Points And Lines Read online

  And there was yet another serious objection. Evidence that strongly supported Yasuda's statement was his signature on the passenger list of the Sei-kan ferry. This alone was enough to destroy Mihara's assumptions.

  But Mihara refused to surrender to the overwhelming evidence. He held something against Yasuda that was strong enough to override these contradictions. It was his instinctive suspicion of Yasuda, his disbelief in the man's story. It was something he could not explain to others.

  "Excuse me." The conductor interrupted his train of thought. The streetcar had reached the end of the line; the other passengers had already left. Mihara got off and changed to the Chūō Line which would take him back to the center of town. Yasuda was exceptionally clever, he was thinking. He had planned well, but there had to be a weak point somewhere. Where could it be?

  Mihara was sitting in the train by an open window, the wind in his face. He was absorbed in his thoughts, his eyes half closed. Some forty minutes later he looked up suddenly and stared blankly at the advertisements across the aisle. Something had occurred to him. He thought again about seeing the signature of Yoshio Ishida, the X Ministry official, when he had checked the passenger register of the ferry at Hakodate.

  "We know a little more now about Yoshio Ishida," said Chief Inspector Kasai. He explained to Mihara that Ishida was very sensitive on account of the scandal within the ministry and he had to act with prudence. The man could not be questioned directly. When he said he knew a little more about him he meant that he had been able to obtain information through other channels.

  "We know that Ishida made the trip to Hokkaido on January 20. He left Tokyo from Ueno Station at 7:15 P.M. on the express Towada and arrived at Sapporo on the Marimo at 8:34 P.M. on the twenty-first. These are the same trains that Yasuda took." The chief had a copy of Ishida's schedule. It showed that the division chief had not left the train at Sapporo but had gone on to Kushiro. From there, he had made a tour of the eastern area of Hokkaido for which his office was responsible.

  "I had my informant inquire about Tatsuo Yasuda. He confirmed the fact that both men were on the same train as far as Sapporo. Yasuda was also traveling second class but he was in a different coach. I'm told he came by several times to talk to Ishida so was clearly identified. Moreover, Yasuda is well known, for he is often seen at the ministry."

  Mihara was bitterly disappointed. Once again, there was someone ready to testify that Yasuda was on the train. And this time it was not a witness provided by Yasuda. Ishida was a high ranking official; his itinerary for the trip to Hokkaido must have been arranged many days before. His name was on the passenger list of the ferry. There was not even a shred of doubt.

  Mihara could not hide his disappointment. The chief got up from his desk, "Come on," he said, "the weather is fine. Let's take a walk."

  Outside, it was warm and sunny. The bright sunlight was a sign of approaching summer. Men were walking about in their shirtsleeves. Coming out of their dark office in the Metropolitan Police Board building, their eyes were dazzled by the strong light. They crossed the street through heavy traffic and strolled along the palace moat. The white walls of the palace towers reflected the brilliant sunshine. Coming to an empty bench, they sat down. To the passers-by, they looked like a couple of company employees escaping from the office for a brief respite.

  "While you were in Hokkaido I had the relations between Sayama and Otoki checked," the chief said. He took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Mihara.

  Mihara looked at him. He had investigated the two who had committed suicide. For a moment he could not understand the reason. What did the chief have in mind?

  "It probably wasn't necessary to check the relations of two people so intimate that they committed double suicide, but I wanted to be absolutely sure," the chief explained as if answering Mihara's unspoken question. "You know, they must have been meeting very secretly because nobody really knows anything about them. The girls at the Koyuki Restaurant were astonished that Otoki had committed suicide with Sayama. Waitresses usually learn about these love affairs very quickly, but in this case they didn't even suspect them. However…" The chief stopped and drew deeply on his cigarette as if to impress Mihara with the importance of what he was about to say.

  "However, it's certain that Otoki had a lover. She lived alone in a small apartment where she received many telephone calls. According to the caretaker of the building, it was always a woman's voice on the telephone and she gave the name of Aoyama. Sometimes, when he took the message, he could hear music in the background, so the call might have come from a coffee shop or some similar place. The caretaker believes that she was calling Otoki for someone else, and he's sure that when Otoki came to the phone a man took over. Each time Otoki got a phone call from the woman she would immediately get dressed and go out. This went on for six months, until her death. She never had a man visit her in her apartment. She appears to have been very discreet in her relations with men."

  "Do you believe the phone calls were from Sayama?" Mihara asked. He was feeling very uneasy.

  "It was probably Sayama. We had Sayama checked also, but that was even less profitable. He had always been a man of few words, I'm told, and in addition, was very shy. Not the type to talk to others about his love affairs. Since we know that he committed suicide with Otoki they must have been lovers."

  There was something unconvincing in the way the chief announced his conclusion which increased Mihara's misgivings.

  "Then I had Tatsuo Yasuda's private life checked." The chief looked up at the pine trees across the palace moat. A palace guard was standing at the top of the stone wall.

  Mihara stared at him. He realized that while he was in Hokkaido invisible currents had been eddying around the chief. Yet Inspector Kasai, after all, was only one of the figures in the investigation.

  "We didn't have much luck there either," Kasai stated bluntly. "Tatsuo Yasuda apparently visits his wife once a week. So it's more than likely that he has affairs with other women. But there's no evidence of this. If he does have a mistress, he's very clever about keeping it a secret. This is merely an assumption, of course; Yasuda may be a faithful husband. They seem to be a devoted couple."

  Mihara nodded. This had been his impression also when he called on Mrs. Yasuda.

  "It would appear that Otoki, Sayama and Yasuda, if he does have a mistress, are all very skillful at keeping their love affairs secret."

  His words struck Mihara forcibly. What had been only a slight hint suddenly became clear.

  "Chief, has there been some new development?" He tried to suppress his excitement.

  "Yes," Chief Kasai replied. "The section chief has become interested in this double suicide!"

  Mihara knew at once what this signified. The section chief was being subjected to pressure from higher up.

  Mihara's surmise was correct, Inspector Kasai admitted.

  When Mihara came into the office the following day the chief called him over to his desk.

  "I want you to hear this. Ishida sent us a message." He placed his arms on the desk, his hands clasped. It was a typical gesture when perplexed. "He didn't come in person. He sent someone from the ministry. Ah, here's the man's card."

  The visiting card read: "Kitarō Sasaki, Official of X Ministry." Mihara looked at it, waiting for the chief to speak.

  "Ishida said that he had been questioned the other day about Tatsuo Yasuda and when he found that the interrogation originated with the Metropolitan Police Board he decided to present his statement to us directly. He said that on his official trip to Hokkaido on January 20, Yasuda was on the same train. They were in different coaches but Yasuda dropped by to talk to him from time to time. If we want this corroborated we can question Katsuzō Inamura, an official of the Hokkaido government, who joined him in his coach some time after Otaru. Inamura was on the train from Hakodate, and when Yasuda came to say goodbye, before getting off at Sapporo, he introduced the two men. Inamura would undoubtedly rememb
er the meeting. That's the gist of his statement."

  "He really went out of his way to protect Yasuda, didn't he?" Mihara observed.

  "You can look at it that way, of course. But perhaps he wanted simply to cooperate with the police when he found we were investigating him." The chief was smiling. The meaning of the smile did not escape Mihara.

  "What do you suppose the relations between Ishida and Yasuda are?"

  "One is a government official, the other a manufacturer doing business with the government. I leave the connection to your imagination. Just remember that Ishida is the principal suspect in the government bribery case. However, we have found nothing between them that is suspicious. Of late, Yasuda has been doing a good deal of business with that ministry, so I am quite sure he has been giving presents to the division chief. Ishida's willingness to protect Yasuda may be in return for these favors." The chief was pulling his fingers until the joints cracked.

  "Even so, even if true, there's little we can do. As a matter of course, I sent a wire to Hokkaido for confirmation of Ishida's statements, but I expect nothing new in the reply. What it all amounts to is that Yasuda was not lying when he said he was on the Marimo on January 21."

  One more witness to testify that Yasuda was on the Marimo! Mihara returned to his desk, deeply discouraged.

  It was past noon. Mihara went up to the dining hall on the fifth floor of the Metropolitan Police Board building. The room was the size of a small department store restaurant. Sunlight poured in through the tall windows. Mihara had no appetite. He ordered a cup of tea and while sipping it, started to write in his notebook:

  Yasuda's trip to Hokkaido:

  His signature on the passenger register of the Sei-kan ferry. (No. 17. Connects with the Marimo at Hakodate.)

  Division Chief Ishida's statement.

  After passing Otaru, Ishida introduced a Hokkaido government official to Yasuda.

  Yasuda met Kawanishi at Sapporo Station.

  Deep in thought, Mihara sat staring at his memo. The four items looked irrefutable; they were like four concrete blocks placed one on top of the other. But they must be toppled, he decided. They absolutely had to be pulled down. How could the express Satsuma, leaving Hakata in Kyushu at 7:24 on the twenty-first possibly be connected with the express Marimo arriving at Sapporo at 8:34 the same day. It was impossible. Impossible of course, meant that it could not be. But, but… Tatsuo Yasuda did actually appear at Sapporo Station in Hokkaido. Holding his head in both hands, Mihara looked at his memo for the tenth time. Then, suddenly, he noticed something strange.

  The train had passed Otaru when Inamura of the Hokkaido government was said to have been introduced to Yasuda. Yasuda was reported to have come from another coach to say goodbye to Ishida. Wasn't it curious that he should put in an appearance only after the train had passed Otaru Station? Ishida, Inamura and Yasuda boarded the Marimo at Hakodate but occupied different coaches. Why did Inamura get to meet Yasuda only after they had passed Otaru? Hadn't Yasuda called on Ishida from time to time during the journey?

  Mihara took the timetable from his pocket. He saw that it took five hours by express from Hakodate to Otaru. Yasuda was on intimate terms with the division chief; surely he would not have avoided him during those five hours. Why didn't Yasuda ride in the same coach with Ishida and spend the time chatting with him? Of course it could have been diffidence on Yasuda's part, but there was no reason for not calling on him once during those five hours.

  Inamura was a disinterested witness. He said he had met Yasuda for the first time after the train had passed Otaru. Could it be that Tatsuo Yasuda had boarded the Marimo at Otaru station?

  The question flashed through Mihara's mind. If true, it would explain why they had met only after passing Otaru. It would also explain why Yasuda claimed to be in a different coach: he didn't want it known that he had come aboard at Otaru. He appeared before Ishida and Inamura as soon as the train pulled out of Otaru station, leaving Inamura with the impression he had been aboard since Hakodate.

  Mihara thought he saw a ray of light piercing the gloom that had enveloped him. Something was vaguely taking shape. His heart beat faster.

  But Yasuda could not have boarded the express at Otaru.

  To do so, he would have to leave Hakodate on an earlier train than the Marimo in order to reach Otaru in time. With the available train connections, this was not possible.

  But the thought that Yasuda might have gotten on at Otaru made Mihara pursue it further. It was hard to believe; he was not ready to accept it, but he felt there was something to the possibility. He finished his cup of tea that was now quite cold and left the dining hall. His mind was in a turmoil and he walked down the stairs in a daze.

  Why did Yasuda get on the Marimo at Otaru station? Why should he want to get on at Otaru? Mihara kept turning the question over and over in his mind. If Yasuda did get on at Otaru, then he must have taken a train that left before the Marimo. The earlier train was the Akashiya, leaving Hakodate at 11:39. Still earlier were two local trains and an express which left at 6 A.M. But all of these were completely out of the question, of course.

  To Mihara, Yasuda had to be situated at the scene of the double suicide in Kyushu between the hours of 10 and 11 on the night of the twentieth. He would look for the reasons later; Yasuda simply had to be there. But in order to get to Hokkaido from Hakata there was only the one express to Tokyo the following morning, leaving at 7:24. No matter which way he looked at it he encountered the same dead end.

  "Without wings," he muttered to himself, "Yasuda couldn't possibly be in Hokkaido at that hour." Suddenly, he missed his step and fell on the stairs. The stairwell was brightly lighted.

  He stifled a cry. Why hadn't he thought of it before? His ears were ringing. Picking himself up, he ran back to his office. He found the timetable and quickly turned to the back pages. This was the section reserved for Japan Airlines. His hands were unsteady. He read the flight schedule for the month of January:

  Fukuoka 8:00 A.M…Tokyo 12:00 P.M. (Flight No. 302)

  Tokyo 1:00 P.M…Sapporo 4:00 P.M. (Flight No. 503)

  "I've got it!" Mihara took a deep breath. His ears were still ringing.

  By plane, Yasuda could leave Hakata at 8 A.M. and arrive at Sapporo at four in the afternoon. Why hadn't this occurred to him before? He had concentrated on trains and could see no alternative to the Satsuma Express leaving Hakata at 7:24. He felt like pounding his stupid head. At long last his mind was clear of the fixation.

  He telephoned the airline office. He asked how long it took to get from the Sapporo airport, located at Chitose, to the city proper.

  "The bus takes about an hour and twenty minutes," he was informed. "From the bus terminal to the Sapporo railway station is a ten-minute walk."

  Adding an hour and thirty minutes to 4:00 made 5:30. Yasuda could be at Sapporo station by 5:30. There were still three hours before the Marimo arrived at 8:34. Where was Yasuda during that time and what was he doing?

  Mihara checked the schedule of the main line trains to Hakodate. He found a local leaving Sapporo at 5:40 that arrived at Otaru at 6:44. Next, he turned to the schedule of trains going to Sapporo on the same line. There was the Marimo Express, leaving Hakodate at 2:50 and arriving at Otaru at 7:51. This left an interval of an hour and seven minutes between the two trains. Yasuda would have a leisurely wait at Otaru Station before boarding the Marimo and heading back to Sapporo. He must have met Inamura shortly after boarding the train.

  Why Yasuda had met Inamura for the first time after passing Otaru now became clear. Yasuda hadn't waited at Sapporo for three hours. Upon reaching the airport bus terminal, he hurried over to the Sapporo railway station and caught the local train for Otaru that left ten minutes later. At Sapporo he had had only ten minutes; at Otaru, a little over one hour. Yasuda had taken the greatest advantage of the least amount of time.

  Mihara was reminded of the use the man had made of the four minutes between trains at Tokyo Station. H
e was impressed. Yasuda, he decided, was extraordinarily skillful in his employment of time.

  He reported at once to Inspector Kasai. He went into detail, showing him the timetables. His voice betrayed his excitement.

  "You've got it, I believe!" Kasai looked keenly at Mihara. His eyes seemed almost angry, reflecting his own excitement. "A fine job! This breaks Yasuda's alibi, although it seems odd to call it an alibi."

  "I don't find it strange," Mihara insisted. "Up to now we believed that Yasuda could not have been at the scene of the suicides at the time they were committed. That is no longer true."

  "You say it's no longer true that Yasuda could not have been there," the chief said, tapping the edge of his desk with his fingers. "Then do you believe it possible that he could have been there?"

  "Certainly," Mihara replied, a note of triumph in his voice.

  "You'll have to prove it," the chief said, again looking straight at Mihara.

  "I can't do it right away. Give me time." He looked a little hurt.

  "What you want to say is that there are still many points that are unclear. Isn't that it?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "For instance, that Yasuda's alibi has been broken, but not completely."

  The chief's face wore a curious expression. Mihara understood at once. "You are referring to Ishida's statements."

  "Hmm!" Their eyes met and held for a few seconds. It was Kasai who looked away first. "Don't worry about Ishida. I'll take care of that." His voice was firm. The words were cryptic but Mihara knew what they meant. There was no need to explain; that could come later. They understood each other well.