Nocturne of Remembrance (30 page)

Listening to Mizohata’s explanation, Misaki flipped through the investigation records at a furious speed. Confirming that the location pics accorded with Mizohata’s observation, the prosecutor sank into a sort of daze. Even so, he hesitantly raised his hand to ascertain the truth.

“But, witness, furnishings with rounded edges are common, and it’s quite normal for a housewife who likes to keep things tidy to put all stationery in one place. Concluding that it’s needle phobia from that alone is rather hasty, is it not?”

“On the other hand, however, wherever the patient doesn’t usually enter—namely, the other family members’ rooms—things with sharp tips and knives are left out randomly. Isn’t the difference between areas that were in or out of her sight fairly striking? In other words, it was a measure to contain her phobia. The tendency is even more salient in the kitchen.”

Mikoshiba promptly brought up the kitchen photo on the monitor. Mizohata pointed a finger straight at one spot.

“Look, the storage area. Not one kitchen knife. A kitchen without a single knife or pair of cooking scissors is, to me, a bizarre and unfamiliar sight.”

The true significance of the slicer next to the microwave was clear now. It wasn’t there so that her young daughters could cook. Akiko, who feared the tip of kitchen knives more than anything else, had been forced to resort to such a replacement.

Knowing how Mizohata would answer, Mikoshiba ushered on the old doctor. “The defendant suffered from needle phobia and could not wield a kitchen knife. Is that it?”

“I doubt she could even touch one, let alone wield it. Her thorough precautions against all pointed objects prove, on the contrary, just how badly she feared them.”

Now’s the time
.

Mikoshiba followed up as quick as a flash. “Then, is it possible for the defendant to pierce someone with an edged tool such as a box cutter? In particular, to aim it at an unguarded cervical region and to stab at the same spot three times?”

“If she closed her eyes, she might be able to hold the shaft. But she’d be paralyzed the moment she became conscious that it was a lethal weapon with a honed point. All in all, the action is almost inconceivable.”

“Bullshit!”

Brushing off the courtroom officer, Akiko leapt out of the defendant’s seat.

As her outstretched arms approached Mizohata, Mikoshiba placed himself between the two and pointed right at Akiko an object that he’d pulled out of his pocket.

What he thrust out was just a bookmarker. It was metallic, however, and tapered to a point.

The effect was unmistakable. As soon as Akiko Tsuda saw the thing’s tip, she let out a brief shriek, turned her face away, and crouched down.

In the hushed courtroom, the neurological patient remained balled-up, trembling as if she’d caught a death of a fever.

Sanjo and Misaki were staring with their mouths half-opened, their eyes no longer those cast upon a heinous murderer.

Satisfied, Mikoshiba put the bookmarker back into his pocket. He’d prepared it just in case Mizohata’s explanation didn’t have sufficient appeal, but the prop had more than served its purpose.

“Your honor, it is just as you see. The defendant, still suffering from a neurotic disorder, cannot even get close to a box cutter, the murder weapon, let alone grab it. Thus it was impossible for the defendant to commit the crime.”

“B-But,” Misaki eked out, too flabbergasted to obtain the judge’s permission to speak, “her fingerprints were definitely on it.”

“Because she indeed ‘closed her eyes’ ‘to hold the shaft’ after it was used. Her fingerprints must have gotten on the murder weapon while she wiped away those of the actual wielder. The defendant was merely trying to cover up for that person. Having removed the fingerprints and relocated her husband’s corpse to the dressing area, she was washing off the bathroom walls when Mr. Yozo Tsuda turned up. Since she couldn’t name the true culprit, her father-in-law simply assumed that the defendant was culpable.”

“Who on earth is she covering up for?”

“I don’t know, either. But we have the means to make an inference.”

“How is that?”

“Earlier, I indicated the possibility that a family member other than the defendant had left traces of sexual intercourse that the defendant had noticed. When the victim was murdered under such circumstances, the defendant naturally knew who the culprit was and what the motive was.”

“Stoppp,” Akiko’s scream echoed through the courtroom. “I beg you. I have no other wish—so please, stop!” She writhed and continued to resist even with two courtroom officers grabbing either arm. The meek woman who’d been like a cat in a stranger’s home was gone.

“Defendant, quiet please. Otherwise, I will have to eject you,” Sanjo cautioned again, vexed that things were getting out of hand.

Perfect
. Neither Misaki nor Sanjo believed that Akiko was the killer now. Briefly going over Mizhohata’s medical records of her needle phobia, then having another expert diagnose her post-session, would clinch it.

Mikoshiba’s shoulders relaxed without his even knowing it. The warm afterglow of victory began to fill his bosom.

Misaki wasn’t letting him bask in it. “Defense attorney, are you done with the witness?”

“Yes.”

“Then, your honor, may I cross-examine the witness?”

Cross-examine?
What a sore loser, this prosecutor—fine, then
Mikoshiba would just go all the way and crush him.

“Proceed.”

“Witness, we’ve confirmed that the defendant has needle phobia and that it hasn’t healed to this day. Yet getting so caught up in fear as to be unable to hold a mere knife defies our ordinary sensibilities. You testified that the defendant’s younger sister’s passing was the cause, but however much the defendant cared for her, could it really have been that traumatic? What you’re saying does sound somewhat hyperbolic.”

“I hear you. In this instance, though, it makes sense that she should have been traumatized. It was, after all, a cruel and gruesome case that made us cover our eyes.”

“Case?”

“Her younger sister, only five then, was murdered. It was all over the papers and on TV, so I think some of you might remember.” Mizohata paused and shook his head in disgust. “It was just abnormal. Slaughtering an innocent child is already inexcusable, but her sister had had her head and limbs severed after being strangled. Interviewing the patient, I realized right away that her phobia of pointed objects, and knives in particular, had a direct cause in that incident. Given its gravity, details about the remains should have gone unreported, but her sister’s body parts were left, incredibly enough, on a mailbox, at a kindergarten’s entrance, and atop a shrine’s offertory box, for all to see. Moreover … Moreover. The culprit who carried out these cruel acts that would shame a beast and was nicknamed the ‘Corpse Delivery Man’ turned out to be a fourteen-year-old boy.”

It was when Misaki was about to continue his questioning.

“Please arrest that man, that lawyer!” a high-pitched voice rose up from the gallery. “He’s Shinichiro Sonobe, the one who killed my daughter, Midori!”

It was Akiko’s mother, Narumi Sahara. Dropping the mask of a gentle old lady, she was now shouting frantically.

Took you a while
.

Mikoshiba looked over at Narumi melancholically. He’d guessed
right away that she was Midori’s mother, but partly because he went by a new name, no doubt she had struggled to connect Shinichiro Sonobe with Reiji Mikoshiba.

The gallery turned into an angry beehive thanks to Narumi’s cries. Some visitors, clearly media reps, shot out of the courtroom with a precious scoop cradled in their arms.

“I remember the Corpse Delivery Man case.”

“What, the defense attorney is that boy?!”

“How could a murderer become a lawyer?”

“He isn’t eligible to practice in the first place!”

“Get out of the courtroom, you animal!”

This time, Sanjo and Misaki had their mouths fully and wide open. Misaki, in particular, stood dumbfounded, just gazing at Mikoshiba. Practically no one in legal circles was unfamiliar with the case. It was the natural response to being told that the defense attorney he’d been battling was the Corpse Delivery Man himself.

Yozo and Mizohata reacted in much the same manner, their expression that of believers who’d just learned that the god they worshipped was an evil deity.

Irate exclamations and jeers filled Courtroom #822, now a forum for Mikoshiba’s indictment.

“Mikoshiba-sensei.” Curiously enough, amidst all that, it was Akiko who responded in the calmest manner. “I dismiss you as my defense attorney as of this moment.”

The courtroom quieted down at her ringing voice, which bore no trace of either panic or fear.

Mikoshiba nodded like he understood, tucked the documents on the desk in the crook of his arm, and headed for the exit. Looks of hatred and scorn rained on him from right and left, but he walked at a steady pace with a nonchalant air.

In the worst case, he might never appear in court as a defense attorney again. Yet Mikoshiba felt strangely sunny.

As he opened the courtroom door, he heard Sanjo’s voice behind
him.

“The verdict will be handed down two weeks hence. This session is adjourned.”

Media personnel who were now privy to his past would be waiting for him at the main entrance. To avoid notice, Mikoshiba headed toward the Bar Association Building. Out east through it he could escape to Hibiya Park.

“Mikoshiba-sensei,” somebody called to him from behind. “Please wait.”

Turning around, he saw Yozo chasing after him. Behind the old man was Misaki.

Catching up, Yozo started to speak breathlessly. “I … have to … thank you.”

“But I am Akiko’s sworn enemy. You must have heard.”

“Even so, her innocence was proven thanks to you. It was truly stunning. After that defense, nobody will be able to treat her like a criminal.”

Misaki took over. “I’ll swallow my pride and second that view. I never imagined that the accused … no, excuse me … that she was afflicted with such a neurosis. Since when did you know?”

Before answering, Mikoshiba looked around. “Yozo, that nuisance of a six year old isn’t with you?”

“I asked Rinko to wait in the park.”

That was convenient for Mikoshiba. What he was about to say was hardly suitable for a child’s ears even if it was the truth. “When I visited the Tsuda residence for the first time, prosecutor.”

“Really.”

“I’ve been dismissed as the defense attorney. I wouldn’t be laying any trap.”

“That would make the Setagaya Station and the rest of our camp idiots one and all.”

“Don’t let it bother you. I simply enjoyed an advantage that you
guys didn’t.”

“Advantage?”

“I knew that Akiko Tsuda—no, Akiko Sahara—was one of the bereaved, and also that the bereaved are left with emotional scars to varying degrees.” He didn’t have to add
—as the perpetrator
. “Plus, I felt intrigued that the rooms all looked so different. I immediately suspected a mental ailment on Akiko’s part. The rest was just retracing her past to forage for records of psychiatric treatment. It was certainly a gamble, though.”

Mikoshiba had remembered Akiko well.

She’d always acted like Midori’s defender and had fussed over her. If she lost what was so dear to her in a supremely savage and intense way, what might that do to her mind?

It didn’t take much imagination to see.

“Let me compound my shame,” Misaki said, “by asking one more dumb question. Who on earth is the real culprit that she even assumed guilt to protect? I won’t let you feign ignorance like you did back there. You clearly know who it is.”

“I turn your words back at you. You, prosecutor, must already know. Or do you just want to use me to check your answer?”

Mikoshiba’s tone was provocative, but Misaki, not interested in taking the bait, gazed straight into Mikoshiba’s eyes. “Checking answers, huh? Then it’s only right for me to go first. To begin with, you gave me a big hint.”

“I did?”

“The fact that the victim had sexual relations with somebody other than Akiko. And the only people she’d ever sacrifice herself to protect are her daughters.”

Yozo, standing behind Misaki, exhaled deeply.

“It was the older daughter, Miyuki, who stabbed the victim … yes?” the prosecutor said.

Mikoshiba chose to neither assent nor shake his head. Misaki would know that silence amounted to an affirmation.

“The younger sister, Rinko, is just six years old. She hardly has the strength to deal a lethal blow to the neck. A process of elimination leaves Miyuki as the only suspect.”

“A reasonable inference.”

“The victim sexually abused his daughter repeatedly … The crime was Miyuki’s retaliation or perhaps excessive self-defense. That was it, wasn’t it.”

Since the incident, Miyuki had shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. It hadn’t been from the shock of a murder case in her family. She was the perpetrator; it was for another reason that she’d needed to seclude herself.

“There is no way that Miyuki obediently acceded to the sexual abuse,” Misaki continued. “And Akiko discovered the contraceptive package and noticed.”

Mikoshiba held his silence. The prosecutor’s inference so far was consonant with his own.

“And on that night, Miyuki’s mental balance collapsed. After the victim quarreled with Akiko and entered the bathroom, Miyuki took out a box cutter from the toolbox in the closet and stabbed the bathing, defenseless victim from behind. Akiko rushed to the scene. Aware of the two’s sexual relationship, she immediately understood when she saw the crime scene. Hoping to get rid of the dead body before anything else, she forced Miyuki out of the bathroom, moved the corpse to the dressing area, and started washing the bathroom walls, which was when her father-in-law showed up. Since telling him that Miyuki had done it was out of the question, Akiko had no choice but to confess to a murder. To protect Miyuki from the police, and to defend her family’s honor … I get it now.”

“By and large, I think that’s what happened.”