Chapter 10: An Unexpected Discovery and a Sudden Confession (Seeking Votes at the Start of the Month)

12:10 A.M.

Ryoichi Fujimoto had been staking out in his car outside Hiroshi Yamamoto’s house for several hours. His eyes were bloodshot as he munched on bread and sipped mineral water, yawning from time to time.

He hadn’t come here tonight with any particular aim; he was simply in a foul mood. Shuichi Aoyama probably had Aya Asai to keep him company tonight, while he had nothing and no one. So, he decided to tail Hiroshi Yamamoto, just to keep himself occupied. Otherwise, whenever he imagined Aya Asai beneath Shuichi Aoyama, twisting in pleasure and charm—well, he felt… ahem, not excitement, but heartache.

Glancing at his watch—nearly half past twelve—he reckoned he wouldn’t get anything useful tonight. He was about to head home, shower, and sleep, planning to start a thorough investigation into Yamamoto the following day.

But just then, the front door of Yamamoto’s house opened.

Hiroshi Yamamoto stepped out, glancing around suspiciously. His furtive manner was highly questionable. Only after making sure the coast was clear did he open his garage and drive off.

Though exhausted, Fujimoto was immediately alert. As soon as Yamamoto’s car pulled out, he hastily swallowed his bread, tossed the water bottle, and quietly followed in his own car.

Slipping out in the middle of the night like a thief—could this guy really be hiding something?

Fujimoto’s heart raced with excitement. He may have lost at love, but perhaps his career was about to take off.

Even at such a late hour, Tokyo’s nightlife remained vibrant. Economic downturn or not, there was never a shortage of wealthy spenders or those intent on squandering what they had. The streets were still busy, making Fujimoto’s tailing less conspicuous. He followed Yamamoto all the way to a bar in Kabukicho.

The bar was crowded. Using the throng and dim lighting for cover, he watched Yamamoto enter a private room, but couldn’t see what happened inside.

One thing was clear—Yamamoto was here to meet someone. Who could be important enough for him to sneak out late at night while suspended from duty?

Fujimoto wasn’t a career-track officer, but getting to be a Chief Inspector by thirty took more than reckless effort; he wasn’t lacking in brains. Brandishing his badge, he found the bar manager and claimed there was an investigation requiring their cooperation—he needed to review the surveillance footage.

Once in the surveillance room, he sent all staff away and began reviewing the tapes alone.

Rewinding to half an hour earlier, he spotted a familiar figure in the grainy footage.

Akihiro Nakayama, Head of the Criminal Division, Shinjuku Station.

Fujimoto stared intently at the monitor as Nakayama entered the same private room before Yamamoto did.

Both men were currently suspended pending the lost gun investigation. They had worked together for years, superior and subordinate. It wouldn’t be strange for them to share a drink in mutual misery, but if it were only that, Yamamoto wouldn’t have acted so secretive before leaving home.

This suggested that, at least subconsciously, Yamamoto considered his meeting with Nakayama a secret. Besides, if it was just for consolation, why meet in the dead of night?

Furthermore, Nakayama was known for fiercely protecting his subordinates, but for a division chief to risk his career covering up something as serious as a lost firearm was excessive, wasn’t it?

Fujimoto’s suspicions grew. He took the night’s surveillance footage with him but didn’t alert anyone.

Twenty minutes later, Akihiro Nakayama, in his thirties and known for his mild manner, emerged from the private room. He didn’t leave immediately but called for the bar manager.

“I’m Inspector Akihiro Nakayama from the Shinjuku Criminal Division. There’s a case that requires your cooperation. I need tonight’s surveillance recordings—take me to them.”

“Um, Inspector Nakayama, didn’t your colleague just collect the recordings a moment ago?”

…

The next morning at work, Aya Asai convened the usual meeting of everyone involved in the gun case to assign tasks for the day.

She had barely begun when Ryoichi Fujimoto interrupted, “Inspector, I have something to say.”

“Go ahead,” Aya nodded.

Fujimoto produced the hard drive with the surveillance footage, and with a grave expression addressed the group, “I think our investigation has overlooked another individual involved in the lost gun incident: Division Chief Akihiro Nakayama.”

The room fell silent, everyone stunned.

“Last night, I surveilled Hiroshi Yamamoto and saw him sneak out to meet someone—the person was Chief Nakayama. I have video evidence.” Fujimoto spoke boldly, glancing at Shuichi Aoyama.

While you’re busy with romance, I’ll outmaneuver you in secret.

The reason for disclosing this wasn’t that he wanted to solve the case alone—he knew he couldn’t. Going solo would only get him in trouble, with no reward and plenty of risk.

Unlike Aoyama, who came from the career track with mentors and senior officers to shield him, whose grave mistake resulted only in a demotion, not even forced resignation, Fujimoto had no degree, no family background, no connections. If he quietly investigated a career-track inspector and failed to uncover anything, he’d be doomed.

Besides, Aoyama’s suggestion to investigate Yamamoto was correct; even if he stayed silent, sooner or later someone would uncover Nakayama’s involvement. Better to share the information and spread the risk—if Nakayama was indeed at fault, he’d be credited as the first to discover it.

The meeting room erupted.

“Are you saying there’s a problem with Chief Nakayama?”

“That can’t be—he’s always been kind, unassuming, and protective of his subordinates. He often helps new colleagues in financial trouble out of his own pocket.”

“Maybe they were just chatting…”

Nakayama’s gentle manner had won him many supporters in the station; everyone instinctively defended him.

“You suspect Chief Nakayama? Do you realize what you’re saying?” Aya Asai asked sternly.

Fujimoto certainly did; the pressure was immense, but he braced himself and replied firmly, “Yes, I suspect him. Chief Nakayama is protective, yes, but as a division head, he understands the gravity of a lost firearm. Would he really risk his career to shield Yamamoto?”

“Furthermore, Yamamoto’s furtive behavior before leaving home suggests he didn’t want anyone to know he was meeting Nakayama. In any case, we need to investigate this thoroughly—to either confirm or eliminate Nakayama as a suspect, right?”

He borrowed Aoyama’s previous logic for investigating Yamamoto—quick to learn and adapt.

Silence fell over the meeting.

No one dared respond.

“I agree with Deputy Fujimoto,” Shuichi Aoyama was the first to raise his hand. Based on Fujimoto’s reasoning, Nakayama certainly merited investigation.

Moreover, a case implicating a division head in murder was far more serious and legendary than one involving an ordinary detective.

Fujimoto hadn’t expected Aoyama to support him first—he’d assumed the man would either object outright or mock him. Surprised, he shot him a glance, then snorted dismissively.

He continued, “Besides, determining whether Chief Nakayama is a suspect is simple—just check if he knew Daisuke Nohara and had contact with him…”

“Knock, knock, knock!”

At that moment, a knock at the door interrupted him.

“Come in,” Aya said without turning.

“Inspector, Detective Yamamoto… Detective Yamamoto has turned himself in. He admits to killing Daisuke Nohara with his service weapon!” a uniformed officer reported upon entering.

Everyone in the meeting room rose to their feet.

Fujimoto lost his composure, striding over to grab the officer by the collar, “What did you say?”

He was about to lose his mind—he’d just raised his suspicions about Nakayama, and now Yamamoto had confessed.

If the case closed like this, how could he survive Nakayama’s inevitable retaliation?

Shuichi Aoyama watched coldly. Yamamoto’s sudden confession only made him more certain that Nakayama was involved.

“That’s enough, Fujimoto!” Aya Asai snapped.

Fujimoto released the officer.

“Aoyama, Fujimoto, come with me,” Aya said to the two men.

Aoyama stood up and replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Fujimoto, shattered, followed in their wake.

As the three left the conference room, the rest immediately began talking all at once.