The Mammoth Book Best International Crime Read online

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  Inspector Norizuki cocked his head. “Disadvantage?”

  “Yes. Let’s first look at the advantage. We’ve been thinking that the message ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ was a deliberate trick to make Matsunaga’s murder look like a crime committed randomly by a psychotic. However, if you think it over a bit, it’s obvious that one couldn’t hope to alter the focus of the investigation with such a childish trick. As the phrase is copied straight from a popular urban legend, even if I hadn’t told you, sooner or later someone would have noted that fact. Once the message was discovered to be a fake, it is clear that suspicion would fall on whoever harbored hatred toward the victim. The killer would have been able to foresee that much. And even more so from Miyoshi’s standpoint, as he had had a confrontation with the victim over a love triangle. To put it another way, there is hardly any advantage for Miyoshi to have left the message in blood.”

  “What you say makes sense, but isn’t it merely a theory born of hindsight?”

  “You could say that if we look only at the advantage side. But the disadvantages that come about from leaving the bloody message are even more critical. Can you see? Let’s say that, just as you imagined, Miyoshi killed Matsunaga at eleven-thirty pm, and was nearly bumped into by Aki at the crime scene. Under cover of darkness, he succeeded in not being seen by her. In that case, why would he purposely leave a message saying ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ which would tell not only Aki but also the police that he had been there at that time?”

  The Inspector sucked in air in surprise.

  Rintar continued: “According to your story, Father, Aki wasn’t aware that the murderer was hiding in Matsunaga’s room until she was told about the bloody message. That means that if the message hadn’t been left, no one would have found out that the murderer was at the crime scene at eleven-thirty. The same can be said for the estimated time of death. Without the bloody message, it would have been impossible to specify the time when the crime was committed.”

  “Yes, what you say is true, but . . .”

  “Let’s keep this in mind and review the theory that Miyoshi committed the crime. If, as in the initial supposition, he killed Matsunaga at eleven-thirty pm, he should have been the one to most dislike having the time the crime was committed narrowed down. This was because he had no definite alibi from the time he left Matsunaga’s apartment at ten-thirty. As he had no way of establishing an alibi after the fact, all Miyoshi could hope for was that suspicion be deflected from him onto others who had attended the party due to there being no precisely estimated time of death. That is, the wider the range of the estimated time of death, the greater the benefit to him. Though he may have been upset immediately after killing Matsunaga, when he calmed down and became more rational, he would have been able to make such a calculation. That is why I wonder about Miyoshi having left the message written in blood . . .”

  “Just a minute. Isn’t it dangerous to jump to such a conclusion?” Recovering a little, Inspector Norizuki attempted to put the brakes on Rintar’s deduction. “We can’t assume that Miyoshi assessed the advantages and disadvantages and acted rationally. It is possible that he may have had his attention only on the less likely advantages and impulsively wrote the message.”

  “I can’t see that happening. After all, you yourself said the killer was exceedingly clever. And if Miyoshi had lost his cool, could he have held his breath in the dark and refrained from killing Aki as well?”

  The Inspector’s face betrayed acknowledgment of his weak point. Yet he seemed not to be entirely convinced, and said, as if he were poking at the crumbs left in a lunchbox, “Your argument certainly makes sense, but to me it is, after all, founded on extremely passive grounds.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The reasoning your theory attributes to Miyoshi is entirely passive. For no matter how much the estimated time of death is broadened, it doesn’t change Miyoshi’s not having an alibi, does it? Wouldn’t he be pushing his luck to sit back and do nothing and expect to avoid being suspected?”

  Nodding at this commendable objection, Rintar replied, “Naturally, you would have such a rebuttal. But go back to what you said about passive grounds. If Miyoshi were the culprit, he would also have had an active reason for leaving the scene without writing the message in blood.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “As I said before, if there had been no message in blood, when Aki returned at eleven-thirty to pick up what she had forgotten, no one would have found out that the killer, that is, a third person other than Aki and the victim, had been there. In fact, she had visited the victim’s apartment entirely alone within the limits of the estimated time of death. This meant that the first person to be suspected would be none other than Aki herself. If the message hadn’t existed, would the police have taken her statement as the truth? I can’t think that would be the case. If Miyoshi had been there, I’m sure he would have thought the same way – that he had motive and no alibi. And that by quitting the scene without leaving evidence that someone else had been there he would be helping to shift the suspicion of murder to Aki, who had the misfortune to have shown up at the scene of the crime. This wouldn’t at all be an unnatural way to think.”

  Rintar stopped to wait for his father’s response. The theory of Miyoshi Nobuhiko as murder suspect was about to go under.

  Still, the Inspector seemed to persist in promoting his own theory. With a jut of his chin he said, “It might be that Miyoshi was in love with Aki. Weighing the fact that Aki would be suspected versus the fact that his crime would be exposed, what if he deliberately chose to leave a message that would be disadvantageous to himself?”

  Shaking his head firmly, Rintar countered, “That is an impossibility. If Miyoshi loved Aki, he wouldn’t have left a message written in blood that would frighten her. It could result in her becoming deeply traumatized, just like Sasaki Megumi. I’m sorry, Father, but you have no more escape routes. The Miyoshi-as-culprit theory is now completely disproved. He is not the one who killed Matsunaga.”

  “Mmm.” Letting out a moan of defeat, the Inspector, having nothing else to do, lit a cigarette. He smoked it wordlessly for a while, but then he slapped himself on the forehead. “All right. I agree. I’ll take back my suspicions about Miyoshi. But this means the investigation is back to square one. If it wasn’t Miyoshi, then who the hell killed Matsunaga?”

  “There’s no need to go back to square one.”

  The inspector raised his eyebrows. “Does that mean you have an idea who the real murderer is?”

  “Yes. All we have to do is to look at our argument from the opposite direction. We should ask what conditions would allow for the disadvantage of leaving the message in blood to work contrarily, to favor the killer. In other words, who would gain the most from the existence of the message ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s what we need to look at.”

  His cigarette still at his lips, Inspector Norizuki suddenly glared.

  “Do you mean Hirotani Aki? You just said that if there had been no message in blood, she would undoubtedly have been the first to be suspected.”

  “Just as you say. The reason Aki’s statement was recognized as being true to fact was due to the message in blood. What if, though, her statement was a boldfaced lie? What if, when she went back to Belle Maison Matsubara to retrieve her cell phone, Matsunaga was still alive, and no one was hiding in the darkened room?”

  “Then the message saying ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ was . . .”

  “Of course, Aki herself wrote it.”

  “What?! I can’t buy that.”

  But Rintar persisted. “Let’s start from where her story begins. When Aki went back to Matsunaga’s apartment, did she really not turn on the light? Her own statement is the only thing to back this up. You mentioned that in her statement she said one of the reasons she didn’t turn on the light was that in the worst c
ase, a groggy Matsunaga might mistake her appearance for a seduction and suddenly attack her. What if this statement wasn’t hypothetical but what actually happened, and Aki let it slip out?”

  “What actually happened? You mean Matsunaga tried to assault Aki?”

  “It’s not impossible. After all, Matsunaga had made a prior attempt at seducing a friend’s girlfriend. Returning to Matsunaga’s apartment to retrieve her cell phone after the party, Aki entered the unlocked room and turned on the light, waking the soundly sleeping Matsunaga. Drunk and half-asleep, Matsunaga seized the chance of Aki having come back alone and tried to take advantage of her. Of course Aki resisted. Desperate to protect herself, Aki grabbed the ice pick used during the party, which was within reach, and stabbed Matsunaga in the chest. I doubt she had any intention to kill him, but that one stab was fatal, and he slumped to his death.”

  “That section is similar to the Miyoshi-as-murderer theory.”

  “Is that sour grapes?” Rintar grinned. “It goes without saying that Aki was shaken up. Coming to her senses with difficulty, she considered how she might conceal her crime. Her problem was Sekiguchi Reiko, who was waiting for her return at the donut shop. The police would eventually find out from Reiko that Aki had returned alone to Matsunaga’s apartment to reclaim what she had forgotten. At that point, she would be the first to be suspected. Was there some way she could avoid this predicament? At that moment, what flashed across her mind like a revelation was the story she had heard from someone of Ms A and the murderer who had left a message written in blood. She might be able to thwart the police investigation if she acted the part of Ms A, who narrowly evaded becoming a second victim of the person who had just killed a fellow university student in the dark. Having thought this up on the spot, Aki copied the urban legend and left the message ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ Then she turned off the light, left the apartment, and rode the bicycle she had borrowed from Reiko back to the donut shop as though nothing had happened.”

  “If that were the case,” said Inspector Norizuki doubtfully, “what about her reaction when she saw the message during her questioning?”

  “Of course that was an act.”

  “But I can’t believe it was.”

  “That’s likely because you had a preconception as to what her reaction would be.”

  “I wonder. It’s not as though I’ve learned nothing during the many years I’ve spent in the interrogation room. If she had fainted on the spot like Ms A did, I would admit that Aki had faked it. But her reaction was the real stuff. And even if my perception is wrong, your theory has holes in it.”

  Rintar sat up so as to squarely face his father’s counterattack. “What holes?”

  “It’s a time problem. As the donut shop receipts show, there were at most fifteen minutes when Aki was alone after she parted from Reiko. And ten of those minutes were taken up bicycling round-trip between Umegaoka Station and Belle Maison Matsubara. Even with a liberal estimate, Aki could have been in Matsunaga’s room for only five minutes. Just think about it: five minutes is only 300 seconds. On your theory, in just that short amount of time, Aki began to struggle with Matsunaga, who tried to take advantage of her,” as he continued, the Inspector counted the points off on his fingers, “stabbed him with the ice pick, then, barely recovering from the shock of killing someone from over-defensiveness, she immediately thought up the brilliant idea to make it seem like a copycat of the urban legend, wrote the message in blood with a cigarette filter, flushed the filter down the toilet, washed the blood from the ice pick and her hands at the sink, made certain she left nothing, and quickly left the scene of the crime. And that’s not all. She would have needed time to straighten out her appearance, which must have become disheveled during her struggle with the victim, so that Reiko wouldn’t suspect anything. This might be possible in one of your novels, but in actuality, do you think she had enough time to do all of that in just five minutes? What’s more, Aki is a nineteen-year-old college student, not a professional killer. She couldn’t possibly have remained calm enough to complete all that so quickly and efficiently immediately after she had unexpectedly killed someone.”

  The tables had turned. Uncharacteristically red-faced, Rintar dejectedly scratched his head. “I have to admit that the time factor is rather difficult . . . But what if Aki used an illusion as a trick, causing Reiko’s sense of time to be off, and was able to squeeze out more than five minutes?”

  “Hardly. What about the times stamped on the donut shop receipts?”

  “Maybe she pilfered another customer’s receipt and switched it with hers or Reiko’s receipt?”

  Inspector Norizuki gave a snort. “Now you’re forcing an improbability. I told you we have corroboration from the donut shop attendant regarding the alibis for Hirotani Aki and Sekiguchi Reiko. There are no holes in their statements. I say there is no chance that Aki killed Matsunaga.”

  5.

  Still, Rintar was unable to give up on his theory that Aki had committed the crime. Various possibilities branched out in his head. Somewhere there must be a shortcut that would clear the time obstacle . . .

  After a while, he spoke. “What if we look at it this way? The crime committed on Monday night wasn’t spontaneous, but planned out to the smallest detail.”

  “You mean Aki planned it? But Aki had no reason for killing Matsunaga, did she?”

  “Maybe she did. Just as with Sasaki Megumi, drugs may have been involved. Aki may have regularly obtained Prozac from Matsunaga, but there was some trouble over the deal. When that became a big problem, Aki decided to kill Matsunaga.”

  “Hmm. Trouble regarding Prozac deals,” Inspector Norizuki said, without much enthusiasm. “But I wouldn’t think that would lead to murder – though it can’t be ruled out completely. Well, what then?”

  “In her murder plan, Aki decided to use the rumour about the murderer leaving a message written in blood at the crime scene. It goes without saying that her objective was to deflect suspicion by playing the role of Ms A. So, on Monday night, she didn’t happen to forget her cell phone in Matsunaga’s room; she had planned it. This was to create a natural reason for returning to Belle Maison Matsubara after the drinking party was over – she may have already taken the ice pick with her at that time. And it was probably Aki who suggested that she borrow Reiko’s bicycle in front of Umegaoka Station. If Reiko had gone back with her, she would have hindered Aki’s committing the crime. At the same time, arranging to meet her at the donut shop must have been done with the purpose of creating an alibi.”

  “Why was the door to Matsunaga’s apartment unlocked when Aki returned to Belle Maison Matsubara? It’s too convenient to have been a coincidence.”

  “Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence. She must have secretly told the victim before the party that she would return alone later. I don’t know what kind of reason she gave, but Matsunaga was waiting for her without going to sleep, unaware that she had murderous intentions. Aki pedaled the bicycle as fast as she could back to Belle Maison Matsubara. As soon as she entered Room 206, she stabbed Matsunaga in the chest with the ice pick when he welcomed her – with no hesitation.”

  “Wait. There was evidence on Matsunaga’s body that indicated he had struggled with his assailant.”

  “Aki faked the evidence afterward. As she had planned, after she dipped the cigarette filter in his blood, wrote the message ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ and quickly took care of all those things that you just counted off, Aki hurriedly left the room. With a plan firmly in place, it wouldn’t be impossible to complete all of these steps within five minutes. In actuality, there was no grappling with the victim, so her hair and clothes were not messed up. After this, Aki again pedaled full speed to the station and met up with Reiko at the donut shop as if nothing had happened. How about that, Father? I would think that it was quite possible for Aki to kill Matsunaga even if she only had about five minutes.”

  The respons
e from the Inspector was not favorable. Blowing a lungful of smoke at Rintar’s face, he retorted, “It might be possible – as a desktop plan. But your theory has a fatal flaw.”

  “Oh?”

  “Let’s say she did plan Matsunaga’s murder,” the Inspector said cuttingly. “Why would she need to fake it as an urban legend in order to accomplish it? If it were a spontaneously committed crime, I could understand – Aki’s random behavior happened to coincide with the story of Ms. A and became the impetus for leaving the bloody-lettered message. But if the murder was premeditated, nowhere is there a reason to embellish it with the urban legend motif. There are many other ways to set it up, so why would she have concocted such a convoluted, intricate plan? Such a plan, which mistakes the means for the end, could only be entertained in the abstract by someone lacking a real necessity for committing the crime.”

  Rintar was forced into silence. He had to admit it was exactly as his father said.

  6.

  “This makes it a draw between us in terms of injuries.” Inspector Norizuki spoke as if to encourage the despondent Rintar. He had just returned from the kitchen, fresh drinks in hand. He set the glasses on the table and sat down heavily.

  “Don’t be so discouraged. The night is still young. Let’s rethink the case one more time, going back to our first assumptions. I don’t buy your identifying Hirotani Aki as the murderer, but I don’t think the direction of your reasoning was wrong. As you suggested, Matsunaga’s killer was someone who would benefit from leaving the message ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ ”

  Sighing deeply as he reached for his glass, Rintar said, “The problem then becomes the nature of the benefit, doesn’t it?”