Hotaru made his way out of the conference room a few minutes before the end, leaving Yuto and Kenji to wrap things up. It was obvious nothing more would be said and this was a unique opportunity. He walked quickly down the corridor. A policeman, a grizzled veteran, stopped him.

  “The elevator is that way.” the man said, pointing toward the sign.

  Hotaru lifted his press card and answered:

  “My apologies, officer. I have claustrophobia, and I can’t take the lift, I get panic attacks.”

  The officer looked at Hotaru. He was lanky, frail and, indeed, he seemed close to a panic attack already.

  “Are they done in there?”

  “Not yet, but I couldn’t stay there anymore.” Hotaru answered, looking pale, as if the recollection of so many people crammed into the conference room was traumatic.

  This generation is full of weaklings, the officer thought, scrutinizing the press ID.

  “Come with me.” He said. They walked to the end of the corridor. The stairs were blocked by police tape, which he pushed aside, letting Hotaru in.

  “No photos.” he said.

  “Thank you!” Hotaru said, following the man down the staircase, the very same staircase Kaori had been chased into as she ran for her life just a few hours earlier.

  They went down in silence. The officer had expected questions from the man, but he had remained silent so far, seemingly interested only in regaining his composure. He was walking at a reasonable pace, leaning on the hand rail. However, when they reached the third floor, Hotaru stopped suddenly. He was staring at a bullet hole in the wall. It was at the level of his chest!

  He turned to the policeman, icy steel in his voice.

  “What is that, Mr. Fujita Takeru of the Tokyo Precinct, badge number KR-836?,” pointing an accusatory finger to the bullet hole.

  The officer’s face went white. There was no trace of the weakness Hotaru had displayed so far. He knew he shouldn’t have taken the man through those stairs but it was too late, this journalist could destroy his career with a single news article. Arresting him would do no good, he was at fault. After all, the journalist had asked to take the stairs, but he could have refused, he was the one who had taken him through the crime scene!

  “Look, I will answer your questions, but you have to promise me to keep me out of the news.”

  “You have my word. Now, tell me, why the hell did someone fire a gun in the stair case?”

  “It was Matsuko-san. He chased after the kidnapper in with his gun and fired some warning shots hoping to frighten the man into releasing Kaori!”

  “Warning shots? What kind of absurdity is that? Those holes are chest high! What if Kaori was hit? Has she been hit?” Hotaru’s fury brooked no nonsense and the officer didn’t even think about resisting.

  “No. Thank God no. We have not found blood anywhere, except for a few drops under the window, likely scrapes from the fall.”

  Hotaru looked relieved.

  “Show me.”

  “I can’t. There are inspectors in the corridor, if they saw you, I wouldn’t be able to justify your presence.”

  “Fine. Just tell me what you have found so far.”

  “Nothing much. There are a few bullet holes in the wall of the second floor, and the window at the end of the corridor was destroyed by bullets.” the officer said.

  “Were the bullet holes all at the same height?” Hotaru asked, fuming.

  “Yes. More or less. Apparently, the kidnapper jumped from the window while carrying Kaori.”

  “WHAT? But we are on the second floor!”

  “I know, it’s crazy. Looks like the guy was a monster of a man, but there is no doubt they landed outside under the window, we have found traces of his fall. They rolled all the way to the bushes, then the guy walked away carrying Kaori!”

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  “How do you know he was carrying Kaori?”

  “We have only found a single set of footprints leaving the scene, and it was that of a man.”

  “What’s his shoe size.”

  “This is crazy, I should be arresting you!”

  “Look, we are going to find Kaori and we are going to get her back. I swear on my honor we will get her back safely. You can help or you can get in our way, but if you do, we will crush you. Choose your side carefully.” Hotaru’s voice was barely a whisper, but it was clear and had the unmistakable hardness of determination.

  The police officer inspected his man. His press credentials had been legit, but this was no journalist.

  “Who are you?”

  Hotaru pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it over to the policeman with both hands, but he did not wait for him to read it.

  “So, what’s his shoe size?”

  “29 cm.”

  “Thanks. The official story doesn’t add up. Contact me if there is any news or if you need external help.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t aim warning shots at chest level toward someone running away unless you don’t care if you hit the person. If these shots were fired by Oroshi and the holes are all at the same level, he was trying to kill, not to scare. Also, his wounds don’t make sense.”

  They had arrived at the ground floor. Hotaru bowed deeply and left, leaving a very confused officer holding a black business card with gold engraving. It read, “Kaori Elite Fan Club, Takashiro Hotaru, President.” On the back were a myriad of communication/social media addresses.

  An otaku?

  Wait. More importantly, was the man right? He had accepted Matsuko-san’s story at face value; he had been so convincing—what if he was lying? He promptly backtracked all the way to Oroshi’s room and walked through the corridors, scanning for bullet holes. Now that he knew what to look for, the pattern was obvious. They were indeed all at chest high or lower, and moreover, they were all fired directly into the path that a fugitive would have taken to run away. Those had NOT been warning shots at all. Matsuko-san had aimed and fired at a man carrying his fiancée.

  Was he so confident that he could hit the man and not Kaori, or was he out of his mind of being assaulted and didn’t care who he killed? Or…

  He didn’t like where this line of inquiry was going—this was far above his pay grade. Should he let his superiors know? He decided against it. The ballistic team was sure to come to the same conclusion—that was their job after all.

  He would just keep an eye out for more evidence. What was it the man had said again? Something about Oroshi’s wounds not being right. He had seen Oroshi’s wounds from fairly close. They were unquestionably real. What did the man mean by his wounds “not making sense”? He would have happily dismissed the comment, but Hotaru had been extremely sharp, and his statement had been made with certainty and confidence, as if the point was so obvious it required no explanation.

  He itched to pick up the phone and call Hotaru’s number to ask about this, but he knew he couldn’t do that. It was too embarrassing. He was an inspector, where was his pride if he couldn’t figure out what a civilian discovered within seconds?

  Takeru closed his eyes, picturing Matsuko-san as he had been in that first police conference, his bloody shirt half-torn, black eye, swollen lips, red cheeks. He had taken a trashing all right, and yet something felt wrong. Was it just because of Hotaru’s conviction? Think, you idiot. Think. He had seen Oroshi since, and while the man had changed his clothes, the wounds were still visible, progressing as one would expect, the eye now a deep purple and the cheek swollen under it. He had plenty of experience with wounds and people getting beaten up, he could even work out how many hours took place since a beating by the color and swelling of a victim’s face, and there was nothing wrong with…

  Wait a bloody minute…

  There was either too much damage or too little. The kidnapper had stabbed a guard in the neck minutes before, killing him with a single strike. A professionally executed murder. The knife was not found yet, so presumably the kidnapper still had it. And yet, he had not killed Oroshi, but he had torn his shirt and struck at his face several times, before running away carrying Kaori. Why didn’t he kill Oroshi? No opportunity? But if he caught him by surprise, logically, his first strike should have been with the knife, not bare hands. At the very least, the man didn’t want to kill Oroshi, which didn’t make sense. He killed a guard already. Why not Oroshi too?

  And if he struck Oroshi with bare hands, landing several punches to his face, why did run away dodging bullets? Did he flee from a man he had just knocked down? The kidnapper had to be insanely strong to carry a resisting woman on his shoulder while running away through two corridors and down several flights of stairs, to say nothing of the final jump!

  Takeru didn’t know much about parkour—it wasn’t his generation—but jumping from the second floor was an incredible feat of strength, even for a professional stunt man, let alone done while carrying a woman. A man like that had hit Oroshi in the face several times? Oroshi should have been on the floor, knocked out, not chasing just after them firing bullets!

  Hotaru was right. The more he thought about Oroshi’s story, the less it made sense.

  But what was he supposed to do with that information? It was reasonably well known in the department that Oroshi had forced the former Police Chief to resign and he had de facto made it possible to Fujiki Tomohisa to take his place.

  Accusing Matsuko Oroshi of lying based on speculations and inconsistencies… This was not going to go well for him unless he could find much more solid evidence. He had to find Kaori herself, and once Kaori was found, no one, not even the Police Chief himself, could do anything about her testimony.

  There was no other way.