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7 August 21, 1946

Tokyo, 89°, slightly cloudy

There are dark grey clouds in the bleached white sky as night turns to day. I am vomiting in the toilets of Atago police station. Black bile again. There are newly written signs on the peeling plaster walls as I walk back upstairs. I stand over the sink. There are local government warnings about fresh outbreaks of cholera. I spit. There are instructions to refrain from drinking unboiled water, especially well-water, and to refrain from eating uncooked foods, especially raw fish. I wash my face. I look up into the mirror. I stare into the mirror –

No one is who they say they are …

There are seven grey faces waiting for me in the borrowed room upstairs; Hattori, Takeda, Sanada, Shimoda, and Kimura; Ishida with his worries and Nishi with his black eye. No Fujita now …

They walked round Shiba all day yesterday. Investigation is footwork. They asked round Shiba all day yesterday. Investigation is footwork. They described the suspect all day yesterday. Investigation is footwork. They described the victim all day yesterday –

The yellow and dark-blue striped pinafore dress …

I ask Hattori and Takeda what they found out –

‘Nothing whatsoever,’ say Takeda and Hattori.

The white half-sleeved chemise and pink socks …

I ask Sanada and Shimoda what they found –

‘Nothing at all,’ they both tell me.

The white canvas shoes …

I ask Kimura and Ishida –

‘Nothing,’ they say.

But they are looking at me now with questions in their eyes. They are looking at me with doubts in their eyes –

But I am the head of the room …

They are looking at me now with dissent in their eyes. They are looking at me with hate in their eyes –

I am the head. I am the boss …

I divide them into different sets of pairs; Takeda and Ishida, Hattori and Shimoda, Sanada and Kimura. I leave Nishi for later –

I am the boss! I am the boss!

I hand two missing persons reports to Takeda and Ishida; Ishihara Michiko and Ōzeki Hiromi, aged sixteen and seventeen years old. I am the head of this room. I hand two missing persons reports to Hattori and Shimoda; Konuma Yasuyo and Sugai Seiko, aged seventeen and eighteen years old. I am the Boss of this Room. I hand two missing persons reports to Sanada and Kimura; Tanabe Shimeko and Honma Fumiko, both eighteen years old. I am the head! I tell Nishi to go and wait for me in the cells downstairs –

I am the boss! I am the boss! I am the boss!

‘These are all reports of missing girls aged fifteen to twenty,’ I tell the rest of the room. ‘And these are all reports of girls who went missing between the fifteenth and the thirty-first of July this year. And so one of these girls might be our girl…’

I am the boss! I am the boss!

‘So I want them found!’

I am the boss!

I run back to the toilets. I vomit again. Brown bile. I walk over to the sink. I spit. I wipe my mouth. I turn on the tap. I wash my face again. I look up into the mirror. I stare into that mirror –

No one is who they say they are …

Detective Nishi is waiting for me in the cells downstairs. Nishi with his black eye and darker fears. Nishi shocked now. Nishi surprised now. Nishi up against the cell wall. My face in his face. But Nishi knows what I want. Nishi must know what I want –

But he starts to apologize about yesterday. He starts to say, ‘I’m sorry about my behaviour yesterday. In the truck…’

I don’t want to hear his apologies or his lies –

Nishi knows why I’m here. He knows what I want. Nishi must know why I’m here. He must know what I want –

But Nishi keeps apologizing and lying –

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again and again. ‘My behaviour yesterday, it was unacceptable, in the truck. I’m sorry…’

But Nishi is lying. He must be lying. Nishi must know what I want. He must know why I’m here before I say, ‘I want that file.’

‘What file?’ asks Nishi and asks again, ‘What file …?’

He must know before I ask again, ‘Where is the file?’

‘What file?’ he asks and asks again, ‘What file …?’

‘The file you signed out!’ I shout. ‘That file!’ He shakes his head and says, ‘I don’t know.’

‘The Miyazaki Mitsuko file,’ I tell him –

He shakes his head again. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You mean, you don’t know where it is?’

‘No, I don’t know the file you mean.’

‘But you remember the Miyazaki Mitsuko case?’ I ask him. ‘The murder on the day of the surrender? The body in an air-raid shelter near Shinagawa? You remember?’

Nishi nods his head. Nishi says, ‘Now you tell me, yes.’

‘So where is the file you took from Headquarters?’

Nishi shakes his head. ‘I didn’t take any file.’

‘I saw your name in the log,’ I tell him.

Nishi says, ‘It wasn’t me. Really.’

There are questions in his eyes …

‘Then someone has used your name, used your seal, to sign out the Miyazaki Mitsuko case file?’

Nishi shakes his head again. Now Detective Nishi asks, ‘But why would anyone do that? Why?’

Innocence in his eyes …

‘It wasn’t even our case,’ he says. ‘It was the Kempeitai…’

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

‘So there’ll hardly be anything in the file…’

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

‘Surely just the barest of details…’

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

‘The date and time of the crime…’

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

‘The names of the witnesses…’

Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

‘The names of the officers…’

Ton-ton …

I step back from him. I step back from the cell wall. I turn towards the cell door. I start to walk out of the cell –

‘Boss?’ asks Detective Nishi. ‘What do you want me to do?’

I don’t turn back to him. I just tell him, ‘Wait upstairs…’

‘What if Detective Fujita comes back?’ asks Nishi –

‘Fujita is not coming back,’ I tell him and now I start to walk quicker, now I start to run, to run to the toilets upstairs –

I vomit. Yellow bile. I vomit again. Grey bile. Four times I have vomited. Black bile. Brown bile, yellow bile and grey. Four times I have stared into that mirror. Four times I have screamed –

No one is who they say they are!

In the ruins, among the rubble with a cigarette. Two little boys crouch down and watch me smoke, waiting for the dog-end. Two little boys in grey undershirts and baggy trousers, their faces and their arms as black as pitch. This ruin was once a printing shop that produced a newsletter showing daily rice prices. During the Shiba festivals, the owner would give away coloured paper to the local children and teach them how to make origami elephants and cranes. Now three little girls appear among the rubble and call to the two little boys. The little girls with their short hair and dirty faces. The two little boys ask for my dog-end and ask for my newspaper. I hand them the dog-end and I hand them the newspaper and the two little boys run over to the three girls. I watch the two little boys spread out my newspaper. I watch them crease and fold the paper into two GI hats. The three little girls stand among the rubble and call to the two little boys. In the ruins, the two little boys march up and down with their dog-ends in their mouths and their paper hats on their heads –

‘Asobu?’ call the three little girls –

‘Asobu …? Asobu …?’

I knock on the door of the interview room at Meguro police station. I open it. I bow. I take a seat next to the stenographer. Chief Inspector Kanehara and Inspector Kai do not look up but the wife of Kodaira Yoshio glances up at me and then looks away again –

Mrs. Kodaira is younger than her husband, a large woman with full round breasts and a round full face. Mrs. Kodaira is wearing her best summer dress, clutching her handbag –

‘I know he knew this Midorikawa,’ she is saying. ‘But I’m sure he did not kill her. I’m sure there is some mistake…’

‘Your husband has already confessed to the murder,’ says Inspector Kai. ‘And you’ve read his confession. There’s no mistake.’

‘But I want to see him,’ she says. ‘To ask him myself.’

‘Later,’ says Kai. ‘If you answer our questions…’

‘But in the confession it says that the murder occurred at around noon on the sixth of August,’ she says. ‘My husband was working at the laundry until half past two that day and then he came straight home and stayed there with us until the next morning…’

‘How can you be so sure of that?’ asks Inspector Kai.

‘Because it was on that exact day that he asked me to start keeping a diary,’ she says. ‘To write down the times that he worked and the times he came home and the times he went back out…’

‘And why did he ask you to do that?’ says Kai.

‘Because he was worried that the laundry was not paying him for all the overtime and all the night shifts,’ she says. ‘That’s why.’

‘And the first record was made on the sixth of August?’

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘On the sixth of August and I wrote something like, Came straight home from work at 2:30 p.m.’

‘And you still have this diary, then?’ asks Kai.

‘Yes,’ she says again. ‘Back at the house.’

Now Inspector Kanehara places a piece of paper on the table. Now Inspector Kanehara asks her, ‘Do you know what this is?’

Mrs. Kodaira shakes her head and says, ‘No, I don’t.’

‘This is your husband’s time sheet from the laundry,’ says Inspector Kanehara. ‘This piece of paper records the actual days and shifts that your husband worked in August at the laundry…’

Mrs. Kodaira stares down at the piece of paper.

‘And as you can see,’ continues Inspector Kanehara, ‘the sixth of August was actually your husband’s day off that week.’

‘But you see, this is why he wanted me to keep a diary,’ she says. ‘Because they were always making mistakes like this…’

‘It’s not a mistake,’ says Kanehara. ‘We’ve checked.’

Mrs. Kodaira clutches her handbag a little tighter –

Questions. Questions. Questions. Questions …

‘Why would he kill?’ she asks. ‘Why would he?’

‘You’ve read the confession he made,’ says Kai. ‘In the confession he says that he was driven by lust for Midorikawa…’

‘She wanted my husband to get her a job,’ says Mrs. Kodaira. ‘And so she seduced him in order to persuade him to help her.’

‘He approached her,’ says Kai. ‘At Shinagawa…’

‘He gave her food,’ she says. ‘She was hungry.’

‘He told us he put his hand up her skirt,’ says Kai. ‘He told us he put his fingers inside her as they rode on the train…’

‘Exactly!’ shouts his wife. ‘She wanted him…’

‘He raped her,’ says Kai. ‘He murdered her.’

‘He raped her?’ laughs Mrs. Kodaira. ‘You’re joking! This Midorikawa girl seduced him, just like all those others…’

Now I lean forward. Now I ask, ‘What others?’

‘The ones that hang around the barracks,’ she says. ‘He’s told me about them, the shameful way they dress, the shameful way they speak. How they will do anything for food or cigarettes…’

I ask her, ‘Does your husband often talk about women?’

‘Of course he doesn’t,’ says Mrs. Kodaira. ‘And I know you’re trying to make out he’s some kind of sex maniac, raping and killing young women, but he’s just a normal Japanese man…’

‘We haven’t said anything about raping and murdering anyone else other than Miss Midorikawa,’ I tell her. ‘Have we?’

She shakes her head. She clutches her handbag –

Questions. Questions. Questions. Questions …

‘But now I want you to think about last month,’ I tell her. ‘Can you remember which days your husband did not work in July?’

She shrugs her shoulders. ‘He worked all of them…’

Inspector Kanehara places another piece of paper on the table. Inspector Kanehara says, ‘Except the eighth and the twenty-second.’

‘Can you remember what your husband did on those days?’ I ask her. ‘Did he stay at home with you? Did you go for supplies?’

‘He often went for supplies,’ she says. ‘Back to Nikkō.’

Now Kanehara, Kai and I all glance up at each other –

‘I never see them. I never really go back there now …’

‘How often?’ I ask her. ‘Can you remember exactly when?’

But she says, ‘We all need to eat, detective. Need food…’

‘We know that,’ I tell her. ‘And we’re not interested in whether your husband bought stuff legally or illegally. We’re only interested in the dates you think he went looking for supplies…’

‘I can’t remember exactly,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘What about last month?’ I ask her again. ‘Your husband’s work-sheet says he had the eighth and the twenty-second off.’

‘Then he must have done,’ she says. ‘If you say so.’

‘So can you remember what he did on those days?’ I ask her again. ‘Did he stay home? Did he go out? What did he do?’

‘How should I know?’ she says. ‘All the days are the same!’

‘But surely not when your husband had a day off?’

‘But I can’t remember the eighth from the twenty-second,’ she shouts. ‘How can I remember one day from another …?’

Now Inspector Kanehara says, ‘Then I’ll try to help you remember. Do you read the newspaper in your house?’

She clutches her handbag. She nods her head.

‘Well then,’ says Kanehara. ‘On the eighth of July there was the story of the baby born with two faces in Nagoya…’

She nods her head. She says, ‘I remember…’

‘And the twenty-second of July was the day that all the schools had to destroy their photographs of the Emperor…’

She nods her head again and says, ‘I know…’

‘Then can you remember anything else about those days?’ asks Inspector Kanehara. ‘Anything about what your husband did?’

‘I was sure he went to work,’ she says. ‘I was sure.’

Inspector Kanehara nods. Kanehara says, ‘I see.’

Now Inspector Kai sits forward again. Now Inspector Kai says, ‘This is not your husband’s first marriage, is it? Nor yours?’

‘My first husband was killed in China,’ she tells us.

‘My condolences,’ says Kai. ‘When did he die?’

‘Almost five years ago now,’ she says.

‘And so how long have you been married to Mr. Kodaira?’

‘A year and a half,’ she says. ‘Not very long really.’

‘And when did you become pregnant?’ asks Kai –

‘Almost straight away,’ she says. ‘Last March.’

Inspector Kai asks, ‘Not before you married?’

‘No!’ she shouts. ‘That’s a dirty question!’

‘Excuse me,’ says Inspector Kai. ‘And so when were you evacuated to stay with your family in Toyama?’

‘It was last May,’ says Mrs. Kodaira.

‘But your husband stayed in Tokyo?’

‘My husband hated it when I was evacuated back to Toyama,’ she says. ‘He cried at the ticket gate. Wā-wā. He cried on the platform. Wā-wā. He cried louder than a baby. Wā-wā…’

She dabs her eyes. She clutches her handbag –

Questions. Questions. Questions. Questions …

‘I know he has done bad things in the past,’ she says now. ‘And I know he has changed jobs many times. But he was a good soldier and he’s a good father to his child and since his child was born he has worked much harder and he even likes his present job.’

She clutches her handbag tighter and tighter –

Questions. Questions. Questions. Questions …

‘My husband is a very friendly man,’ says Mrs. Kodaira. ‘My husband is also a very kind man. He will talk to anyone and he will help anyone and, in my opinion, this is actually his worst quality because that is why he’s in trouble today. But my husband is not a violent man. Of course he gets angry if I serve him food he does not like or if there is not enough food for us all. But my husband never drinks alcohol and he is never violent and he never tells lies…’

‘I believe you, Mrs. Kodaira,’ says Chief Inspector Kanehara. ‘And that’s why I believe your husband’s confession to be true…’

Her shoulders are shaking. Her shoulders trembling –

No answers. No answers. No answers. No answers …

In the cells downstairs, her husband is waiting.

I do not go back to Headquarters with Chief Inspector Kanehara and Inspector Kai. I take the Yamate Line from Meguro round to Shimbashi. I itch and I scratch now. Gari-gari. I get off the train at Shimbashi. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. The New Life Market is still cordoned off. I itch as I stand and I scratch as I stare. Gari-gari. Four military policemen in their white summer fatigues stand guard. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. Their blue eyes are blank and their black boots are rooted. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. Behind the sentries, inside the market building, I can see the rows of empty stalls. I itch as I turn and I scratch as I leave. Gari-gari. I walk down the back alleys and the shaded lanes, through the shadows and the arches to the old wooden stairs and the door at the top of those stairs –

I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. I itch and I scratch –

But the door at the top of the stairs is closed –

The sign on Senju’s door reads, Gone to War.

I walk into Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters. I walk up the stairs to Police Arcade. I knock on the door to Chief Kita’s office. I open it. I apologize. I bow. I apologize again. I take my seat at the table; Chief Kita at the head; Chief Inspectors Adachi and Kanehara to his right; Inspector Kai on his left; the same people and the same place but a different time and a different conversation today –

Today the conversation is just about Kodaira –

Inspector Kanehara, Inspector Kai and half of Room #1 spent yesterday questioning Kodaira while Nishi and I were chasing ghosts out at the International Palace and the rest of my room were walking the streets of Shiba, in the heat and in the dirt –

Investigation is footwork …

‘There are some similarities with other cases,’ says the chief. ‘And so these other cases are going to need to be washed again. Now I know there is a shortage of manpower so, first of all, we are going to need to see how many of these other cases match up with the various places that the suspect Kodaira has lived and worked…’

‘And the first case is that of Abe Yoshiko…’

Shinagawa. Shinagawa. Shinagawa …

‘You might remember that the body of a teenage girl was found by a signal operator on the thirteenth of June this year, just over two months ago now, under a burnt-out truck in the scrapyard of the Shibaura Transportation Company at 7 Hamamachi, Shiba Ward, on the ocean side of Shinagawa train station…’

Adachi has his eyes on me …

‘The autopsy revealed that the girl had been raped and then strangled with her own neckerchief on or around the ninth of June. The investigation headquarters was set up at Takanawa police station and was led by former Chief Inspector Mori who, as you all know, is now unfortunately no longer with us…’

Arrested and imprisoned …

‘The body was identified as that of Abe Yoshiko who was fifteen years old and attended Dai-san Kokumin Gakkō in Hirai. However, investigations revealed she was actually in a fūten group with three other girls who were doing business with American soldiers. The autopsy also revealed that her last meal had consisted of macaroni and sausage, suggesting that she was being given food by American soldiers. There was also a persistent rumour that Abe had been sleeping with a uniformed officer from the Mita police station. As you may know, this officer was identified, questioned and then dismissed because of improper conduct…’

Dismissed and disgraced …

‘However, because of the connection with the Shinchū Gun, because of the possible involvement of American soldiers, former Chief Inspector Mori felt unable to pursue the case and so it was recorded as unsolved and the banner rolled back up –

‘The investigation officially closed.

‘However, on reading through Kodaira’s statements and cross-referencing them with unsolved crimes of a similar nature to the murder of Midorikawa and by further cross-referencing these unsolved crimes with the dates and places Kodaira is known to have lived and worked, Chief Inspector Kanehara now believes the suspect should be questioned about the murder of Abe Yoshiko in June.’

Inspector Kanehara thanks the chief. Then Kanehara says, ‘Kodaira has already denied any knowledge of the murder of Abe Yoshiko. However, earlier this morning, Kodaira’s wife inadvertently told us that Kodaira had mentioned the groups of young women who hang around the barracks and the laundry where he works. It is my hope that we will be able to find a witness who can place Kodaira in the company of Abe on or around the ninth of June this year and then Kodaira will have little choice but to confess again –

‘So our first step will be to trace the other remaining members of Abe’s fūten group. Fortunately, former Chief Inspector Mori interviewed them during the course of the initial investigation and their names and addresses were verified and recorded in the case files. If Abe was familiar with Kodaira then it is also likely one or more of these girls will also have been familiar…’

‘And also,’ adds the chief, ‘there is a slight chance that one of these girls might be able to assist in the identification of the second body we found at Shiba…’

‘Or even be that body,’ laughs Chief Inspector Adachi –

His eyes on me, all their eyes on me now …

I clear my throat. I bow. I say, ‘As you are all aware, as yet we have been unable to identify the body and so I very much appreciate and am very grateful for any assistance…’

The chief nods. The chief says, ‘You will then personally go to the most likely addresses we have on file for these girls…’

They are punishing me, but punishing me for what?

‘You will personally go to these addresses,’ repeats the chief. ‘It is important that you do not delegate this responsibility –’

Have there been complaints about me …?

‘If any of the girls are found at any of these addresses, then I want you to accompany them to Shibuya police station –’

Why not Atago? Why not my room?

‘There you will hand over any girls you find to Chief Inspector Kanehara. After Chief Inspector Kanehara has questioned these girls about Abe Yoshiko and the suspect Kodaira Yoshio, then you and the other men from Room #2 will be able to interview them about the second body found at Shiba Park –’

They are punishing me …

The chief stops talking. The chief looks up. The chief says, ‘We appreciate your hard work in this, detective inspector –’

But for what?

The chief now turns to Inspector Kai. The chief says, ‘Inspector Kai and the First Room will take a description of the victim Abe Yoshiko to the suspect Kodaira Yoshio’s family, to his friends, to his neighbours and to his workmates –’

Questions. Questions. Questions …

Finally, the chief says, ‘Chief Inspector Adachi and his team will continue to work on the case of the journalist Hayashi –

Answers. Answers and …

‘Dismissed!’

Warnings!

I take a different route back to Atago. They are punishing me. The restaurant is a shack slapped together from pieces of corrugated metal. They are warning me. They have no white rice, but they have white bread. They are punishing me. They have custard cakes, but they have no white rice. They are warning me. I order a cup of coffee from the woman behind the counter and I squeeze onto an improvised stool. They are punishing me. The young man beside me is still wearing his uniform, his kitbag propped beneath the counter. They are warning me. He has short-cropped hair and smells of DDT. They are punishing me. There are no badges on his uniform and there is no light in his eyes. They are warning me. The woman behind the counter places a doughnut in front of him. ‘You just got back, dear?’

The young man stares at the doughnut and nods his head.

‘Got a wife waiting for you?’ she asks. ‘Your mother?’

The young man looks up from the plate now and says, ‘They think I died honourably in battle three years ago. They received a citation from the Mayor of Tokyo which said Private Noma would forever be remembered and may his soul rest in peace. They were given a small white casket in which the ashes of my body had been brought back to Japan. They deposited the casket in our local temple. They placed a framed picture of me in my uniform on the family butsudan. They lit incense for me, offered white rice and sake…’

I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember …

‘They wouldn’t look at my face. They said Noma is dead…’

But here in the half-light, I can’t forget…

‘They wouldn’t look at my feet…’

They are punishing us all …

‘They said I’m a ghost…’

Warning us all …

No one is who they seem.

I stand over the sink again. Black bile again. I spit again. Brown bile again. I wipe my mouth again. Yellow bile again. I turn on the tap again. Grey bile again. I wash my face again. Black bile, brown bile, yellow bile and grey. I do not look into the mirror –

Cover the mirrors! Cover the mirrors!

I go upstairs into the borrowed office. Detectives Takeda and Ishida are still out looking for Ishihara Michiko and Ōzeki Hiromi. Detectives Hattori and Shimoda are still out looking for Konuma Yasuyo and Sugai Seiko. Detectives Sanada and Kimura still out looking for Tanabe Shimeko and Honma Fumiko. But Detective Nishi is sat at his borrowed desk in our borrowed office where I left him, where I left him to sit and wait for me. They are keeping me close. Tight. But I am keeping him closer –

‘Wake up,’ I say. ‘Time to go…’

Down the Shibuya backstreets and down the Shibuya alleyways, to knock on the doors of the addresses we have taken from the Abe file, to be given another address and then another because this city is one huge sea of displaced persons, moving from here to there and back again to here, looking for a relative, looking for a home, looking for a job, looking for a meal, a familiar face on an un-bombed street in an un-burnt neighbourhood, selling this and selling that to buy a little of this and a little of that, from room to room, house to house, neighbourhood to neighbourhood, place to place, one minute here and one minute gone, gone and then back again, back and then gone again, tiny, tiny fish in a rough, rough sea –

It is late in the afternoon before we finally find one of Abe Yoshiko’s friends, one of her fūten group, down another Shibuya backstreet, up another Shibuya alleyway, our shirts stuck to our backs and our trousers stuck to our legs –

Five in the afternoon and the girl is still asleep, says the landlady. The girl never rises before dusk. But she always pays her rent. Even brings home extra rations. Not that she should be telling two handsome detectives from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. But yes, she is in her room and yes, the landlady agrees to go up and wake her –

Now the landlady mops her neck with a towel and gets up from her knees to go up the steep wooden stairs, along the narrow wooden corridor to the room of seventeen-year-old Masaoka Hisae –

Masaoka Hisae who follows her landlady back along the narrow wooden corridor, back down the steep wooden stairs to light a cigarette and tighten the belt of her yukata and narrow her eyes and scowl and then sigh and ask us, ‘What do you want this time?’

The Shibuya police station is tense. The Shibuya police station is armed to its teeth. Nishi and I should have taken Masaoka to either the Meguro or the Atago police station. But the chief told us to take anybody we find into the Shibuya police station. The Shibuya station is tense. The Shibuya station is armed to its teeth. The Shibuya station raided the headquarters of Kakyō Sōkai, the association of Chinese merchants. The Shibuya station took away Kō Gyoku-Ju, the vice-president of the Kakyō Sōkai. The Shibuya station tense. The Shibuya Station armed to its teeth. The Shibuya station is holding Kō Gyoku-Ju in a cell downstairs. The Shibuya station doesn’t want anyone to know. Shibuya station tense. Shibuya armed to its teeth. But everyone knows what will happen next –

Because they are coming. They are coming …

Nishi and I commandeer an upstairs room to use to interview Masaoka Hisae. Then Nishi and I send a message to Chief Inspector Kanehara at Metro Headquarters. Now Nishi and I leave Masaoka in a downstairs cell to wait until Inspector Kanehara arrives from Headquarters. Until it’s time to begin the interview –

They are coming. They are coming …

Masaoka in the downstairs cell opposite Kō Gyoku-Ju and his bloodied face and his blackened eyes –

They are coming.

The night is coming down now. Chief Inspector Kanehara here now. The sweat running in rivers down Masaoka Hisae’s face and neck. The fan in her hand never stops. The scowl on her face never leaves –

Never leaves until Kanehara shows her a photograph –

Masaoka stares at the photograph. Masaoka nods her head and says, ‘Yoshiko and I visited his room in the barracks…’

‘He has a room in the barracks, does he?’

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Just a futon and…’

‘So you went there for sex?’

‘He promised us zanpan,’ she says. ‘Bread and sausages from Shinchū kitchens. Leftovers and scraps…’

‘Did you screw him?’

‘Yes,’ she says.

‘Did Abe?’

‘No,’ she says. ‘At least not while we were there together. She refused him…’

‘And when was this?’

‘May or June…’

‘Where?’

‘The Shinchū Gun barracks down at the old Naval Business and Accounting School in Shinagawa. That was where he worked and that was where he had his room…’

‘Did you stay there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Both of you?’

‘Three of us.’

‘Who was the third girl?’

‘Tominaga…’

‘And did she fuck him?’

‘Maybe,’ laughs Masaoka. ‘He could fuck all night could that one, said he was making up for all the screws he had lost…’

‘But he wasn’t Shinchū Gun, was he?’

‘He had bread. He had meat.’

We have no rice. No food …

‘You fuck for bread?’

We all beg for food …

‘He was kind to us.’

We all beg…

‘Kind to you?’

Beg…

‘Yes.’

‘So, after Abe was murdered, you never thought it could have been this man who killed your friend on the ninth of June?’

‘No, but now you’ve told me all these things and now you’ve shown me his photograph, maybe…’

‘But you didn’t mention him to Chief Inspector Mori at the time of the murder, did you?’

‘No one mentioned him to me and I didn’t think he could have been her killer…’

‘Did he tell you he’d already been convicted of the murder of his father-in-law?’

‘He never said,’ she smiles. ‘Or I would have mentioned it.’

‘He’s also confessed to the rape and murder of a girl.’

‘Well then, maybe he murdered Yoshiko…’

‘But he definitely knew Abe Yoshiko?’

‘He definitely knew her, yes.’

‘He had asked her for sex?’

‘He asked her for sex.’

‘And she refused?’

‘That night, yes.’

‘Thank you,’ says Chief Inspector Kanehara. ‘You have been very helpful, Miss Masaoka.’

Masaoka Hisae narrows her eyes now and scowls at him and asks, ‘Can I go home then?’

‘In a little while,’ I tell her. ‘But I have a few more questions to ask you first…’

Masaoka Hisae folds her arms back in front of her and says, ‘Go on then, please.’

‘I want you to tell me a little bit more about your group.’

Masaoka Hisae laughs. ‘My group? My fūten group?’

There are boots on the stairs now, boots coming …

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Their names and their ages…’

Boots coming down the corridor …

Now the door flies open without a knock, a uniformed policeman falling into the interview room, panting, ‘All hell’s broken loose, sir! The Formosans, the Chinese and the Koreans have all joined forces and they have attacked the markets at Shimbashi and at ōji and they have stoned the Atago and ōji police stations and they have injured Police Chief Hashioka of the ōji police station…’

The Chinks are murdering the Japanese …

‘There are thousands of them and they have come up from Osaka and Kobe and they have got Chinese sailors from a Chinese battleship anchored in Yokohama and they are armed with machine guns and they are firing at the police and the Japanese…’

The Chinks are murdering the Japanese …

‘Now they are all heading this way, heading here to the Shibuya station to bust out Kō Gyoku-Ju…’

Kanehara, Nishi and I run downstairs and outside. They are coming. The night is here. They are coming. It is 9 p.m. and the battle lines have been drawn. They are coming. Two hundred policemen standing guard outside the Shibuya police station. They are coming. Inspector Adachi here, a short sword in one hand, a drawn pistol in the other. They are coming. Five trucks full of Formosans approach –

Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves …

‘They are here! They are here! They are here!’

Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves …

Police stop the first truck. Nerves. The driver tells the officers they are heading for the Kakyō Sōkai headquarters. Nerves. The officers make their report to the Shibuya chief. Nerves. The Shibuya chief tells them to let the trucks pass through. Nerves. The first truck is allowed through the checkpoint. Nerves. Then the second. Nerves. Then the third. Nerves. Then the fourth. Nerves. Finally the fifth –

Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves …

The fifth truck with its tailgate down. Nerves. The fifth truck with a machine gun mounted in the back. Nerves. The machine gun mounted in the back that now opens fire, that cuts through the night, that sends policemen running, hitting two policemen, cutting them down, other officers scrambling for their own revolvers, firing back –