Authors: Hideo Yokoyama
The vehicle lurched into the air. Mikami caught a sharp breath. It took a moment to remember where he was. He’d almost gone under. No – he
had
gone under. The bump in the road had brought him back.
Amazing.
He was at the front line of the investigation, inside the lair of the true commander of Criminal Investigations, at the very top of the food chain. And yet the sandman had still come, unforgiving of even a momentary lapse. It had seized on his sense of good fortune and tried to lure him away by turning it to a sense of well-being, even elation.
He pinched the inside of his leg, twisting until the pain forced his mouth open.
‘Incoming call. Forensics. Initial analysis of the calls to Mesaki’s home has revealed a subtle reverberation. Potential matches are bathrooms, unfurnished studios, public toilets in government and/or commercial buildings built using reinforced concrete.’
Public toilets . . .
Mikami remembered the footsteps he’d heard the previous night. He saw again the map of the Asahimachi area. Large stores on a main road . . .
First he had to take down the new information. He opened his notebook, then stared in disbelief.
One of the details was missing
. He’d forgotten to record the time the kidnapper had instructed Mesaki to join the ring road. He’d been on the phone with Suwa. Then he remembered: Suwa had mentioned the time.
It’s already thirty-seven minutes past.
The call had come in directly after that: 11.37. Mikami wrote down the time, then appended the details. The kidnapper’s words. Making sure to get them right.
Holding the pen too tight, he tore the paper.
Damn idiot. What are you doing? Keep it together!
‘Mobile Command, this is Pursuit 1. Visual confirmation of Mesaki’s car ahead. He’s heading east on the ring road.’
‘Copy. What’s his speed?’
‘Eighty-three, maybe eighty-four.’
‘That’s too fast. Pursuit 1 and Pursuit 2, get in front and slow him down to below seventy.’
‘Pursuit 1, copy.’
‘Pursuit 2, copy.’
‘Mobile Command out.’
–
Aaaaahhh . . . aaaaahhh.
Mesaki emitted a high-pitched moan. The kidnapper was still on the line. –
Please . . . please give Kasumi back . . .
Heartbreaking was the only way to describe it. With guilty eyes, Burly lowered the volume a fraction.
– Where do you want me to go? Just tell me where. I need to see Kasumi. Please, I’m begging . . .
The question was a good one – where
was
the kidnapper trying to take him? Pencil-face was scrolling through the map on the screen. It was still too early to dismiss the Aoi Café. The ring road headed north, arrow-like, until it crossed the state road four kilometres on. From there, turning left at the Isogai intersection would lead south and back towards downtown and Aoi-machi. The route from there was the reverse of Six Four. Mesaki would pass Mahjong Atari first, then Four Seasons Fruits, before finally reaching Six Four’s first stop, the Aoi Café.
But taking that route would be considerably longer than travelling straight down the prefectural highway. The switch had only taken Mesaki from one trunk line to another, so it couldn’t have been designed to lose any cars in pursuit. And the kidnapper had gone so far as to make him do a u-turn . . . maybe he was thinking of the industrial area to the east. Or was he going to make Mesaki take a right off the state road, then a left off the
prefectural highway, which would send him north and back on to the original route, the road from fourteen years ago that led to Neyuki, snaking into the mountains . . . to the Kotohira bridge . . . to the mercury lamps . . .?
Mikami had to shake his head. He felt like he’d reached his limit. It wasn’t just the drowsiness now. The vehicle kept jerking him awake, and he was getting adrenalin rushes, periods of feeling low. Each came without warning. He remembered something and called out.
11.51!
The embargo was already up on Mesaki’s crossing the Kuwabara intersection.
He fumbled, opening his phone. His hands froze.
Wait
.
Kuwabara . . .?
It seemed ridiculous. Mesaki had made a u-turn and was now racing down the ring road. Was Mikami to report that he was still heading towards Aoi-machi, down the prefectural highway? He’d be misleading them, as though he were taking part in some kind of sick prank.
I can’t
. He would skip that particular report. He would call once the embargo was cleared about the kidnapper telling Mesaki to make the u-turn and join the ring road. There was no value in knowing he’d passed the Kuwabara intersection . . .
No . . . Wait . . .
He was wrong. Missing the point. It wasn’t his job to assign value. That was for the people on the outside to determine. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d learned?
The police weren’t the entire world. They weren’t at the centre of any universe. Outside, time was standing still. Mesaki had left the house . . . but he hadn’t moved a metre since. Mikami needed to set him in motion. He was the only one who could.
He called Suwa. He fed him the information about the Kuwabara intersection, said he’d follow with more, and ended the call. ‘It’s a lot more like a normal conference now,’ Suwa had said before he’d hung up. The feeling of achievement served as encouragement.
I’m more than just a spare part here.
With his eyes and ears, he would pay witness to everything that happened. And he would recreate it for the people on the outside.
‘Mobile Command, this is Pursuit 1. Mesaki now at seventy-two. Approaching state road junction in 500 metres.’
The pursuit units had pulled back, having successfully lowered Mesaki’s speed.
‘Copy. Make sure you’re positioned to follow, whether he goes left or right.’
– Have you got to the state road?
The helium voice. It set Mikami on edge; there was no way to stop it from ricocheting right through him.
– I’m almost there. Should I go on? Do you want me to turn?
The tension inside was palpable. Which would it be?
– Go right.
To the north, then. That meant the industrial area to the east was no longer viable. The kidnapper was planning to follow Six Four’s original route.
‘Incoming Call. DoCoMo. Caller still in vicinity of the Yuasa Radio Tower.’
Suggesting the kidnapper had an accomplice.
He would need one, if the handover point was to be near Neyuki, as it had been during Six Four. There were no decent roads linking the area and Genbu. There were a few minor routes you could take through villages and the forest, but the kidnapper wouldn’t make it in time even if he left now. Mesaki was going to join the state road and speed north; it wouldn’t be possible to reach Neyuki before him.
‘Do you know of any helipads near the Yuasa Radio Tower?’ Mikami asked Pencil-face.
‘No.’ The man had regained his businesslike look and tone.
There had to be an accomplice at the handover point. But where? It was a difficult question. The kidnapper had designated the Aoi Café, but then skipped it, and the next two points of the Six Four route. It wasn’t even clear if the kidnapper was still mimicking Six Four. Getting Mesaki to throw the suitcase off the Kotohira bridge. Collecting it at Dragon’s Hollow. Was something else waiting for them, something no one had thought of yet, something even more inventive than the idea behind Six Four? It didn’t feel real. It felt made up. Was that because some part of Mikami knew the kidnapping was a hoax after all?
‘Mobile Command, this is Pursuit 1. Mesaki has turned right on to the state road. He’s northbound.’
–
I just made the turn . . . what next? Keep going forwards?
– Are you familiar with the area?
– Here? No . . . not at all.
– Keep going straight. I’ll get back to you with more instructions.
– Where am I going?
– Just get a move on. You don’t have much time.
– O–okay!
‘Mobile Command, this is Pursuit 1. Mesaki is picking up speed again. Eighty. Eighty-five. Ninety . . .’
–
I just want Kasumi back, okay? I’ll do anything. I just want her back!
– If you want to see her again, you will do everything I tell—
Everyone listening in sat bolt upright. The voice had changed, flattening and twisting around
see her again
, almost fully reverting to normal by
everything I tell
. A man’s voice. Mikami had been right.
The line went dead. The helium had worn off.
‘Kitou! Now’s your chance. Get Mesaki to calm down, and he needs to drive more slowly. Make sure to keep your head down.’
‘Copy.’
‘Get Forensics on to the voice analysis.’
‘Copy.’
Mikami had both feet firmly on the floor, bracing himself against the vehicle’s erratic movement. He’d have done so even without the shaking – that was the effect of the shock coursing through him. It hadn’t been the man’s natural voice. The helium had held, just, maintaining the thinnest shield.
Even then . . .
. . . it felt like he’d actually heard it . . .
the voice of the Six Four kidnapper
. The voice of a man in his thirties or forties, slightly hoarse, with no trace of an accent. The voice that none of the detectives had heard, all those years ago. The Six Four kidnapper, re-enacting his own crime. He’d never considered it a possibility before. He still didn’t, even after hearing the voice. There was only a sense of other-worldliness. The sense of having heard a voice calling from a place where no one was supposed to exist. Of having heard
something
from
somebody
. It felt like the shapeless uncertainty that had been smouldering inside him had multiplied and taken on the clear sound of footsteps.
‘Have requested voice analysis. Noise analysis just in for the longer call. No echo detected. Other background sounds unclear due to the high noise levels in Mesaki’s car.’
‘Mesaki. You need to stay in control. Drive a bit slower.’
Kitou’s voice sounded through the speakers. The connection picked up Mesaki’s shrieked response.
–
What the fuck am I supposed to be doing? Where is he taking me?
‘Mesaki . . . Mesaki! Stop the car for now. We should wait for the next call.’
‘Incoming call. Mesaki’s mobile.’
Another call. Multiple sets of eyes drilled into the speakers.
‘We’ve got the number. Kasumi’s mobile.’
The fifth call: 11.56.
– Keep . . . going . . . straight.
Mikami was stunned. The voice was scratchy and pinched, that of a man squeezing his windpipe as tightly as he could. He’d run out of helium. His hand was clamped around his throat. The image was graphic.
The greater surprise came next.
–
Go . . . to . . . the . . . Cher— . . . Cherry Café . . . on the left, a kilometre past . . . the Ishida-cho intersection.
It was a shortcut to bring Mesaki back. With no warning, the kidnapper had designated the Cherry Café, the fourth stop of the Six Four route.
–
A kilometre past the lights . . . okay! The Cherry . . . Café. I’ll find it!
Would he stick to Six Four from there? The Cherry Café would take Mesaki out of City D and into Yasugi. From there it had been right at another intersection a kilometre on to reach the Ai’ai Hair Salon on the city road. Then a left, at the next set of lights, to join the prefectural highway heading north again. Furusato Foods . . . Ozato Grill . . . Miyasaka Folk Crafts. Then, finally, the Ikkyu fishing lodge.
–
Floor it . . . if you . . . want . . . to see your daughter alive. Floor it!
– Ahhhhhh!
Mikami opened his phone to the sound of Mesaki’s heart-rending screech. He hadn’t lost sight of the time: 11.57. He spoke quickly, relaying the last chunk of information to Suwa. The kidnapper instructing Mesaki to join the ring road, to make a u-turn. Mesaki complying. Leaving the prefectural highway.
That was as far as he could go.
Someone was watching him.
It was Matsuoka. His eyes were still those of a man on a case. Otherwise, he was inscrutable. Had he wanted to check that Mikami was keeping his word? Or had the look been out of pity? Maybe he really was unwell. When he’d seen Matsuoka, his eyes closed, it had seemed a real possibility. Matsuoka was leaving Ogata and Minegishi to do all the work. They were good, there
was no doubt about that. Enough to make Mikami feel envious. But the command vehicle didn’t have that energy of being engaged in a hunt. The men were following the investigation with impressive finesse, but, with Matsuoka subdued, the usual burning urgency to take down the target was missing.
Did he believe it was a hoax, after all? Mikami had to wonder how he would react if they got word that the girl had turned up dead.
An alarm started to ring on someone’s watch. Midday. It happened just as the information spread among those in the back of the truck. Burly turned around, his mouth gaping wide. He was blinking in startled astonishment. Mikami felt the blood drain from his face, painfully aware of what he’d just imagined.
‘That was Station G. Kasumi’s in police custody. She’s safe, in Genbu City.’
The command vehicle veered sharply to one side.
They had joined the state road. Unable to decide between surprise at the unexpected development or nodding at the confirmation of a suspicion, the atmosphere inside the container hovered between both.
Wait for more details.
Matsuoka’s warning had also had an effect. For a while, their attention to the radio response became inattentive. Ogata and Minegishi moved sluggishly, as though their previous animation had been a mirage.
‘Details coming in,’ Pencil-face announced, holding up one side of his headphones. ‘Kasumi Mesaki is . . . she was arrested. Shoplifting. Three cosmetic products. From Strike, one of the outlet stores in Asahimachi, Genbu. The store reported the theft to a
koban
in West Asahimachi. The duty officer brought her in. He only discovered who she was after sitting down with her for questioning. According to her statement, she lost her phone yesterday, sometime before dawn. She’d been sleeping outside, next to the shutters of a live music venue. She said it was gone when she woke up.’