Chapter Twelve

There were a number of things one could do when trying to distract oneself. Some people cleaned their homes, others spent time with their spouses and not a few lost themselves in physical exercise. For Noboru Sanjoin, walking around in graveyards did the trick. He had headed to Ami Mizuno's grave first, and the fresh flowers on the ground told him that her mother came here every day to remember the child she'd lost. A small candle was burning, shining a light for the deceased girl.

He spent an hour staring at the flowers, at the whiteness of the petals on the green ground, at the small tombstone that read "Ami Mizuno – most beloved daughter". Noboru was sure that somewhere in the city Haruka and the Chief were staring at Hisaya Nigoshi's body, talking to neighbours, leaving no stone unturned to find the photographer's murderer, when Noboru could have easily told them who had done it.

Instead, his feet carried him to Minako Aino's grave, and since the graveyard wasn't a big one, he soon found himself scrutinising the life-sized white marble angel Aino's parents had chosen for their estranged daughter's final resting place. The statue was designed in the singer's likeness, but whoever Aino had been, she certainly hadn't been an angel. From his conversations with Mrs. Aino, Noboru could tell that her daughter had been a stranger to the bitter woman, they had hardly ever spoken, and Minako had never bothered to share her success with her family. Had Mrs. Aino known and loved her child regardless, the gravestone would have been a different one. The image of Minako kneeling in front of Kaitou Ace resurfaced in Noboru's mind, and for the first time, he realised how lonely she must have been. Kaitou Ace was hardly good company, there was something so fundamentally wrong with him that only a really desperate person could take pleasure in having him around. As the morning turned into afternoon, Noboru remained at Minako Aino's burial place and couldn't help but feel that the fresh white carnations on Ami Mizuno's grave were worth more than all the marble in the world.

Feeling his fingers grow numb from the cold, Noboru rubbed his hands together, wondering why he never remember to wear gloves in winter. It was the same with Mamoru, Noboru thought with a wry smile. His partner still wasn't used to not having his wife there to take care of him: his hair was always just a tad too long, his shoes never as polished as some of the married officers', and his gloves spent most of the winter forgotten about on his kitchen table. More than once Noboru that pondered whether not having a grave for Usagi made things harder for Mamoru. Would it help him to have a place where he could put down some flowers for his wife? But fate had been cruel, and the fire had taken all of Usagi away, leaving Mamoru with nothing but his grief.
If you wanted to visit Usagi Chiba's grave, all you had to do was look in the eyes of her husband.

The day progressed, the sun moved westwards on the horizon, and the temperatures dropped below zero. Noboru finally walked back to the parking lot and climbed in his car, but he would not return to the reality of Nigoshi's death just now. There was another grave to visit, another girl to remember. Driving kept his thoughts from the smelly flat he had fled from hours ago, and the only image he allowed to press down on his heart was the smiling face of Makoto Kino, who was so pretty before her killer had burnt beyond recognition. After a drive that was shorter than he would have liked, Noboru arrived at his destination.

Leaving his phone on the passenger seat (there were more missed calls than he cared to count), he headed out and walked down the familiar path to Makoto Kino's grave. The girl's final resting place was almost bare, a simple patch of frost-covered green in the later afternoon sun. Since there were no relatives and Makoto Kino didn't have much money in the bank, a tombstone simply hadn't been in the realm of possibilities. The wreath of pink roses her colleagues had put on her grave during the funeral was still there, but the delicate flowers had lost both their colour and their beauty. They were dry and dead, a sad reminder that time moved on ruthlessly, and that sometimes, people were too busy to remember the ones that had passed away too soon.

Staring down at the withered flowers, Noboru realised that Makoto Kino and he were very much alike. If he died, there would be no family to insist on a flashy tombstone or to put fresh flowers on his grave. There were only colleagues, people who admired him for his sharp mind and liked him for his barking laugh. Would they come to his grave to mourn him after the funeral? Would they take the time out of their busy days to remember him? Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he thought of Mamoru. He was his partner, and certainly his friend. But Noboru didn't want the young widower to be burdened with being the only person to mourn him while staring down at an unmarked grave. A wild gush of wind rushed past and pressed his leather jacket into his back. When the fabric of his shirt touched his wounds, and the pain shot up like a beacon in the sky, he was finally forced to think of the person he'd been running from all day.

Was there anyone to mourn Hisaya Nigoshi? When his mutilated body would be released after the autopsy, would there be anyone to claim him? A father, a sister, a wife? Deep down, Noboru knew this wasn't the case. The young man he had seen on the cold winter morning a few weeks ago had been a loner, both before and after his mysterious transformation from worried and meek to snide and dangerous. There was no doubt in his mind as to who had killed Nigoshi; the tell-tale scratches and welts were the only answer he needed. Beryl had killed Nigoshi, he just didn't know why. But did that mean that Beryl had also slain the girls whose graves he had just visited?

The Hikawa shrine was now firmly in the hands of the homicide division.

Haruka Tenoh had rushed over from Nigoshi's flat, the Chief and Katsurou Hanzo in tow. Mamoru was more than a little surprised that he couldn't make out Noboru's tall form among the hurried policemen, but he had other things to worry about right now. Haruka had never seen the picture of Jirou Koutani Aino had kept hidden in her secret drawer, just as she hadn't been told about the picture of himself with Endymion scribbled on the back. It was for this reason, and for this reason alone that Jirou Koutani was now treated as a witness rather than a suspect by Haruka and the Chief, and Mamoru wondered whether it was too late to tell them about the secret drawer and its mysterious content. Jirou Koutani's statement had just been taken by Haruka, who had now hurried back into the temple to re-examine the crime scene. A young Constable rushed out, almost knocked her down and then disappeared into the woods in a hurried frenzy, no doubt to find a less public place to empty his stomach. Mamoru had only thrown one glance at the body, but even so, he doubted that he could ever forget what he had seen. The location, the black hair and Minako Aino's music left him with no doubt that Rei Hino had finally been found.

Someone had turned the stereo playing Aino's songs off, and for the first few moments, the sudden absence of her voice made the silence of the temple deafening. Fearing he had lost his touch, Mamoru angrily turned around to focus on the man who was the source of all this trouble. Koutani was standing opposite him, as still as a statue, his hand still clutching the red mobile phone, his feet firmly on the ground. His face was ashen, but his eyes betrayed him. They were wide and alert, convincing Mamoru that Jirou was nowhere as shocked as he had made it sound when giving his statement.

"Mr. Koutani, I will need a hair sample and finger prints."

Frowning, Jirou kept staring over Mamoru's shoulder, his eyes firmly fastened on the temple as if he was waiting for someone. "Why? Your partner didn't say anything about that. In fact, she told me that I'm free to go home now."

"I need them because you are linked to two victims in a murder investigation, that's why."

"If you want to know how I came to know Minako, then let's get out of here, and I'll tell you. And perhaps then you can tell me why you are aware of my relationship to Minako when your colleague DI Tenoh is clearly not."

Trying to regain the ground he hadn't even been aware of losing, Mamoru's voice took on an edge. "We will not be leaving this premises unless you've told me what I want to know."

The shrewd look Jirou threw him was like a kick in the gut. It was like interrogating Hisaya Nigoshi all over again. "DI Chiba, you don't want what I have to say on record somewhere. Believe me."

For the first time, Mamoru felt that all the answers he was looking for were right there in front of him, with only Jirou Koutani as their secret keeper. "Why did Aino write Endymion on that picture of me? What does it mean?" Mamoru eventually burst out, blood rushing to his head and fear settling in his stomach like lead. He thought of his wife, and suddenly wondered whether she had only died because of something he had unwittingly done. Was Endymion a code for something else?

"Not here," Jirou answered quietly, and focused his attention on the temple once more.

It was then that Katsurou Hanzo stepped out, the wind tugging at his trench coat. Jirou's eyes widened, and Mamoru turned around to follow the man's look. Hanzo met Mamoru's eyes and inclined his head in greeting before making his way over to the two men. "If you want to talk, then the guy with the silver hair should come with us," Jirou said, his voice somewhat incredulous.
Mamoru narrowed his eyes. "How do you know Hanzo?"

"I don't."
"Then why should he come with us?"
"I told you, I'm not answering any of your questions here. I found a dead girl, I reported it immediately, I made my statement, and that's all I have to say to you in your capacity of a copper. But there are things I can tell you in a private setting, and those things concern the silver guy as well."

"I could force you to talk to me. I could put you under arrest."

The blonde man looked at Mamoru, pity and amusement mingling in his blue eyes. "You really have no idea what you can or can't make me do."

Katsurou was only a few steps away, and Mamoru knew he had to make a decision now. Katsurou had seen the pictures, he would recognise Jirou Koutani immediately and unless he acted fast, that meant an arrest cell for Koutani, an interrogated led by Haruka, and himself once again put on the sidelines, damned to waste his time by looking for some stupid stolen cars.

"Do you know who killed the victims?"

"Yes."

"Was it you?"

"No."

Mamoru stared into Koutani's eyes, and his decision was made.

It was then that Katsurou reached them, pulling a pair of rubber gloves off and putting them in a pocket of his trench. Before he got the chance to introduce himself to Jirou, Mamoru motioned to follow him, and the coroner and the inspector walked until they were no longer in hearing distance of the other man.

"Katsurou, that guy over there is Jirou Koutani. He knew Aino."

The coroner looked at Jirou, and then nodded. "I'll go get the Chief," he said, his quiet efficiency once again on display.

Mamoru shook his head. "No. The Chief doesn't know about the secret drawer yet, and there is something Koutani wants to tells us. You and me, off the record. We won't get him to talk in the police station, so let's play along."

"Are you sure that's wise, Mamoru?"

Before Mamoru could respond, Jirou walked over and interrupted them.

"I know that the two of you always talk among yourselves, but this isn't the right time for it. There is another girl out there, and she is in a lot of danger, so really, you don't have time to weigh the pros and cons of dragging me to the police station."

Katsurou's voice went icy. "Am I to understand this as a threat?"

Jirou rolled his eyes. "No, because a) I'm not stupid, and b) you're tall. So, ready to go?"

Katsurou raised one eye brow. "Anything else that is completely against the rules of our profession that you want us to do for you?"

Jirou smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes. We'll have to stop by Minako's flat on the way to pick up her notebook."

The afternoon was drawing to a close, and taking the sunlight with it. Tonight, there would be no stars visible on the firmament; thick clouds covered the sky like a dirty old blanket. Noboru had driven past the motel in which Beryl was staying, but there was no light in her windows. He didn't dare to get out of the safety of his car to check whether she was still there. She was a monster, a most cruel murderer, and yet, he could feel himself pulled towards her. Gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white, he hit the accelerator and drove off. He wouldn't end up like Hisaya Nigoshi, dead in a puddle of his own blood. The time for hesitation was past.

It had taken them a while to get from the shrine to the city centre, and the hour stuck in the typical Tokyo rush hour traffic was one of the most uncomfortable of Jirou's life. He had been forced to take the back seat, and every once in a while, he caught Hanzo staring holes into him in the rearview mirror. Finally, the coroner pulled over and parked his car in front of the shabby building. The sun was setting, and as the street lights flashed to life, Jirou narrowed his eyes. "This is not Minako's house."

"No, but this is where the notebook is," Mamoru answered and got out, the coroner following on his heels.

The three of them walked into the house, and headed towards the small lift. Jirou was still frowning when they entered it. "Where exactly are we?"

"This is where Hisaya Nigoshi lives, a friend of Aino's," Mamoru answered tensely.

Katsurou pushed the button with the number 4 on it, and the lift set into motion. "Lived, Mamoru. We recovered his body from his flat a few hours ago. I thought Sanjoin would have informed you, he was here." After a second of hesitation, he added: "At least briefly."

Mamoru almost doubled over, surprise and shock taking a hold of him. "Nigoshi is dead? How?"

"He was tortured to death."

Jirou leaned against the wall, and wished for air. The lift seemed to get smaller with each passing second. "That's not good, that's just not good."

Finally, they arrived on the fourth floor, which was deserted save for a lone Constable guarding the door to Nigoshi's flat.

Mamoru greeted him. "Constable."

The younger man smiled. "DI Chiba, Dr. Hanzo. DI Sanjoin got here a few minutes ago, he's already inside."

When Mamoru, Katsurou and Jirou entered the small apartment, they found Noboru sitting on the chair that had held the body of Nigoshi a few hours earlier. Open in his hands was the red notebook.

"Please tell me that this holds all the answer we need," Mamoru said, causing Noboru to look up.

Smiling grimly, Noboru shook his head. "Sorry, mate. We're back to square one."

END of Chapter Twelve.