Read A Midsummer's Equation: A Detective Galileo Mystery Page 15


  “It’s on a boat,” Yukawa said.

  Kyohei’s face fell. “Oh.” He pulled a cushion over and sat down next to them.

  Narumi stood. “I’ll see you later, then,” she said to Yukawa.

  “I thought you might have reconsidered going.”

  “After you’ve given me such wonderful advice? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Yukawa smiled at that, but said nothing.

  Narumi started to leave, then a thought occurred to her. “What exactly did you talk about with your friend from Tokyo?”

  Yukawa’s chopsticks stopped in midair. “You’re referring to the phone call?”

  “Yes. He was calling about Mr. Tsukahara, I’m guessing. Detective Kusanagi, wasn’t it?”

  “You’re curious.”

  “A little, sure. He was our guest. And I heard that Mr. Tsukahara used to be a homicide detective.”

  Yukawa looked up at her. “Curious and well informed. That bit of information hasn’t been in the newspaper.”

  “An old classmate is a local detective. He’s been on the case from the very beginning. He was here around lunchtime yesterday—I think he was still in the lobby when you came back.”

  “Ah, I do recall a young detective there.”

  “So how did you learn about Mr. Tsukahara being a detective? Your friend?”

  “Indeed,” Yukawa replied. “Kusanagi is a homicide detective himself, so he knew Tsukahara, even though they were many years apart.”

  Kyohei sat looking between the two of them, a mystified look on his face. He didn’t appear to be following the conversation.

  “So what does Tokyo think about what happened?” Narumi asked, ignoring her cousin for the time being. “And why did Detective Kusanagi call you about it, Professor?”

  A wry smile came to Yukawa’s lips. “Well, I could tell you why Kusanagi called me, but it’s a bit of a long story. Suffice it to say he just called to see how things were going. Of course, Kusanagi often has ulterior motives for the things he does. Actually, often isn’t quite right. Always is the word I was looking for. He always has an ulterior motive.”

  Narumi furrowed her brows and shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “I rarely do myself,” Yukawa said with a smile. “At any rate, with regards to what Tokyo thinks about this case, I’m afraid I can’t say, because they didn’t tell me. Still, I get the feeling that there are concerns. For example, there’s the question of why Mr. Tsukahara came to Hari Cove. Was it to attend the hearing on undersea resource development, or did he just stop by the hearing, having some other, primary reason for being here?”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe your classmate hasn’t told you, but just before Mr. Tsukahara attended the hearing, he paid a visit to some summer homes in East Hari. Apparently, a murderer who Mr. Tsukahara once arrested had a house there.”

  “A murderer?” Narumi tensed. “Who?”

  “I didn’t get the name. I’ll ask next time I hear from him, if you really want to know.”

  “No.” Narumi shook her head. “It’s okay.”

  “Very well. As for me, I hope that they clear this case up quickly. It’s hard to focus on my work with the local police nosing around and friends from Tokyo calling me all the time. Do you know what accounts for most research delays? Interruptions that have nothing to do with the research whatsoever.”

  He directed the last half of what he said toward Kyohei.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Narumi saw Kyohei nod, as though the professor had spoken some deep truth. Shrugging, she left the dining room and headed back toward the kitchen.

  TWENTY-NINE

  At the Hari Cove police station, the investigative task force was meeting. An investigator from the local prefectural headquarters stood and opened his notebook. “We visited Mrs. Tsukahara last night at her home to ask if she’d noticed anything unusual about her husband’s behavior in the past few months. She repeated what we already have on file about movies he likes, books, and his occasional travel. She also mentioned that she couldn’t be entirely sure how he spent most of his days, because her job as a dressmaker kept her out of the house. We did confirm that there hadn’t been any altercations with anyone from his past or present, nor was the couple experiencing any financial difficulties. She also claims there was never any possibility of an affair.”

  Section Chief Hozumi butted in with a chuckle. “Well, if his wife says so, it must be true.”

  “Er, right,” the investigator continued, “we’re going to be checking on that with his former colleagues, of course. Regarding Hidetoshi Senba, she again confirmed what we already know, that Tsukahara tended to remember everyone he had ever caught, but rarely talked about them. Senba was no exception. We also checked the study, with the widow’s permission, but didn’t find any materials relating to past cases, Senba’s included. It’s worth noting that detectives from the Tokyo PD had spoken to her before we arrived, but she said she told them nothing she hadn’t told us, nor did they take any evidence with them.” The investigator gave a sort of half-bow to the room and took a seat.

  The conference room was lined with desks. In the middle, with their backs to the wall, sat the detectives from the prefectural homicide division. Commissioner Tomita and Chief Okamoto from Hari sat near Hozumi. Neither man looked particularly comfortable surrounded by detectives from the prefectural police.

  Facing them sat several dozen investigators, their desks neatly arranged side by side—the official task force for what they were calling the “Hari Cove abandoned body case.”

  Nishiguchi sat toward the back of the room, listening to the proceedings and occasionally taking notes. It was his first time being involved in such a large-scale operation, and he hadn’t quite grasped yet how all the parts were supposed to work.

  Sitting next to Hozumi, Isobe leaned forward in his chair and scanned the faces in the room. “Any results from East Hari?”

  An investigator from prefectural homicide sitting next to Hashigami stood and related what Hashigami had told Nishiguchi the day before—that Senba’s late wife’s old neighbors didn’t have a bad word to say about the man. He also noted for the record that, though Senba’s sentence had been served, no one had seen him in East Hari after his arrest.

  Isobe turned to Hozumi. “Well? Is Senba still important to our case?”

  Hozumi made a sour face. “It’s hard to say. No one’s been able to track him down, right?”

  “Not yet. He had some relatives down in Aichi, but they say they haven’t heard from him since he went to prison.”

  “No doubt they want to keep it that way, too.” Hozumi tugged at his mustache. “From looking at the report, it doesn’t seem likely Senba bore a grudge against the victim. Still, just in case, we should probably do some questioning around Hari Cove in case anyone has seen someone matching Senba’s description.”

  “Will do,” Isobe said, turning back to the room. “Any suspicious vehicles?”

  Another investigator stood, but the report he gave was largely unhelpful. No one had spotted any unusual activity in the area, vehicular or otherwise. They’d compiled a list of people who said they had seen cars parked that evening, but nothing to link any of them to the murder.

  Isobe groaned and turned back to Hozumi. “Well?”

  Hozumi folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I suppose there’s not much to do but see if we can verify who all those cars belong to, one by one. If someone put him to sleep and poisoned him in a car, that could’ve been done a considerable distance away from where the body was found. We should probably widen the area of our search.”

  “Got it,” Isobe said quickly.

  Nishiguchi sighed and sunk lower in his chair. He had no idea which way the investigation was going to go, but it was a sure bet it wouldn’t involve him. At least he had something to show for the whole thing: his reunion with Narumi Kawahata. Once things settled down, he planned to invite her out to dinner. He’d a
lready started wondering what restaurant he should pick.

  THIRTY

  By the time the Save the Cove group got to Hari Cove Harbor, the DESMEC undersea resources survey boat was already at the wharf. Narumi’s eyes widened. The boat was much bigger than she’d expected.

  “That’s not a boat, that’s a ship,” Sawamura muttered.

  Sawamura parked his truck next to the lone car already in the lot, and everyone got out and headed for the wharf. In addition to Narumi and Sawamura, there were five others in the group who’d been sitting in the back of the truck, among them the couple that had joined Narumi at the bar after the hearing.

  The survey boat was even more impressive up close. Narumi guessed that it measured at least a hundred meters from bow to stern. Size-wise, it could easily compete with a luxury yacht, but from the dirt and wear on the hull of the ship, it was clear not much effort had been put into keeping up its appearances. This was a working ship, complete with a cargo crane sticking off of the deck.

  “I’m impressed they got it into the harbor,” Narumi said.

  “The harbor is naturally quite deep. I hear that’s one of the reasons DESMEC chose it,” Sawamura explained.

  Two men walked over and greeted them. She recognized one of them as Kuwano, from DESMEC’s public outreach office, the emcee on the first day of the hearing. The other, slightly younger, turned out to be one of his subordinates.

  “Thanks for coming today,” Kuwano said, smiling broadly. “We hope you’ll take this opportunity to get a good look at what we’re doing here.”

  On board, they were first shown to the pilothouse, where Kuwano began rattling off facts about the boat’s size, tonnage, maximum speed, and range until Sawamura interrupted him, saying, “We really don’t need to know anything that’s not directly related to the undersea resource development you’re doing.”

  “Right, of course,” Kuwano apologized.

  They walked through the engine room, communications room, and chart room next. The only thing Sawamura showed interest in was a door marked “Salon,” which he specifically requested to see.

  Inside, they found a table, a sofa, a large flat-screen TV, and a media cabinet. The room was large enough for a dozen people.

  “This looks like an excellent use of our tax dollars,” Sawamura said.

  “On long surveys, people might have to spend several months in cramped quarters,” Kuwano explained. “Without a little entertainment, well…” His voice trailed off.

  Next, they were taken to the research rooms, five in all.

  Kuwano stood in front of a row of monitors and control boards. “Room one contains controls for the various sonar systems on board, including our multibeam echo sounder, as well as a side-scan sonar, and the remote control for our winch,” Kuwano explained, a distinct gleam of pride in his eyes. “In order to mitigate the noise from water turbulence, all of the actual sonar equipment is in a special sonar dome positioned toward the center of the hull—”

  “How many times do I have to tell you people?” a voice coming from behind a large jumble of machinery echoed loudly in the small room. Kuwano froze mid-explanation, his mouth hanging open. He blinked and looked around before finally closing his mouth again.

  “Listen,” the voice continued. “I told you there are two ways to wind the coil. Two ways. I even remade the program with that in mind.”

  Narumi peeked around the machinery and saw Yukawa standing across a desk from a DESMEC employee. The desk held a laptop computer, stacks of files, and what looked like blueprints spread out between them.

  “I know that, which is why I tried to contact you, but I couldn’t get through to your cell phone,” the employee was explaining.

  “It broke. Cell phones break. It happens. Why didn’t you call the inn?”

  “I did call the inn. But they told me you weren’t staying there. Something about you canceling at the last minute?”

  “Yes. I’m staying in a different inn, as I informed DESMEC that day.”

  “Well, nobody told me. Why’d you change your reservation anyway?”

  “I fail to see what business it is of yours.”

  “Er, right, yeah,” the man said, grinning sheepishly.

  Narumi felt a hand on her shoulder and looked around. It was Sawamura.

  “Let’s go.”

  She nodded and followed him out. Kuwano showed them the remaining research rooms, then brought them to the upper deck, where he began explaining the various observational equipment on board. A lot of the technical jargon was over Narumi’s head, but Sawamura looked like he was following, and kept asking questions.

  “With the free-fall grab, after it sinks down to the seafloor and gets a sample, the weight detaches so it can rise back up, correct? What happens to the weight? Is it just abandoned?”

  “Yes, but the weight itself isn’t anything that can cause any harm down there.”

  “How can you say that for certain?” Sawamura asked. “I mean, you are introducing something to the environment that wasn’t there before. Especially now, when in so many areas there is widespread pressure to stop dumping into the ocean, I wonder about a plan that involves intentionally abandoning foreign objects on the seafloor.”

  Kuwano frowned. “The relative safety of this method has been globally recognized—”

  “But this is our ocean. Who cares what they might think in France or the United States? This is a decision we need to make here, in Japan.”

  Kuwano grimaced and fell silent. Narumi felt a touch of sympathy for the man.

  Though she might not have caught all of the technical details, it was clear that the DESMEC researchers had been using all of the technology at their disposal to assess and approach this development of a previously untouched and largely unknown part of the world. At times during the explanation, she had even been genuinely impressed by the technology. Maybe Yukawa was right about having to be able to see things from both sides.

  Kuwano moved on, explaining a few of the other monitoring devices before he checked his watch. “That about wraps up everything we have to show you. I want to take you to the conference room and show you some footage we have of one of our test surveys, but it will take a little while for us to get ready. Feel free to walk around in the meantime. Just, please let one of us know if you plan on leaving the deck.” He bowed curtly and left them.

  Though they had been given free rein of the deck, there wasn’t much to do up there. Sawamura sat and began furiously jotting down notes, but most of the others just started milling, unsure what to do. The couple went over by the railing to look down at the water. They were laughing about something. Narumi shrugged and began walking around the deck, looking at some of the devices that had already been explained to her.

  She stopped by two long cylinders that looked like torpedoes with propellers attached to one end. Kuwano had mentioned these too, but she hadn’t quite caught everything he said.

  “Proton magnetometers,” said a voice from behind her. She looked up to see Yukawa walking over. “You drag those along several hundred meters behind the boat. They’re able to pick up extremely faint magnetic abnormalities caused by things like undersea hydrothermal ore deposits.” He stood next to Narumi. “You have a nice tour?”

  “Yes. I heard you arguing with someone downstairs. Was there some mistake?”

  Yukawa grimaced. “Just an incompatibility between the mount they prepared and my coil. For every advance we make, we find two or three new problems. I can understand if delays are an issue of physical phenomena getting in the way, but human error can be a particularly aggravating source.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Narumi said. “How are we supposed to feel safe entrusting our ocean to people who make those kind of mistakes?”

  Yukawa’s eyes narrowed at her, but then he reluctantly nodded. “Unfortunately, I can’t think of any good reason you should feel safe. I’ll mention this next time I talk to DESMEC.” Yukawa turned and looked out over t
he ocean. “Tell me,” he said after a moment, “why does a girl from Tokyo care so much about the ocean out here?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? It’s beautiful.”

  “I agree. I was just wondering if you had some deeper reason.”

  “I think the beauty of the ocean is deep enough.”

  Yukawa smiled. “You were fourteen or fifteen when you moved here, right? Didn’t you ever want to go back home?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Really? I’d think that for a teenager, the city would have a lot more stimulation to offer. Where were you in Tokyo?”

  “Oji.”

  “Ah, up north.”

  “Yeah. Not exactly a stimulating part of town.”

  “A little sleepy, true, but a short train ride from places like Shibuya or Shinjuku.”

  Narumi stared at Yukawa’s face for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “Not every teenage girl dreams of going shopping in Shibuya. Some of them like little country towns with beautiful views of the sea.”

  Yukawa adjusted his glasses with the tip of his finger and stared back at her.

  “What?” she asked after a moment.

  “I don’t think so,” Yukawa said, shooting her an intense look before adding quietly, “That’s not you.”

  Narumi’s eyes went a little wider. “Why not? And how would you know what kind of a person I am anyway?” she asked, her voice a little louder than it should be. She could feel the blood rushing to her face.

  “Narumi?” Sawamura came striding over. “What is it?” he asked, looking between her and the physicist.

  “Sorry,” Narumi muttered. “It’s nothing.”

  Sawamura gave Yukawa a quizzical look. “What did you say to her?”

  Yukawa maintained a cold silence for a few moments more before saying, “I didn’t mean to give offense, but if I did, I apologize.”

  Narumi stared at the deck in silence.

  “Right. I’ll see you later,” Yukawa said, walking off.

  “What’s his problem?” Sawamura spat after he left. “You okay? What did he say to you?”

  Narumi realized she couldn’t stand there frowning forever. She flashed Sawamura a smile. “It was really nothing. Sorry, didn’t mean to worry you.”