Chapter 41: Not Yet, Not Yet

April 14th. Weather: Light rain.

I made the trip to deliver Kagehara Kenta’s late-night meal today. And, while I was there, I took the opportunity to acquire a scalpel.

Honestly, the security protocols at hospitals are laughably weak. The prevailing assumption, I suppose, is that no one would ever think to come to a place of healing to perpetrate a crime. Thanks to this quaint, sentimental mindset, my acquisition of the necessary tool went completely, and predictably, unnoticed.

While it is true that I possess similar instruments at home, using one of those for the actual deed would present certain… unnecessary risks. In any case, a hospital is a large, chaotic place. And a single scalpel is hardly a critical, or even noteworthy piece of medical equipment. As long as it is not taken directly from an active operating theater, the disappearance of one or two would never be registered.

The only remaining logistical problem is, where should I store it?

If I leave it in my room, there is a non-zero probability that Kagehara Kenta might discover it. But carrying it with me is inconvenient; the school, with its tedious and arbitrary regulations, conducts occasional, random bag checks. If it were to be discovered, it would lead to… troublesome questions.

After careful consideration, it seems the only viable option is to store it at the chosen location beforehand. As long as I select a sufficiently concealed spot, the chances of it being found and taken by some random third party are minimal.

Which reminds me, I should also begin to finalize my consideration of the location for the act itself.

The Makeup Hunter, my unwitting mentor, has always adhered to a clear, methodical pattern: first, the kill; second, the processing of the body; and third, the disposal of the remains.

Therefore, to avoid raising any suspicion that this is a mere copycat crime, I, too, must adhere to this same precise, three-act procedure. That is to say, the location where the body is eventually discovered must not be the primary crime scene.

This presents me with two possible strategic scenarios.

First, I commit the act here, at my house, and then dispose of the body elsewhere.

Second, I commit the act at a remote, secondary location, and then move the body to a tertiary disposal site.

Analyzing the variables, the second option is clearly, strategically, superior.

If Tanaka Erika were to inform her family before leaving her house, with a simple, innocent statement like, “I’m just going over to the Kagehara’s to play,” then my involvement would be instantly and irrevocably exposed. An unacceptable risk.

I possess the ability to operate a motor vehicle. The family has a car. With the aid of certain simple tools, such as a foldable, wheeled trolley, and given Tanaka Erika’s small, slight, almost frail frame, the disposal of her body should not present a significant logistical challenge.

With that in mind, the premier location for the act itself becomes obvious: the abandoned, and conveniently isolated chemical warehouse in the Takao Nichōme district. As for the final disposal site, the abandoned flood control warehouse in Mitsuba should suffice.

Tanaka Erika and I have, on several past occasions, visited that chemical warehouse to… play. It was always her suggestion, her idea. If I were to be the one to propose a visit this time, she would be unlikely to refuse.

The only remaining problem, the final variable to be controlled, is how to prevent her from revealing our planned meeting to anyone else.

It seems I must approach this from the perspective of her own motivation. The reason for our meeting must be something she would not want others to know about. Something secret. Something… just between the two of us. If I can successfully plant that idea in her mind, then the final prerequisite for success will have been met.

However, she is not an easy person to deceive. This will require careful, meticulous, and nuanced, consideration.

Speaking of which, I wonder, what pretexts did the real Makeup Hunter use to gain the trust of those other girls? I truly, genuinely, wish I could consult him on the matter. A masterclass from the original artist would be… invaluable.

But I digress. That is a problem for another day. The next immediate task is to procure the necessary cosmetics.

There are no other women in my household. After my mother’s passing, no one in my family expected, or desired for me to choose the same profession as her. Therefore, a sudden, unexplained purchase of a large quantity of cosmetics would undoubtedly be viewed as… strange. An anomaly. And anomalies attract unwanted attention.

What brand, what specific price range of cosmetics does that one, my target, typically use? This is another critical point I must consider. It would be a great and deeply irritating shame if every other aspect of my plan were executed with flawless precision, only for this single, seemingly minor detail to expose me.

Additionally, there is the practical matter of finances. To purchase a sufficient quantity and variety of cosmetics, I will likely have to work at my tedious part-time job for at least half a month. Starting from today, that means the earliest I could reasonably act would be sometime in May.

To have to endure her presence for so long… it truly is a profound nuisance.

......

April 17th. Weather: Overcast.

I have just completed a practice run of the specific technique, utilizing a canine specimen. Only the first half of the technique, that is – the flaying of the face.

In actual practice, the reality of the procedure is quite different from what I had imagined. Certain aspects are far more technically difficult than I had anticipated, while other parts, to my surprise, are remarkably easy.

The key to success, I believe, is not manual dexterity, but the maintenance of a state of absolute, unwavering, psychological calm. The technical skill required is not as high as I had previously thought. One must simply pay close, meticulous attention to the treatment of the areas around the eyes and nose. Of course, there is a significant anatomical difference between a canine and a human nose, but humans also possess nostrils. It is obvious that this will remain a technical challenge to be overcome.

However, looking at it from another angle, it is also entirely possible that my own innate technique is simply… too refined. Even though this was my first time performing this specific act, the vast reservoir of skills I have accumulated over the years was a great help.

Of course, even with my considerable, natural talent, I cannot afford to become complacent. That one, the original artist, has repeated this act eight times. Even if he was a rank amateur at the start, with so much accumulated, practical experience, his technique must now be very, very polished.

And, more importantly, he has been operating directly on human subjects. The difference between a canine face and a human one is… quite significant. I will, I believe, need to practice at least four or five more times to ensure there are no discernible flaws in my final execution.

So, then… what kind of dog should I select for the next trial?

......

April 19th. Weather: Clear.

Finally, a clear day. I can only hope that the weather does not present any… unforeseen complications… on the day of the main event.

As for the matter of the cosmetics, I have had a sudden, clarifying insight. In truth, if I simply put myself in the mindset of the Makeup Hunter, and then work backward from the known results, the answer becomes perfectly, elegantly obvious.

The cosmetics he uses must be from a relatively common, and therefore, affordable brand.

Let us hypothesize, for a moment, that the Makeup Hunter comes from a very wealthy family. He would surely realize that using overly high-end, luxury cosmetic products would immediately expose the fact of his affluence, providing the police with a crucial, and narrowing, profiling characteristic. He has not been apprehended after all these years; therefore, he must have considered this very point during his first, inaugural crime.

Conversely, the cosmetics cannot be from an excessively cheap, bargain-basement brand either. That would be too easily suspected, the traces of deliberate concealment, of a calculated attempt to obscure his true status, too obvious.

I am aware of a rather crude technique the police sometimes employ, which they call “psychological profiling,” or criminal profiling.

If one were to create a profile of the Makeup Hunter, one would likely arrive at a simple, if somewhat broad, conclusion: this individual possesses strong, almost preternatural counter-surveillance skills, and is highly educated. At the same time, he is likely well-spoken, or possesses a deceptively charming appearance. He is skilled at disguise, and is very, very calculating, making it easy for him to gain the trust of others.

A person of this type is highly unlikely to be living in a state of extreme poverty.

Therefore, if he were to use overly cheap cosmetics, it would immediately raise suspicion. It would be a tell. What was he trying so hard to hide?

Of course, the above are merely my own preliminary speculations, formulated on my way home from school today. There are, I am aware, numerous online forums dedicated to the obsessive discussion of the Makeup Hunter case. If I were to conduct a focused, systematic search, I could probably locate a thread in which the specific brands of cosmetics used on the victims are discussed at length. I shall… endeavor to visit an internet café after my part-time job on Sunday and look into it.

And there, with that final, mundane entry, the diary came to an abrupt, and deeply unsatisfying, end.

Kishida Masayoshi stared at the screen, stunned, his thumb repeatedly, uselessly, clicking the ‘next’ button, only to see the images on the small screen cycle back to the very first, taunting page.

The April 8th entry was by far the longest, spanning four pages, four separate images.

Next was April 14th, two pages, two images.

The entries for the 19th and 17th were both a single, concise page, one image each.

Eight images. That was the entirety of the ‘portion’ of the diary that Yomikawa Tsuko had deigned to give him.

He had been filled with such high, almost desperate hopes. He had thought that he would finally, finally, uncover the truth behind Tanaka Erika’s brutal murder. And in the end, she had only given him… the prelude. The opening act.

It was like a cruel game of sun-dome - being led right to the very edge of revelation, only to be left with absolutely nothing. It was infuriating!

Fuming, his hand trembling with a mixture of frustration and a strange, lingering excitement, he dialed Yomikawa Tsuko’s number. 

“Why?” he practically yelled into the phone the moment she answered. “This isn’t a ‘portion’ of the diary! This is just the goddamn beginning!”