A Cop's Eyes by Gaku Yakumaru Page B

to him.
    But not meeting his gaze, Natsume instead stared at Naka and continued, “The fingerprints we found on the bottle used as the murder weapon matched the ones from the cup and bowl in your tent. You’re the one who killed Mr. Aizawa, yes?”
    Appalled, Masayuki looked back and forth at the two’s faces.
    What was the man saying? There was no way Naka was the—
    â€œYes.”
    Masayuki’s eyes widened at the reply. “Why? Why would you kill Sho?”
    â€œLooking at that guy started to piss me off. You remember that night, don’t you? Calling me a geezer, talking big …”
    â€œBut, just for that … I don’t believe it,” Masayuki appealed to Naka.
    â€œMasa, I told you the other day, didn’t I? Living this life lays waste to your soul over time. If you get that, hurry up and washyour hands of it,” Naka told Masayuki off with a cutting look. Then, staring at Natsume: “You’ve been good to me. I don’t want to cause you too much trouble. I’m ready to go to prison or anywhere.”
    â€œPlease, the truth,” Natsume demanded, meeting his gaze.
    â€œThe truth?” Naka knit his eyebrows.
    â€œYou aren’t Naka, or Yasutaro Nakajima, but rather Yukihiko Motoki, the father of Yukiya Motoki whom Mr. Aizawa killed, yes?”
    Naka shook his head. “Motoki? Who’s that … I don’t even know anyone by that name.”
    â€œYou probably saw the documentary Mr. Aizawa appeared in half a year ago. Even though his face was blurred out, you knew it was him from the tattoo on the back of his hand. Having learned that Mr. Aizawa was living homeless in Ikebukuro, you cast everything aside and chose to be close to him. In Tokyo, you sought out a homeless man your age and appearance and asked him if he wanted to trade places. That person was Yasutaro Nakajima, who’d always lived in Aomori but had come to the capital recently.”
    â€œOn what evidence are you—”
    â€œI have evidence,” Natsume interrupted Naka. “Yasutaro Nakajima has a past, a record of three cases of assault. Running the fingerprints is all it takes,” the detective shut down Naka, who looked dumbstruck.
    â€œNaka. You became homeless on purpose to get revenge on Sho?” Masayuki asked plaintively.
    Naka didn’t try to answer.
    â€œI doubt it …” Natsume spoke instead. “You probably didn’t become homeless intending to kill him. You wanted to know how he was living now, how he’d come to terms with the guilt of having killed your son. Yes?”
    Naka replied with a small nod. “Yeah … I didn’t start livingthis way in order to kill him. If I’d meant to … I’d have tracked him down sooner. How much easier that would’ve been. Since Yukiya was killed, my wife and I bore a pain like our hearts were being torn apart. Even then, we somehow propped each other up and went on living. Times like that, only family who’re sharing the same suffering can support one another.”
    Naka glanced at Masayuki, and Saeko’s face flashed in his mind.
    â€œBut my wife’s been dead for two years now … and when I got sick half a year ago and went to the hospital, they told me that I had lung cancer,” Naka offered up with sagging shoulders.
    Masayuki glanced at Natsume’s profile. The detective was gazing at the man as he told his story.
    â€œThe doctor didn’t tell me exactly how many months I had to live, but I sensed that it wasn’t for long. I’d already lost my wife, my son. I thought about going to a hospice and spending my remaining days there. That’s when, by chance, I found out about that guy from television. At first, I just wanted to witness, before I died, the miserable life of the man who’d killed Yukiya. I started living as a homeless in Ikebukuro and, while looking for that