ayoi could tell that people were sympathetic and suspicious at the same time, and she felt like a tennis ball being batted back and forth between two strong emotions. But how should a tennis ball behave? She had absolutely no idea.

Inspector Iguchi, head of the Public Safety Division at the

Musashi Yamato station, had been quite sympathetic the night he'd come to say that the palm print on the hand found in the park had been identified as Kenji's, but since then he seemed to have become more suspicious. He had shown up at her door again to tell her they were handing things over to central headquarters, and that they were setting up an investigation unit at the local station, so they'd be needing her cooperation there. His face this time bore little resemblance to the quiet man who had stared out at the tricycle in her garden. The change was chilling, but she knew that these were just the opening moves.

That evening after 10.00 p.m., two detectives, one from the local station and one from headquarters, had come around, and both looked even less reassuring than Iguchi.

'I'm Kinugasa from Central Investigation,' one of them said, flashing the ID in his black leather notebook. He was obviously in his late forties but perhaps trying to look younger in a faded black polo shirt and khakis. His stocky build, thick neck, and closely cropped head made him look more like a thug than a cop. Yayoi had no idea what or where 'Central Investigation' might be, but she knew it was hard not to start shaking now that she was face to face with its representative.

The other man was thin and chinless and introduced himself as Imai, a detective from the local station. He was younger than Kinugasa and he let the other do the talking while he took notes. As soon as they were in the house, they asked Yayoi's father, who had been standing behind her looking worried, to take the boys out somewhere. Her parents had been horrified when she'd called them with the news and had driven in from Kofu that first night. The younger boy was sleepy and reluctant to leave, while the older one seemed almost frozen with tension, but her parents managed to get them both ready and out the door. It was clear that it never occurred to them that their daughter could be a suspect. To them, it was simply as though some terrible accident had happened.

'I know this must be a difficult time for you,' Imai said as soon as they were gone, 'but we need to ask you some questions.' Yayoi led them into the living room. She sighed as they sat down. The ceiling felt lower and heavier than usual. It seemed unfair somehow that she should have to deal with these two serious-looking men, just when she'd got rid of Kenji and his constant gripes and had started life over with her boys.

'What was it you wanted to know...?' she said, her voice trailing off into silence. Kinugasa said nothing for a moment, taking his time to study her quite openly. If he really bore down on me, Yayoi thought, I'd probably give in soon enough. She stiffened instinctively as he opened his mouth to speak, and was almost disappointed when his voice came out higher and gentler than she'd expected, his breath smelling of nicotine.

'If you'll cooperate with us, I'm sure we'll catch whoever did this in no time.'

'Of course,' she said. He looked at her, running his tongue across his thick lips. He's probably wondering why I'm not crying, she thought. She would have liked to oblige, but her eyes were dry.

'I'm told that you left for work before your husband got home on the night of the murder. You must have been anxious about leaving your children alone in the house, worried about a fire or an earthquake?' His narrow eyes grew narrower, and it wasn't until much later that Yayoi realised that this was how he smiled.

'He was always...' She had started to say that he was always late so she was used to it, but she stammered to a halt. If she told them that, they'd realise that she and Kenji hadn't been getting along. 'He was always home on time, but he was late that day for the first time. I was very worried but I went to work. Of course, it made me mad to find he wasn't here when I got back.'

'Why was that?' Kinugasa asked, pulling a brown plastic notebook from the back pocket of his pants and jotting something down.

'Why was I mad?' she said, suddenly annoyed. 'Have either of you gentlemen got children?'

'Yes,' said Kinugasa. 'A daughter in college and one in high school. You have kids, Imai?'

'Yes,' said Imai. 'Two in elementary school and one in kindergarten.'

'Then you can understand how upset I was leaving two little kids alone all night. My first reaction was to be angry.' Kinugasa added something to his notes. Imai sat silently, his notebook open, letting the older man run the interview.

'So you were mad at your husband?' Kinugasa said.

'Of course I was. He knew I had to go to work but he was still late...' Realising that her resentment toward Kenji was on the verge of bursting out, she stopped. 'I mean, I thought he was late,' she corrected herself. Her shoulders drooped, as if it had just dawned on her that he wouldn't be coming home at all. Never mind that you killed him, a voice whispered deep inside her, but she ignored it.

'Yes, of course,' said Kinugasa. 'But had this kind of thing happened before?'

'Not coming home?'

'Yes.'

'No, never. Once in a while he would go out drinking and he wouldn't be home by the time I had to leave for work, but he always hurried back as soon as he could.'

'Most men have to go out once in a while,' Kinugasa said, nodding agreeably. 'And sometimes it gets late.'

'I realised that, and I felt sorry for him. He was always good to me.' Liar! Liar! she screamed to herself. He never once hurried back, and I was always left worrying and wondering whether I'd have to leave the children alone. He knew how much I hated going to work before he got home, but he hated seeing me so much that he stayed away till I was gone. He was horrible!... Horrible!

'Then if this was the first time he'd ever spent the night away from home, why were you angry? I would have thought you'd be worried.'

'I thought he was out having fun,' she said, her voice almost a whisper.

'Did you and your husband fight?'

'From time to time.'

'About what?'

'Usually about nothing at all.'

'I guess that's right. Married people usually fight about the dumbest kind of things. Okay then, could you run through the events of that day for us one more time? Your husband left for work at the normal time?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'And what was he wearing?'

'Just what he always wore, a suit....' As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Yayoi remembered that Kenji hadn't had his jacket when he'd come home that night. Maybe it was still somewhere in the house, or maybe he'd been so drunk he'd dropped it somewhere along the way. She had completely forgotten about it. A feeling of panic mounted in her chest and it became difficult to breathe, but she willed herself to stay calm.

'Are you all right?' Kinugasa asked, his eyes narrowing again. There was something disconcerting about the contradiction between his gruff appearance and his gentle voice.

'Sorry,' she murmured. 'I was just thinking that it was the last time I saw him.'

'It's hard when it happens so suddenly like that,' Kinugasa said, glancing over at Imai. 'We see this kind of thing all the time, but we still never get used to it. Isn't that right, Imai?'

'That's right.' They seemed so sympathetic, but she knew they were just waiting for her to slip up. But she wouldn't! She'd find some way to get through this. She'd been over it all in her head countless times and she knew her part by heart. Still, whenever suspicious eyes were watching her, she felt as though they could see right through to her bruise. Part of her even wanted to bare her chest and expose her pain... but that was a dangerous temptation. She suddenly realised she was wringing her hands as if she were wringing an invisible towel, hoping to squeeze from it the will-power she needed to help her hold out. Will-power was what she needed now if she was going to keep her freedom.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm just not myself.'

'No, no,' Kinugasa said, trying to sound sympathetic. 'It's like this for everybody. We understand how you feel, ma'am. You're actually holding up better than most. Usually, we get a lot of tears and howling, makes it hard to talk.' He waited for her to collect herself.

'He was wearing a white shirt,' she said at last. 'And a dark tie.' Her tone grew clinical and dry as she described Kenji's clothes. 'Black shoes.'

'What colour was his suit?'

'Light grey.'

'Light grey,' Kinugasa said, making a note. 'Do you know what brand it was?'

'I don't know the brand, but we get all his clothes at a discount place called Minami.'

'His shoes, too?'

'No, but I think he got them from another place here in the neighbourhood.'

'Do you know where?' Imai asked.

'It's called the Tokyo Shoe Centre, I think.'

'And his underwear?' Imai added.

'I bought it at the supermarket.' She said this looking down in embarrassment.

'We can go into all that tomorrow,' said Kinugasa, cutting him short. 'We just need the basics today.' Imai looked annoyed but held off. 'What time did your husband leave for work?'

'The same time as always, early enough to catch the 7.45 for Shinjuku.'

'And you didn't see or hear from him after that?'

'No,' Yayoi said, pressing her hands to her face. Kinugasa looked around the room as if he were just noticing where he was. It was strewn with the toys and books the grandparents had brought for the children.

'Where did your folks take the kids?' he asked.

'Out to get something to eat.'

'It's getting late.' Knowing that she'd want to keep the interview private, he glanced at his watch and saw that it was already past 11.00. 'We should probably try to wrap this up.'

'Could you tell us where your husband was from, and where your parents live?' Imai asked, looking up from his notebook.

'My husband was from Gunma. His mother and father should be arriving soon. I'm originally from Yamanashi.'

'Had you told his parents that he was missing?' Imai said.

'No... ' she stammered. 'I hadn't.'

'Why not?' Kinugasa said, rubbing his hands through his short hair.

'I'm not sure. I suppose because the people at his office kept telling me that men did this kind of thing from time to time and that he'd be home soon. It seemed better not to make a fuss about it.' Imai stared at his notebook with a puzzled look.

'But Yamamoto-san, it was Tuesday night when your husband didn't come home, and you had already called about filing a report by Wednesday evening. We actually logged the case on Thursday morning, all of which is pretty quick for this kind of thing. Since you were so quick to tell us, why didn't you call his parents? Wouldn't they usually be the first people you'd talk to?'

'I suppose so, but neither of our families was in favour of our marriage, so I haven't seen much of them over the years.'

'Would you mind telling us why they were against it?' Kinugasa asked.

'I'm not sure I know myself,' Yayoi said. 'I guess my parents made it clear they weren't very fond of Kenji and that made his mother angry....' The truth was that Yayoi had never got along with her mother-in-law and there had been very little communication between them. Even now, she was dreading her arrival and the fuss she would make. Yayoi even wondered whether the hatred she'd ended up feeling for Kenji wasn't due partly to the fact that he was that woman's son.

'But why did your parents dislike your husband?' Kinugasa asked.

'That's hard to say.' She hesitated a moment. 'I'm their only daughter, and I guess they must have had high expectations of the man they wanted me to marry.'

'Probably so,' Kinugasa said. 'Especially since their daughter is such a good-looking woman, if you don't mind my saying so.'

'No, it wasn't that,' she said, as if stating a known fact.

'No? Then what was the reason?' He had suddenly adopted a fatherly tone. Go ahead, he seemed to be saying, you can tell me anything, anything at all. Yayoi had been feeling more and more uncomfortable as the interview had progressed into areas she hadn't anticipated. They seemed to be interested in every aspect of her relationship with Kenji, and they were developing a picture of them as a couple and drawing conclusions from it.

'My husband was fond of gambling before we got married,' she said. 'He bet on horse races, bike races, that kind of thing. He'd even had loans to cover his gambling debts, but he paid them off. My parents found out about it and said they were against us getting married. But he gave it up as soon as we got involved.' The two men exchanged a glance at the mention of gambling, and Kinugasa's next question had a new intensity.

'And recently?'

Yayoi wondered for a moment whether she Should tell them about the baccarat. Had Masako said not to mention it? She couldn't remember. She paused, afraid that if she told them about the gambling they'd find out that he'd been beating her up.

'Go on,' Kinugasa urged. 'You can tell us.'

'Well... '

'He'd started again, hadn't he?'

'I think so,' she said, shivering slightly. 'He mentioned something about "baccarat".' Although she didn't know it yet, this one word would prove to be her salvation.

'Baccarat? Did he say where he'd been playing?'

'I think it was Shinjuku,' she said in a small voice.

'Thank you,' said Kinugasa. 'We appreciate your telling us this. I think now we're sure to get his killer.'

'I wonder...' Yayoi stammered, sensing that the questions were coming to an end, '... do you think I could see my husband?' Neither detective had mentioned the subject of viewing the body.

'We thought we'd ask your brother-in-law to identify him, but I'm not sure it would be a good idea for you to come along,' Kinugasa told her, fishing some black-and-white photographs out of an envelope in his briefcase. He held them close to his chest like a poker hand, and selected one to put down on the table in front of her. 'If you're really considering going, it might be a good idea to have a look at these before you decide.'

Yayoi reached out and gingerly picked up the picture. It showed a plastic bag and a lump of mutilated flesh. The only thing recognisable was a hand - Kenji's hand - with the pads of the fingers sliced off in blackened circles. She gasped, and for a moment she was overcome with loathing for Masako and the others. This was just too gruesome. She knew she'd killed him, and then asked them to get rid of the body; she knew she was being unreasonable. But now that she saw Kenji's disfigured body with her own eyes, she couldn't stop the wave of indignation that swept over her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her face in her arms.

'I'm sorry,' Kinugasa said, patting her gently on the shoulder. 'I know this is hard, but you have to be strong. Your children are going to need you.' The detectives seemed almost relieved to see the tears. A moment later, Yayoi looked up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She felt utterly lost. Kuniko had been right when she'd told her that she couldn't possibly understand. It was true, she couldn't. It had been simpler to tell herself that Kenji had just gone off somewhere.

'Are you all right?' Kinugasa asked.

'Yes, I'm sorry.'

'We'd like you to come down to the station tomorrow,' he told her, standing to leave. 'We've got a few more things to go over.'

'Of course,' Yayoi murmured. There was more? When would it stop? But even now, Imai was looking slowly through his notebook, still sitting there in front of her.

'I'm sorry,' he said, glancing up, 'but there's one thing I forgot to ask about.'

'Yes?' she said, eyeing him through her tears. He studied her a moment.

'About what time did you get home from the factory the morning after your husband disappeared? Could you run through that day for us, please.'

'I finished work at 5.30, changed, and got home a little before 6.00. '

'Do you always come straight home?' he asked softly.

'Usually,' Yayoi said. She was conscious that she still hadn't recovered from the shock of the pictures and needed to choose her words carefully. 'Sometimes I stay and chat with friends for a while, but since Kenji hadn't been back that night, I was worried and came right home.'

'Of course,' Imai said, nodding for her to continue.

'Then I napped for a couple of hours before I took the children to the day-care centre.

'It was raining, wasn't it? Did you take the car?'

'No, we don't own a car, and I don't drive. I take them on the bike.' She noticed another quick exchange of glances. The fact that she had never learned to drive was going to be to her advantage.

'And then... ' Imai prompted.

'I got back here around 9:3 0 and talked to one of the neighbours for a while out by the garbage bins. I did the laundry and cleaned up around the house, and then around 11.00 I fell asleep again. At 1.00, there was a call from my husband's office saying he hadn't shown up for work. I was stunned, to say the least.' As she ran through all this again, the lines flowed smoothly; she began to relax, and she realised how wrong she'd been to resent Masako, even for a moment.

'Thank you,' Imai said, closing his notebook with a snap. Kinugasa had been standing impatiently with his arms folded. As she followed them to the entrance and watched them scuff back into their shoes, she could sense that their suspicions were fading again, giving way to a new wave of sympathy.

'We'll see you again tomorrow,' Kinugasa said before shutting the door behind him. When they were gone, Yayoi looked at her watch. Kenji's mother and brother would be here soon. She swallowed, steeling herself for her mother-in-law's tears. But now she could use her own tears as a defense. This interview with the detectives had been a good rehearsal for what was to come. The tension and confusion seemed to have melted away. Suddenly realising that she was standing just where Kenji had died, she gave a little jump.