Chapter 79: A Two-Way Rush Toward Each Other — Aoyama Hidenobu and Kinjo Heiji

After leaving Sakai Electronics, Aoyama Hidenobu went with Mrs. Nohara to her home.

The main purpose was to discuss taking a stake in the business.

He was not merely investing; he meant to buy in at the bottom.

“Please, Mr. Aoyama, have a seat. I’m going to take a shower and change my clothes,” said Mrs. Nohara, pouring him a glass of water. After a slight bow, she turned and went upstairs.

Aoyama Hidenobu nodded, carried his glass, and wandered aimlessly around the living room as he drank. Only then did he notice that Mrs. Nohara had once again laid her late husband’s photograph face down.

Unbelievable. How could this be allowed?

Their affair was merely something that could not be shown to people, not something that could not be shown to ghosts. Why be so sneaky about it?

It made him look as though he had something to hide.

At most he was weak in the kidneys; his conscience, however, was perfectly sound.

Aoyama Hidenobu set the photograph upright again.

“As a junior entrant, I’ll toast you, a senior who was here before me, with water instead of wine. Your wife is excellent. I’ll drink first; you do as you please.” Lifting his glass toward the smiling portrait of Nohara, he tilted back his head and drained it.

Because she did not want to keep Aoyama Hidenobu waiting too long, Mrs. Nohara, who usually spent a great deal of time bathing, had only thoroughly washed the necessary areas today. She changed into a pale blue kimono and came downstairs, just in time to see Aoyama standing before the re-erected photograph of her deceased husband.

Looking at her husband’s smiling face in the picture, she felt a sudden flutter of panic, along with shame, guilt, and a little embarrassment. “Mr. Aoyama, what are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just discussing driving technique with Mr. Nohara.” Aoyama answered carelessly. As a seasoned expert in probing matters of intimate depth, he was never ashamed to ask questions. “Who does the lady think has the better driving skills, me or Mr. Nohara?”

Mrs. Nohara’s pretty face immediately flushed. She did not answer, but lowered her head and went to sit on the sofa.

“Madam, you’re the one most qualified to speak. Between me and Mr. Nohara, who is really better?” Aoyama pressed on, walking over and drawing her into his arms.

“Mm...” Mrs. Nohara lifted her face. Her beautiful eyes were glossy, as though they could spin silk; her full red lips were tender and lustrous, parting slightly as she whispered with shy reluctance, “He... he can’t get there.”

“Hm?” Aoyama blinked, then understood and praised her. “Madam, you really know how to answer.”

“Eek... Mr. Aoyama...” Mortified to the point of collapse, her cheeks red as a boiled shrimp, Mrs. Nohara burrowed into his embrace and hid her face. Beneath the hem of her kimono, her black-stockinged feet fidgeted restlessly, her toes curling inward with force.

Aoyama Hidenobu gently patted her head.

At once, Mrs. Nohara understood his meaning. She cast him a look full of allure; then her body softened like water and slid down until she was kneeling on the carpet, looking up at him with a gaze as tender as melting silk, her eyes half-lidded and dripping with seduction.

Looking at that enchanting face before him, Aoyama Hidenobu suddenly felt that currying favor with Hiko Kawabe was not such an intolerable thing after all. If he groveled before others, it was only so that more people might one day grovel before him.

In this world, every person who seemed to stand in glory might, in the shadows, be bowing to someone else. Like a food chain, one link clasped to the next, with no one above it all.

At that moment, his thoughts were sublimated to a higher plane. He felt his philosophy rivaled that of the greatest masters and scholars.

While Aoyama Hidenobu was busy with Mrs. Nohara, Jinjo Heiji was also busy with him. After breakfast, he went to see Kitano Kyoka, who was in detention.

“I know it wasn’t you who killed her,” Jinjo Heiji said, looking at the dispirited Kitano Kyoka across from him.

A little color returned at once to Kitano Kyoka’s vacant eyes. He looked up at Jinjo Heiji, but soon dimmed again. “No. It was me.”

“What are you so afraid of, Kitano? I’m here to help you!” Jinjo Heiji rose so abruptly that he slapped the table, seized Kitano Kyoka by the collar, and said, “Do you really mean to carry the stain of a murderer and rot in prison for the rest of your life? Why won’t you even try to trust me? Can the outcome get any worse than it is now?”

From Kitano Kyoka’s reaction just now, he was even more certain that Mikami Masako had absolutely not been killed by him.

This was the judgment of a veteran policeman.

Hearing Jinjo Heiji’s words, Kitano Kyoka seemed moved, yet still hesitant and uncertain.

“Tell me everything. You need not worry about anything else; I will help you. If I succeed, you can wash away the stain of being a murderer. If I fail, you lose nothing.” Jinjo Heiji’s tone softened as he released Kitano Kyoka’s collar and said gently, “Please, try it, Kitano.”

“I... I’ll only tell you, but I won’t change my original statement, and I won’t admit I said any of this to you,” Kitano Kyoka said, pressing his lips together.

Of course he did not want to go to prison, and he knew very well that his chances of overturning the case were slim. But if there was even a sliver of hope, he wanted to struggle for it.

Jinjo Heiji nodded repeatedly. “Good. What we say today will pass only from your mouth to my ears. No third person will ever know. Please, go on, Kitano.”

“It all begins with Mikami Masako accompanying the head of the criminal investigations division at Akasaka Police Station...” Kitano Kyoka swallowed and began to speak in a dry voice.

“...That’s how it was.”

After hearing him out, Jinjo Heiji was thrilled. He had known there was more to it than met the eye. Aoyama Hidenobu had forced Kitano Kyoka to confess in order to solve the case and help Watanabe Shuzaku cover up a scandal. That was criminal conduct, plain and simple!

But he soon calmed down again.

At last he truly felt Kitano Kyoka’s helplessness, and understood why he had been willing to plead guilty.

Because this was a dead end. It was indeed despairing.

The skin tissue left beneath Mikami Masako’s fingernails matched Kitano Kyoka’s DNA, and with Ayano Ayaka’s testimony added to it, both witness and physical evidence were indisputable.

Even if he told Hattori what Kitano Kyoka had just said, the other man would not believe him. Instead, he would think he had fabricated the story to frame Aoyama Hidenobu.

Kitano Kyoka had taken in every change in his expression and gave a self-mocking smile. “Now do you understand, Inspector Jinjo, why I confessed? At the very least, I can suffer a little less physical pain. It also shows a cooperative attitude, which may let me beg the judge for leniency at sentencing.”

What he regretted most now was that, after taking the photograph that night, he had not closed the door behind him when he left.

If only he had been calmer, less panicked, and had not fled in such disarray, he would not have ended up like this.

“Heaven leaves no man without a road. I will do everything I can to help you, Kitano. Please wait for my good news.”

Exhaling heavily, Jinjo Heiji took his leave of Kitano Kyoka and headed straight for the scene of the crime.

Because the case had not yet gone to trial and been decided, it was not considered closed, and the site was still sealed and preserved.

Jinjo Heiji recalled certain details of the scene.

From the traces and the method, the killer had clearly been a first-timer. He refused to believe no clues had been left behind. As long as he could prove that a second person had been present at the scene on the night Mikami Masako died, he could apply for a renewed investigation.

And once Kitano Kyoka’s guilt was shown to be in doubt, then people would believe what he said. If Ayano Ayaka was not foolish, she would also recant. Then, if the two of them told the press that their confessions had been forced out by Aoyama Hidenobu, Aoyama Hidenobu would be finished for good.

As for him, Jinjo Heiji, he would become the brilliant detective who vindicated wronged citizens and exposed his superior’s unlawful deeds. Both fame and profit would be his. What a splendid outcome.

At noon, under a blazing sun, a young man wearing a gas company uniform, with a work bag slung at his waist, pressed the doorbell at Jinjo Heiji’s home.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice came from the intercom.

“Good day. I’m from the gas company, here to inspect gas safety,” the young man said in a warm tone.

“All right, please wait a moment.”

A short while later, the yard gate was unlocked. The young man pushed the door open and stepped inside, where he saw a neat-looking young wife standing on the front steps waiting for him. He bowed at once. “Madam, I’m sorry to trouble you.”

“Oh no, it’s we who are troubling you. Please, come in,” Mrs. Jinjo said politely.

“Thank you.” After changing his shoes, the young man entered the house and looked around. “May I ask where the kitchen is?”

“This way, please.” Mrs. Jinjo gestured to lead the way.

Once in the kitchen, the young man thoroughly inspected the gas pipes, then came out and said to Mrs. Jinjo, “Everything is fine. Just make sure to ventilate the place regularly.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” Mrs. Jinjo said, bowing.

“No trouble at all. It’s my job.” The young man offered a genial smile, then frowned and said, “Might I use your restroom?”

“Of course. The toilet is this way.” Kind-hearted Mrs. Jinjo naturally would not refuse, and led him there herself.

The young man remained in the bathroom for about ten minutes before coming out again and bowing to Mrs. Jinjo. “Thank you very much, kind lady. I’ll take my leave now.”

No scene straight out of a cheap film unfolded.

“All right. Please go carefully on your way,” Mrs. Jinjo said as she saw him out, never noticing that the once-bulging work bag at his waist had become much flatter than when he had arrived.

That evening, Jinjo Heiji returned home after spending the whole day at the crime scene and finding nothing. He collapsed onto the sofa, his body weary, and frowned in thought.

He felt certain the scene held traces he had not yet discovered, and decided to continue searching tomorrow.

After all, he did not need to go to work tomorrow either.

“Darling, you’ve worked hard today. Have some tea to soothe your throat,” said Mrs. Jinjo with a gentle smile, offering her husband a cup on a tray.

Jinjo Heiji took it and drank a sip.

Then the doorbell rang.

Mrs. Jinjo quickly set down the tray, rose, and went to the intercom by the door. “Hello?”

“I’ve come to visit Inspector Jinjo,” said a voice.

Mrs. Jinjo looked back at her husband. Only after he nodded did she unlock the villa gate.

Then she opened the front door and waited on the steps.

“Madam, I’m sorry to call so late at night.”

“It’s no trouble. Please, come in.”

Before long, Jinjo Heiji saw a middle-aged man with a protruding belly enter, carrying two gift bags. He was sure he did not know the man.

“Inspector Jinjo, pardon the intrusion. This is my business card.” The man entered the living room, set the gift bags on the table, and bent over to hand over his card.

Jinjo Heiji took it and glanced at it. It belonged to the owner of a bar. “What do you need?”

“Oh, nothing much. My new shop has just opened, and I do hope Inspector Jinjo will look after me in the future.” The man bowed and scraped, shamelessly obsequious, and presented one of the gift bags. “These are a little local specialty from my hometown. Please do accept them.”

Jinjo Heiji opened the bag and glanced inside. It was filled with neatly stacked American dollars. His face immediately turned cold. “I didn’t realize your hometown was in America.”

The middle-aged man smiled in mild embarrassment.

“Take the money and go!” Jinjo Heiji snapped.

The man’s face stiffened. “It’s only a small token of goodwill, Inspector Jinjo, no need to—”

“I said take it away! If you’re here as a guest, come empty-handed next time.” Jinjo Heiji was utterly unmoved.

The man stared at him for a moment, then could only awkwardly take back the dollars and hand over the other gift bag. “Then at least you should accept this one.”

Jinjo Heiji opened it and saw that it contained only a bottle of liquor, and not even an expensive one. His expression eased somewhat. “Thank you for your gift.”

After all, he could not afford to be completely discourteous.

“I was truly presumptuous today. Please forgive my rudeness. I’ll come again another day to apologize properly. I should be leaving now.” The middle-aged man picked up the dollars and departed.

Jinjo Heiji was not incorruptible; he simply never accepted money from strangers of unknown origin.

Who knew whether the money was clean?

What if it were some trap laid for him?

These days, even bribery had to be handled through the right channels. You might dare to offer it, but many people would not dare to take it.

After driving off the fat man who did not understand the rules, Jinjo Heiji went back to pondering how to bring down Aoyama Hidenobu.