The Devotion Of Suspect X (33 page)

“Something I said?”

“Remember what Ishigami told you about his method of designing mathematics exams? About coming at the test-taker from a blind spot created by their own assumptions? Like making an algebra problem look like a geometry problem?”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“It’s the same pattern. He made a trick body look like a trick alibi.”

Kusanagi had practically yelped.

“Remember afterward, when you showed me Ishigami’s work schedule from his school? He’d taken the morning of the tenth as well as the morning of the eleventh off from work. That’s what tipped me off to the fact that the incident Ishigami really wanted to hide had taken place not the night of the tenth, but the night of the ninth.”

That incident was the murder of Shinji Togashi at the hands of Yasuko Hanaoka.

Everything Yukawa had said fit the case precisely. In fact, everything the physicist had been obsessing over—from the stolen bicycle to the half-burned clothes—had turned out to be vital pieces of the puzzle. Kusanagi had to admit that he, along with every other detective that had looked into the case, had been caught in a labyrinth of Ishigami’s design.

Yet it all still seemed too unreal to be true. Killing a person to hide a murder—who would think of something like that?
Of course, that’s the point. He didn’t want us to think of it.

“There’s another side to his setup,” Yukawa said then, as though he could read Kusanagi’s thoughts. “Ishigami planned to turn himself in in Yasuko’s place should things fall apart. But if he were really taking her place of his own free will, there was always the danger that his resolve might waver. He might even break under repeated police questioning and cough up the truth. I doubt he feels any such threat to his resolve now, though. All he has to do is claim that he was the killer, which, of course, is quite true. He is a murderer, and deserves to be in prison. In exchange for paying his debt to society, he gets to protect, utterly and forever, the person whom he loves with all his heart.”

“So when did Ishigami realize the jig was up?”

“I told him as much, in a way that only he would understand. What I told you earlier, about there being no useless cog in our society—how only a cog can determine how it is used—you know what I meant by that, don’t you?”

“You’re talking about our nameless victim Ishigami used as the final piece in his puzzle.”

“What Ishigami did is unforgivable. He
should
have turned himself in. And that was why I talked to him about the cogs. I just didn’t guess he would go about it in quite the way he did. To protect her by making himself out to be a stalker—that was when I realized how deep his plan went.”

“So where is Shinji Togashi’s body?”

“I have no idea. Ishigami must have disposed of it in some fashion. Perhaps some prefectural police department has found him already, or maybe they haven’t.”

“Prefectural? You mean somewhere outside of our jurisdiction?”

“He would avoid this area, yes. He didn’t want the murder of Shinji Togashi being linked to his own crime if he could possibly avoid it.”

“So that’s why you were looking at newspapers in the library. You were checking to see if another unidentified body had been found.”

“And I found nothing where the corpse matched Togashi’s description. Though I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later. I doubt he was all that thorough in hiding it. There would be no danger of
that
body being identified as Shinji Togashi, after all.”

“Well, I’d better start looking then,” Kusanagi said, but Yukawa shook his head.

“You promised. Remember? I’ve been talking to you as a friend, not a detective. If you choose to act on this information in your official capacity, then that’s all we are. A detective and his informant.”

Yukawa’s eyes were dead serious.
No arguing with him.

“I’m going to throw the ball in her court. See what she does,” Yukawa had said then, pointing toward Benten-tei. “I seriously doubt she knows the truth of what happened. She doesn’t know the sacrifice Ishigami’s made. I’ll tell her. Wait and see what she decides to do. I’m sure Ishigami wants her to be happily ignorant of everything. But I cannot stand for that. I think she needs to know.”

“And you think she’ll turn herself in when she hears what you have to say?”

“No idea. I don’t really think she should turn herself in, myself, given the circumstances. When I think of what Ishigami would want, I’m inclined to say she should go free.”

“Well, if Yasuko Hanaoka doesn’t eventually turn herself in, I’m going to have to start a new investigation. Even if it means the end of our friendship.”

“I understand.”

So Kusanagi had stood there, smoking cigarette after cigarette, watching his friend talk to Yasuko Hanaoka. Now Yasuko’s head was slumped forward. She barely shifted on the bench during the whole time Yukawa spoke to her. Now the physicist’s lips were moving, but his expression never changed. Still, Kusanagi could feel the tension in the air around the two of them even from where he was standing at the entrance to the park.

At last Yukawa stood up from the bench. He bowed curtly in Yasuko’s direction, then walked toward the detective. Yasuko remained sitting on the bench, slumped half over, unmoving.

“Thanks for waiting,” Yukawa said.

“You tell her everything?”

“Yep.”

“She say what she’s going to do?”

“No. It was pretty much just me talking. I didn’t ask what she was going to do, nor did I tell her what she ought to do. It’s up to her now.”

“Well, like I said before, if she doesn’t turn herself in—”

“I know,” Yukawa said as he began to walk away. Kusanagi walked with him, matching his stride. “You don’t have to say it. More importantly, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“You want to see Ishigami?”

Yukawa’s eyes opened a little wider at that. “How’d you guess?”

“How long have we been friends?”

“Oh, quite some time.” Yukawa shook his head, a lonely smile on his lips. “Quite some time.”

Yasuko sat motionless on the bench. She felt the weight of everything she’d been told like a physical sensation, heavier than she could imagine, so heavy it shocked every inch of her body. So heavy it felt like it might crush her heart.

How could he go so far?

Ishigami had never told her what he’d done with Togashi’s body. He had said she didn’t need to worry about it.
I’ve handled everything,
he had told her over the phone in that calm voice of his.

She had wondered why the police kept wanting an alibi for the day
after
Togashi was murdered. Even before the detectives had come, Ishigami had given her explicit instructions about what she was to do on the night of the tenth. The movie, ramen, karaoke, and even the late-night telephone call. She had done everything according to his instructions, not knowing why she was doing any of it. When the detectives asked about her alibi, she had told them exactly what she had done, but in truth she had wanted to ask them:
why are you asking me about the tenth?

Now it all made sense. Ishigami had led them into a trap. And yet, what a terrible trap it was. Even though she realized that there could be no other explanation, she still didn’t believe it. No, she didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to think Ishigami had done what he had done. She didn’t want to think about how he had thrown away his life for an average middle-aged woman with hardly any redeeming qualities, and certainly no great allure. Yasuko didn’t think her heart was strong enough to accept such a sacrifice.

She covered her face in her hands. She wished her mind could stop working. She didn’t want to think about anything. Yukawa had said he wouldn’t tell the police. It was all conjecture—he didn’t have any proof. It was up to her to decide what was to be done. He had given her a choice. A spitefully cruel choice.

Uncertain of what she should do, and lacking even the strength to stand, she crouched, frozen like a twisted stone, while the long minutes crawled by.

Suddenly someone tapped her on the shoulder. Her head jerked upward.

Someone was standing by the bench. Her eyes focused and she realized it was Kudo looking down at her, concern on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

It took her a while to understand why Kudo was there. She stared blankly up at him for some time before she remembered that they’d planned to meet. He must have come looking for her when she wasn’t at the restaurant.

“I’m sorry. I was … tired.” She couldn’t think of a better excuse than that. And it was true. She was exhausted. Not her body, but her soul.

“Are you sick?” Kudo’s voice was gentle.

Too gentle, to Yasuko’s ears, and entirely out of place. Not knowing the truth could be a crime in and of itself, she realized. A crime she had been committing until only moments before.

“I’m … all right.” Hesitantly Yasuko stood. She wobbled, and Kudo offered his arm.

“Did something happen? You look pale.”

Yasuko shook her head. She couldn’t explain what had happened. Not to him. Not to anyone.

“It’s nothing. I felt a little queasy and had to rest. But I think it’s passed now.” She tried to sound confident, but lacked the strength.

“My car is parked right over there. Do you want to rest a bit first before we go?”

She met his eyes. “Go where?”

“I’ve made reservations at a restaurant. I told them seven, but I don’t think it will matter if we’re a half hour late.”

“Oh.”

The very word
restaurant
sounded like something alien. Would she have to go to a restaurant and eat now? Would she have to pretend to smile with this black lump in her chest? Smile, and nod, and daintily wield her fork and knife? Not that any of this was Kudo’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” Yasuko whispered. “I don’t think I can. Not tonight. I think I need to take a rain check until I’m feeling better. Today I am … I’m just…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kudo said, patting her arm. “I think you’re right. It’s no wonder you’re tired, with all you’ve been through. Rest today. You probably haven’t had a chance to really rest for some time. I should have left you alone. It was thoughtless of me. I’m sorry.”

Yasuko looked at Kudo, marveling at how genuinely nice he was. He truly cared for her. It made her sad to wonder why she couldn’t be happy with so much love to be had.

She walked beside him, his hand resting lightly against her back. His car was parked a short distance down the road. When they reached it, he offered to drive her home. She knew she should refuse, but decided to let him do so anyway. The trip back to her apartment felt like it was an impossibly long distance to travel alone.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kudo asked again as they got into the car. “If something has happened, don’t feel you need to hide it from me.”

It’s no wonder he’s worried,
she thought,
with the way I must look right now
. “No, I’m okay, really. I’m sorry.” She smiled at him, a performance that took all of her remaining strength.

She
was
sorry, in so many ways. And it reminded her that Kudo had a reason for coming to meet her today.

“Kudo—you said you had something important to discuss with me?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He looked down. “Well, maybe today isn’t the best time.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He started the car.

Yasuko let the motion of the vehicle rock her gently in her seat as she stared out the window. The sun had set. Night had come to the city.
How easy it would be if everything went dark, and the world ended right here, right now. What a relief it would be.

Kudo’s car stopped in front of Yasuko’s apartment building. “Rest up. I’ll call.”

She nodded, and laid her hand on the door handle; but as she began to open the door Kudo blurted out, “Wait—”

Yasuko turned back to look at him. He wet his lips and slapped his hands down on the steering wheel. “Maybe now is a good time, after all.” Kudo slid one hand into his suit pocket and pulled out a small blue jewelry case. Yasuko knew what it meant at a glance.

“They have scenes like this all the time on those television shows, so it feels kind of cheesy now, but I suppose it’s the accepted ritual, so—” He opened the box in front of her. It held a ring. A large diamond caught the rays of the fading day and sent shimmers in every direction.

“Kudo…” Yasuko’s mouth hung open; she stared amazedly into Kudo’s face.

“Don’t feel you have to give me an answer right away,” he said. “There’re Misato’s feelings to consider, not to mention yours! I just want you to know that I’m not doing this on a whim. I know I can make you happy, both of you.” He took Yasuko’s hand and placed the box in it. “Take this, but don’t let it be a burden. This is just a present. If you should decide you would like to live with me, then the ring will mean what it is intended to mean. Please, think about it.”

Feeling the weight of the small case in her hand, Yasuko’s mind went blank. She only heard half of what he was saying. Still she understood—which only fueled her confusion.

“Sorry. I know it’s sudden.” Kudo grinned sheepishly. “You really don’t have to rush your response. I do want you to talk to Misato, too.” He reached out and closed the lid of the case in her hand. “There.”

Yasuko couldn’t think of what to say. Words seemed almost inaccessible. There were too many images racing through her head. Pictures of Kudo, and Togashi, and Ishigami—mostly Ishigami.

“I … I’ll think about it,” she managed at last.

Kudo nodded, apparently satisfied. Yasuko smiled back and got out of the car.

She watched as he drove off, then went up to her apartment. As she was opening the door, her eyes were inevitably drawn to the next door down the hall. The mail slot there was overflowing with letters, but there was no newspaper. Ishigami must have canceled his subscriptions before turning himself in. He had probably done it automatically, a common courtesy with no more significance for him then the act of waking up in the morning. She stepped inside.