Chapter 17: 14

He washed his face at the park’s tap. The red lamp kept spinning. The boys were being carried away one after another on stretchers. As if it were midday, the place was noisy with the buzzing of police officers and street rabble. His stomach was in knots and his throat burned.

“So? You don’t want a ride?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
With a shake of his wet hands, Fujishima shooed away the paramedics in their orange uniforms. At the scene, the flash of the forensic camera flickered on. Police officers in uniform and in plain clothes watched him soaking wet. His wishes were not answered. All the officers were familiar faces.

“Fujishima-san, did you get a good look at the suspect?”
The man with glasses spoke in a somewhat distant tone. He knew the man’s face, but had forgotten his name.
“I can’t say. They just sprayed me out of the blue. Ask those kids lying around.”
“There was no one I could talk to right off the bat.”
The guy with the glasses shrugged his broad shoulders and made a note. On the other side was that man from the Investigation Department. He made no attempt to hide his high-pressure attitude.
“You know these boys, don’t you?”
“How would I?”
“What were you doing out at this hour?”
“Don’t you see what I’m wearing? I was jogging.”

Four-eyes put his hand on his belt buckle and his belly shook with laughter.
“That car parked on the bridge, that’s yours, isn’t it?”

“It was my daily routine. I would drive up here and go around the park.”
“Oh. You work for a security company now, don’t you?”
Fujishima gave a nod. Glasses guy laughed again.
“I’ve gotta run.”
“Why didn’t you call the police when you went through the parking lot of the park? You must have noticed something was wrong. There were so many cars and motorcycles being smashed up so loudly.”
The man from the search team cricked the knots in his neck. “You know them, don’t you?”
“I was just tryna’ be a hero.”
The two detectives smiled sarcastically. Glasses-san giggled.
“I’d like to think that. I want to get the hell out of here.”
“You were a detective for years. At least make up a good enough reason to convince us.”

He picked up a cigarette and lit it. The smoke seeped into his sore throat.
“Then I’ll tell you what. You guys can go fuck yourselves.”
“I wonder if any of those brats had something to do with your wife.”
Surely they heard the sound of blood draining from his face. Glasses looked at the fellow with a reproachful look. Fujishima smiled, then turned to challenge the man. As he stepped forward, fists clenched, he was stopped by several police officers.

They shoved him into a wagon. Inside, the guys from the Investigation Department were waiting for him. He answered their questions while kneeling down. They showed him again a picture of Munakata. He insisted he had no idea what was going on.
“What are you trying to do by chasing that story around?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I hear you’re even absent from work. You wanted your old workplace to harass you?”

He just kept shaking his head. There were abrasions on his arms and pepper spray stuck to his face. A whiplash headache. The length of time seemed like an eternity. When the questioning was over, Glasses offered to give him a ride home in a police car. Fujishima spat on the ground. The clock had already struck two in the morning.
The damp air of the river clung to his body. His forehead was covered with a disgusting perspiration. He felt terribly feverish. His feet quickened naturally until he reached the Corolla parked on the bridge.

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They would soon find some motive to connect Fujishima and Munakata. All that was left were white chalk marks and bloodstains. Blue plastic sheets. Shards of glass and a number of warped cars. No. Not surprisingly, he had it all in his grasp, and was letting it all go swimming.

There was a figure inside the unlocked car. Fujishima furrowed his brow. Asai was sitting in the driver’s seat. Silently, he climbed into the passenger seat and handed him the keys. As soon as the engine started, the radio came on and the air conditioner blasted on. He turned over the bottle of oolong tea in the cup holder, wet a handkerchief, and put it on his forehead.
“Which way are we headed?”
Asai asked, plowing through the flashing yellow traffic lights.
“The apartment. The one where my wife lives.”
“Not the hospital?”
“The apartment.”
After a short pause, Asai spoke.

“I saw your wife leave in the evening. She was carrying a large travel bag.”
Fujishima lit a cigarette. His hand holding the lighter trembled slightly.
“How long have you been keeping this up?”

“In the evening, I was sent to the apartment. It was then.” Fujishima stared at Asai’s profile as he drove.
“You came alone?”
Asai shook his head. “With one young man. I told him not to talk about it.” Fujishima closed his eyes.
“Was your daughter abducted by Apocalypse?”
“I told you, she’s traveling.”
“It sort of sounds like she’s been involved with them for more than a couple years now.”
“…”

“Apocalypse is currently in the middle of an internal struggle. Yasuhiro Munakata, a shaved-head with piercings, and a nice mugshot, would be our leader. There was information circulating among the juvenile crime officers that most of the members had turned against him.”
“Internal struggle?” he asked, unable to hide his rising interest.
“It seems that the reason why the gang was displeased with Munakata was that he was almost like a member of the Ishimaru clan.”
“But what does that have to do with the convenience store murder?”

“Junpei Koyama, the guy in that case, was a senior at the technical high school that Munakata attended. He was a member of Apocalypse at one time.”
“So you’re saying it was the yakuza?”
The windshield reflected the image of Koyama, his chest stained red. T-shirt soaked with blood.
“What am I meant to do with that information?”

“…”
“My daughter is traveling. Don’t think the same approach you took back in Public Safety is going to work with me.” Asai’s expression showed no change.
“I’m only trying to──”
“What are you trying to do? What’s the meaning of trying to frame me as an informant? You can’t possibly want me to get credit for the murder.
There was no expression on Asai’s face. He had been an excellent subordinate. Thanks to his benevolence and diplomacy, the young men loved him. He often visited the dojo to lend a hand, and was always happy to help out at interdepartmental baseball tournaments. He blended in with the air in the detective’s room. There was not a shadow of a public safety background in sight.
“What am I supposed to do here?”

“It means nothing. It was my own choice. Your daughter was a classmate of Yasuhiro Munakata’s in junior high school. I just think it’s natural that Section Chief can’t overlook that fact.”
He glared at his profile. They had arrived at the front door of the apartment building. The lights of the white sedan that had been following us from behind illuminated us. Asai got out of the Corolla.

“Please, if you know anything, just tell me. I will help you.”
He walked up to the sedan behind them and climbed into the passenger seat. The engine roared to life as he passed by the Corolla. Fujishima continued to glare at the tail lights as they drove away.

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