Newcomer (Kyoichiro Kaga, #2)

by Keigo Higashino

caused by cholangitis, an infection of the bile duct, and in that moment, Naho realized that the person she had most depended on her whole life was now an old woman ridden with disease. When Satoko was discharged, Naho held her grandmother’s hand and said to her: “You took care of me for many years. Now it’s my turn to look after you.” Touched by her granddaughter’s words, Satoko wept loudly. However, their lovefest didn’t last. At first Satoko was willing to overlook Naho’s various domestic missteps, but gradually they started to get on her nerves. Nothing her granddaughter did was right. Satoko criticized her and sometimes barged in and took control of things. Stubborn and quick-tempered, she had no idea how to avoid hurting Naho’s feelings. Unfortunately, Naho’s temperament was similar. “If all you’re going to do is complain, why don’t you just do it yourself?” In no time at all, everything was back to how it had been before Satoko went into the hospital.

What a brilliant observation

times. ‘People who don’t work have no right to eat.’”

at lunchtime the sidewalks were overrun by office workers dislodging food from between their teeth with toothpicks.

“People who choose to come to a restaurant like ours take atmosphere seriously. They love the sight of an apprentice sprinkling water from a bucket. Some kid in jeans squirting water from a hose—where’s the poetry in that?”

Shuhei had drunk beer before, but this beer, which he was having in a Ginza nightclub, seemed to have a peculiarly bitter tang. So this is what the adult world tastes like, he thought.

“That’s not the how police investigations work. We have to sift through every little detail, asking ourselves why such and such a thing occurred. That will eventually lead us to the truth, even if all those individual things have no direct connection to one another.”

Kaga’s hand gave a jerk, and he almost dropped his glass. “Seriously?” “Oh, for sure. He went to hospital for tests years ago. But our Taiji won’t come out and tell the hussy what’s what. It’s partly about not wanting to cut ties with a woman who’s grown to depend on him, but more than anything I think he enjoys the thrill of having a secret love child, even though he knows it’s a lie. He likes to present himself as the great extramarital playboy, but in fact he’s a rather timid little man. My guess is that he’s only slept with that woman a couple of times.” Kaga exhaled loudly. “And that rubbed you the wrong way?” “I wasn’t too happy about it. The fellow thought he was doing such a masterful job of pulling the wool over my eyes. That whole wasabi trick was me trying to punish him. … Like you said, Detective Kaga, it was childish, a practical joke.” “The problem is that your husband doesn’t even know he’s been punished! He’s oblivious to the existence of any wasabi-spiked cake. Nor does he know that the cakes he gave his girlfriend ended up in a crime scene.” “That’s just it, though. How did the cakes get there? I can’t figure it out.” Kaga gave a wry smile and stroked his stubbly chin. “I asked Asami about that. She told me that she gave the box of cakes to the victim. Understandably enough, she didn’t tell me who’d given them to her. She just described him as ‘a good customer of the bar she works at.’” “Why did she give them away?” “That’s because …” Kaga frowned as if u...

Sema sema sema

“He’s a useful person to have on the Matsuya team. Anybody can learn to cook, but the ability to keep secrets is a real asset in a people-centric business like ours.”

Ommaley

He tried discussing the problem with an older colleague at work, but his colleague quickly diagnosed the situation as hopeless. “When a wife and a mother-in-law are at loggerheads, the husband can’t expect to sort things out. That’s just naive.

Here’s what you should do: Hear both women out separately; shut up, listen, and never ever contradict them—that’s just pouring oil on the flames. After you’ve heard what they each have to say, look like you agree, comment on how reasonable their point of view is, and promise to convey their opinion to the other party when the time is right. Then—this is the crucial part—never say a word about it to the other woman. Of course, they’ll hound you, ask you how it went—but you’ll just have to grin and bear it. Divert their anger toward yourself, that’s the only viable solution.” “Doesn’t sound like much fun,” mumbled Naoya.

“Women are complicated creatures, Mr. Yanagisawa. They can appear to be at each other’s throats, when their real feelings are quite the opposite. Or vice versa.

Tall and broad at the best of times, she looked even more strapping

“She did, huh? And she’s the one who named ‘baby’?” “She actually christened him Donkey, but her mother and father said that an English name wasn’t their family style. The two of them started calling him Donkichi, and that’s the name that stuck. For my part, I think he looks like more of a Donkichi than a Donkey.”

clairvoyant?”

From that day on, Koki did all he could to avoid any sort of obligation to his mother. He hated the idea that she saw him as the reason her life had come to nothing. Now, Koki saw things very differently. He no longer believed that Mineko didn’t love him, her only son. The comment she’d made on the phone was the sort of thing anyone might say when they were feeling fed up. Still, she’d been sincere about her desire to start over. That explained why she’d moved to her own place in central Tokyo instead of returning to her parents’ house after the divorce.

Tamiko knew better than to get in the middle of a dispute between a married couple. The best she could do, she decided, was give Mineko a shoulder to cry on.

Be like Tamiko

people.” “I’m sorry.” “My pain is neither here nor there. What I want to know is why this happened. Mineko was such a lovely person. … The police asked me all sorts of questions, but I don’t have any worthwhile

People who’ve been traumatized by a crime are victims, too. Finding ways to comfort them is also part of my job.”

Naohiro had felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. It suddenly dawned on him just how much he had taken his parents’ kindness for granted and how blind he’d been to the realities of life. Tokiko’s letter was full of love, but he could also detect that she was aware of his immaturity.

“I’m not trying to be sarcastic. Ms. Mitsui, convinced that your son’s girlfriend was pregnant, moved to live near him. The minute you were single again, you hired Yuri. In other words, you both wanted the same thing: family. The bonds of family are strong, Mr. Kiyose. You and Koki are family, you mustn’t forget that.”

“A toy store is in the business of selling dreams, so I need to maintain a positive, fun frame of mind. I go out of my way not to hear any negative news. Still, I would like to ask you one thing. What connects the top that was stolen from here to your case? I’m not asking you to go into detail. Did it play a positive part in the case or not—that’s all I want to know.”

They’re always so sure that they’ve grown up under their own steam, without their parents’ support or protection counting for anything.

Of course, the boy was too blind to realize that he’d only been able to develop an interest in something so flaky because of the freedom and privilege he’d enjoyed as a college student.

Koki was living with a waitress by the name of Ami Aoyama. The apartment they shared was registered in her name. Why am I not surprised? thought Uesugi, sneeringly. Like I thought, this kid can’t stand on his own two feet. He just went and found someone else to mother him. If I were his dad, I’d grab him by the scruff of the neck and drag him home kicking and screaming.

“Kids like him piss me off. Think they’re God’s gift to the world when they can’t do a damn thing for themselves. I blame the parents. Kids only turn out like that if they’re not raised right. Some parents are so terrified of their children hating them that they don’t discipline them. That’s a surefire way to turn kids into arrogant little shits.” It was only after Uesugi had come to the end of his rant that he realized he’d overstepped. He cleared his throat. “What’s that fool of a boy done anyway?” he asked. “I tried asking him about his mother’s way of speaking: you know, who she was formal with, who she was more casual with.”

“You’ve put your finger on it, Uesugi.” Kaga leaned toward him. “Doing this job, this is something I think about a lot. When a terrible crime like murder is committed, of course we need to catch the person who did it. But we also need to follow through until we’ve figured out why the crime happened in the first place. Unless we can identify the cause, there’s nothing to stop someone else from making the same mistake. Learning the truth can teach us all sorts of valuable lessons. Look at Koki Kiyose: he learned his lesson, and he changed as a result. Can you think of anyone else who would be better off changing?” Uesugi was using his straw to stir his iced coffee. His hand came to a complete stop. He looked Kaga in the eye. “What are you trying to say?” “I think you know what I’m getting at. Kishida is hiding something from us. Why aren’t you working harder to get him to come clean?”

“I adored my son. No one can deny that—but adoring someone and taking proper care of them are two very different things. If you want to take proper care of your child, you make the choices that will give them the best possible future. I couldn’t do that. I was happy floating on cloud nine, thrilled to have someone to pour my love into.”

“Then, miracle of miracles, my little boy started growing up. Kids can’t stay adorable bundles of cuteness forever. They start causing all sorts of problems. Most dads react by running away, taking refuge behind that convenient old pretext of ‘being busy with work.’ I know I did. When my wife tried to talk to me about our boy, I’d just blow up at her. I never made a serious effort to discuss his problems with her. If she criticized my parenting, I trotted out the line about ‘already having one full-time job’ and deftly shunted all the family’s difficulties onto her shoulders. I wasn’t overly concerned when she warned me that our son was hanging out with a bad crowd. ‘It’s just a phase that any normal, healthy kid goes through,’ I told her. I was determined to look on the bright side. I was deceiving myself.”

Parents have a duty to set their kids on the right path, even if being loathed is the only reward they get.