He nodded and got out of bed.

“Two of them, this time. They’re sending a car to pick me up. Go

back to sleep.”

“You haven’t had any sleep at all, have you?”

He grimaced and shook his head.

She got up out of bed. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Keiko, there’s no time—”

“Don’t argue. It will be ready by the time you get dressed.”

She went into the kitchen. He sighed and went into the bathroom

to comb his hair and throw some cold water on his face. He looked

at his face in the bathroom mirror. It looked old. Old and drawn

and tired. There were bags under his eyes.

In another few hours, he thought wearily, they’ll take me off the

case. But meanwhile, I’ve got to go and look at two more bodies. Or

whatever’s left of them. I’ve got to go there and look at them, as if

it would make any difference whatsoever, and see if there are any

witnesses—there won’t be any, of course—and I’ve got to listen to

the reports of the officers who discovered the victims. Then I’ve got

to talk with the forensics people and make my examination of the

scene and wait for the medical examiner to show up and somehow

keep away from those damned reporters, then go into the office and

make out my report and add it to the file. By that time it will be

morning. And, with any luck, I may have time to eat something to

get my energy up—if, by some miracle, I have any appetite at

all—before Watanabe calls me into his office to tell me that I’m

being taken off the case.

He’ll be very apologetic and he’ll tell me that he knows how hard

I have been working and he’ll say something about how the case

being assigned to someone else is no reflection on my performance

of my duties, which has always been exemplary, but due to the

exigencies of the circumstances and the pressure that the Bureau

has been under, etc., etc., and that will be, to all intents and

purposes, the end of my career. I can almost hear him now, he

thought.

“You look exhausted, Akiro. You’ve been working on this thing