Lady Joker, Volume 1 Kaoru Takamura (ereader ebook .TXT) 📖

The woman, who appeared to be Shiroyama’s wife, bowed slowly to Goda. “I’m sorry to trouble you so late at night,” she said. “My son insisted that we call the police—”

“Forgive me for interrupting, ma’am,” Goda said, and he glanced at Officer Sawaguchi.

“I’ve just been informed of what happened,” Officer Sawaguchi said in a low voice, his notepad in hand. “Around 10:30 this evening, a man named Kurata who is a vice president at Hinode called here about a business matter, and she informed him that her husband had not yet returned home. Immediately after, Kurata called back to inform her that, according to the driver, there was no mistake he had departed the office at 9:48 p.m. with President Shiroyama and had dropped him off at his residence at 10:05 p.m. The driver confirmed that he had seen the president go through the gate and walk inside, so it was quite unclear what might have happened. She then called her son, and after hearing the details from her, he made the emergency call at 10:50 p.m. I arrived here three minutes later.”

As Goda listened to this report, the long hand on his wristwatch ticked forward again. 11:10 p.m. Since Shiroyama’s car arrived at 10:05, sixty-five minutes had already elapsed, Goda noted in his mind.

“Ma’am, please tell me your husband’s age, height, weight, and what he was wearing today.”

“He’s fifty-eight. He’s one hundred seventy-three centimeters tall. I think he weighs about sixty-three kilograms, he’s a little thin. What he wore today, let’s see, a dark navy suit, wool vest, black shoes, and he did not bring his coat with him. I believe his tie had a blue and silver pattern.”

Goda wrote this down in his notebook.

“Around 10:05 p.m., did you hear any noise by the gate?”

“No.”

“No sound of the car stopping?”

“Perhaps, but when I’m inside the house I can’t really hear any noises from outside.”

“There has been a string of incidents targeting corporate executives recently, so my father had told my mother not to go out at night. That’s why we installed the SECOM service and doubled the locks . . .” Mitsuaki added.

“Does your husband always unlock the gate by himself when he comes in?”

“Yes.”

“The SECOM alarm is turned off at that time, correct?”

“That’s right. My father always turns on the nighttime alarm system himself when he comes home.”

Goda looked at Officer Sawaguchi. “What’s the contact number for this Kurata?”

“He’s still at the main office, apparently. Here’s the direct number to reach him at night. He’s called here a number of times already.”

Goda looked at the eight-digit number scrawled across the notepad that the officer handed him. “I’d like to borrow your phone,” he said to the son. Mitsuaki immediately offered him his cell phone, but Goda declined and reached for the landline that was on one side of the hall stairs.

He dialed the number from Officer Sawaguchi’s notepad and someone answered immediately.

“Hello, this is Kurata. Has the president returned home?” Kurata spoke in a hushed whisper, as if he had been holding his breath.

“No, not yet. This is Goda from the Omori Police Department. How would you say the president appeared today?”

“Exactly the same as usual. Tonight was the launch for our new product and it was a great success so he was very pleased. I had just seen him off personally in the underground parking lot a little before 9:50.”

He sounded as if he was calmly choosing his words, but the edge in his voice belied his suspicions and fears—the panic he was suppressing showing through. Of course Goda wouldn’t expect him to sound upbeat under these circumstances, but he thought that the man sounded particularly gloomy.

“The driver, how long has he been working for the company?” he asked.

“Going on twenty years. He’s been driving our executives for a long time.”

“Please tell me the name and address of the driver, as well as where to contact him.”

“His name is Tatsuo Yamazaki. I don’t have his contact information, so I’ll get back to you. In any case, please begin your search immediately. You must find the president!”

His composed voice finally gave way to an angry cry. This, Goda thought, sounded much more normal.

“We’ll do everything we can, so please listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you. First, please designate a single contact person for the police on your end, and make sure that person will always be able to answer the phone. Next, for the time being please tell all of the executives in the main office, as well as those in management at the branch offices, to be mindful of any phone calls they may receive at home.”

“Has the president been kidnapped—?”

“At this point, we don’t know anything. It’s possible he’s been involved in an incident, so stay off your cell phones and car phones, as those could be tapped. Now, the police will be in touch shortly so please have that contact person ready.”

Goda hung up first, and then dialed the number of his precinct.

“It’s Goda. Get me CID.” As he said this to the operator, various images began to whirl around the core of his mind, emitting bright flashes of light: the hushed alley he had seen just a few minutes ago; the wall of Japanese andesine stone; the gate with its electronic lock; the ten-meter path to the front door, with the dense towers of shrubs on either side.

“Yes, CID,” answered the officer on duty, whose name was Sakagami.

“It’s Goda. The president hasn’t returned. Around 10:05 p.m. he was dropped off at home in his company car, and the driver saw him enter through the front gate, but he’s gone missing since. Relay all that to the chief and put a call out to every officer in CID. Tell Konno and Izawa to report directly here. Radios and cell phones are prohibited. Everyone else stand by at the department. All activities should be kept strictly confidential. Next, about contacting MPD . . .”

Goda was aware of Mitsuaki’s