“You okay?” Teruo asked, handing Shinji the suit jacket back. “Shouldn’t have gone out there only in a shirt.”
“Just a sec.”
Grabbing the jacket, Shinji ran past Teruo and shoved the bedroom door open, dashing out of the apartment with the officers staring at him curiously. The building’s corridor had windows and Shinji quickly opened one, leaning out, his gaze searching for anyone suspicious. There were a few more officers outside and some neighbors too.
Spinning around, he stared inside the apartment. Fuck, was it one of them? One of the officers? Or one of those outside? Or perhaps the other Shinigami who had called Ishida was even farther away and it just so happened they did it right when… Ishida was about to identify the killer. If he even knew who the criminal was.
That pressure Shinji felt earlier had completely disappeared so whoever it had been, already left. And Shinji had lost the one ghost who could remember the most details about whatever transpired in the past and possible clues about their killer.
“Fucking hell…” he muttered. “Piece of… ugh!” He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white and he drew in a breath not wanting Teruo or anyone else to see him lose it like this.
He was about to go inside when Kojima and Taniguchi rounded the corner. Taniguchi looked positively ill while Kojima patted his back from a distance in a gesture she probably intended to be reassuring but looked nothing like that. Especially as she was typing on her phone.
“Hey.” Shinji approached them.
Kojima startled and straightened up immediately. “I’m not slacking off, sir! Dr. Suzuki ordered me to take Taniguchi to the building’s public restroom. He’s…unwell.”
“Yeah, sure.” Shinji nodded fast. “Listen, have you seen anyone on your way to and from the restroom? Someone other than our officers?”
Kojima shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She frowned. “Why?”
“I saw someone, but not in the corridor,” Taniguchi said, pointing to the window. “A person from the crowd walked around the police cars, looked at the officers and then just dashed away.”
Kojima craned her neck to look outside. “I didn’t see anyone suspicious.”
“You were playing on your phone.” Taniguchi rolled his eyes.
Cheeks flushing a deep red, Kojima backed away, glaring at him.
“What details do you remember?” Shinji asked.
Taniguchi shrugged. “Had a hoodie on. A dark one.”
A hoodie. That was how Yamato described the criminal’s appearance. Coincidence? Or not? Was the criminal so stupid as to wear the exact same clothes? But a hoodie was such a common choice of clothing it was difficult to make something of it.
“Thank you,” Shinji said. “You can return. Apologies for keeping you.”
Taniguchi mumbled something unintelligible, but Kojima smiled widely. “No problem officer Miyazaki. Any time.”
If that had really been their criminal and not just a random person, they had slipped right through their fingers. Hurrying to the officers outside, Shinji asked them to take a look around the neighborhood, hoping they’d get lucky, but knowing the chances of that happening were low. Then he retired to a corner of the apartment block away from prying eyes, frustration and anger making his blood boil, and called Superintendent Yoshida.
“Shinji,” came his answer at the second ring. “How are you?”
“Not good, sir. I need to call in a favor.”
“What happened?”
Shinji rubbed his forehead. “I lost three ghosts.”
“Lost? Well, they usually drift off. I’m sure another—”
“No, sir. I don’t think they drifted off. And I don’t think they were sent to the afterlife, either,” he added, predicting what the superintendent was going to say next.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not, but I have a bad feeling about this. My meeting at the Onmyoryo is all the way next week on Wednesday. I can’t wait until then. Please, help me schedule the meeting earlier. Tomorrow or on Sunday. You have more pull than me in the organization.”
“You know how they are with keeping things in order and on schedule.” The superintendent sighed. “I’ll do my very best, but I can’t make any promises.”