Nocturne of Remembrance (24 page)

“It was fairly deep. Do you want to examine it? Your métier, isn’t it?”

Discerning a slight hint of fragility in Mikoshiba’s voice, Misaki thought,
Huh, even a guy like him has his bugbears
. And with that, he took a deeper interest in the man. Half of it was a professional desire to scout out his enemy, but the other half was personal curiosity.

“At any rate, your counterarguments never fail to impress,” praised Misaki. “Now I understand why clients pay you huge fees. Where did you learn to trade blows like some street fighter?”

“… Is this an interrogation?”

“We’re just chatting. No law saying a prosecutor can’t have a nice chat with the defense attorney.”

“No law saying we need to.”

“There! That comeback. I really want to know where you picked it up.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll send our legal apprentices and assistance judges there.”

Mikoshiba suddenly bent down over the table. Misaki wondered what the matter was, then realized that the man was trying, but failing, not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Impossible …” Mikoshiba was laughing so hard that his reply came in bits. “Sorry, it’s impossible, for you people.”

“Why so sure?”

“You don’t know bad guys.”

“We do. We confront them every day.”

“No, that’s not knowing them. You just see them. Like some kid peering down at a creature swimming in the mud. If you really want to learn their ways, you have to jump into the mud. Unless you swim with them, swallow the muck with them, and breathe the same dark slime, it’s pointless.”

Mikoshiba went on laughing. The man’s clientele featured many criminals, including gangsters, who slapped people with wads of banknotes. So you couldn’t really know them if you didn’t cozy up to them until your hearts beat as one? Assuming that was what Mikoshiba meant, Misaki changed the topic.

“Do you have a family?”

“A lawyer doesn’t need one. Why do you ask?”

“Well. I just thought you might have special feelings for that family, or families in general.”

“Merely a client.”

“But isn’t it widely rumored that most of yours are wealthy individuals?”

When Mikoshiba gave a stare, his lips still curled, Misaki asked, “Did I say something funny again?”

“You must be the fourth one. People involved in this case keep saying that.”

“It’s only natural if they’ve heard tell of your practice. If I may, the defense has nothing going for it in this case. Even if you demonstrate your remarkable debating skills, the best you’ll achieve is a reduced sentence. It’s different when the defendant is a celebrity, but the PR effect won’t be large with an ordinary citizen. However I look at it, it’s all pain and no gain.”

“Prosecutor Misaki. Have you ever dealt with cases related to stocks?”

“Not a few. Felt like it was all I did after the economic bubble burst.”

“Then you must have heard this maxim along the way. ‘Behind
where others go is a road and a mountain of flowers.’ ”

It meant that walking a different route was the key to success, or some such thing. “Okay. But what on earth about this case is a mountain of flowers?”

“The moment I divulge that, the back road will be a mountain of people.”

With that, Mikoshiba shut his mouth. He seemed unlikely to cough up anything more.

Fine. I’ll work a different angle
. “By the way, have you ever heard about the Shimane Bar Association?”

“Shimane?” It was a sparsely populated prefecture in western Japan.

“I’m not sure about now, but they had extremely few lawyers in the past. There was a time when Saigo on Oki Island didn’t even have one. The Saigo branch of the Matsue District Court also didn’t have a judge. Once a trial started there, the defense attorney, the prosecutor, and the judge all had to travel to the district court on Oki. The only means of transportation was a single ferry departing from the fishing port of Shichirui. The trio would meet face to face on the cramped vessel. And if the trial dragged on, they’d have to make the long journey again. So they used to hold simple trials aboard the tub. By the time the party arrived at the district court, they knew how it was going to end.”

“In other words, collusion in the legal profession.”

“That’s a bit too harsh. There’s that aphorism. The most capable attorneys don’t sue but settle.”

“Nowadays we have an oversupply of lawyers. Moreover, we’re in Tokyo and this is a criminal case. Why the nostalgic episode?”

“I would like to eliminate waste as much as possible. If you really have something that can reduce Akiko Tsuda’s sentence, so be it … But if that was just a bluff, count me out. The prosecution is just as busy as you, with piles of other cases waiting for us.”

Of course, this was a lie.

Humans were strange creatures. Talking at length made them
loosen their collars even if they’d been at each other’s throats just a moment ago. It was a way into people’s hearts that Misaki had mastered all on his own after becoming a prosecutor, but it did wonders with suspects and their attorneys. Perhaps because the title of prosecutor and his demeanor made them fear a hard-nosed style, once he started just yapping with them, they quickly opened up.

He didn’t really think it would work on Mikoshiba. But if it did, great; if not, it didn’t hurt Misaki one bit.

Mikoshiba’s reaction, however, was totally unexpected. “In that case, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want to waste time, either. My hourly rate is higher than a civil servant’s.”

So this case, too, was all about money for him after all—convinced, Misaki nodded. “Then let me ask you straight off. What’s this stuff that you’re hiding? Does it even exist?”

Mikoshiba responded with a faint smile as he masticated his last slice of sashimi. He had been moving his chopsticks mechanically all throughout their conversation, much to Misaki’s surprise. “Prosecutor, I think the rule is to show your card first before asking me to show mine.”

“Show mine? What would that be?”

“You. You must have pored over the precinct’s investigation records. Probably criticizing their sloppy initial investigation point by point.”

That was true, but Misaki kept silent.

“So I’d like to ask you. Is the confiscated evidence still being stored?”

“Yes. It will stay in the jurisdiction’s warehouse until the trial is over.”

“The box cutter used as the murder weapon, the blue tarp. That’s not all. All the trash—from the bathroom where the murder was committed, from the living room, the kitchen, the bedrooms, the floors, the walls, the trash cans. The books on the shelves, the soil in the potted plants. Have you checked them all?”

Misaki ran over the contents of the investigation report mentally. He remembered them in detail because he’d examined them with his eyes peeled. He’d had all of the potentially important evidence sent over to the crime lab, of course, but it wasn’t each and every accouterment.

“When the local police arrived,” Mikoshiba continued, “the body, the criminal, and an eyewitness were there on a platter. A forensics team must have also come, but with everything in place like that, their work would have been perfunctory. I bet they didn’t examine everything. A capable investigator’s zeal is in direct proportion to the challenge at hand.”

“What on earth have you latched on to?”

“You don’t expect me to reveal that much, do you? I’ve practically shown my whole hand already.” Mikoshiba stood up holding his lunch plate, which was clean empty. “Let me assure you that I’m not bluffing. It’s like preaching to the Buddha, but everything you need was at the scene. As long as it isn’t discarded or destroyed, the evidence sits silently waiting for the limelight. Do guard it with your life.”

With that, Mikoshiba left without even uttering a word of parting, and Misaki sat alone with the set lunch he hadn’t even touched yet.

—
4
—

When Mikoshiba left the Tokyo High Court and visited the Tsuda residence, the one who appeared at the door was Yozo.

“Ah, sensei. Back from court? Thank you for your efforts.”

“You knew the date of the session?”

“Of course. If I could get a seat, I would have absolutely been there …”

Come to think of it, the visitors’ gallery had indeed been full. However, it wasn’t because Akiko’s case was attracting attention. Recently, observing trials had become a sort of fad, and apparently most criminal cases got full houses. Some of the visitors took notes
or drew sketches, but it was all a bad joke for Mikoshiba. Mere rubberneckers were flattering themselves that they were fashionable or intellectually curious.

“How is the trial going?” Yozo asked, gauging Mikoshiba’s expression, but unfortunately there was nothing to report that might please the old man.

“They won’t let us win easily. The prosecution submitted Shingo’s loan status as a supplemental factor regarding her motive. The situation has worsened for us.”

“That good-for-nothing! Causing us problems even after he died.”

“But we haven’t run out of options yet.”

“Are you sure?”

“I came here today for additional research.”

Even before Mikoshiba could finish speaking, a voice came down from the upper floor.

“Sis! Sis!” It was Rinko’s.

When Mikoshiba cast a dubious look at Yozo, the old man shook his head weakly. “Miyuki’s condition has deteriorated again … She leaves more than half of her meals, and I was told that this morning she vomited an awful lot. I just arrived, too, after Rinko called.”

“Sis!” the girl kept hollering.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Mikoshiba entered the house and headed to the stairs, and Yozo followed him. On the second floor, Rinko stood in front of Miyuki’s room.

“Ah, sensei!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I told her to let’s go see a doctor if she’s not feeling well, but she won’t listen.”

“Miyuki. This is Mikoshiba, the lawyer. Can we talk now?”

There was no answer from the room. Mikoshiba tried turning the knob, but the door was locked on the inside. He called to her several more times but there was no answer, so the three of them went down
to the first floor.

“Has she been that way for some time?”

“Yes,” replied Yozo, furrowing his brow. “Even when I call to her from across the door, she won’t come out. Her body must not be accepting any food. But perhaps it’s only natural when her mother stabbed her father to death. That’s nothing but a nightmare for a girl her age. Food refusal will result from such a mental blow.”

“Anyhow, it would be best to have her examined.” Mikoshiba looked over at Rinko, but she didn’t look as peppy as usual, more like a withered flower. No good could come from bringing it up now, but he opened his mouth against his better judgment. “I investigated the hospital records. You were beaten by your father, too, huh?”

Rinko nodded silently.

“And your sister? Not so badly that she needed to see a doctor?”

“Papa didn’t beat her. And sis used to say that she felt sorry for Papa.”

“I heard that she threw up.”

“… Yeah.”

“Who cleaned it up?”

“Rinko did. I’m in charge of cleaning, too.”

Indeed, when Mikoshiba looked around, he didn’t see dust or hair to speak of on the living-room floor or in the kitchen. “You clean the whole house?”

“Yup. Instead of Mommy. But I leave Papa’s room as it is.”

“Why?”

“Mommy never went in there, either …”

“Ah, you did right.”

“Huh?”

“It means that the room hasn’t been cleaned at all since what happened. The police might come again and take away everything in it down to the tiniest speck of dust, so not cleaning it was just perfect.”

Yozo didn’t try to hide his displeasure. “They’re coming here again? Aren’t they done with their forensics? If they rummage around in the
house, how do you think Miyuki will take it?”

“I recommend that she be hospitalized, even if only for a short period. I understand her not feeling like going out, but staying here is having an adverse effect on her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The atrocity occurred in this house. For her, it must be a place saturated with gross memories.”

Phew
, Yozo sighed from his gut. “You might be right. I could take Rinko to my place.”

“Oh, then may I have your contact info, if you don’t mind? Just your cell phone number would be fine.” Mikoshiba handed over his business card and a pen to Yozo.

“Sensei, big sis shouldn’t stay home?”

“For now, no. This house is breeding illness. Didn’t they teach you? When you’re sick, you won’t get better unless you take medicine and also get rid of the germs.”

“But the doctor will make her all better?”

“We’ll have them do their best, but it won’t be enough. This time around, the doctors can only give medicine.”

Rinko silently stared Mikoshiba right in the eyes before saying, “Then you get rid of the germs, sensei.”

Not my job
, Mikoshiba almost shot her down. But the words stuck in his throat when he saw Rinko’s eyes.

The pair of unclouded eyes impaled him. Her gaze seemed to be condemning him for a broken promise. Mikoshiba didn’t remember making any promises at all, but strangely a thorn lodged in his heart.

“Mikoshiba-sensei, I will also ask that of you,” Yozo interceded, handing the business card and pen back to Mikoshiba. “What you mean by germs must be Akiko’s case. True, until we have a verdict and the trial ends, Miyuki will keep on getting ill even if she recovers. It might not get resolved in a favorable manner, but—”

“Protect the clients’ interests. The role of attorneys is no more and no less than that,” Mikoshiba stated without looking at Yozo’s face.

Not making promises that he can’t keep, and managing their expectations—it was by holding fast to those two points that Mikoshiba had earned his clients’ trust in the past. He didn’t intend to bend his policy this time, either.

His plan, however, had gone awry. The purpose of today’s visit had been to speak to Miyuki, but there wasn’t much he could do if she was dead-set on staying in her hidey-hole.