Chapter 34: Matsushita Makoto’s Deduction
The dim light of the inn’s hallway cast long shadows as Kishida Masayoshi leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning the room one last time. He frowned, his mind racing. If Kagehara Tetsuya really did set up some kind of substance in this room, he had more than enough time to clean it up before leaving. The evidence we’re chasing might already be gone.
Kishida turned to Yomikawa, who stood silently by the doorway, her expression unreadable. “That night,” he began, his voice low and measured, “did you notice any unusual smells in the room? Anything at all? Even the slightest detail could help. I’ll consult forensics to see if it could’ve been a chemical or something else.”
For a brief moment, Tetsuya considered telling him about the strange, almost foul odor he’d noticed at the villa. But then he shook his head, his dark hair brushing against his shoulders. “I didn’t pay attention at the time,” he said quietly. “It’s just… later, I found it strange how easily I fell asleep in that room.”
Kishida’s gaze lingered on him, his instincts prickling. There was something the girl wasn't saying, but he knew pressing her further would be futile. Instead, he shifted his focus. “So, how do you think Kagehara Tetsuya left? This morning, you mentioned you had some ideas.”
Tetsuya pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “My thoughts align with Takamaya-san’s,” he said finally. “Maybe he left through the window. But after seeing the guardrail…” He trailed off, his voice tinged with doubt.
Kishida nodded, his expression grim. It didn’t add up.
Takamaya Yahara, who had been leaning against the doorframe with his usual bravado, let out a loud laugh. “Ha! Yomikawa-san, you think so too? We’re really on the same wavelength!” He crossed his arms, a smug grin spreading across his face. “See, Officer Kishida? Even she agrees with me. You cops should move faster!”
Kishida shot him a withering look but said nothing. He turned back to Tetsuya. “If there’s nothing else, we should go.”
Tetsuya nodded, and Takamaya waved dismissively. “Huh? You’re really leaving? Well, Yomikawa-san, you should visit more often!”
Outside, the cool evening air was a welcome relief. Kishida climbed into his car, but Tetsuya made no move to join him. He rolled down the window, his brow furrowed. “Do you need a ride? I can drop you off before heading back to headquarters.”
“No need,” he replied, his voice firm. “It’s not late yet. I can get back on my own. Thank you for your help today, Officer Kishida.” Before he could protest, Tetsuya gave a slight bow and turned away, his figure quickly disappearing into the shadows of the narrow street.
Kishida watched him go, a knot of unease tightening in his chest. There was something about Yomikawa’s demeanor—something heavier, more burdened—since they’d visited the inn. Was this place more important to her than meeting Ōshima Mana? The thought struck him suddenly, unbidden. He had no proof, no concrete reason to believe it, but his instincts screamed that it was true.
But what did it mean? What was she hiding?
He sat in silence for a long moment, the hum of the city fading into the background as he turned the question over in his mind. No answers came. With a frustrated sigh, he started the engine and drove off, the inn’s shadowy facade receding in his rearview mirror.
.......
Even though the clock had long since passed working hours, the headquarters buzzed with activity. The life of a detective was anything but predictable—when cases demanded it, they worked through the night; when the streets were quiet, they idled in restless anticipation.
Japan’s overall crime rate was low, but their city had become an exception in recent years. Kishida Masayoshi couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a proper day off. Most of his colleagues hadn’t either. The job was relentless, and the cases kept coming.
After parking his car in the dimly lit lot, Kishida didn’t head inside immediately. Instead, he rolled down the window, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the cool night air. A few colleagues passed by, exchanging tired nods and brief greetings.
Just as he was about to stub out the cigarette, an energetic figure came bounding toward him. Matsushita Makoto, his junior, didn’t bother with formalities. She yanked open the passenger door and slid into the seat, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Kishida-senpai, you’re back! Did you get anything useful from Ōshima Mana?” she asked, her voice brimming with anticipation.
Kishida flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “Not really. Nothing major.”
“Is that so?” Matsushita’s gaze fell on the investigation notes lying nearby. She snatched them up and began flipping through the pages. Her eyes widened as she scanned the questions marked with parentheses, each accompanied by the name “Yomikawa Tsuko.”
“Wait—Yomikawa Tsuko? You actually took her to meet Ōshima Mana? And she asked all these questions?” Matsushita’s voice rose in disbelief.
Kishida sighed. Matsushita had overheard his phone call that morning, making her the only one in the department who knew about his plans. “She insisted. Even if I hadn’t taken her, she would’ve gone on her own. I figured it was better to see what she was after.”
Matsushita’s eyes darted across the page as she counted the questions. “This girl really went for it, huh? She asked so many things.” She began reading them aloud, her tone shifting from surprise to intrigue.
“Why didn’t Ōshima Mana change her surname?
How old is Ōshima Mana’s child?
When did she last see Ōshima Masaki besides June 9th?
What were the strange things Ōshima Masaki said during that meeting?
Did Ōshima Masaki have a chance to make a lot of money? What was it, and with whom?
Did Ōshima Masaki borrow money from other relatives?
That’s six questions in total.”
Kishida waited for her to finish before asking, “What do you think?”
Matsushita leaned back in the seat, tapping the notes against her palm. “It’s a bit strange. How should I put it? Well, if I had to say, her questions don’t seem to come from the angle of ‘wanting to know the truth about the case.’”
She paused, her brow furrowing. “It seems Yomikawa Tsuko was more interested in the Ōshima family’s situation and what kind of person Ōshima Masaki was. Especially that last question—if she were investigating the case, she wouldn’t have asked that. Even if Ōshima Masaki’s relatives hated him for borrowing money, it’s not like they’d plot to kill him over it.”
Matsushita’s eyes gleamed as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think Yomikawa Tsuko might have been trying to figure out whether the person her lover, Kagehara Tetsuya, killed was a scumbag or just an ordinary person. If Ōshima Masaki was a scumbag, maybe she’d feel less guilty?”
Kishida cut her off with a sharp look. “Alright, alright, stop making baseless guesses. Objectively speaking, Yomikawa’s questions show that before this, she knew nothing about the Ōshima family or Ōshima Masaki. She also had no idea why Ōshima Masaki was killed.”
Matsushita pouted, clearly annoyed. “This isn’t baseless guessing, okay? It’s meticulous deduction. From a criminal psychology perspective—”
Kishida shook his head, his tone firm. “You don’t understand deduction.”
Matsushita crossed her arms and shot back, “Senpai, you don’t understand women.”
Kishida: “…”
......
The silence between them stretched, awkward and unspoken, until Matsushita broke it with a question. “By the way, didn’t Yomikawa say she wanted to check out the inn? How did that go?”
Kishida leaned against the car, his arms crossed, as he recounted the visit. He described the room, and the way Yomikawa had seemed almost unnaturally focused on every detail. Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “I think, for her, visiting the inn was more important than meeting Ōshima Mana.”
Matsushita’s brow furrowed, her mind already turning over the implications. “More important?” she echoed. Her eyes narrowed as she chewed on the idea. “Is it possible she went there to pass a message to Kagehara Tetsuya? Or maybe it was the other way around—Kagehara left a message for her. Like, they agreed to leave a mark in the room or something...”
But before she could finish, she groaned, slapping her forehead in frustration. “No, that doesn’t make sense. They have phones. They wouldn’t need to go through all that trouble to communicate.”
Kishida watched her with a faint smirk, amused by her rapid-fire deductions and equally rapid dismissals. Matsushita was like a dog with a bone, relentless and eager, even if her theories sometimes veered into the absurd.
She paced a few steps, her hands gesturing wildly as she thought aloud. “What about how Kagehara Tetsuya disappeared? Did she say anything?”
Kishida shook his head. “Nothing. But I’ve pretty much figured out how Kagehara left the inn. I just don’t understand why he did it yet.”
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