After leaving Reina Myoko’s apartment, I went back to the Tokyo Bay Station where I sat at my desk. I stared at my laptop for a little while, but my focus drifted and all of the letters started to blur together.
It was already 5:00 P.M.
My standard-issue steel desk was as organized as I could get it. There was an open space in front of me with just enough room for my head. I planted my face down like I was being sucked into the desk.
He didn’t have any photos at all?
Akiyama had explained Reina really didn’t like having her picture taken. Still, it was difficult to imagine a couple not taking photos with each other.
Then maybe he was lying about the fact that they were dating?
I had trouble even imagining that the two had been dating, so I was slightly fixated on the idea that he was lying. But if that was the case, he would’ve been faking all that grief…which I couldn’t believe. Those tears had to be the real thing.
We didn’t find any photos at the apartment. Nor did we find her smartphone or any trace of her on photo-sharing apps.
I had asked that my graduation yearbook be sent from home. And when I received it, I quickly realized something: Reina’s photo wasn’t in the yearbook.
Reina wasn’t in her class picture or picture of the entire school. She hadn’t been absent or anything, and I remembered even then I had been confused as to why she wasn’t in the photos.
I don’t know why, but Reina had avoided leaving any traces of herself in photographs even then.
“Hey, do you know what a misdirection is?”
Had she purposefully been trying to make herself difficult to remember? And now, to top it off, her face had been cut off.
This woman whose face I couldn’t remember was now dead, her face removed, and she’d left zero records of what she looked like.
It almost felt too perfect to be coincidence. And if it wasn’t a coincidence…could it actually be possible that this case had been ongoing since we were classmates in high school? I had a hunch that something awful was happening, and my heart started to beat faster.
I had to remember more about high school. When I closed my eyes and tried to think back, I was flooded with the saccharine, cotton-candy-like atmosphere of that time. For me, Junseiwa Academy had been an uncomfortable place full of extremely clingy relationships.
Out of that daze, something bizarre floated up in my mind.
Of course, I thought, Reina Myoko and her gang of girlfriends. They were always at her side, like they were in the secret service. All together they created this elegant, showy, almost sacred atmosphere, like a rose garden, one which all the students at Junseiwa Academy longed to be a part of.
However, those girls seemed to believe that they were special because they hung out with Reina, who was special, and they wanted to keep everyone else from having access to that by separating themselves from the rest of us.
At the center of that enclosure was Reina Myoko.
I remembered the names of the girls who formed this exclusive girl gang: Otoha Tamachi, Miyuki Yata, Sena Hagawa, Asami Ino, and Ryoko Omura.
Everyone called them “the Bumblebees” because they buzzed around Reina like she was a flower, or maybe because they stung anyone who tried to get close to her.
I wondered why they did that. I didn’t really pay much attention to all the cliques at the time, but now I was starting to feel how strange it was. I felt like it might have something to do with the case.
I put my hands over my head and wallowed in my thoughts. My laptop chimed with a mail notification. It was from Omori in forensics.
I opened the mail: “I’m writing about the driver’s license photo—it doesn’t look like Reina Myoko had a driver’s license.”
God, she was an idiot.
We knew from Akiyama’s account that Reina owned a red BMW. Which now suggested she owned a luxury automobile despite not having a license?
He said she usually parked her BMW at a pay-by-the-month lot half a mile from her apartment. Patrol vehicles had been parked at the lot near her place because officers from the Mukojima Station were patrolling the area. Akiyama also had no idea why she had such an expensive car.
Plus, the BMW hadn’t been returned to the parking lot. It was possible the murderer used it as a way to transport her body. However, using the victim’s car to transport the body was usually unthinkable. Even if the murderer knew about the car only through a loose acquaintance with Reina, using the car would be tipping the police off and would narrow down the perp profile.
Why did the body need to be moved in the first place? If you move the body, obviously you risk being seen in the process. Why did the killer have to get rid of the body in the park in Odaiba? Did he want the body to be discovered early in the morning?
There was something confusing and elusive about the killer’s actions. This wasn’t just a shoddy attempt to cover his tracks. And it made me sick to think it was intentional.
To begin with…Reina Myoko, that ethereal woman, couldn’t have been just another victim.
We’d determined from her dental records that the corpse was indeed her, but I kept doubting.
“Ughh,” I muttered. I lay my face on the desk and gave up. I’d exceeded my mental capacity. I took my commuter card wallet out from my pants pocket without moving from that defeated position.
I opened the wallet, revealing the face of a young woman, bright as a sunflower.
“Looking at photos again?” Yamaji asked.
I panicked and closed the wallet.
Yamaji hesitated, but in the end decided not to say whatever it was and instead stroked his stubble.
“Princess,” he said. “Now, this is just my impression, but I get the sense that this case isn’t straightforward. It reeks of something fishy. This isn’t going to be open and shut.”
“Ditto,” I agreed.
Part of me was pleased I had the same impression as a veteran officer like Yamaji. But as an officer, I wasn’t thrilled that my instinct was right.
“But here’s the key,” Yamaji said. “We have to solve the damn thing before they put together an investigative task force. And to do that, we need an ace up our sleeve.”
“An ace?” I wrinkled my brow. At the academy we’d learned there were no shortcuts. We were supposed to approach investigations earnestly, one step at a time. An ace up a sleeve was the exact opposite of that.
Yamaji strode quickly toward the window without waiting for my response. He marched right up to Section Chief Masatsugu Otawara like he was pretty proud of himself, looked Otawara in the eye, and for some reason placed a lollipop on his desk.
“I’m gonna do it my way, as usual.” He grinned.
Section Chief Otawara was huge, both vertically and horizontally, forming nearly a perfect sphere. He scratched at his buzzcut and picked up the candy. He opened his eyes so widely they looked like they were going to roll right out of his head, and looked at me.
I never would have said this to his face, but if one of those tanuki raccoon dog statues outside restaurants really did transform into a human, I had no doubt that it would look just like Section Chief Otawara.
He scowled and crossed his arms, forcing his already tight-fitting suit to stretch audibly.
“You’re taking Uguisu to see Dr. H already?” he said in a deep voice to Yamaji. “You don’t think it’s a little soon?”
“Well, the Princess has only been working under me for two months,” Yamaji admitted. “But it’s probably all right. Her instincts as an officer notwithstanding, I think we can trust her as a person.”
It was difficult to tell whether I was being complimented or insulted.
“Fine, then,” Otawara shrugged. “I’ll leave it up to you.” He put the lollipop in a desk drawer and curtly returned his attention to paperwork. Yamaji smiled, said “Thanks” quickly, and that ended their interaction.
Despite the awkwardness of their being so near in age but different in ranks, the two of them seemed to have a long-held trust. It was kind of cool to see, to be honest.
“What’s up with the candy?” I asked when Yamaji came back. I was a little embarrassed to ask about something so trivial.
“It’s a little bet we have. He gives me 10 to 1 odds. If they start an investigative task force before I solve it, he keeps it. If I solve it, he gives me ten of them.”
“Those aren’t great odds for you. There’s no way you solve the cases so quickly every time.”
“Oh, you think not?” Yamaji boasted. “I’ll have you know my squad car has been fully stocked with candy for the past year.” He put another lollipop into his mouth with a grin. “You must be at least a little interested as to why I never run out.”