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no idea. He looked Takuda in the eye. “Sergeant Kuma may have important information. I’ll take him to lunch and put him at ease. He doesn’t seem like a baseball fan, so I’ll play sumo trivia with him. I follow the tournaments, and I know a lot of the wrestlers’ stats.”
    Spring wind whisked through young trees lining the canal bank. Takuda fought to keep his face immobile. “You’re not surprised that I was born and raised in this valley? You’re not curious why I didn’t tell you that before I brought you here?”
    â€œI’m not surprised, Detective. Again, I’m only curious about what you think I need to know.”
    â€œYou’re not concerned that I may have some personal interest in this case? Some personal interest that could compromise my objectivity?”
    â€œDetective, you have no objectivity. You are rather dangerous, actually. You may be the tip of the lever that pries open this whole rotten mess.”
    â€œWhat mess is that, Officer?”
    â€œI believe the local officials refer to it as the water safety question. They seem to do so without any sense of irony.”
    The water safety question. That bland, innocuous little phrase represented a nightmare of grief for the ­people of the Naga River valley, untold generations of mothers’ tears. Those words coming from Officer Mori’s lips unsettled Takuda. He looked into Mori’s eyes. There was no belligerence, no fear.
    â€œOfficer Mori,” he said, “what do you know about the water safety question?”
    â€œI gather that the extent of the water safety question has been downplayed in official correspondence. There may be procedural irregularities in the Oku Village police station’s handling of drownings and disappearances.”
    Takuda stood very still. There was little to say in response to such an understatement. “Officer Mori, there may be procedural irregularities on our end, as well.”
    Mori hefted the garbage bags in reply: There already are .
    â€œIt could cost you your job, Officer.”
    â€œI make my own choices.” Mori lowered his gaze and spoke so quietly Takuda had to take a step forward to hear him. “The situation may not respond to standard procedure. However, your paperwork doesn’t have to reflect irregularities. Leave all that to me. I’m quite good at smoothing out irregularities. No one will suspect me of it even if they become suspicious of you.”
    Suddenly, strangely, chills rippled down Takuda’s spine. This is too easy.
    He stepped back and rubbed his eyes as if he were simply tired. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps your training better prepares you for a situation like this. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
    Mori bowed.
    They turned toward the bridge. Kuma was leaning against the railing. He straightened when they started walking in his direction.
    Takuda took a deep breath. “Don’t let the chief see you with the sergeant. Take the car and get out of here. At noon, I’ll be waiting at the west end of the shopping street. There’s a cemetery.”
    Mori glanced at him and then looked down quickly. “I’ll pick you up.”
    They caught up with Kuma, and they all crossed the bridge together. Mori had Kuma talking about sumo before they reached the other side. On the path by the canal, the same path on which Hanako Kawaguchi had met Hiroyasu Ogawa, they split up. Mori took Kuma east for gentle interrogation.
    Takuda went west to visit ghosts.

 
    CHAPTER 6
    M iyoko Gotoh lived at the dead end of the shopping street, down the hill from the cemetery. It was a bad spot. Trash blown in from livelier parts of Oku Village covered the cracked pavement at her doorstep. Behind her house, flotsam choked the last bend of the main canal. In the vacant lot across the street, a tangled, man-­high mound of rusting bicycles and stripped scooters rose from the weeds.
    Gotoh