Teruo pointed at the wire on the screen. “Look at the way it’s wrapped. It’s so… precise. Even the ending knot with the pet tag. It wouldn’t have been possible for the murderer to wrap it so well around the throat while the victim was conscious. He would’ve fought back.”
“Then something else knocked him unconscious,” Miyazaki echoed Teruo’s thoughts. “There don’t seem to be any visible wounds on the vic’s head, unless he was hit from the back.”
Another freezing draft swept by and Teruo pulled his coat closer. Dark clouds hovered in the sky, threatening to bring down more rain. The crime scene needed to be covered up to preserve any remaining evidence.
“A chemical agent?” Miyazaki said, interrupting Teruo’s thoughts. “A sedative or a paralytic?”
Teruo nodded. “Yeah, it’s a possibility. Only Suzuki will be able to confirm after the autopsy.”
Miyazaki glanced behind him for a brief second, then his gaze returned to Teruo as the wind picked up again. “A syringe, for example, is easy to hide compared to an object large enough to knock someone out.”
“Syringe,” Teruo repeated, contemplating. He took Miyazaki’s phone and zoomed in further on the wound. He didn’t like the meticulous way the wire was wrapped, and the pet tag. It reeked of pre-meditation.
Teruo gestured to the silver pet tag. “What do you make of this?”
“It definitely signifies something to the murderer,” Miyazaki replied. “The whole thing looks like a dog’s collar.”
“Yeah,” Teruo agreed. “It does.”
Some of the bitterness over the superintendent’s threat dissipated as he spoke with Miyazaki. At least he was eager to work and he didn’t wait to be ordered around. It was premature to form an opinion, but Teruo was curious to see if those letters of recommendation had exaggerated or not. And he hoped to find an opportunity to inquire about Miyazaki's reason for leaving Chugoku Shikoku Regional Police and moving so far away from home.
Teruo stood and Miyazaki followed suit. “Did you notice anything else before I arrived? I saw you over the yellow tape, looking at something.”
“I wanted to ask the forensics to widen the perimeter, so I checked the area to see if it’s worth the effort.”
Teruo narrowed his eyes. “First you have to seal off an area to avoid contamination of possible evidence and then sweep it, not the other way around.”
For a second, Miyazaki seemed lost. Then he gave Teruo a little smile and chuckled. “Oh, I spoke with the forensics and they said there’s no need to extend the perimeter, so I thought of just having a look myself.”
“Uh huh, I see.” Teruo nodded. When he had arrived, Miyazaki wasn’t checking for evidence. He’d just been resting against a tree appearing to be talking to himself.
Miyazaki’s attention turned to the grove, his stare piercing the trees like they’d done him wrong. Teruo traced his line of sight, but saw nothing besides the autumn breeze dancing through the leaves.
“May I examine that area one more time?” Miyazaki asked. “Just in case.”
“Sure,” Teruo said, deciding to play along. “I’ll speak with the forensics, see if Suzuki’s going to get here soon.”
Miyazaki gave him a curt bow, then took a pair of rubber gloves from one of the technicians, and stepped over the yellow tape, walking deeper into the grove. He crouched, seeming genuinely interested in finding some hidden clue in the mud. Teruo wasn’t buying it, though he couldn’t quite justify his own apprehension. He should’ve been grateful he had a partner to work the case with. Perhaps the Superintendent’s threat looming over his head made him more tense than usual.
That had to be it. Stress.
He went to the forensic he’d spoken to earlier. “Has that officer—” He nodded to Miyazaki “—asked you or your co-workers to widen the perimeter?”
“No,” she replied after giving Miyazaki a glance.
Just then, Miyazaki straightened as if he’d seen someone, but quickly returned back to the wet ground and leaves. His focus, though, was faltering and he kept looking up, his mouth moving as if he was whispering. Teruo frowned, not sure what to think of it. Maybe it was a nervous tic.
Now you’re finding weird reasons to dislike him.
As if to mess with his head some more, Miyazaki stood and a breeze wafted through the air, making his hair and his jacket swing gently. Teruo squinted, not sure if he could trust his own eyes.
The goddamn wind appeared white but before he figured out whether he was hallucinating from exertion, it was gone.
CHAPTER 3
Shinji
The jogger’s ghost paced in front of Shinji, mumbling something almost unintelligible. Shinji caught “can’t believe I’m dead” among the words shot at rapid-fire. Then he’d stop, stare at his own body lying on the grass and start mumbling again. Shinji could only imagine what a horrible feeling it must’ve been for spirits to look at themselves and realize they weren’t alive anymore and never would be.