Chapter 008
AS CHIEF LIEUTENANT Ishida neurotically wiped his screen, a horizontal crease formed on his cheek.
Ishida was a man of delicate health.
Ishida’s blatant repugnance gave a worse impression than the worst indifference to filth she’d encountered. Shizue thought that with a little perspective, anyone would see it that way. The Ishida she witnessed at the conference left her with a good impression, but you could contrast him with the rest to no end. You’d be comparing him to idiots, no less.
It turned out…
He too was no good.
Shizue shot a venomous look at Ishida and then scattered her poisonfilled glare all around the sterile room—a room almost identical to the center.
Everywhere, everything was constructed homogeneously in the deceptive guise of cleanliness, right angles in the guise of order, when really it was a crooked building. A man who’d put himself in this lie and coated the lie with a faux obsession with cleanliness was a truly despicable man.
Shizue dwelled on the mighty rage she felt and then swallowed it down.
She felt like the lining in her head was being rubbed raw.
In this situation she felt closer to being a masochist than just an aggrieved observer.
All her vilification came right back at her.
Give me a break.
“Why do we need a survey conference?” Kunugi said from the side.
“We don’t need one for now,” Ishida answered.
“Should I run this information to the investigators then?”
“That’s not for you to worry about. The work has all been meted out. Whether the information is to be publicized or not is entirely the determination of the bureau chief, and that’s me. You’re just one investigator.”
“In that case, should I forward just the information on the missing child?”
“That is also not in your jurisdiction,” Ishida said. “I can only tell you the responsibility belongs to someone else. Right now in another room this missing child’s guardians are being brought up to speed, and if they file a search request on their charge, then we will send the information to the person who will take necessary measures. You, you should consider your one concern to execute the one job we gave you.”
Yuko Yabe’s guardians had returned home last night. It followed that the responsibility to guard her went back from the center to the guardians. In other words the guardians’ disposition became the highest priority.
In that case, a counselor’s opinions had no more use than secondary corroboration. In Shizue’s estimation, neither the police nor the local authorities would move on this.
In the end…
“Was there any point to this?” Shizue asked rhetorically, looking at the display behind Ishida’s back. She said it in a way that made it explicit she was being sarcastic. But whether this bureaucrat actually sensed the sarcasm was hardly discernible.
Just in case, he coldly replied that it wasn’t pointless and touched his display with a fingertip.
The data on the screen disappeared and was replaced by a huge police logo.
“As a consequence of your accident, we got a great deal of very interesting information for the investigative unit, so I want to thank you for that, but…”
Ishida fiddled with the display again.
“But I stress that it was a consequence.”
Shizue commenced a pre-emptive strike.
“Are you suggesting that because I didn’t turn up very interesting facts regarding a person of great interest in the murder investigation that my assessment as a counselor was flawed? That my actions were a deviation from the work responsibility of a community center counselor?”
“That is not what I am suggesting,” Ishida said without so much as a change in expression. “In fact your assessment and actions were entirely appropriate given the circumstance. As the head counselor for a student with an unexcused absence from the communication session and whose personal monitor was no longer transmitting a signal, of course it is your responsibility to survey the residence at once. There was nothing inappropriate about that. No—”
Ishida cut himself short and pointlessly tapped at the tablet screen and said, “If anything your response came too late.”
“Late? That’s not possible. I responded as soon as I could.”
Ishida shook his head.
“You were late. You know that better than anyone. You know full well you took a police escort in order to pretend that you were hurrying to the scene.”
Ishida glared at Kunugi.
Kunugi pretended not to notice.
“If a child’s guardian is exempt from supervision, the responsibility for care of the child in question becomes the community center’s. If the child misses labs without a note, you are supposed to confirm the circumstances at the moment you learn of this absence,” Ishida said.
“You’re right. However, this is customarily…”
Shizue stopped herself short in the midst of her apology. Whether it was customary or not, even if the statute Ishida alluded to was unrealistic, the fact of the matter was that the center’s response was exempt from the statutes.
“I’m sure you’re busy with all kinds of business matters, but you must have known as soon as your mail didn’t send that her terminal was offline. You should have, at the very least, known at that point something was wrong. You were almost an entire day late responding to the situation, so if anyone’s going to notice it’s you.”
He was right.
She should have noticed.
But the reason she didn’t notice sooner was that damned conference.
The pointless conference and their insincere work was what threw off the timing of her correct actions and astute judgment.
“That’s all I mean when I say this was a consequence,” Ishida continued. “If you had acted sooner, the connection between Yuji Nakamura and this uh…what was her name…Yuko Yabe would have been known sooner. No?”
Sure, if they hadn’t had that conference, Shizue would have known about Yuko Yabe’s aberrance much sooner.
If they hadn’t had the conference she could have left right after work for the Yabe residence that night, before 6 pm.
This Nakamura child had supposedly headed to the Yabe home after being released from interrogation after 8 pm. Shizue couldn’t know, but she thought she might have been there before him.
Moreover…
“Also, as far as this case is concerned, the fact that a police officer just happened to be there is interesting. If you had gone on your own you wouldn’t have known about the visitor log. That just seems to be too nice of a coincidence.”
Ishida glared at Kunugi again. Kunugi shot back a look of disagreement.
“Coincidence? I moved on my own accord.”
“Kunugi. Neither I as your superior nor the police organization has the authority to restrict your actions on your private time.”
Ishida crooked his face and compared looks on Kunugi and Shizue.
Kunugi let out a short breath.
“I’ve turned in a report.” He looked quickly at Shizue with narrowed eyes.
Whatever was being suggested, any activity with this man outside of their civic duties did not appeal to her. If Ishida thought for a second that Kunugi had any imprudent thoughts or that Shizue went along with them, that would have been a serious misinterpretation; an outrageous one.
She got goose bumps. Kunugi looked like he’d had enough.
“In any case, I had no ulterior motives. I didn’t mean to do anything outside of the police code either, but it’s still your judgment as police chief.”
Ishida was unable to respond.
“More importantly, Ishida. What about this kid Nakamura?”
“After our interrogation, he was released from our custody but didn’t return home. He’s still missing.”
“That’s—”
“Yes, we were negligent,” Ishida said as if to pre-empt Shizue.
“You are acknowledging as much?”
“Of course. It’s clear as day we bungled. Of course I can only say this now. We let a potential suspect up and run away. Still—”
“Let him run away? That’s not what I’d call it. It’s more like making a criminal,” Shizue interrupted. “He’s not a criminal, he’s a subject of interest.”
“That’s precisely why we were unable to keep him. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to restrain him. He has categorically denied having anything to do with this case. He says he wasn’t with the victim. But the probability he was giving false testimony is remarkably high.”
“Do you think you should be saying this? In front of a civilian like me?”
“I am not saying he is a suspect. All I can say is that his testimony, our investigators’ information, and the testimony of numerous eyewitnesses are inconsistent.”
“So you’re treating him as a suspect.”
“That is obviously a distinct possibility.”
“That’s just sophistry. If that’s a distinct possibility, it’s also distinctly not a possibility. The word ‘possible’ is entirely meaningless except to contextualize the impossible.”
“Ms. Fuwa!” Kunugi put out his hand as if to calm her. “All this information has been made public. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you, but I’d recommend you refrain from making these provocative accusations.” Kunugi suddenly slid into formal speech after having yelled at her.
Ishida snickered. “Well, I understand your uncertainty. However, now that we’ve declared this much to a civilian like you, it remains to be seen whether this is reliable information.”
“I don’t think the information is unreliable.”
“Really. It’s just…all it indicates is that the victim and our witness were doing something together during the alleged time of the crime. We unfortunately do not know what the witness had to do with the event itself. In other words, as regards the specific murder investigation, we police don’t have any hard evidence that refutes the witness’s testimony.
“We can’t arrest him,” Ishida said.
“Of course not,” Shizue responded. “Arresting him now would be unacceptable. But the fact remains he’s a significant witness, and the fact that you lost track of him after interrogation is a bit careless, no?”
“Hey,” Kunugi said.
“You’re right. That’s why I’m acknowledging this frankly as a mistake on the part of the police,” Ishida said. “I was easy on him because he was a minor.”
Easy?
Ishida’s diction touched a nerve in Shizue. She took a deep breath.
It was odorless.
“That’s inexcusable.”
What was?
The police chief blinked but otherwise seemed unphased.
“There’s a problem with your statement, chief. In that context, it’s clear why the police held the child as a potential suspect.”
“Is that so?”
“Even if you didn’t mean to, it’s an illegal admission. Even if it were a misunderstanding. I’m an employee of the youth protection and development center. I speak from my position as such, but in this situation, it was your responsibility as a public employee to guard him.”
“Guard…him?”
“Yes. This child…If, as the police have determined, this Yuji Nakamura gave false information, it could be because he personally witnessed the criminal act. The fact that he was with the victim of this violent crime at the time of the incident does not make him the criminal.”
“Right, that makes him an eyewitness. So?”
“That’s all the more reason to protect him.”
Shizue looked for some exculpation in Ishida’s expression.
“Witnessing the violent murder of an acquaintance is a highly peculiar experience, one that has the potential to cause what you police like to call Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He should have been immediately seen to.”
“I see. However, we received no such suggestion from his primary counselor. We weren’t hiding anything. In fact we sent over all this information to your department.”
“Who’s his caseworker?”
“Someone named Shima.”
“Shima…”
She was a lazy woman.
She wouldn’t have done a very detailed inquiry.
“I understand. If the counselor didn’t see the need for supervision then that is that. However, Police Chief, how could you have simply released him?”
“What do you mean?”
“You could look at it this way. This child, Yuji Nakamura, could be considered simultaneously a potential suspect and also the second victim in this case, right?”
“What?” Ishida narrowed his eyes and lowered his eyelids. It wasn’t a look of anger but rather confusion. “Victim? Are you saying the murderer had his sights on him next?”
“It’s absolutely possible. I’m not a criminologist, nor have I done any investigating, so this is all pure conjecture, but…” Shizue looked at the ceiling. Whenever she spoke a small red light next to the mic would turn on. She was being recorded.
The police chief stroked his hair as if to disguise his confusion. “Please go on.”
“For example, couldn’t we assume Nakamura was as much a target as the first victim? Even if the account of his actions rings false, it might not be to hide criminal behavior. Doesn’t that happen?”
“Yes, but—”
“If all the other murder victims were girls from another neighborhood, all this information changes, but this time the victim, Ryu Kawabata, was the same age and sex as Yuji Nakamura. Furthermore they are known to have had real contact. They clearly had commonalities.”
“I can see that,” Kunugi said.
“In which case, the killer’s motive against Ryu Kawabata becomes problematic,” Kunugi said.
“It doesn’t matter the motive,” Shizue countered. “Investigating motives is like improving your odds gambling. It’s still a gamble. It serves no purpose. Profiling is the same. It’s nothing more than astrology.”
“There are scientific foundations for profiling.”
“No there aren’t,” Shizue retorted coolly.
Kunugi strained at the neck.
“I don’t mean to state the obvious, but going forward I’d like for you to choose methods that exclude such suspicious fallacies.”
“Fallacies…”
“Superstition. In this case too we’re only looking at the facts. The victim and the person we know to have been with him shared commonalities. The murderer for some reason killed only one of the two similar boys. This is a fact. Right?”
Ishida nodded.
“It’s meaningless to think about psychological aberrations when determining what led the murderer to make this choice. The interpretation may be accurate, but it also takes away absolute certainty. You hinge on one of those uncertain elements and leave yourself with very few alternatives. First, that Nakamura was in fact not there.”
“The likelihood of that is very low.”
“Just low. Not impossible. One more thing. Whether he was there or not, he was not killed. The police understand that much, right?”
“Making Yuji Nakamura the obvious killer.”
“That’s not the police’s position, Kunugi,” Ishida said.
“It’s not my position either. I’ll repeat myself, but this is just one of the possibilities,” Shizue said.
“Right. Just one of the many possibilities. That Yuji Nakamura was not killed because he is the culprit. It’s an alternative theory based purely on the evidence. However, these aren’t the only answers. He might have been hiding somewhere; he could have been attacked but rescued somehow. Or…the killer might have targeted just Kawabata and not even noticed Nakamura. Technically speaking, a possibility is any potential, non-contradictory, occurrence. It’s an alternative. In that sense there are endless possibilities. His being a suspect is just one. But…”
Shizue looked up at the mic in the ceiling again.
“If Nakamura is the criminal, the circumstances under which you’ve marked him offer very little certainty, and if another crime occurs, that certitude goes up.”
“That’s true.”
“But. Conversely, if Nakamura is considered a victim, the present culprit remains at large, and the crime becomes more serious. That’s why it’s so important the police protect him. The police department’s duty is not just to mine data and catch criminals, now is it?”
Ishida’s expression tightened.
Kunugi sought meaning in that face. “Chief, this might not be for me to say, but I think she’s right. Because—”
“No, I agree,” Ishida interrupted Kunugi. “Since I received your notice last night, I’ve assigned many more investigators to the search for Yuji Nakamura. But, Ms. Fuwa…” Ishida faced Shizue, his posture now open and candid. “Your opinions have been very fruitful. This is embarrassing for me, but we hadn’t considered that because the victim, Kawabata, and Nakamura had so much in common that the latter could have been another victim. Whether witness or culprit, Nakamura is likely one or the other. Frankly, we still can’t determine what relationship these two had.”
“Shima had nothing?”
“Counselor Shima had nothing positive to add.”
“Was she uncooperative?”
That’s just how she is.
“She cooperated, but all she knew was that the two had shared interests in twentieth century cel animation, and that the two of them had shared files on the subject. We didn’t need to hear that from a counselor of course, as it was all in their terminals.”
“What other information do you have?”
“I can’t divulge that information without guardian consent.”
“I see.”
That was probably good.
Still…
“Shima had nothing to add, then?”
Of course she didn’t.
Ishida nodded.
“That’s why we needed to go ahead and mine the data on these children. Do you understand now?”
“These are two different…”
Issues. No. Were they the same problem? Shizue was confused.
“The data on Nakamura on the disc you brought us—”
“There isn’t any.”
They’d only transferred a third of the database.
“Nakamura’s file and Yuko Yabe’s file are probably not on this disc. We went in alphabetical order. If yesterday’s pace is any guide, we won’t be finished with this for another couple of days. Not to mention, when we have to stop for discussions such as this, it delays us—”
“Two days…”
Ishida looked at the screen. “If we could hurry this up…Wouldn’t it be prudent to have the director of the center brought in on this and add staff to get things moving? This work can be done in parallel processing, so a supplemental staff would be productive. And for what it’s worth, the police can send staff with better background in systems management and operations than our Kunugi here.”
Kunugi furrowed his brow without a word.
“What an astute suggestion…”
Ishida looked up slightly and said in a louder voice, “Subject. As regards Ms. Shizue Fuwa’s discoveries. Requesting increase in staff representatives for swift reprisal of systemwide adolescent data-mining activities. Attention, community center director. Sent from chief investigator on Case 388765. Also requesting R investigating officer, name Ishida, be moved to duties on V investigation. Requesting expert staff on systems management and operations. Location, Area Community Center. Request number, Case file 388765. Over.”
The words appeared on the monitor in front of Ishida. He took notice and tapped his ten-key ID, then hit enter with his index finger.
“It’s done. I should hear back immediately.”
Some things could get done so quickly here.
Yuko Yabe’s investigation hadn’t been taken up yet, probably.
Her parents were apparently being briefed in another room.
At the other end of the terminals, two systems engineers heard of their daughter’s absence and panicked. Back when Shizue had accessed the residence, the possibility of Yabe’s absence being the result of a crime seemed low, but for law-abiding public servants the disappearance of a daughter was already a big event.
The circumstances had changed drastically since they’d returned. They didn’t know what the police were going to call it, but it had to be called something, and it was impossible to think it wasn’t connected to the larger crime. Though not definitive, this was part of a murder case. When a connection was made from a child’s disappearance to a murder investigation, of course the parents would lose their minds.
Still…
What were they talking about in there? It didn’t seem they were responsive to questions about Yuko.
Yuko Yabe’s guardians didn’t know a lot about her. It wasn’t a matter of deprivation or failing to meet their responsibilities as guardians. They had quite simply not known this girl at all.
The rights of a child…
One could assert that child rights were about protecting their privacy. In other words, acknowledging a child’s rights was about a guardian recognizing that every child had boundaries you could not cross. That was why so many parents knew nothing about their children. That’s probably the correct way, the normal way, Shizue thought. It was nothing new. Shizue’s own parents knew nothing about her. The difference was that parents of the past thought they ought to know everything about their children and pretended to know as much. Everyone used to believe that was the core of parental responsibility.
That meaningless delusion was dead today.
Shizue was about to inquire how the Yabe investigation was going but stopped herself short because there was nothing she could do about it.
Besides…
Counselors had ever so slightly more information on children than their parents, but it didn’t mean they knew the children any better.
Shizue didn’t know anything about Yuko Yabe. She saved information on her and organized it for work only.
One could only know oneself.
No…
Shizue looked at the police department monitor.
This knows everything about everyone.
Humanity had gone from recording history to being recorded by history. No one would remember private citizens, but all of history would be reduced to numbers and signs stored in a place with no address that no one would know about.
Life would be entirely virtual.
Ishida looked at his own monitor.
“I’ve got a response, finally. From the director. Five staff representatives will join you tomorrow at eleven to resume work. I’ll be sending two members well versed in systems operation from my end as well. Your center has sent orders to your monitor, Ms. Fuwa.”
“Excuse me…”
She pulled out her portable monitor and switched it on. As soon as she opened it, her display was filled with emergency instructions. There were commissions purporting to relieve Shizue of her duties as head of youth data copying. When she pressed accept she then received a notice from the prefectural police that it had been decided that a team of highly skilled administrators would be formed. They would wait for a status report to be submitted immediately.
This must be from memory-hair man.
Shizue wordlessly sent the work log she’d prepared the night before.
That should be enough.
“Looks like you won’t have to do this crap anymore,” Ishida said in a manner not befitting him.
Shizue could obviously not know his intentions in saying such a thing, but she thought he was being sarcastic. “Thanks to you. Now I can go back to doing my regular work.”
“I hear counseling is quite a busy job. You can leave now.”
Now she got it. The formal interview was over. Their conversation was no longer being recorded. That was why his tone had changed.
Ishida stood up. Then turning around as if he’d forgotten something, he stopped his gaze on Kunugi.
“Kunugi.”
“Yes,” Kunugi responded childishly.
“I need to get you another job. I can’t just send you back to headquarters. You’ve already been given one warning. You agreed to an easy job and this is what happens? It’s as if none of those lessons had any calculable results.”
“I’m no good at studying,” Kunugi replied.
“That’s not good.”
“Does this mean disciplinary action? Even with our staff shortage?”
“Staff means people who serve a purpose, Kunugi. If you were able to produce a report on Yuji Nakamura or Yuko Yabe I wouldn’t have to cut you from this, but until I get further instructions, maybe you should just request some personal time off.”
Kunugi nodded once and said he’d do as you suggest, sir.
The police logo on his monitor disappeared.