Six Four by Hideo Yokoyama

decision. In addition, the detectives had different levels of expertise. Some of those from district had been below par; others, back-up from more remote areas, had been sent from Transport and had no prior investigative experience at all.
    Each day saw the investigation becoming more and more slipshod, reports more hastily thrown together. By the time the management realized the problem, it was already too late.
    They had a huge number of potential suspects whose status was undecided, accumulated like a mountain of sludge behind them. With the passage of time, the investigations were becoming harder to reopen. And, with each year, cutbacks were made to the number of detectives working the case.
    ‘If Osakabe had been there when the kidnapping happened . . .’ Mochizuki said with a sigh.
    Mikami felt himself nod. ‘Yeah.’
    Michio Osakabe had been their greatest general, and Mikami had held him in the highest regard. As a leader, he had been grounded and meticulous, displaying a virtually telepathic ability to communicate his instructions to the rank and file. While hehad only retired from his post as director of Criminal Investigations eight years ago, he had, to the misfortune of the Prefectural HQ, been in Tokyo on secondment to the Criminal Investigations Bureau during the year of the kidnapping.
    The detectives had mourned their loss.
We would have had the kidnapper if Osakabe had still been directing Criminal Investigations, even First Division.
    Backing them up was his almost legendary record of never having failed to close a case.
    And Six Four was only the beginning.
    After Fujimura’s appointment from Administrative Affairs, people immediately began to complain of a sharp drop in results. It hadn’t been until five years ago that Criminal Investigations finally managed to regain some of its vigour, when the post was taken over by Shozo Odate, one of Osakabe’s favourites, but he retired after only a year. From that point on it was fair to say that the post had suffered a run of bad harvests, right up to Arakida, the current director. The next reshuffle wouldn’t happen for four or five years; it was essentially a waiting game until Katsutoshi Matsuoka was promoted from his current roles as chief adviser and chief of First Division. The man who had hidden himself behind the passenger seat in Amamiya’s car during the Six Four kidnapping. At the time, he had been heading up Violent Crime in First Division.
    Matsuoka would use me if he were director.
    Mikami felt uncomfortable that the idea had popped so readily into his mind. There were issues he needed to address now; it wasn’t the time to be looking four or five years ahead.
    ‘If it’s nothing to do with Kenji, what else could have turned him against us?’
    Mochizuki was slow to respond. His eyes seemed to size Mikami up before he spoke again. ‘You’ve got a good idea already, haven’t you?’
    The question caught Mikami off guard.
    ‘A good idea? Of what?’
    Instead of answering, Mochizuki returned to the last question. ‘You remember he had a receptionist called Yoshida? If he’s upset about anything, it’ll be her, not Kenji.’
    Motoko Yoshida. She had taken the kidnapper’s third call in Amamiya’s office. Mochizuki had ignored Mikami’s question, but his curiosity had been piqued nonetheless.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘She was seeing Kenji. How would we put it – double adultery? We had to consider the possibility she was an accomplice, so we were pretty hard on her.’
    Mikami hadn’t known that.
    Still . . .
    ‘Why would that get to Amamiya, though? He didn’t like Kenji; if she was with him . . .’
    ‘Thing is, he didn’t know about their relationship. Motoko lost her parents when she was young, had been through a lot. Amamiya had been a good neighbour, taken her under his wing and given her a job at his company. She was interrogated for days on end, ended up having a nervous breakdown. She quit her job. If Amamiya has a reason to