Ritsu carried the sports shoulder bag back toward the crime scene, where he saw Hayasaka waiting for him.
Hayasaka looked at the bag in confusion and asked, "What's that?"
"Tatsuya Nagai's tools for tonight's crime."
"Huh?"
Hayasaka froze for a moment, not immediately understanding what he meant. After thinking it over carefully, she exclaimed in surprise,
"You mean Nagai was planning to make a move on Nishitani tonight?"
"Yeah. The bag's full of tools for committing the crime."
"Where did you find it?"
Ritsu pulled the last cigarette from his pack and held it between his lips without lighting it.
"Remember the green paint on the victim's shoulder? I found it beneath a streetlamp that had just been painted and hadn't dried yet."
'What a careful and responsible guy.'
Hayasaka pursed her lips slightly. She really hadn't paid much attention to the paint and had simply assumed the victim brushed against it by accident.
"And you? Did you get answers to the questions I asked you to investigate?"
"Yeah. Nishitani-san was genuinely shocked when she saw the photo album. She said she had no idea she'd been photographed secretly. Judging from her expression, she wasn't lying. She truly didn't know."
The thought of Mikako being stalked by a deranged creep filled Hayasaka with irritation. As a woman herself, she instinctively despised people like that.
Frowning, she continued, "And Nishitani-san used to live in Yokohama. She worked at a Western-style pastry shop there because she wanted to open her own pastry shop someday."
She had worked hard for her dream, only for her life to be completely disrupted by a stalker. She had even abandoned her hometown and moved to Tokyo to escape him.
Giving up the pastry work she loved and taking a job at a family restaurant with night shifts had also been part of avoiding Nagai's stalking. After all, any woman walking home alone at night while knowing a stalker was following her would inevitably feel terrified.
Yet even after all that effort… She still couldn't escape the nightmare.
The nightmare named "Nagai" still existed, slowly gnawing away at her already fragile nerves.
"So Nagai previously lived in Yokohama too? And in order to continue satisfying his obsession with stalking and his twisted idea of love, he followed Nishitani all the way to Tokyo?"
"Exactly. I already called his mother earlier, and she confirmed they used to live in Yokohama. That part's been verified."
After saying that, Hayasaka couldn't help sighing.
If she were put in that situation herself, she'd probably break down too. No wonder Mikako looked mentally exhausted and almost sickly thin.
"Um, Onizawa."
It was the first time she had called him directly by his surname. Ritsu raised a brow slightly and smiled.
"What is it?"
"I want to hire a lawyer to defend Nishitani-san. At this point, it's basically certain she's the culprit. Finding the decisive evidence to convict her is only a matter of time. But this should count as excessive self-defense… so she deserves a lighter sentence."
Hayasaka hesitated as she spoke. She was a police officer. She wasn't supposed to sympathize with criminals.
But she couldn't help feeling compassion in this case. She could even understand the impulse behind Mikako's crime.
So she wanted to help her.
At the very least, she hoped Mikako would spend less time in prison so that when she got out, she'd still have the energy to pursue her dream of opening her own pastry shop.
"The police work based on evidence. Someone like Nagai probably had plenty of enemies. It doesn't necessarily mean Nishitani committed the crime. At this point, we won't find any more clues. Let's call it a day."
"You really think the culprit might not be Nishitani-san?"
"Yeah. It's possible someone else did it. Anyway, enough about that. Let's think about what to eat for lunch."
Even though he knew perfectly well that Mikako was the one who killed Nagai, Ritsu still chose to conceal the truth.
The meaning of justice differed from person to person.
He simply didn't want the tiny flame of hope that Mikako had finally rekindled in her life to be extinguished once again by a bucket of cold water called the law.
"If you're feeling down, want to blow off some steam? How about Antarctic Ramen?"
Ritsu gave her a deadpan look. "That's stress relief for you. For me, it's torture."
He deliberately took out his phone and looked at the screen. After seeing a completely nonexistent incoming call, he hurriedly pressed the answer button.
Unlike his usual unreliable Onizawa persona, his voice became unexpectedly gentle. "What's wrong? Calling me out of nowhere?"
"You're off work? Mm, okay, got it. I'll head over right away."
After hanging up, Ritsu looked apologetically at Hayasaka and smoothly lied through his teeth:
"Sorry, looks like you'll have to eat lunch alone. My girlfriend's off today and invited me out for lunch, so I'll be heading out first!"
"?"
Watching Ritsu run off in a hurry, Hayasaka looked utterly baffled. "When did this guy get a girlfriend? Wait… someone like him can actually get a girlfriend?"
Times really had changed.
Shaking her head, she figured she'd just go eat Antarctic Ramen by herself to improve her mood.
...
There were less than thirty minutes left until 11 AM. Ritsu wasn't going to meet a girlfriend that didn't exist.
Instead, he returned once again to the victim's apartment building. With heavy steps, he arrived at the door to Room 205. After taking a deep breath and straightening his black suit jacket, he rang the doorbell.
Footsteps sounded from inside.
The security door opened, and Miho looked visibly surprised when she saw the young and handsome inspector standing there.
"Inspector? Did you perhaps forget something here?"
Hope still lingered in her eyes. Compared to the question she asked aloud, what she truly wanted to ask was probably,
'Have you found the person who killed Tatsuya?'
"No. Nagai-san, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. Are you available right now?"
"Yes, of course. Please come in, Inspector."
They sat down on the sofa in the living room. Once again, Ritsu politely declined her offer of refreshments.
He didn't want to stay here too long. Getting straight to the point, he said,
"Miho-san, did you know Tatsuya had been stalking a woman?"
Miho froze. After a long silence, she slowly nodded and answered in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz,
"…I knew. The police came to speak with me before, and I did lecture Tatsuya about it."
It was obvious she found the matter deeply shameful. Her son was a stalker despised by society.
"There's something I've been hesitating over whether to tell you, but I think you deserve to know the truth."
Ritsu took out his phone and opened the photo album. Several photographs he had taken were displayed on the screen.
Slowly, he said, "Your son planned to kill the woman he had been stalking tonight. If this incident hadn't happened first, he would've become a murderer."
"!!"
Miho clearly hadn't expected something like this. Her face instantly turned pale. Her weathered hands trembled as she held the phone, looking at the photographs that proved everything was true.
Her cloudy eyes slowly closed, tears soaking her wrinkled cheeks.
When she opened them again, Ritsu noticed something had disappeared from them.
That faint trace of hope.
She understood now that it was her excessive pampering that had led her son down a road of no return.
Miho remained silent for a long time before finally speaking words that genuinely surprised Ritsu.
"Inspector… may I apply to have my son cremated today? I don't want to pursue whoever killed him anymore. I just want to bury him as soon as possible."
"…"
Ritsu gave a bitter smile. "Even without a plaintiff pressing charges, we police still have a duty to pursue criminal responsibility in murder cases."
"I see. I'm sorry… I don't really understand the law."
"It's alright." Ritsu knew very well that this case would eventually become an unsolved mystery.
He stood up and bowed slightly.
"I'll submit a request to the higher-ups for early release of the body. Miho-san, I'll be taking my leave now."
"Thank you very much. You truly are a responsible and good police officer."
A good police officer? How could someone helping a criminal possibly be called a good police officer?
He smiled helplessly without answering.
As he walked toward the entrance, he quietly pulled out a kraft paper envelope. While Miho sat on the sofa lost in grief, he placed the envelope atop the shoe cabinet by the doorway.
Inside was a small token of his goodwill.
And also his hope that Miho, like Mikako, could start her life over again.
----
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