Chapter 73: This Feels Pretty Good
Listening to Yomikawa Tsuko’s calm, methodical, and deeply unsettling description, a sudden, icy chill crawled up Kishida Masayoshi’s spine, a primal fear that had nothing to do with his professional training.
If her previous, more vague descriptions had conjured up images of ghosts, of yōkai, of things that go bump in the night—a familiar, almost comforting kind of horror—then this new, horrifying theory, the one that collapsed all that supernatural speculation into the solid, tangible, and infinitely more terrifying form of a human predator, was a far greater, far more visceral, horror.
He couldn't help but put himself in her shoes: the torrential, relentless rain lashing against the windows, the vast, empty villa plunged into an absolute, suffocating darkness. And somewhere, in an unknown, unseen corner, a person of unknown name and unknown motive was hiding, waiting, a predator in the shadows, perhaps, for the villa’s lone, unsuspecting occupant to fall asleep before revealing their vicious fangs.
Kishida didn’t know what Yomikawa Tsuko must have felt in that moment of horrifying realization. A normal person, he thought, a normal girl, would have likely fled the house and not returned until morning, if ever. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, his voice filled with a genuine, and deeply unprofessional concern, “Once you were certain that someone had secretly broken into your house, you still didn’t think of calling the police? What if… what if your theory was correct? Then that person was definitely not in your house to pay a simple social call. If they had some… ill intent… and you were sound asleep, you would have been completely defenseless.”
“And that,” Yomikawa Tsuko said, her tone maddeningly nonchalant, “is precisely why I had the locks on my house changed again afterwards.”
“You… you’re unbelievably bold,” Kishida Masayoshi said, utterly speechless. That wasn’t the point, not at all, and she knew it.
“In any case, that is the long and short of it,” Yomikawa continued, as if explaining the most mundane of occurrences, a story she had told a thousand times before. “I came to suspect that this man, Ōkawa Terakado, had secretly entered my home. A private, discreet investigation seemed… troublesome, and inefficient. So, I went directly to his place of work. I intended to confront him directly. It is, you must admit, a much more… efficient approach.” Of course, she would not tell him her true and far more terrifying suspicion: that Ōkawa had captured video evidence of her and Senpai swapping hair, a secret that could destroy her. And she was confident that even if Ōkawa were to be apprehended by the police, he would never, ever, reveal that particular and highly valuable detail. The logic was the same as Hasebe Koichi’s: knowing he might be killed, he still hadn’t gone to the police, because it offered him no tangible benefit. For Ōkawa Terakado, as long as he held onto that video, he held a powerful and potentially very valuable card. If he were to tell the police, he would be left with absolutely nothing.
“I see.” The final pieces of the puzzle clicked, with a satisfying, if somewhat unsettling finality, into place in Kishida’s mind. The mystery of her strange, seemingly random investigation was finally solved. Yomikawa Tsuko’s story, her stated reasons, they were, at least on the surface, plausible. And her methods, her immediate, contemptuous dismissal of the police as a viable or trustworthy option… that was, by now, all too depressingly familiar. “So, you wanted me to investigate the lottery promotion because you wanted to know when Ōkawa Terakado would be returning from his trip?”
Yomikawa Tsuko took a slow, deliberate sip of her now-cold coffee, a faint, pitying, and deeply sarcastic smile on her beautiful, pale face. “No, Officer. I wanted to know if Ōkawa Terakado was lying. If such a lottery promotion ever actually existed in the first place.”
“Eh?”
“Ōkawa Terakado could have been running, couldn’t he?” she continued, her voice a silken, condescending purr. “The moment he realized the locks on my house had been changed for a second time, he would have known that his position was likely compromised. So, the so-called lottery win, the sudden family vacation… it could have all been an elaborate fabrication. A clever, and rather desperate, cover story for his escape.”
“But what I found surprising,” she continued, a note of genuine curiosity in her voice, “is that this man is not a loner, not a solitary predator. He has not only a wife, but also a child. It’s hard to imagine that a man with a family, with a seemingly normal domestic life, could find the time to engage in such… sordid… and time-consuming activities. He must be… a little cleverer than I initially gave him credit for.”
“The next time a situation like this arises, you really should just call the police,” Kishida Masayoshi said with a weary sigh. He took a deep breath. “Although I don’t know what the real truth of the matter is, in this particular instance, Yomikawa-san, your theory is, without a shadow of a doubt, incorrect.”
“Oh?” This fool… this bumbling, incompetent fool… does he actually have the audacity to directly, and with such confidence, refute my reasoning? Yomikawa Tsuko’s eyebrow arched, a flicker of cold, contemptuous amusement in her dark eyes. “And what brilliant new insight has our esteemed officer stumbled upon now? Have you, perhaps, thought of another, equally plausible profession, besides ‘ninja,’ that might fit our mysterious and apparently acrobatic intruder?”
“My profession is a police detective, not a mangaka,” Kishida retorted, a hint of his old, familiar frustration returning. He leaned forward, a new and uncharacteristic confidence in his eyes. “And according to my investigation, Ōkawa Terakado is, by all accounts, a mature, upstanding member of his community. He is well-liked by his neighbors, his friends, and his relatives. His only known vices are smoking and drinking. Burglary, sexual assault… he is absolutely not the type of man who would do such things.”
“Oh, I see. So, the officer is the type who sympathizes with criminals now. How very… gentle of you,” Yomikawa said, her smile turning venomous, her words sharp as a scalpel. “A pity, then, that our poor Kagehara-kun was not afforded the same generous, and entirely unwarranted treatment.”
“This is the result of my own, personal, on-the-ground investigation,” Kishida said, his voice firm, his resolve unshaken. He had, by now, developed a certain and very necessary immunity to her particular brand of psychological warfare. “This morning, I personally visited Ōkawa Terakado’s neighbors. That is what they told me.” He leaned forward, his expression serious. “And another, very important point. If Ōkawa Terakado was trying to escape, he would have absolutely no reason to lie about going to Mie Island. And more importantly, he has a family. To just up and run away, to abandon them… it doesn’t fit the profile of a man like him.”
The more he spoke, the more confident he became. In the past, it had always been him, clumsily, hopefully, putting forth his theories, only to have Yomikawa effortlessly, and with a cool, almost bored amusement, pick them apart. But this time… this time, he finally had the upper hand. And although it was, in a sense, cheating, since he already knew the grim outcome of Ōkawa’s trip, he had to admit… it felt pretty good.
Yomikawa Tsuko’s eyes narrowed slightly. She still didn’t know Ōkawa’s true motive for traveling to Mie Island, but from the look on this fool’s face, from his sudden, almost arrogant confidence, it was clear that he knew something she didn’t.
And that… that was an incredibly, unbearably, irritating feeling. It was as if she were the fool, the bumbling amateur, and he, this incompetent cop, was the one holding all the cards. It was infuriating!
“My, my. The profession of a police officer is truly convenient, isn’t it?” Yomikawa’s voice was a mask of polite, admiring respect. “To be able to so easily, and so quickly dig up information to refute the well-reasoned theories of others.” She gave him a sweet and entirely false smile. “In that case, please, enlighten me, Officer. I am eager to hear your own, undoubtedly brilliant, analysis of the situation.”
Kishida Masayoshi felt a faint blush creep up his neck. “According to my investigation,” he began, trying to sound as professional, as detached, as possible, “Ōkawa Terakado did indeed go to Mie Island for a vacation. His wife and child are there as we speak. They departed on June 24th.”
“As for the lottery promotion you asked me to investigate… I’m afraid there is no official or unofficial record of any such event. And no company or business association on Mie Island has sponsored, or is currently sponsoring, such a promotion.”
“To put it simply, the lottery itself never actually existed. However, according to the sworn testimony of Ōkawa Terakado’s wife, Ōkawa Mina, her husband did, in fact, win a prize. And he did receive a preliminary cash payment of fifty thousand yen. And it was this money, this tangible proof of his good fortune, that convinced him to go on the trip to Mie Island.”
The lottery didn’t exist, but Ōkawa did, in fact, win.
The conclusion, the only possible conclusion, was inescapable. Either Ōkawa had lied to his wife, or…
“Someone lied to Ōkawa Terakado,” Yomikawa Tsuko said, her voice dropping. “Or rather, someone… created… this non-existent lottery promotion, specifically, and exclusively, for him. Because, strictly speaking, he was the only participant. And his chances of winning were one hundred percent.”
And the purpose of going to such elaborate, and costly, lengths, of paying out fifty thousand yen in advance… could only be to lure Ōkawa Terakado to Mie Island.
Kishida Masayoshi nodded slowly, his eyes dark with a dawning horror. “Just as you said. On the night of his arrival on Mie Island, Ōkawa Terakado went out to collect the remainder of his prize money. And since then… he has vanished. And to this day, there has been no word, no information. No sign of life. And no body.”
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