Mr Sato cocked his head. ‘What do you think?’

Shoji wiggled his fingers. Good, he could move them. Just a little longer. ‘Yoko and I love each other. You don’t need to do this. We can work something out.’

Mr Sato laughed. ‘What are you? A schoolchild?’ Leaning down, he looked into Shoji’s eyes. ‘Your naïveté troubles me. Ever since you were young, you’ve had a gift of attracting misfortune to yourself and the people around you. And then, you conveniently forget.’

What was he talking about?

‘You justify your actions by saying you have good intentions,’ Mr Sato continued. ‘Tell me, what’s the use of that? Do you think your intentions matter? Look at what has happened to the people around you because of you.’

Shoji thought of Mizuki, and then, ‘Mr Odagiri …’ he mumbled the name softly. ‘Did you kill him?’

Mr Sato tilted his head. ‘Was that the name of that blackmailer? It’s been so long I can’t remember. But don’t feel too bad about him. He was a leech, nasty and hard to shake off. Even if I hadn’t dealt with him, sooner or later someone else would have. He should be thankful I was the one who cleaned him up. I hope he liked classical music.’

That reminded Shoji of the odd soundtrack. ‘What is this song called?’

‘It’s Handel’s ‘Suite in F Major’, also known as ‘Water Music’. My favourite,’ Mr Sato said with a hint of pride. ‘It was composed for King George I, to be performed by a huge orchestra on the River Thames. The first performance involved about fifty musicians. Can you imagine how majestic that must have been?’

Shoji discreetly moved his wrists, but the binding was too tight. Or was it because he hadn’t fully gained his strength? He yanked at the rope again. Still no use.

Mr Sato glanced at his watch. ‘Looks like we’re running out of time.’ He turned on the tap. ‘How’s the water? Is it too cold?’

No. He had to buy more time. ‘Do you need to do this? I won’t go to the police. I’ll keep quiet.’

‘It’s too late, Mr Arai.’

‘Are you just trying to cover yourself, or are you being overprotective of a daughter you’ve never called your own?’

‘Enough.’ Mr Sato’s tone was stern.

‘She’s an adult now. She’s capable of making her own decisions. And if she wants to be with me, you can’t stop her. She deserves to choose her own path to happiness. How long do you plan to keep her safe using your warped sense of protectiveness?’

‘You’re not wrong, Mr Arai, but you don’t understand the position you’re in. One day, Yoko might settle down with someone, but that person can’t be you. You’re too problematic. You and your constant need to save others.’