The Devotion of Suspect X - Keigo Higashino [19]
It was already past eight P.M. An old woman carrying a washbasin ambled past them along the sidewalk. There must be a public bath nearby, Kusanagi conjectured.
“Close to the station, lots of shopping … not a bad place to live,” Kishitani remarked quietly.
“Your point?”
“Nothing, really. I was just thinking this isn’t a terrible place for a single mother to raise her daughter.”
Kusanagi grunted. The junior detective’s comment would have seemed a little odd if they weren’t now on their way to meet a single mother and her daughter. That, and Kusanagi knew that Kishitani himself had been raised by a single mom.
Kusanagi walked steadily, occasionally glancing at the small address plates on the telephone poles, comparing them to the address written on the memo in his hand. They should be arriving at the apartment building soon. The memo gave a name, too: Yasuko Hanaoka.
At the time of his death, Shinji Togashi had still been a registered occupant at the address he’d left in the guestbook at the rental room. It just wasn’t where he had actually been living.
Once they’d identified the body, the police had put out a bulletin on the television and in the newspapers, asking for anyone who knew anything about the dead man to contact their local law enforcement. That had turned up nothing. But the real estate agent who had rented Togashi the old apartment in Shinjuku knew where he used to work: a used-car place. He hadn’t been there long, though, quitting before his first year was up.
Still, the lead had been enough to give the investigation some legs. It turned out that the victim had once been an import luxury car salesman, and he’d been fired when he was caught skimming from the till. He hadn’t been charged, however. The detectives had found out about it when they went to the car dealership to do some questioning. The importer was still doing business, but no one on staff there now knew much about Togashi—or at least, no one who was willing to talk.
The investigators did learn that, at the time that he was working there, Togashi had been married. And according to someone who knew him after the divorce, he had made a habit of visiting his ex-wife, and the ex-wife had a child from a former marriage.
It wasn’t hard for the detectives to trace their movements. Pretty soon, they had an address for Yasuko and Misato Hanaoka: the apartment they were heading for now, here in the Morishita district of Eto Ward.
“Well, I sure pulled the short straw on this one,” Kishitani said, sighing.
“What? Doing footwork with me is the short straw?”
“No, it’s not that. I just don’t enjoy the idea of bothering this poor lady and her daughter.”
“If they had nothing to do with the crime, what’s the bother?”
“Well, from the sound of it, this Togashi wasn’t the best husband, or the best father. Who’d want to have to remember all that?”
“Well, if that’s the case, you’d think they’d welcome us. After all, we’re here to tell them the big bad man is dead. Just try not to look so glum, okay? You’re making me depressed just looking at you. Ah, here we are.” Kusanagi stopped in front of an old apartment building.
The building was a dirty gray color, with several marks on the walls where repairs had been made. It was two stories high with four units on each floor. Only half of the windows were lit.
“Room 204, which means we go upstairs.” Kusanagi put a hand on the concrete railing and started up. Kishitani followed.
Room 204 was the unit furthest from the stairwell. Light spilled from the apartment window, and Kusanagi breathed a quick sigh of relief. They hadn’t called in advance; if Ms. Hanaoka had been out, the detectives would have had to come back.
He rang the doorbell. Immediately, he heard someone moving inside. The door was unlocked; it swung open a crack, the door chain still attached. Not unusual, Kusanagi thought, considering a single mother and her daughter live here alone. They’re right to be cautious.
A woman looked out through the opening, peering suspiciously at the two