Salvation of a Saint by Keigo Higashino Page B

impossible!’
    Kusanagi leaned slightly forward, staring her directly in the eye. ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘Because …’
    ‘Because when you drank coffee with him earlier, nothing was wrong?’
    She blinked, then, after a moment’s hesitation, slowly nodded.
    ‘You see our problem, Ms Wakayama. If Mr Mashiba put the poison in the cup himself, that’s one thing – it would either be suicide or an accident. But the possibility of either of those things is extremely low. We’re forced to consider a scenario in which someone intentionally poisoned Mr Mashiba’s coffee. Traces of the poison were also found in a used paper coffee filter. Our best guess at present is that someone mixed poison in with the ground coffee beans.’
    Now considerably flustered, Hiromi shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything about it.’
    ‘Surely you can at least answer some of our questions? It is extremely important that we know exactly
when
you drank that coffee at the Mashiba household if we are going to be able to determine the time at which the coffee was poisoned. Well?’
    Kusanagi straightened in his chair, staring evenly at the woman across the table, perfectly ready to sit there in silence as long as was necessary.
    Hiromi covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes wandered, unfocused. Then, abruptly, she said: ‘It wasn’t me.’
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘It wasn’t me.’ Her voice was pleading. She shook her head. ‘I didn’t poison the coffee. Really. You have to believe me.’
    Kusanagi and Utsumi exchanged glances.
    Hiromi Wakayama was a suspect, of course, and their most likely suspect at that. She’d had plenty of opportunitiesto poison the coffee. If she was having an affair with Yoshitaka Mashiba, then it was fairly easy to imagine some rift between lovers providing the motivation. Poisoning him, then ‘discovering’ the body, could have been merely an attempt to camouflage her role.
    At this stage, however, Kusanagi intended to avoid any preconceived notions, in order to get as unfiltered a story from her as possible. He had deliberately chosen not to say anything that might sound accusatory. All he had asked was when she had drunk that coffee with Yoshitaka Mashiba. So why
was
she claiming innocence all of a sudden? Was she, in fact, the guilty party? Had she just skipped ahead, anticipating where all this was leading?
    ‘We are not accusing you of poisoning him,’ Kusanagi said, with a gentle smile. ‘As I said, all we’re trying to do is establish the timing. If you met with Mr Mashiba and drank coffee, then can you tell us when that was, who made the coffee, and exactly how?’
    A pained expression rose on Hiromi’s pale face. Kusanagi still couldn’t tell whether she was simply hesitant because she was unwilling to admit she was having an affair or whether it was something more than that.
    ‘Ms Wakayama?’ Utsumi put in abruptly.
    Hiromi looked back up, startled.
    ‘We’ve already made certain assumptions about your relationship with Yoshitaka Mashiba,’ the younger detective continued, with all the indifference of a government official explaining how to fill out a form. ‘You can deny it if you like.At which point, we will have to start asking more questions in order to determine the truth. When we set our minds to it, we can usually bring the truth to light … but as part of that process, we have to talk to a lot of people. You understand?
    ‘I’d like you to give what I just said some thought. If you can be completely honest with us now, we may be able to be a bit more circumspect with our investigation. Say, for instance, if you wanted to tell us something that you’d rather we didn’t repeat to anyone else outside of our office.’
    Utsumi glanced towards Kusanagi, nodding her head slightly.
    Was that her idea of an apology for speaking out of turn?
Kusanagi wondered.
    Her advice seemed to have a remarkable effect on Hir -omi, however.
Perhaps it was easier hearing it from a woman.
She