8

August 22, 1946

Tokyo, 90°, very fine

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

It is dawn now and the first trains have already been and gone. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. I wipe my face and I wipe my neck. There is no shadow here. No respite from the heat. I am standing at the end of my own street, watching the gate to my own house –

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

I walk down the street to my own house. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. I open the gate to my own house. I wipe my face and I wipe my neck again. I go up the path to my own house. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. I open the door to my house. I wipe my face and I wipe my neck. I stand in the genkan of my own house –

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

The house is silent. The mats are rotting. The house still sleeping. The doors in shreds. I place the envelope of money and the bundle of food on the floor of the reception room. The walls are falling in. The house smells of my children –

Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

I turn their shoes to face the door –

Ton-ton. Ton-ton …

I turn away and I walk away, itching and scratching, gari-gari, wiping my face and wiping my neck, as I start to run, to run away.

*

Tominaga Noriko’s last known address was in Ōimachi, near to where Abe Yoshiko’s body was found. Near to where Kodaira Yoshio works. Kodaira country. Near to where Miyazaki Mitsuko was murdered. Near to where Yuki lives. My country …

Tominaga Noriko’s landlady invites me into her house and then up the stairs to Tominaga Noriko’s rented little room at the end of the second-floor passage, next to a bathroom –

‘I dust,’ she says. ‘But, other than that, it’s just as she left it.’

‘Why is that?’ I ask her. ‘Why don’t you rent it out again?’

‘The same reason I reported her missing, I suppose.’

‘Why?’ I ask her again. ‘Just another tenant …?’

The landlady goes over to the small window and opens it. She shakes her head. ‘But Noriko wasn’t just another tenant, you see…

‘She’d lost both her parents and her younger sister in the March air raids, her elder brother still missing in China…

‘I have no one either now, you see. My husband is long dead and my sons are both dead too, one killed in the south early on and one killed in the north. My eldest was married but he had no children, his wife already remarried. I don’t begrudge or blame her, these are the times we live in, but I have no one now but this house which was spared and the people who live here…

‘Noriko had been here just over six months, a very pretty girl, a very polite and very friendly girl. Because of all your inquiries after the murder of her friend, I know now the kind of life Noriko led, but I never ever would have guessed…

‘Noriko was so very quick to share whatever extra food or clothing she managed to get hold of, no matter what she had done for it, no matter what it had cost her…’

‘Asobu …? Asobu …?’

I nod. I ask, ‘So when did Miss Tominaga go missing?’

‘About a month after her friend was killed, I think.’

‘So that would be early to mid July?’

‘Yes,’ agrees the landlady. ‘But it was definitely before the fifteenth of July because that was the date that the rent was due on her room. And so that was when I became worried…’

‘So when did you report her missing?’

‘Not until the start of this month.’

I ask her, ‘Why did you wait?’

‘I thought she might have just gone off for a bit, you see. Because of what had happened to her friend, because of all your investigations into her and her friends, because of all your questions, because of all your insinuations…’

‘So if Miss Tominaga had just gone off for a bit, where do you think she would have gone?’

Tominaga Noriko’s landlady turns away now. Tominaga Noriko’s landlady looks out of the window and does not answer –

‘You said she might have just gone off for a bit; so where?’

The landlady shakes her head. ‘It’s too late. She’s dead.’

‘You don’t know that,’ I say. ‘Maybe she’s scared.’

The landlady shakes her head again. ‘It’s too late.’

‘Maybe she just got scared and she ran away.’

Tominaga Noriko’s landlady walks over to an old wooden chest of drawers. Tominaga Noriko’s landlady opens the drawers. Tominaga Noriko’s landlady says, ‘But Noriko would never leave all her clothes behind, never leave all her cosmetics…’

‘But you don’t know that for certain,’ I tell her again. ‘People’s plans can change quickly these days.’

‘But Noriko would never not say goodbye,’ she tells me. ‘She would never leave like that, you see.’

I walk over to the chest of drawers. I touch the clothes inside. I walk over to the dresser. I touch the jars of cosmetics. I take the cover off the mirror. I touch the glass –

‘Does this become me…?’

I say, ‘There was a man, wasn’t there?’

Tominaga Noriko’s landlady catches a sob in her throat, puts a hand to her mouth. Now Tominaga Noriko’s landlady closes the drawers, covers the mirror and says, ‘You should know, detective.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask. ‘How should I know?’

‘He was one of you, wasn’t he?’ she whispers –

‘She was seeing a policeman?’

‘For all the good it did her.’

Now I take out my notebook but I do not open it. I ask her, ‘Did you ever see Miss Tominaga wear a yellow and dark-blue striped pinafore dress over a white half-sleeved chemise…’

The woman is crying. The woman nodding now –

‘Dyed-pink socks and white canvas shoes…’

Nodding now and crying and crying –

‘With red rubber soles…’

‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’ she is crying as she opens the drawers again, pulling out the clothes and sending them into the air as she frantically searches for a yellow and dark-blue striped pinafore dress, a white half-sleeved chemise and a pair of dyed-pink socks –

But these clothes are not here and neither am I –

Our body has a name. Our case closed …

I am running back down the stairs now –

Case closed! Case closed! Case …

Out of the house and straight into the face of a uniformed policeman asking, ‘Are you Inspector Minami?’

‘What is it?’ I ask him. ‘What is it?’

‘Excuse me, sir,’ he says. ‘There is a meeting of all divisions, sections, and rooms at Metropolitan Headquarters…’

‘How did you know you’d find me here?’

‘Chief Inspector Adachi told me I’d find you here, sir.’

*

The chiefs of all the divisions are here. The heads of all the sections. The heads of every room. The chiefs of every single police station.

The Victors have also sent their observers and their spies; their Nisei translators; their collaborators in their turncoats; race traitors, these banana boys, with their yellow skins and white hearts –

‘Asobu …? Asobu …? Asobu …? Asobu …?’

Down at the very front of the room, Fujimoto Yoshio, the chief of the Metropolitan Police Defence Bureau, stands up and begins his speech about the events of last night –

‘Gentlemen, as you know, though such cases have occurred before in Osaka and in Kobe, this is the first case of Formosans openly attacking a police station in Tokyo…

‘Details remain sketchy for now; however, it is reported that approximately five hundred Formosans, possibly aided by a further five hundred Chinese and Korean allies, all of whom are angry at their perceived exclusion from the New Life Market in Shimbashi, boarded at least five trucks at the Yaesu entrance of Tokyo station at about 7 p.m. last night. They then drove to the site of this Shimbashi New Life Market, where they rode about in a repetition of previous incidents at the market, hoping to confront members of the former Matsuda group. However, as the market is temporarily closed, there were no members of the Matsuda group present on this occasion and no confrontation occurred there. There are reports, however, that a few machine-gun bursts were heard…

‘But finding no Matsuda group members at the Shimbashi New Life Market, the Formosans then headed in their trucks for the Shibuya precinct station and, on arriving there at approximately 9 p.m., they were met by over two hundred policemen who had been assigned to guard the station…

‘Police initially stopped the trucks but then allowed them to pass when the Formosans insisted they were there only to peacefully visit the Kakyō Sōkai headquarters at the request of representatives of the Chinese Mission to Tokyo. However, as the trucks passed through the police lines, occupants of at least one truck opened fire on the police, aiming at the chief of the Shibuya police and seriously wounding two officers…’

Bang! Bang! …

‘The officers were left with little alternative but to defend themselves and respond with revolvers. A fifteen-minute gun battle then ensued, wounding a further four officers, two seriously, and killing six Formosans and wounding a score more. The battle was waged with at least two machine guns, set up by the Formosans in their trucks, as well as with pistols, knives, staves, clubs, pickaxes and other weapons. One Formosan truck also ran up onto a sidewalk, injuring many of the passengers but allowing us to arrest twenty-seven of the Formosan occupants. Revolvers, iron clubs, wooden clubs and bottles of gasoline were also found inside the truck…’

These lies that everyone tells themselves …

‘Unfortunately, the vast majority of the Formosans involved in this incident escaped during the course of the gun battle and the ensuing melee. These Formosan suspects remain at large…’

Until everyone believes this history …

‘Furthermore, earlier yesterday evening the ōji police station was also surrounded and attacked by a group of twenty to thirty Koreans, resulting in the hospitalization of Police Chief Hashioka of ōji police station and the death of one Korean man…

‘It is believed that the incident began at around 5 p.m. last night and grew out of a dispute between Japanese and Korean stall-operators in front of ōji train station in which approximately forty or fifty people were involved in a fist fight…

‘Police were called to restore order and to arrest the perpetrators, detaining them at the ōji police station. It was at this point that the group of twenty to thirty Koreans surrounded the police station and began to stone the building. Police Chief Hashioka of ōji police station went outside to remonstrate with the crowd and was himself then surrounded and stoned. Police Chief Hashioka was left with no alternative but to discharge his pistol in self-defence. His shots unfortunately pierced the lower abdomen of one of the Koreans, fatally wounding him…’

Bang! Bang! …

‘However, the firing of the shot undoubtedly brought the dispute under control and order was restored. Police Chief Hashioka was then taken to the Imperial University Hospital where, we have been told, he will take about ten days to recover from his injuries.

‘Finally, during the course of last night, there were also five separate reports of fights between rival Korean gangs, resulting in many injuries and much damage to property. The headquarters of the Youth League for the Promotion of Korean Independence at Denenchōfu in Ōmori Ward was attacked at around 5 a.m. by approximately three hundred Koreans in a number of trucks and vehicles, breaking windows, tables and chairs…

‘As a result of information received, a comprehensive roundup of suspects in the Komatsugawa, Sunamachi and Kameido districts has been ordered…’

Bang! Bang! …

‘But enough is enough!’ shouts Chief Fujimoto now –

‘The restoration and maintenance of order must be our priority as both policemen and as Japanese!

‘The Tokyo Metropolitan Police will detail extra guards at all police stations with instructions to fire back in the event of a renewal or repetition of last night’s attack…’

Bang! Bang! …

‘To fire back not for the purpose of wounding or killing but for the arrest of the attackers and for restoring order because the restoration and the maintenance of order must be our priority…

‘Extra guards have also been assigned to the Shimbashi Market and other markets believed to be potential targets…

‘Today we will also urge the operators of all markets to tighten their own security and to cooperate fully with police in order to restore and maintain order in Tokyo…’

Bang! Bang! …

‘But we will continue to urge them to accommodate legitimate businesses run by Chinese, Formosan and Korean operators inside their markets. We will also continue to offer ourselves as arbitrators and mediators in the case of any disputes…

‘But enough is enough!’ shouts Chief Fujimoto again –

‘Restore order! Maintain order! Dismissed!’

*

Things never change. There are wars and there are restorations. Things never change. There are wars and there are victories. Things never change. There are wars and there are defeats. Things never change. There are occupations and there are elections. Things never change. Because there is always a second meeting. Things never change. There is always a second meeting to discuss the first –

Never change. Never change. Never change …

For everyone to discuss the best ways in which to ignore the conclusions of the first meeting; for everyone to pretend that the first meeting never actually took place; to promise to keep things exactly the way they were before the first meeting –

Never change. Never change …

‘What a mess, what a mess, what a mess,’ our chief is saying over and over, again and again. ‘The Victors will be talking about the corruption of the police and the failure of justice again, warning of the growth of racketeering and the power of the underground, moaning about the mistreatment of minorities and the rebirth of nationalism. The Victors will be wanting more reviews and more reforms, watching us like hawks…’

Never change …

‘But the Victors must let the markets reopen,’ says Adachi. ‘This whole situation is a direct result of SCAP’s campaign against the markets. I know they want to stop the hoarding and the pilfering of goods meant for rations, to keep these goods out of the markets so they are free to be distributed as rations at the official prices…

‘But the markets and the vendors are only fulfilling a demand. By closing the markets and then failing to meet that demand, the Victors are only creating further hunger and frustration…

‘And then, by forcing the markets to change, by limiting the number of stalls, insisting on licences, then the Victors are again only creating frustration among the excluded minorities…’

‘Chief Inspector Adachi is exactly right,’ agrees Kanehara. ‘A colleague from Chiba was telling me about this large catch of sardines that was brought ashore. The regular rationing organization was not properly equipped to handle such a catch. There was not enough ice to keep the fish from spoiling. There were not enough trucks available to bring the catch into Tokyo. Furthermore, the official price for the catch was so low that it couldn’t cover the cost of the boats, the fishermen, the storage or the transportation…’

‘So what happened to it all?’ asks Inspector Kai.

‘Well, this is my very point,’ says Chief Inspector Kanehara. ‘What would have happened last month, back when the markets were allowed to open, is that news of such a big catch would have caused a hoard of small stall-holders to descend on Chiba. They would have bought up the entire catch directly from the fishermen for cash. The stall-holders would then have brought the fish on their own backs into Tokyo in a couple of hours and would have had those sardines on their stalls within the day. Yes, the price would be higher than the official price but there would have been so much and from so many competing vendors that the price could not go too high…’

‘What happened this time?’ asks Kai again.

‘A very small proportion of the catch was sold at a very high price to one of the gangs,’ says Kanehara.

‘And the rest of it?’ asks Kai.

‘It was all allowed to rot,’ says Chief Inspector Kanehara. ‘And what could be salvaged was then turned into fertilizer.’

Things never change. Things never change …

There is silence around the table now –

Never change. Never change …

There is silence until Chief Kita says, ‘Chief Fujimoto wants us to keep out of the Shibuya and Shimbashi areas. Unfortunately, because of the Abe and Midorikawa cases, and because of the suspect Kodaira, we cannot keep out of the Shibuya area but we can refrain from using the Shibuya police station. Also, because of the proximity to Shiba Park, there is no way for us to avoid using the Atago police station. However, before you or any of your teams enter either Shibuya or the Shimbashi Market area, I want you to first request permission from Headquarters –

Things never change …

‘I don’t want any of my men caught in the crossfire!’

*

I go to the bathroom down the corridor. I do not vomit. I go into a cubicle. I do not vomit. I lock the door. I do not vomit. I stare into the bowl. I do not vomit. I stare at the stains. I do not vomit. I smell the ammonia. I do not vomit. The insects and the heat. I do not vomit. I wait for fifteen minutes inside the cubicle. I do not vomit. Now I unlock the cubicle door. I do not vomit. I rinse my face in the sink. I do not vomit. I do not look up into that mirror. I do not vomit …

I go back down the corridor. I knock on the door to the chief’s office. I open the door. I step inside. I apologize. I bow –

‘I am sorry to disturb you again,’ I tell the chief. ‘But I would be very grateful if you could spare me a moment…’

But today the chief does not offer me a seat or any tea. Today the chief does not even look up. He just asks, ‘What is it now…?’

‘I didn’t have a chance to update you on our progress…’

Now the chief looks up. ‘You’ve made some progress?’

‘I feel we have a strong lead which I’d like to pursue.’

‘Go on then, detective, what is this strong lead…’

‘Well, as you know, we managed to locate Masaoka Hisae, who was one of Abe Yoshiko’s friends. Well, Masaoka told me that the description of the second body found at Shiba Park resembled that of another of her friends, Tominaga Noriko…’

‘Along with hundreds of other girls…’

‘But this Tominaga girl is missing…’

‘And who reported her missing?’

‘Her landlady,’ I tell the chief. ‘And the dates fit because, although the landlady didn’t report Tominaga missing until the first of this month, she said Tominaga actually went missing between the ninth and fifteenth of last month…’

‘That’s it?’ asks the chief.

‘Far from it,’ I tell him. ‘The landlady also confirmed that Tominaga Noriko wore clothes exactly like those that were found on the body at Shiba. A search of the missing girl’s room and possessions revealed that these clothes are also missing…’

Now the chief is interested. ‘Go on, detective…’

‘Masaoka has confirmed that Kodaira knew Abe Yoshiko. Masaoka also confirmed that Kodaira knew Tominaga Noriko…’

‘But that doesn’t make her the dead body in Shiba Park.’

‘Faced with this evidence, Kodaira will confess…’

‘Faced with what evidence exactly, detective?’ asks the chief. ‘A missing girl had the same dress as a murdered girl? A missing girl was an acquaintance of another murdered girl?’

‘But the dates are exactly right…’

‘Have the landlady view the body then,’ says the chief.

‘But there is no body,’ I tell him. ‘It’s just bones’

‘You have her clothes, don’t you, detective?’

I nod. I say, ‘They’re still up at Keiō.’

‘Well, if she can positively identify them, through a repair or through a tear or anything, then that will be the evidence, won’t it?’

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘And there was one other thing…’

‘Quickly then,’ says the chief. ‘What is it?’

‘I’d like to know the name of the uniformed officer who was dismissed during the initial Abe investigation?’

‘Why do you want to know that?’

‘He might know where the rest of Abe’s friends have gone or he might even be able to assist in any possible identification…’

‘No,’ says the chief. ‘Now is not the time.’

‘I understand that,’ I tell the chief. ‘Then would it be possible for me to speak with former Chief Inspector Mori…’

‘You know where Mori is?’ laughs the chief –

The Matsuzawa Hospital for the Insane …

‘Yes, but I thought he might still…’

I don’t want to remember …

‘And I thought you would have seen enough of that place…’

The blood-flecked scroll on the wall behind his desk …

‘Inspector Mori might know what happened…’

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

‘What happened is in the file. What he knew is in the file. There are no shortcuts, detective. Not any more,’ says the chief –

The best friend my father ever had …

‘Now go back to your men –

‘Go back to your men,’ he shouts. ‘And lead your men!’

*

I do not take a different route back to Atago today. I take the same route I took two days ago. I take the same route past the bar in the basement of the three-storey reinforced concrete shell –

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

I walk down the stairs but the door is closed today. I turn the handle and the door opens. I step inside the bar but the room is pitch-black. I look around the place but everything is rubble and ruin. I turn round and I go back up the stairs. I stand at the top of the stairs in the harsh white daylight, finding my bearings –

But everything looks the same …

The concrete shell, the blown-out rooms, the exposed girders. The young man still in his uniform who asks, ‘You lost something?’

‘There was a bar here,’ I tell him. ‘What happened to it?’

‘Can’t you guess?’ laughs the man. ‘A bomb fell on it.’

‘No, no, no,’ I say. ‘I was only here two days ago…’

‘You’ve got the wrong place then,’ he says. ‘This was one of those People’s Bars. More than a hundred people were trapped and burned alive in there when the building took a direct hit…’

‘But I was here two days ago,’ I tell him again.

‘Well, you were drinking with ghosts then.’

I stand in the harsh white daylight –

In the harsh white daylight –

‘Is your watch broken, sir?’

The daylight which looks like raindrops. The raindrops good upon my face. My face to the sky. The sky blue not grey, high not low across the city. The city standing tall and shining bright in a neon night. A neon night reflected on my face. My face wet with the raindrops. The raindrops nothing but my tears. My tears in the daylight. The city fallen and drab, the sky grey and low –

‘You were drinking with ghosts then…’

Fallen and drab, grey and low –

Now he shows me the watch …

In that harsh white daylight –

It still says twelve o’clock.

*

I am late, yet again. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi is standing on the steps outside Atago police station. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi is looking for me. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi is waiting for me. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi wants a word. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi looks like shit. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi looks like he hasn’t slept. I am looking in a mirror. Detective Nishi telling me, ‘Kodaira Yoshio has a mistress. Near Meguro…’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Masaoka told me.’

‘Told you when?’

‘Last night,’ he says. ‘When I took her back to her room.’

‘Why didn’t she mention it before? At the station?’

‘She didn’t think it was of any importance.’

I look at him. I ask, ‘Did you fuck her?’

He looks away. He shakes his head –

‘You’re a bad liar, Nishi-kun.’

He starts to speak. He stops.

‘Did you pay her for it?’

‘I bought her a meal,’ says Nishi. ‘I bought her some drinks. I gave her a pack of cigarettes.’

‘And now that’s all your money gone until the end of the month,’ I say. ‘All your food and all your cigarettes…’

Nishi looks away again. Nishi nods.

I take out one hundred yen from my trouser pocket. I stuff it into his shirt pocket. I say, ‘And you got a screw and a break in the case. Well done, detective…’

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘Are you going to tell Chief Inspector Kanehara and Detective Inspector Kai about this mistress?’

‘No,’ I tell him. ‘We’ll go and bring her in ourselves.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ says Nishi and then he adds, ‘There was one other thing; about the Miyazaki Mitsuko file –’

‘What about it?’ I snap. ‘What?’

‘I think I know who took it –’

‘Who?’ I ask. ‘Who…?’

‘I was thinking about that day,’ he says. ‘The day of the case, the day of the surrender last year. Only Detective Fujita and –’

‘You think Detective Fujita took the file?’

‘Well, I didn’t even go to the scene of the crime,’ he says. ‘And so I had no idea there was even a Metro file on the case. But Detective Fujita was there. Detective Fujita would have known…’

‘So you think Fujita signed the file out using your name?’

Nishi nods. ‘Who else could it have been?’

‘Detective Fujita’s face is well known,’ I tell him. ‘The duty officer wouldn’t record your name instead…’

‘Unless he had an incentive,’ says Nishi. ‘Or unless Fujita used a stooge to sign for it using my name.’

‘A stooge?’ I ask. ‘Like who?’

‘Detective Ishida, maybe.’

‘Have you spoken to Ishida about the Miyazaki file yet?’

Nishi shakes his head. ‘I wanted to speak to you first.’

‘Good man,’ I tell him. ‘Now leave it to me.’

But Nishi won’t leave it to me. Now Nishi says, ‘Yet I still don’t understand why Detective Fujita would want that file –’

‘I’ll find out,’ I say. ‘So you forget the file now.’

‘But you do believe it wasn’t me who took it?’

I nod. I say, ‘Only because you’re such a bad liar, detective.’

*

Back up the stairs. Lead your men. Lead your men. Back to the borrowed second-floor room. I must see Ishida. Back to the questions and the doubts in their eyes. Lead your men. Lead your men. Back to the dissent and the hate. I must find that file. But there’s no drop in temperature here. Lead your men. Lead your men. No change in circumstances. No Ishida. No file. This room is still an oven, their breakfast still zōsui; zōsui still their only meal. Lead your men. Lead your men. Unwashed and unshaven, they have not seen their wives or their children, their lovers or their bastards, in well over a week –

Lead your men! Lead your men! Lead your men …

Sanada, Hattori, Takeda, Shimoda, Nishi and Kimura; I count my men again and then ask them, ‘Where is Detective Ishida?’

They shrug their shoulders. They shake their heads –

I say to Takeda, ‘I thought he was with you.’

‘He was yesterday,’ says Takeda.

‘He was with you all day?’

‘Yesterday, he was…’

‘What about today?’

Detective Takeda shakes his head. Takeda looks at the others. Takeda says, ‘Not today.’

The other detectives shake their heads again. The others agree, ‘Not seen him today.’

Now Hattori says, ‘Maybe he’s looking for Detective Fujita.’

‘What do you mean by that remark, detective?’ I ask him –

Hattori shrugs his shoulders. Hattori says, ‘Nothing.’

‘Forget about Ishida,’ I tell them all. ‘But, if you do see him, you tell him to remain here until he has spoken to me. And you tell him, if he leaves again, then he leaves for good…’

The detectives nod their heads.

‘Anyway, I have some much better news for you now,’ I say. ‘I have a possible name for our body; Tominaga Noriko –

‘Tominaga was a friend of Abe Yoshiko who, as you know, we believe may also have been murdered by the suspect Kodaira. Tominaga has been missing since the second week of July and she was known to wear clothing the same as that found on our body…’

But there is no applause. There are still only doubts –

Lead your men! Lead your men! Lead your men …

Now I divide them into pairs again. Lead your men. I send Detectives Takeda and Kimura back to Tominaga Noriko’s landlady in Ōimachi. Lead your men. I send them back to find out every last detail she knows about her former tenant’s life. Lead your men. I send them back to arrange for her to come to the Keiō University Hospital tomorrow in order to view the clothes found on the body –

Lead your men! Lead your men …

I send Detectives Sanada and Shimoda back to Masaoka Hisae in Shibuya. Lead your men. I send them back to find out every last detail she knows about her friend’s life –

Lead your men …

I leave Hattori in the borrowed second-floor room to wait for Ishida. Lead your men. Then I tell Detective Nishi to come with me.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ says Detective Hattori. ‘But what about Ishihara Michiko and Ōzeki Hiromi? What about Tanabe Shimeko and Honma Fumiko? What about Konuma Yasuyo and Sugai Seiko?’

Lead your men! Lead your men! Lead your men …

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘What did you find out?’

Lead your men! Lead your men …

‘Nothing,’ spits Hattori –

Lead your men… !

‘Thank you, detective,’ I say. ‘Thank you very much.’

*

Masaoka Hisae gave Detective Nishi the name of Kodaira’s mistress as one Okayama Hisayo and her address as being somewhere near Meguro, near the police station where Kodaira is now being held. Detective Nishi worked quickly and found a current address for an Okayama Hisayo, listed as living in an apartment building half-way between Meguro and Gotanda, so we walk down to Hamamatsu-chō station, take the Yamate loop train, getting off at Gotanda station –

Another shabby neighbourhood, another shabby building …

Kodaira Yoshio’s mistress lives in an apartment building on a bluff overlooking the Meguro River. There are Western-style houses near here but they have all been requisitioned by the Victors and are now tightly guarded. Okayama Hisayo’s apartment building is on the very edge of the bluff, level with the elevated line of the National Railway, level with the noise of the trains. And, while we are climbing the stairs to her apartment, it finally dawns on me that this building is one of the addresses we have listed for Kodaira Yoshio, that he and his wife used to live in this very building –

Another shabby apartment …

Nishi and I knock on the door of Okayama Hisayo’s apartment, opening it and apologizing for disturbing her, for calling on her unannounced, introducing ourselves –

Another shabby room …

Okayama Hisayo is a plain, pale-skinned woman in her forties. She kneels down in the entrance to her apartment. She bows. She welcomes us. She apologizes for the poor state of her apartment. She invites us in. She has been expecting us, waiting for us –

She does not ask why we are here.

Nishi and I sit at her stained, low table in her hot, overcast room. We refuse her offer of tea. We apologize again for disturbing her, for calling on her unannounced –

But she is insisting on giving us tea, apologizing for having no snacks, leaving us alone in her room while she ducks behind a curtain to bring us some tea –

I turn away to look out of her window but the view is partially obstructed by a thick growth of trees near the edge of the cliff, though I can still see the Togoshi-Ebara heights rising beyond the Meguro River, still see the barrack houses going up, the light industry returning, but all else is burnt and ruined; the old feudal villas, their gardens now overgrown parks, their ponds diseased pools –

‘It was originally a place for mistresses, up here,’ says Okayama Hisayo, placing two glasses of cold tea on the low table. ‘The founder of the Shibaura Company was actually the man who first bought this land to build an apartment for his mistress. It used to be quite a fashionable address but the building has changed hands so many times now it has become quite run down…’

‘It must still have some luck left though,’ I say. ‘To have escaped all the bombs and the fires.’

‘Because it’s up on a hill,’ she says. ‘And because of the railway and the river…’

‘Do you see much of the other tenants?’ I ask. ‘Do you know your neighbours?’

‘Not really,’ she says. ‘They used to be quite fussy in their choice of tenants. But the war changed all that. It turned back the clock. It’s all hostesses and mistresses again now, balladeers and gangsters who sublet the rooms for hourly uses…’

‘This building is also used as a hotel, then?’ Nishi asks her. ‘For prostitutes and their clients?’

‘Every evening,’ she says. ‘Different women, different men.’

‘And so do you know where they solicit their clients?’

‘They work the cheap cafés near Gotanda station.’

‘Each night?’ Nishi asks. ‘Different men?’

‘The sound of laughter,’ she says. ‘And then of tears.’

I ask her, ‘And so what do you do, Mrs. Okayama?’

‘I work the cheap cafés near Gotanda station.’

Another plain woman, another shabby room, another shabby apartment, another shabby building, another shabby neighbourhood.

‘Is that how you first met Kodaira Yoshio?’

Mrs. Okayama shakes her head and says, ‘I am a widow now, but my husband was a bus driver. I met him when I worked as a bus girl. Mr. Kodaira’s wife worked as a bus girl too. That’s how I became friendly with his wife and it was her I knew first. Then, when the apartment downstairs fell vacant, I suggested Mrs. Kodaira and her husband move in. She then became pregnant and went back to her family home in Toyama to have the child. Because of the wartime situation, Mrs. Kodaira and the new baby stayed on in Toyama…’

‘And so, when his wife was evacuated to Toyama, that was when you first became intimate with Kodaira?’ asks Nishi.

‘Mr. Kodaira had to stay on in Tokyo,’ says the widow. ‘And so his wife asked my daughter and me to take good care of him. But actually it was Mr. Kodaira who took care of us as he always had some extra food, he always had sweets and tobacco…’

‘And what did he ask in exchange?’ asks Nishi. ‘For his extra food, his sweets and his tobacco…?’

‘His wife had been pregnant,’ she says. ‘And then she was evacuated. He was alone and I…’

‘Did Kodaira ever mention anyone called Tominaga Noriko?’ I ask the Widow Okayama. ‘Did he ever mention an Abe Yoshiko?’

‘I know I wasn’t the only one,’ she says. ‘I know there were even others in this very building. Others who were not widows, like me. Others whose husbands were soldiers…’

‘But did you ever hear Kodaira talk about or ever see him with a girl aged approximately seventeen to eighteen years old; a girl you might have seen wearing a yellow and dark-blue striped pinafore dress over a white half-sleeved chemise?’

I think about her all the time …

‘My daughter Kazuko had a dress just like that,’ she says. ‘Where is your daughter?’ I ask. ‘Does she live here?’ Mrs. Okayama shakes her head. ‘I sent her away.’

‘Where did you send her? When was this?’

‘May last year,’ she says. ‘To Tochigi.’

The place where Kodaira is from …

‘Did your daughter know Kodaira?’ asks Detective Nishi. ‘Did your daughter ever meet Kodaira?’

Mrs. Okayama nods. ‘Why do you think I sent her away?’

‘You sent her away because of Kodaira?’ asks Nishi. ‘Why?’

‘Because I knew he liked my daughter, not me. But she wouldn’t sleep with him and I would. He would screw me while she slept beside us; screw me while he stared at her…’

‘How often did he come here?’ asks Detective Nishi. ‘How often did you let Kodaira sleep with you?’

‘Mr. Kodaira had an appetite,’ says the Widow Okayama. ‘Mr. Kodaira was always hungry…’

‘And was Kodaira violent with it?’ I ask the widow. ‘With his appetite, with his hunger?’

She haunts me …

Mrs. Okayama shakes her head. ‘As long as you lay still.’

‘He never forced you to have sex with him?’ I ask her.

‘We had to be quiet so we did not wake my daughter.’

‘Did Kodaira ever put his hands around your neck?’

‘I said it was like pretending to be dead…’

‘Did he ever try to strangle you?’

‘He said, we already are.’

We’re already dead…

And then she says, suddenly from out of the silence, she says, ‘I think death follows him, it must follow him wherever he goes…’

Death follows us, as we follow death …

‘What do you mean?’ I ask her –

‘After I had sent my daughter away to Tochigi Prefecture, to live with my own mother, her grandmother, Mr. Kodaira kept asking and asking about her, saying we should go and visit her, saying we should see how she was, how we could go there to get kaidashi, to stock up on supplies. You don’t know him, but Mr. Kodaira is a relentless man and he is a persuasive man and so last June, this would have been about a month after my daughter left, Mr. Kodaira and I went to Tochigi to visit my mother and my daughter…’

Death is everywhere. Death is everywhere …

But Nishi can’t wait. Nishi can’t let her finish. Nishi asks, ‘You said death follows Kodaira; what do you mean?’

‘Well, I only accompanied Mr. Kodaira to Tochigi that once,’ she says. ‘But I heard from my mother and my daughter that he has been back there on a number of other occasions…’

Nishi still can’t wait, can’t let her finish. Nishi asks her again, ‘But your mother and daughter are still alive?’

‘Of course they are,’ says Mrs. Okayama. ‘But my daughter told me someone had been murdered…’

Nishi asks, ‘Murdered where?’

‘In Kanuma,’ she says. ‘Near to the house where my mother and daughter are living…’

*

Detective Nishi and I take Mrs. Okayama to the Meguro police station. We take her upstairs. We sit her in a chair at a table in an interview room. We give her a glass of cold tea. We offer her a cigarette. Then we ask her to tell us again all the things she has told us before. We ask her about her late husband. We ask her about her mother. We ask her about her daughter. We ask her about the house in Kanuma. We ask her for the dates. We ask her for the places –

Personal things. Private things …

We ask about her lover. We ask about their sex –

Dirty things …

We bow. We thank her. We send her back home. We do not tell her that her former lover is sitting in the very next interview room, smoking our cigarettes and telling us jokes –

Dirty jokes.

*

Kodaira Yoshio is sat at the interview table, enjoying a cigarette and a joke with Chief Inspector Kanehara and Inspector Kai, a dirty joke from a dirty mouth. But Kodaira still notices when Adachi and I take our seats at the back of the room, he still notices the stenographer take a seat, through the smiles and the smoke Kodaira sees it all –

‘Come on, Mr. Kodaira,’ Kanehara laughs. ‘Tell us.’

Kodaira shrugs. Kodaira smiles. ‘Tell you what?’

‘The youngest piece of pussy you’ve ever had?’

Kodaira shrugs again. Kodaira’s smile widens –

‘A man like you, you’ve had so much cunt…’

Kodaira laughing now, shakes his head –

‘Don’t be modest, we’re all friends…’

Kodaira stops laughing and sighs –

‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘It’s true I’ve had a lot of pussy and all kinds of pussy at that; Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Filipino, Russian, French, Australian, American…’

‘You’ve had American pussy?’ exclaims Inspector Kai. ‘When did you have some of that?’

‘When I was in the Imperial Japanese Navy,’ laughs Kodaira. ‘A whore in every port.’

‘Go on then, tell us,’ says Kai. ‘What’s white pussy like?’

‘It’s big and fucking hairy,’ laughs Kodaira. ‘Very big.’

‘So you prefer a tight pussy?’ asks Kai. ‘Very tight?’

‘What true Japanese man doesn’t?’ laughs Kodaira. ‘You like a big huge bucket of a cunt to slop that tiny little cock of yours around in, do you Inspector Kai? Do you…?’

And we all laugh along with him. We all laugh along with our mouths wet and our cocks hard …

‘I prefer to put it in a new pot,’ he winks. ‘A clean pot.’

‘So the tighter the pussy, the better?’ asks Kanehara –

Kodaira raises an imaginary glass and nods his head.

‘And so the younger the pussy, the better then?’

‘I like the taste of cherry on my cock,’ laughs Kodaira again. ‘What true Japanese man doesn’t like to admire the first buds upon the cherry tree and then watch the blossoms fall…?’

‘That’s very poetically put,’ says Kanehara. ‘Very poetic.’

Kodaira asks, ‘And who here doesn’t agree with me?’

And we all nod along with him. We all nod along…

‘So what is the earliest bud you’ve ever admired?’

Kodaira looks up at Kanehara and winks at him –

‘Come on,’ says Kanehara. ‘You’re teasing…’

‘I don’t really like them too young,’ admits Kodaira. ‘You see I’m a man who also likes a bit of chest, a bit of tit to suckle and to chew on, if you gentlemen understand what I mean?’

And we all nod along with him again …

‘So, generally, sixteen years old or so would be my limit…’

‘And there’s nothing wrong with that,’ says Kai –

But Kodaira doesn’t answer him. Kodaira stares at Kai and then around the room; Kodaira has stopped laughing now. Kodaira has stopped smiling now. Now Kodaira whispers, ‘But a man could have any age he wanted in China. Any age at all…’

‘And did you take any age you wanted?’ I ask him –

And Kodaira turns to look at me. And Kodaira recognizes me. And Kodaira laughs and tells me, ‘You were there, detective. I’m sure you saw what I saw. I’m sure you did what I did…’

No one laughing along, no one nodding now …

Adachi is on his feet. Adachi says, ‘Enough of this shit –’

Kodaira turns away from me. Kodaira looks at Adachi –

‘You knew a fifteen-year-old girl called Abe Yoshiko. Abe Yoshiko hung around the barracks where you work. Abe Yoshiko and three of her friends were selling their cunts to the Shinchū Gun for leftovers and scraps. You fucked Abe Yoshiko and gave her scraps. On or around the ninth of June this year, you raped her, you strangled her and then you hid her body under a burnt-out truck in the scrapyard of the Shiba Transportation Company, didn’t you…?’

Kodaira shaking his head, Kodaira whispering to himself –

‘We have witnesses,’ says Adachi. ‘We have statements.’

Kodaira nodding his head now, Kodaira muttering –

‘Be the man you are,’ shouts Adachi. ‘And confess!’

Kodaira is still. Now Kodaira says, ‘Then I did it.’

‘Did what?’ asks Adachi. ‘Tell us every detail.’

‘I killed Abe,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t rape her.’

‘Really?’ asks Adachi. ‘Tell us why not?’

Kodaira laughs, ‘She was too young.’

*

‘Excellent work, Inspector Minami,’ says Adachi. ‘Excellent work.’

‘If there’s something you want,’ I tell him. ‘Just ask me.’

‘You know what I want,’ he whispers. ‘I told you last night; I want to talk to Fujita; to talk to him about the murder of Hayashi Jo.’

‘I told you,’ I say. ‘Fujita’s gone and I don’t know where.’

‘Really?’ he says. ‘I thought a good night’s sleep might have cleared your head, might have helped you remember who your real friends are; might have helped you to see things more clearly, see things my way, the clever way, the right way, the only way…’

‘I didn’t sleep at all last night and I don’t know where he is.’

‘That’s a great shame,’ he says. ‘A very great shame.’

‘It might well be a great shame but it’s also the truth.’

‘No, it’s a great shame because it means you’re going to have to go down to the Shimbashi Market and ask your new friend Senju Akira if he knows where his old friend Fujita might have gone…’

I curse him and I curse him and I curse him …

‘If you want to know, then you go and ask Senju.’

‘But Senju Akira’s not my friend, he’s yours.’

I curse him and now I curse myself…

‘But why would Senju know anything?’

‘You’re right,’ smiles Adachi. ‘Senju might know nothing, but he’ll know a lot more after he’s finished reading the letter…’

I curse and I curse and I curse and I curse …

‘What letter?’ I ask. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The letter about Fujita,’ he smiles. ‘About you.’

I curse and I curse and I curse …

I stare at him. I ask him again, ‘What letter?’

‘Can’t you guess, Inspector Minami?’ laughs Adachi now. ‘The letter Hayashi Jo left in the drawer of his desk; the letter about Detective Fujita and Nodera Tomiji and their plot to kill Matsuda Giichi; the letter that states Hayashi told you about this plot…’

‘I’m a dead man then,’ I say. ‘It’s a death sentence.’

‘Who says you don’t always get what you want?’

‘Senju will kill me,’ I say. ‘I can’t go to him.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he says. ‘You’ll be fine.’

‘He’ll kill me and you know it.’

Adachi takes an envelope from his jacket pocket. Adachi holds it up and laughs, ‘Only if he was to actually read the letter…’

I want to kill him, here and now, in the upstairs corridor of the Meguro police station, stab him, again and again –

Blood on the blade …

Adachi pats my face. ‘Remember who your real friends are, corporal. And remember, I want Fujita!’

*

I should not have come back in here. I need a drink. I should not have sat down at this table. I need a cigarette. I should have gone straight to Senju. I need some pills. I should have gone back to Atago. I need to see Ishida. I should have gone to see my family. I need that file. I should have gone back to Yuki. I need some sleep. Anywhere but back in here, here sat at this table, here before Kodaira Yoshio –

Kodaira Yoshio leans across the table and smiles at me again and says, ‘Like I say, never heard of a Tominaga Noriko, soldier.’

‘But you knew Abe and you knew her friend Masaoka?’

‘Yes, I knew Masaoka and yes, I knew Abe Yoshiko.’

‘Tominaga Noriko was one of their group…’

He laughs. ‘There was no group, soldier.’

‘But they were all fūten together…’

Kodaira Yoshio sighs and stretches his arms high above his head and then he says, ‘It was just the two of them, soldier…’

‘There were four of them,’ I say. ‘A gang of them.’

‘Only time I ever saw groups of fūten was in China,’ he says. ‘But you’d know as much about them as I do, soldier…’

I should not have come. I should not have sat at this table –

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

‘Back in Jinan,’ he laughs. ‘I once saw a man who looked a lot like you. But he was Kempei and his name wasn’t Minami.’

*

I itch and I itch. Kodaira country. I scratch and I scratch. Kodaira country. I walk and I walk. Kodaira country. I sweat and I sweat. From Meguro towards Shimbashi. Kodaira country. The route takes me close to the Takanawa police station. Kodaira country. Near to Shinagawa. Kodaira country. This is where the initial investigation into the murder of Abe Yoshiko was based. Kodaira country. The next police station, the one before Atago, is the Mita police station –

Kodaira country. Kodaira country. Kodaira country …

I change my direction. I change my course –

Kodaira country. Kodaira country …

I go up the steps and through the doors of the Mita police station. I show my TMPD identification at the front desk. I ask to see the duty sergeant; an old man and a suspicious man, suspicious of Headquarters and suspicious of me –

My country now, not his …

I tell him who I am, why I’m here and what I want –

‘You’re from Headquarters,’ he says. ‘So I’ve no choice but to give you his name. But I tell you this, though I no longer know his address, I wouldn’t give it to you even if I did because you lot ruined his life once and no doubt you’d do it again…’

‘Then just tell me his name,’ I say. ‘And I’m gone.’

The sergeant looks away as he spits, ‘Murota…’

I turn away now, itching and scratching, gari-gari, as I walk back through the doors, back down the steps and back outside –

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

It is dark now. It is late now. But I am near.

*

I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My arms and my legs. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My back and my front. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My scalp and my groin. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My nails blood, my hands blood –

Death is everywhere. Death is everywhere …

I take the scissors from her dresser. I see black lice. I take the cover off her mirror. I see brown lice. I begin to cut. I see yellow lice. I cut the longer hairs on my head. I see grey lice. I cut the longer hairs on my body. I see white lice. Then I take the razor from her dresser. I see black lice. I open up the blade. I see brown lice. I dip the blade in the bowl of water by her bed. I see yellow lice. I have no soap but still I shave. I see grey lice. I shave off my hair. I see white lice. The hair on my head. I see black lice. The hair on my body. I see brown lice. Hair by hair. I see yellow lice. Every last strand. I see grey lice. In my scalp. I see white lice. In my groin. I see black lice. The skin beneath is red. I see brown lice. The skin beneath is raw –

I see yellow lice, I see grey lice, I see white lice…

The razor in my hand, the blade dull now –

Death is everywhere. Death is everywhere …

Black lice. Black lice. Black lice –

Death follows us as we follow death …

Yuki is awake. Her eyes open –

But we’re already dead …