Journey Under the Midnight Sun Read online

  ‘Haven’t the faintest idea,’ Sasagaki replied with a shrug. ‘Except, whoever it was, the victim knew him.’ The tidiness of the man’s clothes and hair, the lack of any signs of a struggle and the frontal stab wound told him that much.

  ‘So the question is: what were they doing in a place like this?’

  Sasagaki went around the room again, scanning the floors and wall. It seemed like it had served as a temporary office while the building was under construction. The black sofa the body had been lying on was probably left over from that. There was also a steel desk, two folding chairs and a meeting table with folding legs left abandoned against the wall. The exposed metal was rusting, and a thick, floury layer of dust covered everything. Construction had stopped two and a half years ago.

  Sasagaki’s gaze stopped on the wall above and to the side of the black sofa where a square hole for some kind of duct opened just below the ceiling. Normally the duct would have been covered with a grating, but that had been removed, if it had ever been put on in the first place.

  If hadn’t been for the duct, they might not have discovered the body until much later. According to the local detectives, the kid who found the body was a third-grader from the neighbourhood elementary school. After Saturday classes ended at noon, the boy and four of his classmates had come to the building – not to play dodgeball or tag, but to explore the building’s labyrinthine ventilation ducts. Sasagaki had to agree that crawling on all fours through the narrow, twisting passages would probably seem like a grand adventure to a boy.

  Apparently, at some point along the way, one of them had taken a wrong turn. Separated from the other boys, he had crawled blindly through the ducts, panicking, until he eventually reached the abandoned office. At first, the boy had thought the man on the sofa was sleeping. He’d crept out of the air duct as quietly as he could so as not to wake him and the man hadn’t moved at all. He’d gingerly stepped closer and that was when he saw the blood.

  The boy had run home and told his family at about one in the afternoon. It took another twenty minutes or so until his mother actually believed him. The record showed that her phone call to the station came at 1.33 p.m.

  ‘A pawnbroker, huh?’ Nakatsuka said suddenly. ‘You think the job requires meeting someone in a place like this?’

  ‘If it was someone who didn’t want to be seen, or someone he didn’t want to be seen with.’

  ‘Could be, but why here? If he wanted to meet someone in secret, there are all sorts of places he could’ve gone. And if he was worried about prying eyes, why not pick a place farther from home?’

  ‘True.’ Sasagaki rubbed his chin. He could feel stubble against his palm. He had rushed out of the house this morning without time to shave.

  ‘His wife was something, though.’ Nakatsuka changed the subject. ‘He was fifty-two and she was… what? Just over thirty? Practically a girl when they would’ve met.’

  ‘A working girl,’ Sasagaki muttered quietly.

  Nakatsuka shook his head. ‘She had the make-up for it. Done up to the nines, and this place is hardly a stone’s throw from her house. And how ’bout that performance?’

  ‘You saying her tears were as fake as her lashes?’

  ‘Your words, not mine,’ Nakatsuka smiled, then his face went hard. ‘They should be done questioning. Sasagaki, you mind seeing her home?’

  ‘Sure thing.’ Sasagaki gave a light bow of his head and headed for the door.

  Most of the onlookers outside had gone, replaced by a gaggle of newspaper reporters. It looked like one of the television stations was there, too.

  Sasagaki glanced over the parked police vehicles and spotted Yaeko Kirihara in the back seat of the second car from the front. Kobayashi was sitting next to her and Koga was in the passenger seat. Sasagaki walked over and rapped on the rear door window. Kobayashi opened the door and stepped out.

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘We’ve gone over pretty much everything. Honestly, she’s still a little ruffled,’ Kobayashi said, covering his mouth with his hand.

  ‘Did you have her check his belongings?’

  ‘I did. Wallet’s missing. And a lighter.’

  ‘She remembered a missing lighter?’

  ‘A Dunhill. They’re expensive.’

  Sasagaki grunted. ‘When’s the last time she saw him?’

  ‘He left the house some time between two and three yesterday. Didn’t say where he was going. She got worried when he didn’t come back in the morning and was about to call the police when she got the call they’d found him.’

  ‘Anything about someone inviting him out?’

  ‘She doesn’t know. Says she can’t remember if there was a phone call before he left the house, either.’

  ‘Anything unusual about him when he left?’

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’

  Sasagaki scratched his chin. There was nothing here to go on. Nothing at all. ‘I figure she doesn’t have any guesses who it might be?’

  Kobayashi frowned and shook his head.

  ‘She know anything about the building?’

  ‘Asked that. She knew it was here but had no idea what kind of place it was. She says this was her first time in it today, and she’d never heard her husband talk about it before.’

  Sasagaki smiled wryly. ‘Well, we established a whole lot that didn’t happen.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Nothing to apologise about.’ Sasagaki rapped the younger detective on the chest with the back of his hand. ‘I’ll take her on home. You don’t mind if I borrow Koga to drive?’

  ‘No problem.’

  Sasagaki got into the back of the car with the widow and told Koga to head for the Kirihara place. ‘Drive around for a little while first. Don’t want the press picking up on location.’

  Koga nodded and took off.

  Turning to Yaeko, Sasagaki introduced himself. Her only reply was to nod, apparently uninterested in learning the detective’s name.

  ‘So no one’s at your house now?’

  ‘Just someone watching the shop. And my son should be back from school,’ she said, looking down at the floor of the car.

  ‘You have a son? How old?’

  ‘He’s in fifth grade.’

  That would make him ten or eleven. Sasagaki looked back at Yaeko. She had done her best to cover it up with make-up, but her skin was rough, and some wrinkles were noticeable. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to have a son that age.

  ‘I heard that your husband went out without saying anything yesterday? Was that a frequent occurrence?’

  ‘Sure. But just for drinks, most times. I assumed that’s what he was up to yesterday, and didn’t pay it much mind.’

  ‘And staying out all night? Did that happen sometimes?’

  ‘On the rare occasion.’

  ‘And he wouldn’t call, even when he stayed out?’

  ‘Hardly. Oh, I asked him to call plenty of times, but he’d just say “yeah yeah”. I guess I’d got used to it. Still, I never – I never thought…’ Yaeko pressed her hand to her mouth.

  After they had driven around for a while, they stopped next to a telephone pole with a street sign that read ōE 3. It was a narrow street with terraced houses lining either side.

  ‘It’s right up there,’ Koga said, pointing ahead through the windscreen. About twenty metres in front of the car Sasagaki saw the sign for the Kirihara Pawnshop. The street was empty. The media obviously hadn’t figured out who the victim was yet.

  ‘I’ll take her in, you can head back,’ Sasagaki said as he stepped out of the car.

  The corrugated shutter at the front of the shop was lowered down to the height of Sasagaki’s chin. He ducked under and went inside after Yaeko. The entrance was lined on either side with display cases. The name ‘Kirihara’ was written in gold brushstrokes across the frosted glass of the door.

  Yaeko opened it and went inside. Sasagaki followed.

  ‘Hey there,’ the man at the front
counter said when they walked in. He was around forty years old, slender build, with a pointed chin. His hair was black and perfectly combed into a parting on one side.

  Yaeko gave a little sigh and sat down in what Sasagaki assumed was a chair for customers.

  ‘Well?’ The man looked between Sasagaki and Yaeko.

  Yaeko put a hand to her forehead. ‘It was him.’

  ‘What?’ The man’s face darkened. ‘He was killed?’

  She nodded her head and mumbled yes.

  ‘That’s crazy!’ The man shook his head in astonishment. He looked off to one side, blinking, collecting his thoughts.

  ‘Sasagaki, Osaka PD. I’m sorry for your loss.’ He showed the man his badge. ‘You work here?’

  ‘Yeah, um, here.’ The man opened the drawer and handed over a business card.

  Sasagaki bowed his head and took the card. He noticed that the man was wearing a platinum ring on the pinky of his right hand. Flashy for a guy.

  The card said the man’s name was Isamu Matsuura, the manager.

  ‘You been here long?’ Sasagaki asked.

  ‘Yeah. About five years, I guess.’

  That didn’t seem like very long to Sasagaki. He wanted to ask the guy where he had worked before, how he’d got the job, but decided to leave that be for today at least. He would be back soon enough. Probably more than once.

  ‘I heard that Mr Kirihara went out yesterday afternoon?’

  ‘That’s right. Around two-thirty, I’d say.’

  ‘And he didn’t give any indication of where he was going?’

  ‘Nope. He likes to do things on his own, rarely talks to us about anything to do with work.’

  ‘And you didn’t notice anything unusual about him when he went out? Was he dressed differently, carrying anything out of the ordinary?’

  ‘Not that I noticed.’ Matsuura shrugged and gave the back of his neck a scratch. ‘Though he did seem to be concerned about the time.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Well, I thought I saw him check his watch. But maybe I’m just imagining that.’

  Sasagaki took a cursory look around the shop. Behind where Matsuura stood was a sliding screen door, tightly closed. That would be the living room. There was a place to take off your shoes to the left of the counter, in front of a short hallway leading into the residential part of the building. There was a door on the left wall just inside the hallway, which struck Sasagaki as possibly a storage closet, though the placement was a bit odd.

  ‘How late were you open yesterday?’

  ‘Well,’ Matsuura took a look at the big round clock on the wall. ‘We usually close at six, but I think we didn’t really have everything done until seven or so.’

  ‘And you were the only one manning the shop?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s pretty typical when the boss is out.’

  ‘What did you do after closing?’

  ‘I went right home.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Over in Teradacho.’

  ‘That’s a bit of a hike. You come by car?’

  ‘No, I take the train.’

  Even considering time for changing trains, it would take about thirty minutes to get from here to Teradacho. Leaving the shop by seven would get him home by eight, at the latest.

  ‘Any family, Mr Matsuura?’

  ‘No, it’s just me. Got divorced six years ago, so I’m going it alone. Got an apartment.’

  ‘And yesterday, after you got home, you were alone?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  No alibi, Sasagaki noted, but he kept his face blank.

  ‘So, you’re not often watching the shop?’ Sasagaki asked, this time turning to Yaeko, who was still sitting, a hand pressed to her forehead.

  ‘I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do,’ she said in a thin voice.

  ‘Were you out yesterday?’

  ‘No, I was home all day.’

  ‘You didn’t step out for anything? Shopping, maybe?’

  She shook her head. Then she stood, weakly. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to lie down for a bit. It’s hard even just sitting up.’

  ‘Of course. You go right ahead.’

  Yaeko took off her shoes, nearly stumbling, and opened the door to the left. Sasagaki saw a staircase beyond it. One mystery solved, he thought. She closed the door and he heard her ascending the steps. When he could hear her footsteps no longer, Sasagaki took a step closer to Matsuura. ‘When you heard that Mr Kirihara hadn’t come home, was that this morning?’

  ‘Yeah. Me and his missus were worried. Then we got that call.’

  ‘That must’ve been quite a shock.’

  ‘Of course, yeah. Tell you the truth, I still don’t believe it. I mean, who would kill the boss? Maybe it was a mistake?’

  ‘Can’t think of anyone who might’ve wanted to do something like this?’

  ‘Not a one.’

  ‘In this line of business, you must get a lot of different kinds of customers. You’re sure there wasn’t anyone with a bone to pick? Maybe about money?’

  ‘Well, we have some strange customers, that’s true. People blame their troubles on us when we’re the ones loaning them money. But none of them strike me as the killing sort.’ Matsuura shook his head. ‘I can’t think of anyone who would do something like that.’

  ‘I understand you want to look out for your clients, but it’s important for our investigation that we look into any possibility, no matter how slight. I was hoping you could show me a list of your recent customers?’

  The man gave a weak frown. ‘A list?’

  ‘You must have something. How else would you know who you’d loaned money to? Keep track of your collateral?’

  ‘Yeah, we got a ledger.’

  ‘Think you could let me take a look? I’ll take it back to the station, have them make a copy, and bring it right back. You have my word no one else will see it but us.’

  ‘I’m not sure I got the authority…’

  ‘I’ll be happy to wait while you get permission from Mrs Kirihara.’

  Matsuura frowned for a little while before finally nodding. ‘All right. I’ll let you have it, but please, be careful with it, OK?’

  ‘Thank you. You sure you don’t need her permission?’

  ‘It’s fine. I’ll tell her later. It’s not like I’m going to get in trouble with the boss.’

  Matsuura swivelled his chair ninety degrees and opened the door of the cabinet next to his knee. Sasagaki saw several thick files standing on end. He was leaning forward to take a closer look when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the stairs open. Sasagaki froze.