Station F. And I want to know how it went – what was asked, what the answers were – as soon as it’s done. I hope that’s understood.’

The call rang off before Mikami had a chance to respond. Mikami put the phone down, careful to be calm as he sensed Minako behind him.

For your family’s sake, too.

Never one to give up an advantage, Akama had tested the slack on Mikami’s reins.

Mikami was still glaring at the phone when it started to ring.

It was Suwa. He sounded out of breath.

‘Sir, have you seen the
Toyo
this morning?’

‘Yes.’

‘That bastard Akikawa. I knew it.’

‘The guy doesn’t know when to stop.’

‘It’s my fault. I should have had him monitored.’

With the apology, Mikami remembered the call the previous night, when he’d given Suwa a dressing-down about Mikumo; fortunately, the new problem helped mask any awkwardness.

‘The
Times
called – some of the others, too – they all want to know if the story’s true.’

‘Okay. You can tell them it’s mostly accurate. And that you believe the sergeant is already under emergency arrest.’

‘Really? He’s been arrested already?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So it’s like it said in the article?’

‘It’s probably safe to assume that, yeah.’

Suwa heaved a long sigh. Any officer would share the same sentiment. That feeling of being let down.
For God’s sake, just stop dragging our name through the mud.

‘What are they doing now, having missed the scoop?’

‘Some of them have already started calling for a press conference.’

‘There’s one scheduled for 9 a.m. in Station F. Do you think you could go?’

‘Absolutely. I’ll head into the office first, and keep a watch on things for now.’

Sensing he was about to hang up, Mikami held him back.

‘Do you have any idea as to Akikawa’s source?’

Do you think it was Criminal Investigations?
The question was implicit in the words. He wondered if Suwa was somehow connected to Akama, and if the connection went both ways. Was he aware of the trouble surrounding the commissioner’s visit?

‘Oh . . .’ Suwa paused before continuing, a little awkwardly. ‘Not really. Not yet, anyway. I’ll try asking around.’

‘That would be great,’ Mikami said, ending the call. He reflected on the cruelty of testing his own staff. Suwa didn’t know about the trouble. Mikami had needed to consider his own
relationship with the man before worrying about any possible connections he had with Akama. He hadn’t brought Suwa in on the big picture, the same way Akama hadn’t with him. He hadn’t told Kuramae, or Mikumo.

He was struck by a cold realization.

He’d never intended to forge a real connection, not in Administrative Affairs. He would return to Criminal Investigations within two years. The veiled decision, made eight months earlier, seemed now to have been fatally short-sighted.

It was seven thirty when Mikami arrived at the Prefectural HQ.

Suwa was already in the office, apparently having just arrived. Mikumo was also at her desk, talking on the phone. From the side, her face seemed a little puffy. She looked his way. Nodded a greeting. She had on only a smattering of make-up, almost nothing at all; it was, perhaps, a mark of her new resolve.

Suwa stepped in front of him, as though to block Mikami’s line of sight.

‘I sent Kuramae next door to check up on the situation. There may be some way to turn this to our advantage.’

Mikami thought he understood the implication. The
Toyo
had enjoyed a run of exclusives. And today’s article had detailed a case of gross misconduct – grade-one material. The rest of the papers would be despairing. They had come together to rally against anonymous reporting, yet the
Toyo
– which had assumed a leading role in pushing the agenda – had emerged the sole victor; the others would see the
Toyo
as having taken advantage of the chaos and betrayed them; they would feel compelled to reconsider the validity of their united front.

‘Relations must be strained right now. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble bringing the moderates into our camp. If things go well, we might even be able to convince them to abandon their boycott of the commissioner’s interview.’

Mikami gave him a cautious nod.

It was no doubt the case that things had changed in the wake
of the
Toyo
’s unexpected article, but Suwa’s expression didn’t carry the confidence of his words. It was only the previous night that he’d been insisting an apology was the only way to gain ground. Had he lost his nerve overnight? Media Relations acting of its own accord, without Akama’s knowledge: Mikami realized the proposition carried a lot of risk for an assistant inspector like Suwa, one of the department’s rising stars. It was nothing he could blame him for, but Mikami felt disappointed. Suwa still remained a loyal servant to Akama.

‘Good morning, sir.’

Mikumo got to her feet and dipped her head. Mikami had already noticed that she had finished her call. She stood with her chin pulled back, unnaturally formal and stiff. She was going to tell him she was sorry for the way she’d spoken on the phone. But she wasn’t going to apologize for going to Amigos. That was clear from the subtle narrowing of her eyes.

‘I dug a little into the guard.’ Suwa stepped between them for a second time. In his hands were a number of sheets, faxed copies and something that resembled a personnel file. ‘His name is Yoshitake Kuriyama. Fifty years old. Have you heard of him before?’

Mikami told him he hadn’t. There was a slight recognition – they had both been in the force for a long time – but he was sure at least that there was no one of that name in Criminal Investigations.

‘After graduating from college, he spent the majority of his career manning
koban
and small substations. He was transferred to the detention facilities after complaining to his boss that his back pains were getting worse.’

He wasn’t Administrative Affairs. That was Suwa’s way of stating this fact.

‘What about honours, disciplinary actions?’

‘Nothing of note. There’s a mark against him for having misplaced paperwork relating to lost property, but that was a long time ago.’

‘Do you know how he’s thought of, in general?’

‘Not too well, it seems. I’ve just asked someone at Station F. He was a bit depressive, guarded. Liked to act important. Bit of a mess, really. They did say he was relatively good-looking, that he’d been somewhat of a hit in the local bars.’

Mikami felt a wave of nausea.

‘Okay. Did you get anything on the woman?’

‘Also less than salubrious.’

Her name was Natsuko Hayashi. Thirty-seven years old. She’d worked at a massage parlour and was currently romantically involved with a known offender who specialized in breaking and entering. Her husband was serving time on charges of repeated opportunistic theft.

Mikami couldn’t hold back a scornful laugh.

‘Quite the couple. Don’t tell me she was in on charges of theft, too?’

‘Yes, for stealing a bag. From a schoolgirl trying to buy a ticket at the train station.’

Mikami stretched his neck in a circle, letting it all sink in.

‘Seems odd that he owned up.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Kuriyama. It’s not as though his name was on those vouchers he gave her. Why not tell the captain she’d made it all up?’

‘Right. Well, it seems she had made a written statement. He would have realized there’d be trouble if his boss – or his family – ever found out; seems she managed to cajole him into writing out an apology.’

Decisive, physical evidence. Had the
Toyo
known about that? If they had, then that would explain their being confident enough to go ahead with the article without first obtaining confirmation from the executive.

‘Meaning it’s possible Hayashi was the source?’

Suwa’s eyes hung unfocused for a moment; he blinked a few times, then looked back towards Mikami.

‘Doesn’t seem likely, though, right? I mean, she already had the gift vouchers. They’re probably why she thought about blackmailing Kuriyama in the first place. She wouldn’t have benefited from taking the story to the press.’

‘Okay. Who do you think handed Akikawa the story?’

Unlike on the phone, Suwa’s response was immediate. ‘I don’t have a name, but I’m pretty sure the source was a detective.’

‘What makes you think that?’ Mikami asked, his expression unchanged.

‘It was something my contact in Station F said, someone in Admin. He told me no one had known about Kuriyama’s misconduct and that, even if they had, it would have been suicide to leak the story to the press. He said it simply didn’t make sense for anyone in Admin to be the source.’

‘Doesn’t the same logic apply to detectives? After all, they think they’re the ones in charge of the facilities.’

‘Sure, but the official jurisdiction lies with Admin. And they’re pretty damn serious about maintaining confidentiality; it’s practically beaten into them.’

Unlike detectives, they keep their mouths shut. Suwa gave the impression that this was what he wanted to say. He phrased it differently, keeping the same expression.

‘Hayashi might have mentioned it in passing, to one of the detectives . . . what Kuriyama was doing to her.’

‘And the detective just happened to mention it to the press?’

Catching on to Mikami’s irritation, Suwa leaned in closer. ‘My contact did say that people were acting a bit strangely in the Criminal Investigations Division.’

‘Strangely? How so?’

‘I mean, it must have been a shock, to see the morning paper. The captain called everyone in, so they’re all there in the station, but . . . the thing is, none of the detectives is showing any sign of surprise; he said it’s as though they already knew what was going to happen, that they’re just pretending they didn’t.’

‘You won’t find a detective who shows his surprise openly.’

Even as he said this, Mikami couldn’t help feeling Suwa was probably right. They were talking about a dodgy masseuse and a husband with a penchant for breaking and entering. The couple would be well known among the station’s detectives. The atmosphere in the interrogation room would have been comparatively relaxed, more so than if she’d been a first-time offender. The chances were high that she would have opened up to one of the detectives if the guard had been abusing her. Although, judging by the fact that nothing had happened at the time of the offence, her approach had perhaps been more of an implication than a direct accusation. Either way, what mattered was that the story had probably spread through the division, then, as a secret shared between detectives, to the other stations, possibly even to the Prefectural HQ.

The conclusion was that the leak had probably come from Criminal Investigations. The rumour had made its way to Director Arakida’s office. He had ordered one of the detectives in Station F to look into the facts. Then he’d used the most effective tool he had to pressurize Administrative Affairs – the
Toyo
, with its circulation of 8 million copies.

Mikami looked back at Suwa.

‘You think the leak came from Criminal Investigations in Station F. Is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘That Akikawa went all the way to some district station in the middle of nowhere to get the story?’