“No. No trouble.” I hoped that was true.
Rush hour was still in full swing when Fletcher and I left the church, the car idling in the parking lot as Fletcher punched in the address of Haruto Sato’s apartment, finding it on the other side of the city from where we sat. It took ages to get there, and I mostly sat in silence, turning the day’s facts over and over in my head. Aside from the abandoned scarf, we’d found nothing solid to go on, our clues a nebulous pile of intel about various people, none of which was particularly helpful.
Full dark was gathering by the time we reached Haruto’s apartment, though that had been happening earlier and earlier these days, so we still had a few hours to fill before we needed to be at Lena’s gig. Haruto’s apartment lay at the back of a quiet, little neighbourhood, the small building nestled between two much newer and flasher complexes. Judging by the apartment number, his unit was on the leftmost side, the curtains drawn tight across the window.
I parked across the street and stretched as I got out, stifling a yawn behind my hand. DC Barnes sat in a marked car a little way up the road, and I gave him a quick wave, motioning that he could head out. As we approached the building, I looked around to see if I could spot any white vans or suspicious activity, but the entire neighbourhood was still but for a single red car pulling into a drive down the way. From the neatly mown grass and the bushes snipped into the shape of squares, I could tell this was one of those streets where absolutely nothing happened, not even an argument about a missing newspaper. Though I supposed that was what everyone in slasher flicks thought, right up until the killer was in their home.
I rang the doorbell set into the brick wall. “Who is it?” Haruto yelled from within.
“DIs MacBain and Fletcher,” I replied, speaking loudly, so he could hear me through the wood and glass.
“I’ll be right there.” Footsteps thudded down the hall inside, and I backed away from the door so it wouldn’t swing open and hit me when Haruto came out.
“This seems like the kind of neighbourhood where a stranger would be instantly noticeable,” Fletcher said as she glanced around.
“That or everyone’s too wrapped up in their own lives to notice,” I pointed out, and Fletcher shrugged.
The door swung open to reveal Haruto and his wire-rimmed glasses. He had lost the wool coat in favour of a dark blue polo, bands of beads wrapped around one wrist. “You actually came,” he said breathlessly.
“I said I would.”
“Please, come in.”
Haruto pulled the door open more fully to allow us inside, and we stepped into the cramped entranceway one at a time. “I’m sorry to ask, but would you mind taking your shoes off?” Haruto asked, subtly blocking our way further into the house with his body.
“Of course,” Fletcher said, and I struggled to unlace my stiff, heavy boots in the narrow confines of the hall. Then, in our socked feet, we followed Haruto into the kitchen.
His place was neat and clean if a little sparse in decoration. Spices lined the kitchen counter, pressed up against the wall, and a couple of photographs were stuck to the fridge with magnets. A couple of tiny herb pots sat on the windowsill beside a wooden clock carved with tiny, intricate cicadas. The only bit of mess was a stack of papers and books spread across one half of the table, but Haruto quickly straightened them up and moved them aside.
“I thought we would take a look at all your doors and windows to see if anything’s been tampered with, and then you can point out everywhere you’ve seen these vans and this woman,” I explained. I was hoping this wouldn’t take long as I still needed to eat before we went to the Gellions Pub to speak with Lena.
“Thank you for coming all the way out here,” Haruto said, following close behind as I made my way to the back door out of the kitchen. “I know you must be very busy. You said something about another case?”
“A missing child,” Fletcher told him.
Haruto’s face contorted instantly, shock blending seamlessly with guilt as his hand flew to his mouth. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize it was something that serious and time-sensitive. You shouldn’t be wasting that kid’s time checking up on me. I’m sure I’m just imagining things.”
I pulled his back door open and stooped to examine the knob and the lock. They looked like they maybe needed a bit of oil, but they were otherwise fine. “We can’t follow up on our next witness for a couple of hours, and besides, if I say I’m going to do something, I make sure I do it. Your safety is just as important to me. If we look around and find nothing, then you can rest easy. If we do find something, then we’ll know what steps to take next. Either way, it’s a win-win.”
The shock slipped away from Haruto’s face, though most of the guilt remained as if he didn’t totally believe what I said. I turned my attention to the little window over the sink, though it was obviously too small for a person to climb through easily, and they would have upset all the little plants if they’d tried. The window swung open easily, but without signs of tampering.
I quickly checked the window in the laundry room as well but found that the bar that kept it from opening too far was intact.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to scare you or be following?” Fletcher asked as the three of us moved to
