Chapter 65: On How the Police Can Effectively Reduce the Crime Rate

Akasaka Police Station was located in Akasaka 4-chome, Minato Ward. Aoyama Hidenobu sped all the way in Mrs. Nohara’s white BMW, reaching his destination in just twenty minutes. After getting out of the car, he headed straight for the station’s main hall.

A young plainclothes officer quickly approached him and bowed. “Inspector Aoyama, you’re here. I’m the one who called you just now. Please, come with me.”

“What exactly happened?” Aoyama followed him inside, asking as they walked.

His sister-in-law had always been kind-hearted; it was impossible for her to hurt anyone on purpose. There had to be more to the story.

The plainclothes officer replied, “She stabbed the victim with a knife. The victim is currently in surgery at the hospital, getting his wounds stitched. Although Mrs. Aoyama claims the victim tried to assault her and she stabbed him in self-defense, the incident happened in a blind spot with no surveillance. The only eyewitness, the florist owner, said she didn’t see the victim attempt to assault Mrs. Aoyama—only saw her stab him with the knife. So, it’s a difficult case.”

Aoyama Hidenobu frowned. If that was truly the situation, it would indeed be complicated—but not impossible to resolve. So he remained composed and said, “Thank you.”

That bastard shouldn’t have been the one to get hurt.

Damn it!

“You’re welcome.” The officer stopped in front of an interrogation room and bowed slightly. “Mrs. Aoyama is inside. I’ll wait for you out here. Speak with her first, then I’ll take you to see our division chief.”

Aoyama nodded, pushed open the door, and immediately saw his sister-in-law inside, her face pale, lips pressed tight, eyes full of anxiety and confusion.

“Hidenobu!”

Hearing the door open, Seiko Aoyama looked up. The moment she saw it was Aoyama Hidenobu, she broke down in tears, finding her anchor at last. She rushed into his arms, clinging to him and sobbing softly.

“Hidenobu, I’m so scared,” she whimpered.

Though she was his sister-in-law and usually treated Aoyama like a child, she was, in the end, just a young woman unaccustomed to hardship.

“It’s all right. Everything will be fine,” Aoyama reassured her, feeling her trembling form in his arms and catching the faint fragrance of her hair as he gently patted her back.

After a while, Seiko calmed down, embarrassed as she released him and took a step back. “I must have caused you trouble. I—I didn’t mean to really hurt him, just wanted to scare him. He wouldn’t stop and tried to grab the knife, and then… it just happened.”

Her head was bowed, tears falling before words could form, her small hands tightly clutching the hem of her white skirt—like a child who had done something wrong and feared punishment.

“It’s not your fault. With men like him, you have to fight back—no matter the cost. I’d rather have to clean up the mess after you hurt someone, than hear you were the one who got hurt.” Aoyama placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his tone solemn.

Seiko was moved to tears once more.

Aoyama sighed and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. “Didn’t you call my brother? Why did the police contact me directly?”

“I… I did,” Seiko’s expression became awkward and she lowered her head, hiding the disappointment in her eyes. “But he was at an important dinner. Before I could finish, he hung up. That’s why I had the police call you.”

“He’s certainly busy,” Aoyama said with a forced smile, then openly criticized his elder brother, “But maybe it’s better he doesn’t know. He’d be more worried about how this might affect his prospects than about you.”

Not that he had much of a future to begin with.

Seiko bit her lip and said nothing.

“All right, tell me exactly what happened,” Aoyama said, helping her to a seat and moving his own chair beside hers so she wouldn’t feel pressured.

Seiko nodded, composing herself before speaking slowly. “The man is the shop owner’s son. He’s always looked at me inappropriately, but never went too far. Today, while I was arranging flowers, he suddenly tried to hug me. I dodged and scolded him, but he kept coming closer, unbuckling his belt and saying awful things.”

“Panicked, I grabbed a flower knife to warn him off, but he lunged to grab it. In the struggle, I don’t even know how, but the knife ended up in his stomach.”

“The victim is the florist’s son?” Aoyama raised an eyebrow, then added, “The owner claims she didn’t see him try to assault you.”

“That’s right,” Seiko nodded, brushing aside a lock of hair. “She wasn’t in the shop at the time. When she came back, all she saw was her son covered in blood on the floor. Then she called the police.”

“Okay, I understand. Just wait here for now. I’ll go talk to the head of the Criminal Division,” Aoyama said, rising to leave.

“Hidenobu!” Seiko called anxiously, “Will I… will I go to jail?”

“Nonsense. Just wait here and go home with me later,” Aoyama replied with a reassuring smile.

Seiko sniffled and nodded.

Only then did Aoyama exit the room.

“Inspector Aoyama,” the officer who had been waiting outside immediately stubbed out his cigarette, stood at attention, and bowed.

Aoyama nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir!” The officer led the way.

“Inspector Aoyama, this way please.”

Outside an office, the officer signaled Aoyama to wait, then knocked and announced, “Chief, Inspector Aoyama has arrived.”

“Send him in.”

“Yes, sir!” The officer opened the door for Aoyama and then closed it behind him.

As soon as Aoyama entered, a man in his thirties of average build and slightly dark skin approached him with a smile.

“Inspector Aoyama, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Osamu Watanabe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Chief Watanabe, you flatter me. I’ve long admired you as well,” Aoyama replied, even though he’d never heard of the man before—commercial flattery worked both ways.

After some mutual compliments, the two men sat on the sofa while Watanabe offered tea, saying, “I know you’re anxious, so I’ll get straight to the point. The problem is, there’s no evidence that the victim, Yamamoto Sho, tried to assault Mrs. Aoyama. But there’s solid evidence that she stabbed him.”

“I’ve delayed the formal filing for now. If you can convince Yamamoto Sho not to press charges, I’ll have the report deleted and all evidence destroyed. It’ll be as if nothing happened.”

“That’s the simplest solution. That way, you won’t have to exhaust yourself trying to prove Mrs. Aoyama acted in self-defense. Even if you succeed, the whole affair would become a public spectacle—not good for you or your brother.”

Aoyama was surprised by Watanabe’s directness and the bold offer of assistance.

Who says only our country relies on personal connections?

As if people abroad don’t do the same.

As long as you’re human, you can’t escape it!

“I used to work under Superintendent Asai. We’re all on the same side here.” Watanabe grinned, then joked, “The economy’s bad; crime is rampant and the rate is terrifyingly high. If we don’t file this case, in a way, we’re actually helping lower the crime rate and contributing to national stability.”

Clearly, he knew exactly how to make the numbers look good.

If the filing rate is low, doesn’t that mean the crime rate drops? And the clearance rate rises? With just a little manipulation, both the police’s competence and the country’s stability are showcased.

The public doesn’t know the truth anyway—they only see the official statistics.

“As a police officer, it’s my duty to reduce crime,” Aoyama said with a straight face.

Watanabe was momentarily taken aback, then burst into laughter. “Well said, Inspector Aoyama. Let’s keep in touch. Go settle things with Yamamoto Sho as soon as possible, so Mrs. Aoyama can go home. She must have been terrified.”

His methods might have seemed outrageous, disregarding the law, but in truth, he was already showing restraint. If he wanted, he could have destroyed the evidence and deleted the report before the case was even filed. Without that, how could Yamamoto Sho prove he’d been stabbed by Seiko Aoyama?

But since he and Aoyama had no personal connection before, he didn’t want to take such a risk. That’s why he asked Aoyama to deal with the victim first, then he would handle the rest. This way, Yamamoto Sho wouldn’t make trouble later, and Watanabe would both earn a favor and avoid unnecessary complications.

“Thank you, Watanabe. I’ll get on it right away.” Aoyama bowed.

“Aoyama,” Watanabe called after him, his tone meaningful, “I may run the Criminal Division, but it’s my subordinates who handle the actual work.”

He wanted the favor, but he expected payment too.

“I understand. Since you’re willing to help, it’s only right I offer a generous token of gratitude,” Aoyama replied smoothly, bowing again. “Once this is settled, I’ll be sure to repay you handsomely.”

“Take care,” Watanabe said, rising to see him out.

……

After leaving Akasaka Station, Aoyama didn’t rush to the hospital to see Yamamoto Sho. Instead, he first had Shinichi Nakamura investigate Yamamoto’s family background.

“Inspector, Yamamoto Sho is twenty-six, has no legitimate occupation, spends his days thieving and making trouble, has been detained multiple times. His father died young; his mother raised him alone running the flower shop…”

Once he was sure the Yamamoto family had little influence, Aoyama hung up and headed for the hospital.

Upon arriving at the ward, he pushed the door open and entered.

Yamamoto Sho, lying in bed, and his mother, who was tending to him, both looked up.

“I’m Aoyama Hidenobu. Seiko Aoyama is my sister-in-law,” he introduced himself, closing the door.

“Bastard!” Yamamoto Sho, his waist wrapped in bandages, cursed and hurled a banana peel at Aoyama. Guessing his purpose, he sneered, “You want me to forgive that bitch? Fine, have her spend a night with me and pay five thousand yen. Otherwise, she can rot in jail!”

“And you, Mrs. Yamamoto?” Aoyama brushed the banana peel aside and turned to the shop owner.

Mrs. Yamamoto, over fifty, her wrinkled face twisted with anger, said, “That little tramp! I gave her a job out of kindness and she did this to my son. Either agree to my son’s terms, or she goes to prison!”

Their stance was united and unyielding.