The first thing I did when I woke up in the morning was visit the Musashino Police Station. I wanted to get the documents I’d asked Shinoyama for.
One of them was a list of the victims from the Inokashira Mass Suicide. About two hundred of them had been identified so far. The other was the location of FM-KCZ, the hint I’d gotten from Moritsuka.
I left the station and headed into the Dotour’s in front of Mitaka Station. It was still morning, so the coffee shop was still empty. I sat in one of the seats in the corner. The soy-milk latte was delicious, with just the perfect amount of sweetness, and it made me feel a little better.
When I was in America, I’d liked sweet drinks, but ever since I’d come to Japan my tastes had changed. I thought about that as I paged through the list of suicide victims. I was looking for a specific name.
“There it is.”
Yuta Gamon.
His was the body where I’d “not seen anything” when I used my psychometry at Daiseiji yesterday. Surprisingly, he was a second-year student at Seimei High. In other words, he went to my school.
He lived in Kichijoji. No siblings. Only living relative, a mother. His dad had died seven years ago. There was nothing particularly eye-catching in his profile.
Why hadn’t I seen anything? I looked through the other names on the list and quickly found Moritsuka’s name.
I remembered what I’d seen when I replayed the body’s memories, and my chest ached. Why did they—the 256, including Moritsuka—have to die?
Right now, everything about this case was a mystery. The more I investigated, the more the mysteries deepened. It was like a bottomless swamp. Even in my time at the FBI, I’d never encountered such a bizarre crime as this.
“I’ll just have to follow the clue Moritsuka gave me, I guess.” I took the other document out of its clear folder.
FM-KCZ, the mini-FM radio station. Next to its address was a memo with extra information. I’d told Shinoyama and Kozaki that I only needed the address, but they’d gone above and beyond what I’d asked for.
According to the memo, there was only one person in Kichijoji with a terrestrial broadcasting license who’d died in the last ten years. Private FM radio stations required a license if you wanted to broadcast over a wide area; otherwise you were violating the law.
And the name of that person was—
“Koresuke Gamon...”
Gamon...
I turned back to the list of suicide victims and checked Yuta Gamon’s name. “It’s the same...”
Yuta Gamon’s deceased father. His name was Koresuke Gamon. Which meant that Yuta Gamon was the son of the operator of FM-KCZ.
It was a strange coincidence. Or did it mean something?
I looked at the radio I had next to me. It was the one I’d borrowed from Yuta Gamon’s body at Daiseiji yesterday. Maybe this had belonged to his father. It was big and heavy, maybe because it was old. But still, there were signs that it had been kept at his side at all times. A symbol of the bond between a child and his dead father, maybe?
Yesterday, my health had made it too risky to do. But now...
I took off my gloves and softly touched the radio.
— Begin the performance.
I wanted to replay the thirty minutes leading up to its owner’s death.
The image was displayed on the screen. I gasped when I saw it.
The image was clear, like a high-definition TV, and the view wasn’t cramped at all. I’d touched countless objects and people to replay their memories, but I’d never seen something so clear before.
It was Yuta Gamon’s house. His room was messy, and his floor was covered with manga. But the radio was placed carefully on the table. That was where I was seeing this from.
There was a lump on the bed. Sometimes it moved, so Gamon was probably asleep. Nothing happened for a while, but suddenly, after a bit, Yuta Gamon woke up.
He was completely silent. Everybody stretches and moans a little when they get up, but this time, Gamon didn’t. He quickly changed from his pajamas into his clothes, in smooth and fluid movements. But even though his hair was a mess, he did nothing to fix it.
The last thing he did was put on his duffel coat and then reach out to touch the radio. His face was...
Blank, like he was dreaming. His eyes weren’t focused at all. But his steps and movements were strangely sure. Sleepwalking? The list hadn’t gone into his medical history.
Gamon put the radio over his shoulder, then put on his shoes and headed out, even going so far as to lock the door. There was no hesitation in his steps as he took the shortest route to Inokashira Park.
He finally arrived there. Many people with the same vacant gaze as him had already gathered. What I would see now was probably the same thing I’d seen from Moritsuka and the other victims, but the amount of information I could get from this video was completely different. I carefully stared at the screen.
Gamon slowly walked into the water like the others, watching those in front of him sink without blinking, and when it was his turn, he glanced down at the water. The moon was wavering on the water’s surface. Gamon leaned back like he was about to jump, and then fell backwards into the water.
“I’m sorry.”
What was that?!
— Performance complete.
That was the only information I could get out of the radio. I looked up and I was back in Dotour’s.
Whose voice had that been?
The voice had been carved into the radio’s memories. And it was the clear voice of a cute, young girl. It wasn’t Gamon’s.
Inokashira Park was silent except for the sound of the water. That’s why the sudden female voice had left such a strong impression.
“Yuta Gamon... is full of mysteries, huh?” Just then, a message came in on my phone. “Hello?”
“I’ve got information on the Hachifukushin,” Oliver said, without even bothering to identify himself. This wasn’t just some quirk of his. It was common in the FBI. “I’ll send over what I’ve got.” And then he hung up. That was ordinary, too.
“The Hachifukushin...” It was a weird name, come to think of it. The Shichifukushin, or Seven Gods of Blessing, were pretty common. Had they added one to them?
I opened up the mail app on my phone and looked at the message I’d received.
“This is...!” I gasped when I saw it. “There’s a connection here... Did Moritsuka notice this?” I shivered as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place.