On our way back to the building, a middle-aged man crossed our path. He must have been in his forties, and was dressed casually, with a rolled-up magazine under his arm. And immediately, he came to meet us.
"Hello, can I help you?"
Strange question, which should rather be translated as 'who are you?' and 'what are you doing here?'
Immediately, before I could say anything - and believe me, I probably wouldn't have said much - the detective stepped forward and introduced us.
"We are friends of Munehara-san," she said.
"Oh, the lady who lives upstairs?" Asked the man.
"And you are?" She asked in return.
He quickly ran his hand through his hair, as if to hide his embarrassment. He also squinted his eyes, as if the light coming from the building's lighting was bothering him.
"Ah, excuse me. I'm Yoshikawa Kai, the owner of the residence," he introduced himself, tilting his head forward slightly.
"Nice to meet you, Yoshikawa-san," she smiled.
I inclined my head slightly without saying a word, also to be polite.
"Munehara-san told us that you advised her, when there was a break-in at her home," she added with a natural calm. "We would like to thank you for that."
"Ah, it's nothing, really!" He smiled as he wiped his hands on his pants, before placing them on his hips. "I'm mostly reassured that it didn't go any further!"
"So you're aware of the whole story?" She gasped in astonishment as she raised one of her hands in front of her mouth.
Falsely surprised, of course. What an act.
I wondered why she was lying like that. Was it because her job required her to be discreet?
If so, I would have to tell her how impressed I was. For she was able to lie with impeccable composure.
"Indeed, despite myself..." He answered a little embarrassed.
He seemed not to enjoy talking about the present subject, considering his reaction. Perhaps he didn't like the fact that such a story happened in his residence.
"But tell me, have you thought about tightening security?" asked the detective, pointing behind the owner to the gate condemning the entrance to the corridors of the houses.
"Reinforce the security? Why?" He wondered. "It's not like this guy is going to come back, giving flowers like that... I think he must have realized he was unwanted..."
"Probably..." She conceded, smiling slightly.
What did she mean by that?
At the time, the remark seemed strange.
But already, the man was back to work. He had turned his head, his eyes drawn to something behind us.
"I'm on the way, Yashima-san!" he shouted as he saw an old woman enter the courtyard dragging a fabric shopping cart. Then, turning to us, he quickly added, "Don't hang around here too much at night, sometimes there are some shady people hanging around!"
"Don't worry, we're leaving in a few minutes." replied the detective. "We wanted to make sure Munehara-san was okay, and we drove all the way from Ibaraki Prefecture, so we still have a long way to go back."
"I see... Have a good trip in that case!" He said quickly, before starting to run towards the old woman and her shopping cart.
Once he was far enough away, I allowed myself to ask a question.
"Why lie about who we are?" I asked.
She laughed slightly and patted my back.
"You ask such questions, you!" She said with a smile. "A detective must go unnoticed and not reveal his identity if possible, in order to remain effective in his job."
So, it was indeed to remain discreet that she had lied.
"And you know, we tend to introduce ourselves too easily in our society," she observed, "and reveal everything about ourselves to anyone."
Not wrong. I myself had gotten into the habit of introducing myself even before the other person did. Probably because my job also required me to be in contact with many people.
Perhaps this also explained the fact that his business card did not contain any significant information about him. And therefore, the fact that I still didn't know his name.
This made me all the more curious.
"Well, let's go report to Munehara-san what we've found so far," she said before walking towards the portal.
We had barely returned to the small apartment that already, Mrs. Munehara was pressing us with questions. She wanted to know if we had found anything, if we had any leads, and even if there were any suspects.
The detective calmly answered that the investigation was ongoing, and that all we could do for the moment was to be patient. To wait.
But to wait for what, exactly?
I was a little confused about how she worked. Wouldn't it have been better to try to catch the person who had been watching us on the spot?
Unless she didn't think she could catch him for sure, given the distance that separated us?
Or maybe she wanted to catch him red-handed?
To be honest, I had absolutely no idea what she was thinking at the moment, nor had I been more curious than that. Otherwise, I could have asked her a thousand questions.
But for the moment, she was finishing reading the messages she had received on her phone. And I was perhaps a little offended at being left out of the loop.
Now sitting with the detective beside me, I was starting to get a little lost as I detailed the small apartment for the umpteenth time.
I was reading the titles of the books stored on the small bookcase, in front of which a thin layer of dust had settled on the shelf. They all seemed to deal with advanced subjects such as aerodynamics, physics, or human flow models. Perhaps the client worked as an engineer in a company offering services to the public?
But soon my gaze wandered to another corner of the room, where I could see a large beige leather jacket, carefully hung on a coat hook.
And already I was looking in yet another place.
I wasn't sure why I was so excited; if it was the particular context we were in, or if it was because I was hoping to experience new things.
For Ms. Munehara, however, it was the opposite. She didn't want to see this situation drag on, and even having us in her home now made her uncomfortable. Kind of like she had a bad feeling, I guess.
"What are we waiting for, anyway," I asked in a whisper to the detective sitting next to me.
Meanwhile, night had finally fallen completely over the city, and it was almost impossible to see anything in the dark areas that weren't reached by street lights or the lamps hanging on the front of the building to illuminate the courtyard.
"I need to check something," she said without elaborating further on her answer. Then, turning to me, she added, "But tell me, I find you surprisingly calm. Have you always been like this?"
What a question.
I wasn't the type to express what I felt. And I didn't dare start a discussion either, when I wasn't forced to. So it was normal for me to appear 'calm' to anyone.
And as if she had guessed my sarcasm, she quickly added:
"It's not wrong to be discreet. But I have to admit that I'm really intrigued by you, Nijima-kun," she said, smiling quietly. "I've never seen someone so quiet and willing to follow me around without flinching..."
Ah, that I could explain. Well, not in person.
It was probably greed, combined with desperation, that made me stay with her without question.
She really seemed to be the only lead on my emotions. Weird and intriguing as she was.
"I honestly thought you would stop wanting to 'spend time' with me, with this whole evaluation thing..." She admitted half-heartedly. "But the more I see you behaving, the more interesting I find you to watch. It's refreshing."
Refreshing? What did she mean by that?
"Does that mean you're allowing me to stay by your side?" I asked with a strange choking sensation running down my throat.
"It remains to be seen..." She said thoughtfully. "You still have one more thing to know about me, so you can make that decision."
Because the decision was mine, after all? Wasn't she the one who was supposed to be watching me and sizing me up to accept or not accept that I should be with her? Or maybe I had misunderstood the purpose of her approach?
Maybe it was not only her who was evaluating me; but also me, who had to evaluate her in return?
However, I didn't have time to ask her anything else, as Mrs. Munehara's landline phone started to ring.
It was already close to 9 pm, so I suspected that it was not a salesman, or a friend calling her.
It was probably this call, that the detective was waiting for since a while ago. Because she was already up and in front of the phone, before the client even had time to answer.
But knowing that she was petrified with fear, she probably wouldn't have picked up at all.
The detective waved a finger in front of her lips to ask me to keep silent, and waved at Ms. Munehara to make her come closer.
The latter complied, with reluctance, and once she got to the detective's side, took the phone in hand.
She pressed a button twice, picking up the call and turning on the speaker so that we could hear the entire conversation.
If there was a conversation, to begin with.
For the seconds were ticking away, and no one was talking on the other end.
"H... Hello?" Mrs. Munehara ventured to say.
And finally, a voice answered.
"Are those your friends with you?" A man's voice asked.
Well, not really a 'man's voice'. Maybe a young man's, or even a teenager's. It was a boy speaking, but he couldn't have been very old, which surprised not only me, but also the detective.
But if we were surprised by the voice itself, Ms. Munehara was surprised by the question that was asked.
"H... How?" She managed to say, unsettled.
"Never mind..." Said the voice, ignoring the mental state of the woman she was addressing. "You have to leave. Really leave."
Then, all of a sudden, the call cut off, plunging us into an uncomfortable silence punctuated by a beeping sound from the handset. Evidence that the caller had suddenly hung up.
And almost immediately, Mrs. Munehara fell to the ground, her legs buckling under her. Her nerves had been put to the test, and the detective hurriedly went to get a glass to give her some water.
"I know you're still in shock, and that you're not okay," the detective said as she crouched down next to her client, while the latter took a few sips of water; "but I need to know one last thing."
One last thing? The wording was rather strange.
"Other than today, the person who keeps calling you has never said anything other than 'leave', right?" she asked.
Mrs. Munehara remained silent for a moment, as if the question seemed incongruous and out of nowhere. But she finally nodded her head to confirm this assumption.
To tell you the truth, I felt the same way.
Why was she asking this, knowing that we had already talked about the calls earlier in the evening?
She seemed to want to make sure of something, but what?
The detective then took the glass from her client's hands, and after placing it next to her on the floor, took Ms. Munehara's hands in her own.
"I'm going to solve your case," she smiled sympathetically at her.