Salvation of a Saint (28 page)

There was no response from the intercom, but after a moment Ayane opened the door. She gave him an oddly gentle look, as if she were a mother looking at her son. ‘Right on time, I see,’ she said.

‘Huh? Oh, right,’ Kusanagi murmured with a glance at his watch. It was exactly two P.M. – the time he had set when he called.

She opened the door wider and invited him inside.

The last time Kusanagi had visited the school was when he had brought Hiromi Wakayama down to the station for questioning. Though he hadn’t really looked around the place then, something felt different about it today. The
workstations and the furniture were all still there, but the place seemed somehow less alive.

He took the seat offered to him and gazed around the big room while Ayane poured tea, a wry smile on her face. ‘It looks barren in here, I know. I never realized how many things Hiromi had brought in until they were gone.’

Kusanagi wasn’t surprised to hear that Hiromi had quit. Most women would have hit the road the moment the secret was out.

Ayane had left her hotel yesterday to take up residence here at the school. She wasn’t planning to move back into the house – which made sense to Kusanagi. It was the scene of a murder, after all.

The widow placed a teacup in front of the detective. He thanked her.

‘I went there this morning,’ Ayane said, sitting across from him.

‘To your house?’

She put a finger on the edge of her cup, nodding. ‘Yes, to water the flowers. They were all wilted.’

Kusanagi frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I have the key and everything, but I’ve been so busy—’

She waved off his apology. ‘No, don’t worry about it, please. I never should’ve asked for that sort of favour in the first place. Honestly, I didn’t say it out of spite.’

‘I really meant to water them, I just forgot. I’ll be more careful from now on.’

Ayane shook her head. ‘Please, it’s quite all right. I’m
going to make a point of going there every day to take care of them myself.’

‘I see … well, then, I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Maybe I should return your key?’

Ayane thought for a moment, then stared at the detective. ‘Are you finished with that part of your investigation, or will you need to go back in?’

‘Well, that’s difficult to say,’ Kusanagi admitted.

‘Then please hold onto it. That way you don’t have to come and ask me every time someone needs access.’

‘Right. I’ll be sure to keep it safe,’ Kusanagi said, patting his left breast pocket.

‘That reminds me – were you the one who brought that big watering can?’

Kusanagi paused, teacup raised to his mouth, and waved his free hand. ‘Oh, that,’ he said. ‘Well, I liked the empty can you had before, but, ah, I thought a proper watering can might be more convenient. I’m sorry if it was an imposition.’

‘No, not at all. I had no idea they even made such large watering cans. It was very convenient, so much so that I wish I’d bought one earlier. Thank you.’

‘That’s a relief, then,’ Kusanagi said. ‘I was afraid you might have been attached to that can of yours.’

‘Why would anyone be attached to a can? I take it you threw it out?’

‘Yes … I hope that’s not a problem?’

‘No, not at all. You did me a favour.’

Ayane lowered her head, smiling. Just then the school’s phone – sitting on a nearby shelf – began to ring. She stood up to answer it.

‘Anne’s House, can I help you? Ms Ota? Hello! … What? Oh, I see.’

Though she was still smiling, Kusanagi could see the corners of Ayane’s mouth tense. By the time she hung up the phone, she was frowning.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said, sitting back down.

‘Is something wrong?’ Kusanagi asked.

A lonely look came into her eyes as she spoke. ‘It was one of my students. Something came up with her family and she’s had to quit. She’s been coming here for more than three years.’

‘I guess it’s tough running a family and keeping up a hobby like this.’

Ayane smiled. ‘Actually, people have been quitting right and left since yesterday. She’s the fifth one to leave.’

‘Because of the case?’

‘A bit, maybe. But I think Hiromi leaving has had a larger effect. She’s been teaching full-time for the last year, and I think many of the students thought of themselves as
her
students.’

‘So when she left, they left?’

‘Nothing so organized as that, but I think they’re noticing a shift in the mood at school. Women are sensitive to these things, you know.’

‘Right …’ Kusanagi said, not really understanding. He
had been under the impression that people came to the school in order to learn techniques from the master herself. Shouldn’t they be happy that Ayane would now be teaching them directly, instead of through an apprentice?

Utsumi would probably understand,
he thought glumly, a vision of the smiling junior detective appearing in his mind.

‘I’m sure more will quit in the coming days. These things tend to be a chain reaction. Maybe I should close the school altogether. At least for a while.’ Ayane sat for a moment with her head bowed, resting her chin on one hand. Then abruptly she straightened in her seat. ‘I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with why you’re here, does it, Detective Kusanagi?’

She looked at him directly, and Kusanagi reflexively averted his eyes. ‘I know a lot of things are up in the air right now, and I apologize,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Believe me when I say that we are doing everything in our power to resolve this case as quickly as possible. In the meantime, maybe it would be a good idea for you to take a break.’

‘I think you’re right,’ she said. ‘A little trip might be just the thing. I haven’t travelled for quite some time. Certainly nothing like I used to. Once I even went overseas by myself.’

‘That’s right – England, wasn’t it?’

‘Did my parents mention that? It was quite a while ago.’ Ayane’s eyes drifted downward, then she lifted her head. ‘That’s right, there was something I wanted you to help me with, if it’s all right?’

‘Sure thing,’ Kusanagi said, setting his teacup down on the table.

‘It’s this wall,’ Ayane said, looking up at the wall closest to them. ‘It’s a little bare.’

Indeed, the wall was completely empty, save for the faint outline showing where, until recently, something had hung.

‘The tapestry there was one of the ones that Hiromi made, so I gave it to her when she left. Now that it’s gone, everything feels a little empty, don’t you think?’

‘I see. Have you decided what you’re going to put up there?’

‘Yes. Actually, I brought it from home today.’

Ayane stood and went to fetch a large paper bag, bulging at the sides, that was resting in the corner.

‘What’s that?’ Kusanagi asked.

‘The tapestry that was hanging in my bedroom. I didn’t think I would need it there.’

‘Right,’ Kusanagi said, standing. ‘Let’s put it up then.’

Ayane reached into the bag, but then she stopped. ‘Wait,’ she said laughing. ‘I should probably let you ask your questions first. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?’

‘Oh,’ Kusanagi replied, ‘I’m happy to get to that afterwards.’

Ayane shook her head, a serious look on her face. ‘No, that won’t do. You came here for your work, and work should always come first.’

Kusanagi chuckled and pulled out his notepad. When he looked back up, her mouth was closed, lips tight.

‘Right, some questions then. I’m afraid these won’t be entirely pleasant, but I beg your cooperation.’

Ayane nodded.

‘We’ve uncovered the name of a woman your husband was seeing before he met you. Junko Tsukui. Ever heard that name?’

‘Tsukui … ?’

‘Yes, written like this,’ Kusanagi said. He jotted down the characters for the name on his notepad and showed it to her.

Ayane stared directly at him. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard the name.’

‘Did your husband ever tell you anything about a children’s book writer? Any little thing at all?’

‘A children’s book writer?’ Ayane frowned.

‘Yes, Junko Tsukui was a writer and an artist who did children’s picture books. Maybe your husband mentioned something about knowing an illustrator, something like that?’

Ayane glanced down at the table and took a sip of her tea. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last, ‘but I don’t remember him saying anything about children’s books or a children’s book illustrator. And I think I would remember if he had – illustrators weren’t exactly in his social circle.’

‘Right,’ Kusanagi said with a frown.

‘Does this ex-girlfriend have something to do with the case?’ Ayane asked.

‘That’s what we’re looking into.’

‘I see,’ she said, lowering her eyes. She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering.

‘Do you mind if I ask another question?’ Kusanagi said. ‘This isn’t something I would normally ask someone in your position, but given that those directly involved are no longer with us—’

‘Excuse me?’ She looked up. ‘Those?’

‘Yes. The woman I mentioned, Junko Tsukui, also passed away. Two years ago.’

Ayane’s eyes widened.

‘As you might’ve guessed from the difficulty we’ve been experiencing with our investigation, we found some evidence that your husband had concealed his relationship with Ms Tsukui. I was wondering, why do you think he did that? Did your husband ever make any attempt to conceal your relationship?’

Ayane held her teacup in both hands and thought for a moment. She was still thinking when she said, ‘My husband didn’t hide our relationship from people around us – Mr Ikai, his closest friend, was there when we met.’

‘Right, of course.’

‘That said,’ Ayane continued, ‘if Mr Ikai hadn’t been there when we met, it wouldn’t have surprised me if my husband had tried to keep our relationship secret.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because then he wouldn’t have to explain anything when we broke up.’

‘So you believe he was considering the possibility of breaking up from the start?’

‘I think he was considering the possibility that I couldn’t
bear children. He would have far preferred that I get pregnant before we married.’

‘But you did end up marrying before trying to conceive.’

Ayane smiled knowingly, a certain coyness in her eyes that Kusanagi hadn’t seen before. ‘There’s a simple reason for that,’ she said. ‘I didn’t let him. I insisted on contraception until we were legally married.’

‘I see. I wonder if there was no contraception involved in Tsukui’s case, then,’ the detective said, aware that he was crossing a line.

‘I’m guessing there wasn’t. Which is why he cut her off.’

‘Cut her off?’

‘Because she didn’t get pregnant according to his schedule,’ Ayane said, smiling as if they were chatting about the weather.

Kusanagi closed his notebook. ‘I see. Thank you.’

‘Is that all?’

‘That’s more than enough. I’m sorry if any of my questions seemed inappropriate.’

‘Nothing of the sort. I saw other men before meeting my husband, you know.’

‘I’m sure you did,’ he said, wincing almost as soon as he had said it, but Ayane only smiled.

‘Er, let me help you with that tapestry now,’ Kusanagi offered.

‘Right,’ Ayane said, once again going to the bag; but then she stopped. ‘Actually, maybe I’ll wait on this one after all.
I haven’t washed the wall yet. I’ll put it on myself once that’s done.’

‘Really? I think it would make a nice addition to the room. Let me know if you need any help when you do get around to it.’

Ayane thanked him, her head bowed.

After leaving Anne’s House, Kusanagi mulled over the questions he’d asked, Ayane’s responses, and his reaction to her responses. As he did so, he became aware of another voice in his head: Yukawa’s.

I don’t think you’re so weak a person as to let your feelings influence your detective work.

Kusanagi hoped his friend was right.

‘Next stop: Hiroshima …’

Utsumi heard the announcement over her music and pulled out her earphones, stashing her iPod in her travel bag. As the train began to slow she stood and made her way to the doors.

She checked the address in her notepad. Junko Tsukui’s family home was in Takayacho, a part of East Hiroshima. The nearest station was Nishi-Takaya. She had already called ahead to let Junko’s mother know she would be paying her a visit. The mother, Yoko Tsukui, had seemed a little flustered on the phone.
No doubt she’s wondering about all the sudden interest in a two-year-old suicide
.

At Hiroshima station, Utsumi picked up a bottle of mineral water at a kiosk, then hopped on the local train. Nishi-Takaya was nine stations down the San’yo Main Line, about a forty-minute ride, so she took her iPod back out and plugged in. She sat restlessly, listening to a Masaharu
Fukuyama album, drinking her water – soft water, according to the label. Yukawa had told her what cuisine that was best for, but she had already forgotten.

Thinking of water reminded her of Yukawa’s idea that the filtration system had been poisoned, and she began to wonder exactly what this trick was that the physicist was so reluctant to reveal. The trick was something theoretically possible, but extremely improbable – that was the first thing he had said. Then, after Utsumi had asked the questions he put her up to, his only comment had been, ‘Impossible.’

If she took his words at face value, this trick Yukawa had dreamed up must be pretty extraordinary, almost ridiculously so. Yet he seemed almost convinced that it had actually been used.

Still unwilling to disclose any details, the physicist gave Utsumi further instructions: first, they had to reexamine the water filtration system thoroughly, looking for anything out of the ordinary. In order to detect any trace amounts of poison, she sent the filter on to Spring-8. Yukawa even wanted to know the part number of the filter used.

Though results were still forthcoming from Spring-8, they had already learned some things. For one, Forensics assured them there was nothing unusual about the filtration system. The filter had an appropriate amount of crud in it for a year of use, and there was no sign that any adjustments or modifications had been made to any of the pieces. The part number of the filter checked out as well.