A Cop's Eyes (24 page)

While he was at the center, his loathing toward Natsume grew and grew.

Even after he left, his hatred didn't subside at all. Convinced that he had nowhere to go, and nothing to do, whether or not he finished middle school, his despair may have been entwined with everything else back then.

No longer able to contain the rage blooming in his chest, he bought a hammer at a hardware store and, concealing it on his person, followed Natsume as he returned home from the detention center. He was ready to attack if Natsume wandered into a dark spot. But the chance never arrived, and Natsume entered a housing complex near the center.

Seiji watched with frustration from outside the complex as the man climbed the stairs and was welcomed home by a woman who poked her face out of the door. The bastard smiled happily as he embraced a child who'd also come out.

The moment Seiji was treated to a glimpse of the warm household, an impulse surged from deep inside him.

The reason the guy could spout such idealistic nonsense was that he was happy. He couldn't begin to understand Seiji's feelings.

The following day too, Seiji went out to the complex where
Natsume lived.

When a woman and a kid emerged from the unit he'd singled out the previous day, he slinked after them. Natsume's child was a girl. On her long, black hair was a pretty hair ornament. When they got to a nearby park, the woman and girl started playing.

It was a happy scene of a child with her parent. The warm family that he'd never had—

Gazing at the scene, he was helpless against the rage that overtook him.

Then, a thought dreadful and repulsive even to himself raced around in his head.

For having spouted all that stuff to him, Natsume needed to learn the meaning of hardship. When he did, he'd see things Seiji's way, without a doubt. He'd understand true despair, which made it impossible to face such hardship. He'd know hate, which nested deep in your heart and lived there as long as you did.

When the girl strayed from her mother's side and headed to the shade of a tree, he followed after the kid. Checking his surroundings to make sure that no one was near, he approached her from behind and called out to her. The moment she turned towards him with a smile, he hit her head with the hammer.

When the girl started to collapse face-first to the ground, he unconsciously reached out his hand and supported her head. Then he laid her down. An endless stream of blood was issuing from where he'd struck her.

He'd done something horrible. He felt anything but calm, but noticed that his fingers had touched the girl's hair ornament.

He might have left fingerprints on it—

Snatching it from Emi's head, he slid the hammer under his belt and ran for his life. When he recovered his wits, he was gripping the ornament, stained with blood, in his left hand.

The incident was covered widely. As Seiji watched the news in fear, Natsume came on TV as the victim's father.

Stop this—please don't rob kids of their future—face what you've done, and hurry and turn yourself in
—

The man's tearful pleading brought no satisfaction whatsoever to Seiji. A hollowness clung to him and wouldn't let go.

He didn't need to be told by Natsume. He didn't intend to do such a thing again. Yet, a week later, another assault that copycatted Seiji's occurred.

Kyoko's younger sister, Yasuko, had died as a result.

“Last night, I got contacted by Tomomi.”

Seiji's chopsticks paused and he lifted his face to Kyoko's words.

“I was asked if we were going to Ohta's funeral …”

Last morning, Kyoko had frozen from the shock of seeing Ohta's case on the news, but now she seemed much calmer.

“That's right … even though we weren't close, he was our classmate,” Seiji answered, averting his eyes from Kyoko. He stretched his chopsticks towards the cooked fish in front of him.

He didn't have much of an appetite, but if he acted strange with his wife, she might sense that something was off.

If Kyoko learned that Seiji was involved and that he'd been visited by detectives at the bar, what would she think?

He brought his eating utensils to the sink and went to the bedroom. He changed into pajamas and slipped under the covers laid out next to Nozomi.

These past few days, he hadn't been able to sleep much. If he didn't rest at least a bit, neither his body nor his mind would bear up.

As he stared at the dim ceiling, the door opened and Kyoko came into the bedroom. Without saying anything, she joined him under the covers.

“What … are you sleepy?” he asked, finding it odd. Usually, while Seiji slept, she would clean or wash or play with Nozomi.

“Sei, make love to me.”

Kyoko hugged him under the covers.

“We'll wake Nozomi.”

“It's fine. I want you to fuck me.”

Kyoko kissed him. She slid her hand into his pajamas and caressed him aggressively.

“Sei, I love you …”

She sucked on his lips like she was starving.

Seiji was a bit bewildered by her behavior.

For half a year, they hadn't enjoyed that kind of intimacy. There was no specific reason, but Seiji had been awfully busy since opening the new bar, and Kyoko had been tired from Nozomi's childcare as well as other things, and they'd naturally stopped being together physically.

It was the first time, ever, that Kyoko had initiated it with such passion, though.

It'd been a while, and his body ached to hold her, but thanks to his anxiety over Ohta, he couldn't get in the mood.

“Sorry … I'm tired today …”

Seiji detached himself from Kyoko and pretended to sleep.

“I wonder what it's like being a shut-in for ten years …” Nagamine couldn't help muttering. He looked at Natsume, who was in the driver's seat.

“I wonder, too. It might be like being in prison … Maybe it's even lonelier.”

At his partner's reply, Nagamine faced forward again and let out a small sigh.

They were three days into the investigation but hadn't made much progress.

No matter how much they looked into Toru Ohta's contacts, no acquaintances with a motive to kill surfaced. The guy didn't even have a cellphone. Why had Ohta, who lived mostly refusing
to make contact with anything outside his room, been murdered?

They had even thought of it from the perspective of a robbery, but it was difficult to rule out some tie to the assailant case from ten years ago.

“It seems to be over there.”

He looked to where Natsume pointed and saw a signboard on the first floor of a building. “Direct Staff Service”: the business handled direct-mail advertisements to households.

According to their canvassing of nearby residents, no suspicious person had been witnessed visiting Ohta's house. The investigators were conducting an exhaustive search of door-to-door and newspaper delivery services, among other leads.

Natsume and Nagamine got out of the car and went to visit the company. They stated the purpose of their visit to a man who said he was the supervisor.

“That area's postings are handled by a woman called Ms. Fujimoto,” the supervisor told them after sifting through some documents.

“Where is she now?” Nagamine asked.

“Who knows. We asked her to work today, but there isn't a specific mailing time …”

“Please tell us her contact info.”

As they approached the convenience store, they saw a woman standing in the parking lot.

Pulling up there, Nagamine opened the car door and greeted the woman.

“Are you Ms. Fujimoto?” he asked.

The woman nodded, looking slightly bewildered.

“Sorry for bothering you while you're working. We're from the police. Would you talk to us inside the car?” he said, showing her his badge.

Fujimoto got into the back seat. They had gotten her
cellphone number from the supervisor at Direct Staff Service and arranged to meet at a convenience store near the Ohta residence. Nagamine immediately laid out a map of the neighborhood and summarized their business to her.

“I did make deliveries in the area that day … but I don't think I saw any suspicious people,” she answered.

“Sorry, but could you actually come to the house now?”

They drove the car out of the lot and towards Ohta's house.

“It's here …”

They got out of the car and stood in front of the residence. Nagamine asked for her impression.

“I did come here. That reminds me, I saw a woman visiting around that time.”

“A woman?”

“Yes … a man opened the door and invited her in. It almost seemed like he was dragging her in, grinning.”

“Was it this man?”

They showed her a photo of Toru Ohta, and she nodded yes.

“Around what time was this?”

“It was … after one, I think. I don't remember the specific time … but it was between one and two.”

Slightly before the estimated time of death. Nagamine, unable to hold back his excitement, leaned forward a little as he asked, “What kind of woman was she?”

“She was young and pretty. This might be rude, but the man seemed a little gross and … I remember very briefly wondering what kind of relationship they could possibly have.”

At the evening investigation meeting, the forensics personnel stood up and started giving their report.

“First, we'd like to share that we found DNA on the victim's body and genitalia that was not his.”

In that case, Toru Ohta might have had intercourse with a
woman before being murdered.

Nagamine remembered what Fujimoto had said earlier. Shortly before the estimated hour of the crime, Ohta had let a young and pretty woman into his home. What sort, though? Perhaps it was rude, just as Fujimoto had said, but Nagamine couldn't imagine Ohta having that kind of relationship with a woman. She might have been a sex worker.

“Continuing on, Toru Ohta's DNA matched that from the glove used in the assailant case ten years ago. We also confirmed the bloodstains on the hammer to be from Emi Natsume and Yasuko Toda.”

This set off a clamor in the hall.

Nagamine glanced at Natsume, who was sitting next to him. Natsume wore a taut expression and had his gaze fixed straight ahead to conceal any distress he might be feeling.

The course of action that the investigation section chief announced for the next day onwards took the forensics report into account.

First, they'd continue to pursue the robbery line and leads on Toru Ohta's contacts. In addition, they were to look into the assailant case victims' families acting on their grudge; the chance that Ohta had an accomplice; and the possibility that he might have been blackmailed with those photos.

It was the worst development imaginable, Nagamine thought.

From here on out, Natsume would be putting his efforts into apprehending the murderer of the perp who'd assaulted his daughter. Moreover, it required targeting a family who had been hurt, like his own, and whose child had died.

Would Natsume really be able to keep his cool like he'd said?

When the investigation meeting ended, Nagamine was called over by Yabusawa.

“Starting tomorrow, you'll look into Yasuko Toda's relatives,” Yabusawa said, his tone bitter.

“Yes.”

“You, though, can't get on his wavelength,” cautioned Yabusawa, no doubt referring to Natsume.

“Understood.”

“Don't you feel reluctant?” Nagamine asked.

Natsume, who was in the driver's seat, glanced at him. “About what?”

“We're going to see people who're in a position similar to yours. What's more, you need to suspect them.”

Natsume and his wife Minayo's alibis had been confirmed the day before; he'd been at the East Ikebukuro precinct investigation section, and his wife had been visiting their daughter's hospital. Other investigators were confirming Minayo's family's alibis as they spoke. Natsume was an only child, and apparently his parents had passed away in a traffic accident when he was young.

“I asked for it,” Natsume let drop.

“You did?”

“I requested the station chief to put me on investigating the other victim's family if Toru Ohta turned out to be the culprit of the assailant case.”

“Oh? So then …”

“When I asked him to consider the work I've done up until now, he said he understood.”

Wow
—Nagamine understood why Yabusawa had had such a bitter look assigning the task to them.

“I have one thing to add to our conversation from the other day.”

“What …”

“I was wrong when I promised you that my emotions wouldn't interfere even if the victims' relatives ended up being suspects.”

“Wrong?”

“If it was the victim's family … I can't say that I don't sympathize. I do, as someone who suffered the same sorrow. But I'd never forgive the crime it made them commit.”

Nagamine couldn't take his eyes off of Natsume's profile for some time.

Yasuko Toda's parents lived in a house in Nakano. Ten years ago, they had been living in Nerima; perhaps the trauma of the case had made them move away.

Facing the Todas' doorbell, Nagamine hesitated a little.

Having investigated the case back then, he'd interviewed Yasuko's family about many things. He remembered how the parents and the high school sister had wept. To think that he'd meet them again under such circumstances …

“This is the police,” he said, pressing the bell.

The door opened to a woman peeking her head out. It was Yasuko's mother. He remembered her as having jet-black hair, but now, a decade later, her hair was completely white.

“What does the police …” she began, perturbed. Then she seemed to recognize Nagamine. “You're the detective from back then …”

“It's been a very long time.”