Miyazaki chuckled. “What happened during the last case? The one with the beige sofa and all that blood. I heard it’s the reason your former partner left.”
Teruo snorted, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “From Superintendent Yoshida, no doubt. Probably in an attempt to keep you from requesting to work with me.”
After a brief hesitation, Miyazaki nodded. “Yes.”
“Thought so. Ishida was assigned to me when he transferred to homicide. Not sure why he switched over because he had no knack for investigating murders. I kept tripping over him during crime scene assessments and had to stop and instruct and re-instruct him what to do and what not to do. It’s expected with rookies, I just have zero patience for it.” He placed a palm on his chest. “That’s on me. But choosing homicide and expecting it to be simple… that’s on him.”
Teruo paused, stubbing the cigarette in the car’s ashtray and grabbing another one from the pack. Just remembering it sent a fresh new wave of frustration through him.
“Then a domestic homicide happened,” Teruo continued. “Middle-aged son killed his elderly parents. Ugly affair.” His face contorted in disgust.
“It was on the news Monday morning,” Miyazaki said.
Teruo shifted in his seat as Miyazaki eased the car to a stop at the traffic lights. Lines of vehicles surrounded them on the congested roads of the capital’s peak hours. A long honk echoed from a car somewhere at the front.
“The son didn’t just stab them and be done with it,” Teruo said. “He carved them open from neck to the stomach. Blood and viscera spread fucking everywhere like in movies. He sliced them on that beige sofa you saw in photographs…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Ishida threw up the moment we arrived.”
Miyazaki’s eyes widened. “In the middle of the crime scene?”
Teruo chuckled at that. “No. He had the grace to vomit in the apartment block’s hallway otherwise I’d have gone ballistic. He was ill the entire investigation. Couldn’t even look at the pictures. I can’t really blame him, though, because that shit turned my stomach upside down, too. But I had to do almost everything myself during the investigation which slowed things down.” Teruo paused, chewing on his lower lip. “He should’ve known what he had gotten himself into. I mean, it’s ‘homicide’ for fuck’s sake.”
“So, this case made him transfer?” Miyazaki asked as he pulled into traffic again.
“Nah.” Teruo puffed smoke through his mouth and nose. “We had an anonymous tip that the son returned to the crime scene. Dumb move, but I’m always grateful for stupidity; makes my job easier. Ishida and I were waiting for backup when we spotted the man. We cornered him, guns out and he gave up easily. But when I holstered my weapon, ready to pat him down and handcuff him, he pulled out a concealed knife and lunged at Ishida. Instead of shooting or at least blocking, Ishida froze. I jumped between them and got stabbed.”
Miyazaki’s eyes trailed briefly to Teruo who pointed at his left shoulder in reply.
“I lost some blood and it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t life threatening, fortunately. Not the first time I got stabbed and probably won’t be the last. But I was pissed. When we returned to the office the next day I went off on him. Maybe too much.” Teruo rubbed at his shoulder again. “But I was counting on Ishida to back me up and react. To shoot. To do something. Anything. As harsh as it sounds, I can’t work with someone who cowers in fear.”
“It’s not harsh, sir,” Miyazaki said. “I agree with you. Perhaps Ishida thought he could do it. We all think we’re brave up to the moment when we face real danger.”
“Yeah, maybe…” Teruo looked at Miyazaki thinking this was a good moment to get some answers about Miyazaki’s superior officer. “I heard you were involved in quite a tough case yourself. Sakai Haruna—the inspector you worked with was killed during a stakeout?”
Miyazaki remained quiet, gaze focused ahead on the road, but his hands tightened on the wheel. Though Teruo couldn’t see Miyazaki properly from his seat, he had the impression a dark shadow crossed his subordinate officer’s face.
“Yes,” Miyazaki finally replied. “We saw our target. She didn’t want to wait for backup. Went inside the warehouse and—” He stopped abruptly and his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “There was an altercation and she was fatally shot in the chest.”
Teruo frowned at the very fast and brief recollection. It was clear Miyazaki was uncomfortable speaking about it, but Teruo decided to press on. “By the criminal?”
“Yes.”
“Who was it?”
Miyazaki shrugged. “Some guy who killed another guy. A local gang problem.”
“Did you personally know the killer?”
The question made Miyazaki glance at him, brows furrowed. “No. How would I know him? Again, it was a local gang issue.”
Miyazaki’s description matched what the superintendent told Teruo. An unfortunate incident resulting in the death of an officer and which obviously affected Miyazaki who had to watch her die. Yet Teruo couldn’t help but wonder who had started rumors that Miyazaki knew the criminal and why.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Teruo said.
Miyazaki’s frown immediately turned into a smile. “Don’t worry, sir. You didn’t.”
The quick switch unnerved Teruo a bit, but everybody had coping mechanisms. Maybe putting on a happy face was Miyazaki’s even if, deep inside, he probably didn’t feel it.
They reached the Ozawa family residence minutes later and parked on the street. It was a one-story house with a tall stone fence and a wrought iron gate. Miyazaki rang the intercom.