Hidden Nexus (47 page)

His colleagues nodded.

‘Next we have Fujiwara spotted leaving the apartment at around five o’clock or five-thirty was it. Now if he’s just killed Junko Iida I don’t think he would pass up the chance to lift an easy slice of cash. I bet he couldn’t believe his luck. So, as far as this story goes we have Fujiwara delighting in the fact that he suddenly has a whole load of cash, right?’

‘Right!’

‘Wrong! So how is it that a day later he’s killing himself and leaving a note saying that without money he was nothing. It doesn’t add up. Do you see my thinking?’

‘Quite clearly,’ replied Mori. ‘So what are you really saying?’

‘I’m saying that someone else killed Junko Iida. I’m saying that someone else killed her, took the money and then was interrupted by Fujiwara. That’s why the body was left where it was, unlike the Sanyoshinko victim, and that’s why the balcony window was unlocked. It’s my guess that our murderer escaped down there. I checked. It wouldn’t have been difficult to make your escape.’

‘And who are you suggesting has done all this?’

'Watanabe!'

'Watanabe?'

‘Who else has a motive for killing Junko Iida and Yamada Eri?’

‘And the Sanyoshinko victim?’

‘Probably some other unfortunate woman who’s received his favours and then threatened to blackmail him I wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘But aren’t you forgetting that Watanabe has an alibi for Thursday night?’

‘No I haven’t. We just need to double-check its voracity, that’s all. It’s not beyond him to get a colleague or two to vouch for him. Don’t forget there has undeniably been a cover–up at Watanabe faction head-quarters. That has all got to go into the mix. I'm now certain that Hiro Watanabe is our murderer! We can
stumble seven times, so long as we are steady on the eighth.' he finished off, placing his hands firmly on the table.

The other two looked blankly back at him.

‘But just a minute,’ said Sergeant Mori. ‘Isn’t it possible that Junko Iida put the money into her bank some time on Friday afternoon before she was killed?’

‘I checked that, too. No money has been left in any of her accounts.’

‘Okay…’ said Mori thinking. ‘Isn’t it just as likely that Fujiwara – acing under instructions kills Junko Iida and then returns the money back to Watanabe? That would seem quite likely to me.’

Inspector Saito slumped back in his chair feeling like a boxer who having laid the winning punch then trips over himself on his way back to his corner.

Thursday 6
^th
January 4:00pm

Watanabe hadn’t been so relaxed at the sumo tournament however that he’d been able to rid himself entirely of all the worrying thoughts that insisted in snaking through his mind. He may have won the battle but he was far from winning the war and the final piece of the strategy required the complete support of Ito san. He knew he could rely on her. He was comfortable in the knowledge that she would do whatever he said. The only problem was that he had utterly failed to have had any contact with her what-so-ever and without that contact their story could not be suitably fabricated. Added to this problem was that he’d stated to the faction that he had indisputable evidence concerning Mitsui’s fictitious betrayal. He needed to come up with something otherwise he was going to lose the entire hand.

It was then that his thoughts returned to Kinjo. It was precisely this sort of problem that he had employed Kinjo to sort out so successfully in the past. He hated to admit it but he was useless, no, that wasn’t quite true, he wasn’t completely useless, but he was pretty close to it, without him. Kinjo had the knack of anticipation and planning and of maintaining a cool hand. Perhaps he had been far too hasty in dismissing him.

He thought back over his rationale for his dismissal. Had he been foolish to take such a decision at a time when he’d been most hurt? Perhaps he had? Perhaps it was time now to welcome him back to the fold and to utilise his unique talents again.

In the break before the final top ranking wrestlers were due to fight
he decided to make the call.

‘Kinjo?’ he said.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s me!’

‘I know it is. What do you want?’

‘You’re back on the team. That is if you want.’

‘If I want?’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘Why the change of mind?’

‘I miss your skills and I’d rather have you pissing out of the
Onsen
than into it.’’

‘I see.’

‘So what about it?’

‘All forgiven?’

‘Not all – but let the water flow under the bridge. So you agree?’

‘I agree.’

‘You do need to confess to setting me up with the pay-off to Junko Iida, though.’

‘Consider it done, but I think you might have bigger problems than that? Mitsui is the least of your problems.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I think you’ve been a little foolish to have paid Junko Iida off and
then
disposed of her.’

‘What do you mean disposed off?’

‘I’d have thought you would know exactly what I mean! She’s dead of course! I think that was a grave error on your part.’

‘Dead! Are you sure!’

‘Of course I’m sure. It was a huge error on your part!’

‘Are you accusing me?’

‘I suppose I am, but don’t misunderstand me. If I am back on the team then it’s my job to assist you around this obstacle.’

‘You put it so delicately.’

‘But you do need to tell me the truth! If you ordered her death you need to tell me.’

‘I didn’t. I didn’t have anything to do with it – aside from the pay-off.’

‘Well somebody has seen to it!’

‘It has nothing to do with me. Mitsui maybe?’

‘Look! It’s best not to talk on the phone. We’ve probably said too much already. Let's meet.’

‘Yes. I need to and er… Kinjo-’

‘Yes?

‘I’m pleased we’re in tandem again. It’s been strange without you.’

He put the phone back in his pocket with mixed feelings. It was great to have Kinjo back securely in the fold, but this news about Junko Iida was deeply troubling. To put it mildly it was the last thing he needed.

However, Watanabe’s problems were about to deepen. He picked up a late edition of the paper and there coldly staring out at him was the dead face of Ito Harumi san.

Thursday 6
^th
January 4:00pm

It was precisely forty minutes after she’d left that Inspector Saito suddenly felt an awful clutching at the pit of his stomach. If asked to explain why he’d had such an ominous feeling he wouldn’t have been able to explain it, in the same way that he was really quite unable to explain how his thought processes could suddenly reach the conclusions that they had. But how could you explain those dramatic, penny-dropping moments except only in the way that a series of combination locks suddenly align at just the right moment to come to a release. Such a moment had clicked for Inspector Saito.

The seemingly irrational conclusion that Fujiwara could not be their man had certainly confounded Sergeant Mori and the illogical leap back to Watanabe seemed even more perplexing particularly as he seemed to have as water-tight an alibi as anyone for at least one of the nights in question – namely Thursday 30
^th
December.

The team had spent some time going over and over Inspector Saito’s line of thought. They had contacted Mitsui once more, who yet again confirmed his suspicions of Watanabe’s wrong doing as regards the pay-off to Junko Iida and the accusation of embezzlement which, as he had put the phone down, in Saito’s eyes gave Watanabe more motive indeed to pay her off, have her change her story and
then
to finally shut her up and reclaim the money back. That series of events certainly made sense to him.

It was this whole business of Watanabe’s alibi that he couldn’t get round and it was the one-liner that Mitsui had thrown back at him that had really got him thinking.

‘If you don’t believe me Kinjo will know, for sure. If you really need the inside track on Watanabe’s movements then Kinjo certainly is the man to ask.’

It had certainly seemed a sensible source of information to tap into.

Two things then happened that had then interfered with a successful conclusion to events.

Firstly the Chief Super had called Inspector Saito and Sergeant Mori into a ‘council of war’ meeting, the purpose of which was to establish all the information that they could concerning Sakamoto’s conduct of the Yamada investigation before the inevitable black suits from Tokyo descended. Saito knew that this was unlikely to be a quick meeting and suspected that it was one that was going to last long into the night. Mori had confirmed these suspicions, reminding him of the kind of meetings that had succeeded Saito’s own suspension three months previously.

Secondly Inspector Saito had taken the decision to dispatch
Junsa
Saito to do get what information she could glean from Kinjo.

And so it was, that sat in the meeting room, caught in the long-winded discussion surrounding suspension procedure and the gathering of pertinent evidence surrounding Sakamoto that Inspector Saito had found himself turning over in his mind recent events and actions.

It was then that suddenly the pit of his stomach had clenched tightly as the penny dropped and the horrible realisation dawned on him that he had made the most terrible of errors.

Thursday 6
^th
January 5:00pm

‘Come in, come in,’ Kinjo said warmly to a cold-looking
Junsa
Saito. ‘How can I help you?’

He invited her into his guest room immediately to the left. It was a traditional reception room with tatami-matting, shoji screen and
butsudan
.

She scanned Kinjo quickly. His ruddy face was the biggest, immediate impression. Other than that he looked fairly conventional, although her second impression lead her to conclude that this man had formidable self-belief and drive.

‘It’s about Watanabe san and his whereabouts last Thursday,’ she started as she then went on to outline what she wanted to know and why.

‘I suspect he was very busy. He always is.’

‘From six o’clock would be fine.’

‘From six? Let me see. I recall he had a series of discussions with interested patrons and supporters.’

‘Can you recall any specific names?’

‘No I can’t.’

‘Niigata Kyubin, Ozawa Kenji – the names don’t ring any bells?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Yamada Eri?’

Junsa
Saito was certain that he flinched.

‘I am of course aware that she is the woman who was murdered in Kamioka. Are you suggesting that she was at a meeting in our faction head-quarters on the night she died?’

‘I am.’

‘And…’

‘Where was Watanabe san between eight and ten? That’s what we really want to know?’

‘Eight and ten last Thursday!’ Kinjo stroked his chin. ‘I’m not sure-’

‘Do you normally accompany him to the meetings?’

‘Usually.’

‘But not last Thursday.’

‘No… no. I was engaged elsewhere.’

Junsa
Saito felt disappointed. ‘So you can’t confirm positively whether or not he was in the Diet building at that time?’

‘No I can’t.’

‘Pity.’

‘Anything else?

‘And last Friday afternoon? Would you have any idea what his movements were then?’

‘Is this to do with the murder of Junko Iida?’

‘Y-yes. Yes it is.’

For an instant a spark of adrenaline shot around her body and up her spine. It put all her senses on alert precisely because she wasn’t aware that details of Junko Iida’s death had been released to the public.

She did her best to remain calm. ‘You wouldn’t know his movements then… on Friday afternoon?’

‘No… No, I wouldn’t. He released me from his services that morning,’ Kinjo replied slowly. His voice had suddenly hardened. ‘Do you mind if I get myself a drink?’ he then asked, although he didn’t wait for her to reply. He stood up and exited the room.
Junsa
Saito watched him go, suddenly convinced that she had seen the man before – that same body shape, that same movement.

Like Inspector Saito, sitting in a room far away the realisation of whom she might be talking to grabbed her violently.

Kinjo too, had recognised the sudden shock within her eyes and this had had nothing to do with the information he was supplying her about Watanabe. He realised too, his error in admitting his knowledge of the Junko Iida murder.

There really now was only one way out of this position.

He made his way to the hallway where on a series of hooks hung coats, hats and a tie – a very special tie that he had draped innocently over one of the lower hooks. He removed it from its hanging place, wrapped it securely around both knuckles and then marched back into the room.

Junsa
Saito was sat with her back to the sliding door, but non-the-less she was alert to the noises without and the rapid movement of feet were not those of a man returning with a drink. The rush of air, the swish of movement were clues enough for her to know that she was in extreme danger.

Despite these thoughts Kinjo was onto her before she could react. She felt the tight grip of material around her neck and the force of his strength pulling upon it. She did her best to execute the moves she had so successfully managed in the attack by Sakamoto. She thrust her elbows back hoping to expertly dig into his sides hoping that he would release his grip. She did what she could but Kinjo was equal to it. He maintained his grip on the ligature which in turn continued to tighten around her throat. Once more she did what she could to reach behind her to grab at him – anything, his hair, his arms… anything.

Sadly she failed.

She felt herself becoming faint. She felt herself losing the battle.