Six Four (58 page)

Ishii was right. Exactly right. There was no way Commissioner Kozuka could come, not now.

They were in the midst of a brand-new kidnapping. To imagine the commissioner walking into this chaos to inspect a kidnapping from fourteen years earlier . . . Mikami couldn’t think of anything more absurd. What would he do, then? Would he force through the inspection, anyway, but reframe it as a visit to the front lines? Or would he use the kidnapping as an excuse to seize control? Would he arrive with a team from the bureau to lead the Investigative HQ, parade NPA leadership as established fact? No, it was too risky. If the kidnapper were to escape, it would be the same as entering into a suicide pact with the Prefectural HQ. They would lose face before the nation and never be able to bring up sequestration again. The visit would be postponed or cancelled outright. As of now – unless the kidnapping was solved straight away – the visit would not be going ahead.

There was no great impact. Mikami’s emotional dial registered no disappointment, no sense of comfort; no exhilaration. All he was left to do was contemplate the irony, almost predestined, of the outcome.
The spectre of Six Four ending the Six Four inspection.
The prefecture had become Dallas after all, but because of
Sato
, not because of the Prefectural HQ or Criminal Investigations.

‘Is that enough for now?’ Mikura sounded impatient.

Mikami examined the man again. He looked into his eyes, trying to see right through them. Still an ant, but a confident ant.
That had been the impression from the start. Mikura’s composure made it hard to imagine that he had, only three and a half hours earlier, been appointed as one of the lead investigators in a kidnapping case, even though it might turn out to be a hoax.
They saw it as a lucky break
– the idea was repugnant but it was there, regardless. The kidnapping had saved Criminal Investigations from the commissioner’s visit.

‘Well, if you don’t have any more questions, I’ll—’

‘Of course I’ve got more bloody questions. My information is three and a half hours out of date,’ Mikami said, abandoning decorum as he opened his notebook again. ‘Come on, then . . . the girl’s mother tried calling her daughter on her mobile. What happened next?’

‘She couldn’t get through.’

‘That’s still the case?’

‘Yes. There’s no signal from the phone at all; the battery’s probably been taken out.’

‘Who’s the provider?’

‘DoCoMo.’

‘Have you been able to contact any of her friends?’

‘Her parents don’t even know their surnames, so . . .’

Mikami flipped a page. ‘So they did a bad job of raising her?’

‘They smothered her. It seems her delinquency probably resulted from their excessive interference, when she was in primary and secondary school.’

‘Whose opinion is that?’

‘A city counsellor. One her parents took her to see once.’

Mikami felt a throbbing in his ear.

‘Why did she go home two nights ago?’

‘To pick up some clothes.’

‘How was she acting? Anything out of the ordinary?’

‘She didn’t say anything, although for her that’s apparently normal.’

Mikami turned to a new page.

‘What about warnings, of the kidnapping?’

‘They had some silent calls.’

The throbbing again.

‘How many?’

‘Not sure. We’re still getting information from the parents.’

‘When did they get the calls?’

‘Around ten days ago.’

‘And the number?’

‘Hmm?’

‘They’ve got caller display, right?’

‘Ah, yes. They said the call was made from a phone box.’

Mikami felt a door creak open in his mind. He was letting his emotions get in the way.

‘Anything else of note?’

‘The girl’s mother said she saw a black van she didn’t recognize parked near the house.’

‘When was that?’

‘Three, maybe four days ago.’

‘Could they think of anyone who might bear them a grudge?’

‘They didn’t think so.’

‘What about the phone? Were there any reports of it being lost?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘From the girl. Maybe at a
koban
?’

‘Oh, we haven’t asked that. Still, if she had, this wouldn’t be a kidnapping—’

‘Have you asked the
koban
to report in?’

‘Well, no, we—’

‘You need to do that. Not just for phones – there’s a chance it came in as a bag.’

Mikura gave him a perfunctory, uninterested nod.

Mikami turned a page and continued.

‘When did the Home Unit get there? How many officers?’

‘I don’t know the exact time. Five officers.’

‘Did you get the second call on tape?’

‘We didn’t get there in time.’

‘What area was the kidnapper calling from?’

‘Uh . . .?’

‘I’m asking which base station picked up the outgoing signal? You have a three-kilometre radius around the station. You have checked with DoCoMo, right?’

‘All I know is that the call originated inside the prefecture.’

He’d dodged the answer. Was he hiding something?

‘Find out and let me know.’

‘Okay, I’ll ask.’

‘Her father is self-employed; what kind of business is it?’

‘Telling you that would give away their identity.’

‘Okay, so a business with few competitors. Some kind of store?’

‘I suppose, yes, that’s right.’

‘Based?’

‘In Genbu, in the city.’

‘Are they well off?’

‘They said they could just about put the ransom together.’

‘Does the girl have any other siblings?’

‘Yes, a younger sister.’

‘How old?’

‘Eleven. Year six in primary school.’

‘Year six . . .’

Mikami stopped writing. The kidnapper had chosen the elder, not the younger of the two.

‘Exactly – that’s one of the reasons we thought it might be the girl’s own doing.’ There was something like pride in his voice.

‘Maybe the kidnapper was poorly organized. Maybe the crime was sexually motivated at first. Maybe the kidnapper was someone she knew. Surely there are lots of possible interpretations?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose.’

Mikura was acting disinterested, just as he had when Mikami had asked about the lost-property reports. Something was wrong.
The kidnapping had only just taken place. In light of that, weren’t they putting far too much emphasis on the idea that it was a hoax? Was that why Mikura’s statements lacked any sense of urgency?

Maybe there was more. Maybe they had evidence, something decisive enough to convince the Investigative HQ that the case was a hoax. It would make sense then. It was possible Mikura’s self-possession stemmed not from the cancellation of the commissioner’s visit but from the optimism he had regarding the case.

Mikami closed his notebook.

‘Why are you keeping Admin out of this?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘In the assembly hall I saw management from Security, Community Safety, even Transport. Why were you so quick to bring them in, yet kept us out for three and a half hours?’

‘It’s just a matter of priority,’ Mikura answered, with no hesitation. ‘We would need to dispatch the riot squad for the search if any of the girl’s things were found. Transport can pretend to be pest control while carrying out number plate checks, collecting fingerprints. Community Safety can—’

‘What about Logistics?’ Mikami asked, cutting him off. ‘I’m pretty sure the first thing you need to establish an Investigative HQ is a budget and equipment.’

‘We didn’t think of it straight away. But that can be fixed retrospectively, unlike the investigation.’

‘What about PR, can that be fixed retrospectively? Didn’t you see a problem in delaying things with the press? Did Arakida tell you it was fine?’

‘That’s . . .’

Mikura hesitated. Mikami’d hit the mark.

‘You kept us out deliberately. That’s it, isn’t it?’

‘No, that’s not—’

‘How long were you planning to keep us out, if I hadn’t shown up?’

Mikura fell silent.

‘Do you understand what you’ve done? A high-school girl is missing. Her parents received calls from someone purporting to be her kidnapper. Yet your mind was on something
other
than the case. This is a sham. You let an internal struggle influence the investigation of a kidnapping. No – you
used
the kidnapping . . . as retaliation against Tokyo? As a warning? Insurance? How could you support something so reprehensible?’

‘You’re the sham.’

Mikami ignored him and carried on. ‘You know it’s a hoax. That’s why you’re reacting this way.’

‘We know nothing of the sort. It’s possible it’s a hoax, that’s all. Our focus is on bringing the kidnapper to justice. You’re being paranoid if you think we’re shutting you out. You’re only making the accusation because you’re feeling slighted.’

‘If that’s true, why keep her identity secret?’

‘I already told you. For as long as the chance exists, however remote, that this is a teenager’s hoax—’

‘I don’t mean from the press! I’m asking you why you’re keeping their identities secret from Admin.’

Mikami’s phone started to vibrate across the top of the desk. Keeping his gaze locked on Mikura, he reached to pick it up. It was Kuramae.

‘Sir, I managed to discover Chief Matsuoka’s whereabouts. He went to Station G in one of the enforcement vehicles.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Ah, yes. Five or six phones started ringing together so I answered one without thinking . . . anyway, it was from Station G.’

‘Okay, good work. Go back to the office and chase it up with Suwa.’

Mikami ended the call. Mikura looked as though his response was ready.

‘Go on, then.’

‘We no longer feel able to share important information with Admin. You sold us out to Tokyo.’

‘Yeah, and I’m sick of hearing that. If you insist this isn’t all a sham, give me the identity of the girl and the family.’

Mikura let out a shallow sigh, then added coolly, ‘This isn’t Admin’s business. Nobody needs to know, ever.’

Mikami felt his head pitch.
The true essence of the police. Utterly self-contained.
Mikami had shared the same opinion. In his many years working as a detective, he’d taken this kind of exclusion as a matter of course. But . . .

Now a part of him saw things from the outside.

This isn’t Admin’s business.

Nobody needs to know, ever.

He could already see how a reporter would respond.

A, self-employed. B . . . C . . .
How can we be sure they even
exist
?

The dust was swirling, getting into Mikami’s eyes.

He got into his car, rubbing them as he checked the digital display. Three fifteen. He took out his mobile and called Media Relations. The moment it connected, his ears were subjected to a barrage of noise. Angry shouts, hurled back and forth.
You think this is some kind of joke? Give us their names! Was everything you said a plain lie?
The reporters were irate, and Suwa was taking the fire. Mikami got a vivid sense of how close they were.

Mikumo had answered the call. He heard a female voice.

‘Can you hear this?’

‘Hello? Can you hear me?’

‘Have all of the papers been notified?’

‘Sorry, sir, I can’t really hear . . .’

Mikami raised his voice. ‘Is the provisional agreement in effect?’

‘Ah, yes . . .’ There was a rustling; the din quietened a little. It sounded like Mikumo had ducked under her desk. ‘Yes, it is. But a lot of the papers are refusing to comply unless we give them the names. They’re threatening to send reporters into Genbu.’

‘The agreement is still binding, however temporary. Make sure they don’t go against it.’

‘They’re saying after three and a half hours it’s too late. One said they already had someone in Station G earlier today, to cover an accident; now they intend to send someone else.’

‘You can’t let them. Tell them they’re not to go anywhere near Station G. If they do, they’re in direct violation.’

‘Kuramae’s trying to talk them down. He’s telling them it’s a possible hoax, that that’s what’s delaying the release. They’re not listening, though. They’re really worked—’

‘I’ve got another report. Can you take this down?’

‘Sure, one second.’ The level of noise jumped sharply, then became muffled again. ‘Okay, go ahead.’

Mikami read out Mikura’s additional information. His ears picked up on the jeering between each sentence.
Where’s your boss now? Get him here, this instant!
His absence was fuel to their fire.

‘That’s everything. Hand the notes to Suwa.’

‘Sir . . . do you have the girl’s name?’

‘Not yet.’

Silence.

Her dismay was evident even on the phone. She could probably see that Suwa was close to breaking.

‘Tell him to hold on.’

‘Are you coming back?’

‘I have to go to Station G. Let Suwa know, but be quiet about it.’

‘When will you be back?’ Her voice sounded desperate, but he knew he couldn’t answer, as things were. He had no guarantee he’d even be able to meet with Matsuoka. ‘Just an estimate. Can you say roughly when—’

‘Tell Kuramae to go to Supplies in the Prefectural Government.’

‘Sorry, where?’

‘There’s a conference room on the fifth floor of the west wing, it’s got a capacity of over three hundred people. We need to use it for the press conference. For now, he can tell Supplies it’s for an important case. We’ll need space in the underground parking area, too, enough for all the press from Tokyo and neighbouring prefectures.’

‘Okay, I’ll pass on the message. Can I help?’

‘Make sure the press understand what they
can’t
do. Get them to call their head offices in Tokyo. They can’t use vehicles with
their names on, or any kind of logo. They have to conceal the radio antennas on their broadcast vans. Tell them they aren’t – under any circumstances – to go anywhere near Genbu. Also that there’s a strict ban on parking in the Prefectural HQ. They aren’t to do anything to give themselves away en route, and they have to use the underground car park at the Prefectural Government. From there, they need to use the goods lift and move quietly to the fifth floor.’