Inspector Imanishi Investigates Read online

  Katazawa returned to the former conversation. “Even if it was found out that Waga had been with another woman, I don’t think his engagement to Tadokoro Sachiko would be broken off. On the contrary, the wedding might be speeded up.”

  “Why do you say that?” the playwright asked.

  “Because Sachiko is in love with Waga. She’s much more infatuated with him than he is with her.”

  “Really?”

  “When a woman finds out that she has a rival for the man she loves, she becomes even more determined. First she gets angry and jealous. But the point is what she does after that. The woman who breaks off with a man isn’t passionate about him. Women who are madly in love are the ones who want the man even more.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Takebe said. “So, does Sachiko feel that way about Waga? Waga is a lucky guy. After all, behind her is Tadokoro Shigeyoshi. With his influence and financial power, Waga can do anything he wants.”

  “But Sachiko herself says that Waga holds her father in contempt.”

  “Sachiko is a bit naive. He’s just saying that. Waga is depending on her father’s backing.”

  The actor in the beret listened silently.

  Takebe looked at his watch. “You think it’s all right to go visit him now?”

  “It’s been a while since I left, so it should be all right.”

  The two grinned at each other.

  “See you, then.”

  “See you.”

  The actor in the beret also stood up. “It was nice to meet you,” he said to the artist.

  The three men went out to the sunlit road. Katazawa returned to the parking lot and walked to his car.

  The playwright and the young actor walked through the parklike hospital garden and headed for the patients’ wing. They walked down the hallway and stood in front of a private room. Checking the number, Takebe knocked on the door.

  There was no answer. Takebe knocked again. There was still no answer. Takebe and Miyata looked at each other. At last the door opened.

  “Yes?” Sachiko peeked out. Her face was flushed. Some of her lipstick had come off. Recognizing Takebe, she smiled and said, “Oh, please come in.”

  FIVE The Woman of the Paper Blizzard

  Two months had passed since the murder when one day a man showed up at police headquarters. He handed over a business card that read: “Miki Shokichi, Proprietor, General Store, xx Street, Emi-machi, Okayama Prefecture.” Miki’s father had been missing for three months, ever since he had left on a pilgrimage to Ise Shrine. Miki wondered if his father might be the Kamata railroad yard murder victim.

  The former head of the investigation team and Imanishi Eitaro met with Miki Shokichi. Miki seemed like an upright young man in his mid-twenties. He looked just like a country merchant.

  “What were the circumstances surrounding your father’s disappearance? Could you tell us in detail?” the section chief asked.

  “Yes. My father is named Miki Ken’ichi. He turned fifty-one this year,” the young merchant began. “As you can see from my card, I run a general store in a small town in Okayama Prefecture. In fact, I am not Ken’ichi’s real son. I was adopted. Father lost his wife early and had no children. He hired me to work in his store, and then adopted me into his family. Then I married a local girl.”

  “Hm, so it’s what they call getting a son to gain a bride,” Imanishi said as he listened to Shokichi’s simple explanation.

  “Yes, that’s it. My father had never been on a pilgrimage to Ise Shrine, and he said he wanted to go once in his life. He told us that he wanted to take his time and also visit Nara and Kyoto. We thought it was a good idea and urged him to go.”

  “I see,” the section chief said.

  “We encouraged him because he had worked so hard from the time he opened the store about twenty-three years ago to make it the best in town. I know the difficulties my father has faced, so I wanted him to take this time off. When he left, he said he didn’t want to be tied to a schedule. He wanted to enjoy a lazy trip. He sent us postcards along the way.”

  “But he never came home?”

  “No, he didn’t. Since he had said he didn’t want to plan ahead, we didn’t think anything of it when he didn’t come home right away. But when it got to be three months, we started getting a little worried. So I filed a missing person report with the local police. When I filed the report, they checked their records, and the Kamata case turned up. I was shocked when I saw the police artist’s sketch of the victim’s face. I recognized my father right away. That’s why I rushed to Tokyo. I’m sorry to cause you so much trouble, but I would like to identify the victim.”

  Imanishi brought out the victim’s clothing and other belongings and showed them to Miki.

  Miki Shokichi’s face twisted in pain. “Those are definitely my father’s things. Father was from the country, so he wore this kind of worn, inexpensive clothes.” His face flushed and his voice cracked.

  “We’d like to show you some photographs, just to make sure. We’re very sorry, but we have already cremated the body. We do have a written physical description, though.”

  The photographs taken by the Identification Division showed the victim’s battered face from every angle. Miki Shokichi was so shocked he couldn’t breathe, but finally he found a few remaining identifying marks and stated that there was no mistaking his father. Then he bowed his head.

  “About how much money did your father have with him when he left on his trip to Ise Shrine?”

  Miki knew the amount. It was not a large sum, about eighty thousand yen, enough for one month’s travel expenses and lodgings.

  “Your father said that he would be traveling to Ise and Kyoto, but he died in Tokyo. Kamata is near Shinagawa. Did he have any business in that area?” Imanishi asked.

  “I’m confused about that. I have no idea why Father would have gone to Tokyo when he said he was going to travel to Ise.”

  “He never mentioned Tokyo?”

  “No, never. Father would have told us if he had planned to visit Tokyo.”

  “Since he died near Kamata Station, could he have visited someone in that area?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Was your father originally from the region where you now live?”

  “Yes, he was from Emi-machi in Okayama Prefecture,” Miki Shokichi answered.

  “You said he started his general store about twenty-three years ago. What was he doing until that time?”

  “As I said before, I was adopted after he started the store, but Father said he had been a policeman.”

  “A policeman? And where was that? Was that also in Okayama Prefecture?”

  “I think so.”

  “So he opened this general store right after he left the police force?” the section chief asked, smiling. He began to identify with the victim who had once been a policeman. “And how is the business doing now? Is it going well?”

  “Emi is a little country town in the mountains, and the population is very small, but the store has been doing well since my father opened it.”

  “Did your father have any enemies?”

  The adopted son shook his head violently. “There is no way that he could have. Everyone respected Father. As you can see from his adopting me, he was always helping others. He was so well thought of that he was forced onto the town council over his protests. There just aren’t people who are as good as Father. He looked after people with problems and everyone said he was as kind as Buddha.”

  “It is very sad that someone like that should have met with such an untimely death in Tokyo. We promise to find his murderer,” the section chief said to console the visitor. “I’d like to ask you once more if your father had any plans to visit Tokyo when he left on his tour of Ise, Kyoto, and Nara?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Had your father ever come to Tokyo before?”

  “Not as far as I know. I never heard that he had ever lived in Tokyo
or even visited Tokyo.”

  With permission from the section chief, Imanishi began to ask a few questions.

  “Is there a place called ‘Kameda’ near where you live?”

  “Kameda? No, there isn’t any place called that.” Miki Shokichi sounded certain.

  “Then, did your father have an acquaintance named Kameda?”

  “No, I’ve never heard of any such person.”

  “Miki-san, this is a very important point, so I’d like you to consider it carefully. You’re sure that the name Kameda means nothing to you?”

  Miki thought for a few minutes, but then said, “I don’t recall ever hearing that name. Who could that person be?”

  Imanishi looked over at the section chief. The section chief indicated that he could respond.

  “Your father and the person we suspect of murdering him had been drinking together at a cheap bar near the scene of the crime. We have witnesses to that effect, and according to them the name Kameda was mentioned in the conversation between your father and this other man. We’re not sure if Kameda is a person or a place, but they both knew the name.”

  The shop owner thought some more, but his response was the same. “I’ve never heard that name.”

  Imanishi changed his line of questioning. “Miki-san, did your father speak with a Tohoku accent?”

  “What?” Miki Shokichi looked startled. “No, Father didn’t have a Tohoku accent.”

  It was Imanishi’s turn to be surprised by this answer. “Are you sure of that?”

  “Yes, I’m positive. As I told you, I was a shop clerk when I was adopted, but I’ve never heard that Father lived in the Tohoku area. He was born in Emi-machi in Okayama Prefecture, so there would be no reason for him to speak with a Tohoku accent,” Miki said definitely.

  Imanishi exchanged looks with the section chief. The fact that the victim had spoken with a Tohoku accent had been one of the main clues. Relying on it, Imanishi had gone all the way to Akita Prefecture. Miki Shokichi’s response had completely negated that lead.

  “I’d like to ask you,” Imanishi pressed, “whether your father’s parents, your step-grandparents, were born in the Tohoku region?”

  Miki Shokichi answered immediately. “No, they weren’t. Father’s parents were from Hyogo Prefecture in western Japan. They have no connection to northeastern Japan at all.”

  Had the witnesses in the bar been mistaken about the victim’s accent? No, that couldn’t be. The customers and the bar girls had all repeated that the victim had spoken with a Tohoku accent. Imanishi was puzzled.

  “We’ll probably be in touch with you again about this,” the section chief said to Miki.

  “Will it be all right for me to go now?”

  “Yes, that will be fine. We’re very sorry about what happened to your father.”

  “Thank you very much.” Miki asked, “Do you have any idea who killed my father?”

  “We haven’t yet been able to identify him,” the section chief said gently. “But now that we know that the victim was your father, it will be a great help to the investigation. We now have a clearer picture of the situation. I think we’ll be able to arrest the murderer without too much difficulty.”

  Miki looked down. “But why did Father come to Tokyo?”

  This was exactly what the detectives wanted to know.

  Bowing many times, Miki Shokichi left police headquarters. Imanishi saw him to the front door. When he returned, the section chief was waiting.

  “What a problem,” the section chief said when he saw Imanishi.

  “Yes, it’s a real mess.” Imanishi grimaced. “All my assumptions so far have been completely invalidated. It’s great that we’ve finally identified the victim, but now we’re back to square one.”

  Once the meeting with the section chief was over, Imanishi had meant to go back to his office. But now he did not feel like returning to the cramped, crowded detectives’ room. He walked out to the back of the building. The thick leaves of the ginko trees towered over his head. Above the leaves was a bright white cloud filled with summer light. Imanishi stared blankly at the treetops. He was still thinking of Kameda and the Tohoku accent. Before he left for home, Imanishi called Yoshimura.

  “Yoshimura, we’ve finally identified the victim in the Kamata railroad yard case.”

  Yoshimura had already heard. “I understand he was from Okayama Prefecture.”

  “That’s right.”

  “That’s totally different from what we’d suspected, isn’t it?”

  “We were way off base,” Imanishi responded dejectedly. “But now at least we have the victim identified. I may be reassigned to your precinct again, so I might come bothering you.”

  “I hope you do.” Yoshimura sounded glad. “I can learn a lot from you if we get to work together again.”

  “Don’t say that. My theories on this case have been wrong from the beginning,” Imanishi said.

  “This is a chance to start fresh.” Yoshimura tried to reassure him.

  “I’d like to get together tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Imanishi left police headquarters shortly after that. It was still light when he got home. The days were longer, but he had also gotten home earlier than usual.

  “Why don’t you go over to the bath?” his wife said.

  “I’ll take the boy and go for a long soak then.”

  Ten-year-old Taro, their only child, ran around the house excitedly, happy that he was going out to the neighborhood bath with his father.

  When they came back from the public bath dinner was ready.

  While they were gone, Imanishi’s younger sister had come over. She lived in Kawaguchi, on the outskirts of Tokyo. Her husband worked in a foundry, but they had saved up some money and owned a small apartment building.

  “Good evening, Brother.” The sister poked her head out of the other room where she was changing out of her street clothes into some comfortable clothes she had borrowed from Imanishi’s wife.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “I just arrived.”

  Imanishi made a sour face. His sister always involved them in her fights with her husband.

  “It’s hot today, isn’t it?” she said as she plopped down beside Imanishi and started to fan herself.

  Imanishi stole a glance at her. He could tell by her expression whether or not she had just come from having a fight with her husband. He was relieved. “What is it? Have you two been at it again?” Imanishi talked this way on purpose when he knew that they hadn’t been fighting. When it was obvious that there had been a fight, he tried not to refer to it at all.

  “No, not today. Tonight he’s on the night shift, and I’m tired from helping somebody move in all day. So I’ve come for a rest.”

  “Who moved in?”

  “A new tenant for one of our apartment units.”

  “You mean the room that doesn’t get much sunlight?”

  His sister had been complaining that this room was hard to rent out.

  “She’s a single woman, about twenty-five years old. It didn’t seem like she had anyone else to help her. I felt sorry for her and pitched in.”

  “If she’s a woman alone, could she be someone’s mistress?”

  “No, she’s not. Although she does work in the entertainment district.”

  “Is she a waitress at a fancy restaurant?”

  “No, apparently a hostess in a bar in Ginza.”

  “If she’s moving into an apartment way out in Kawaguchi, she can’t be working in a very profitable bar.”

  Taking his comment as a slight, Imanishi’s sister countered indignantly, “Of course, the locations most convenient to Ginza would be Akasaka or Shinjuku. But apparently the bar customers are a real problem. They make up all sorts of excuses to see her home after the bar closes.”

  “Really? So she moved to Kawaguchi to get away from that? Where was she living?”

  “She said near Azabu
.”

  “Is she pretty?” Imanishi asked.

  “Yes, very pretty. Why don’t you come and take a look at her some time?”

  At that moment Imanishi’s wife entered the room with a bowl of watermelon slices. Imanishi’s sister stuck out her tongue, embarrassed at what she had said.

  “Please eat it while it’s cold. Taro, come over here.” Yoshiko called out to Taro who was playing in the yard and set down the bowl. “Oyuki-san says all the units in her apartment building are now rented,” she said to Imanishi.

  “So she was just telling me.”

  Sekigawa rode in a taxi with Emiko. It was almost midnight, and most of the houses along the route had closed up for the night. The only things that could be seen were what the taxi headlights picked up.

  “I’m tired,” Emiko said. “I was thinking of calling in sick today. But I forced myself to go in, since I had promised to meet you.” Emiko held Sekigawa’s hand tightly as they sat in the back seat.

  “When you moved in did you ask anyone to help you?” Sekigawa asked, looking straight ahead.

  “No. The movers carried everything into the apartment. The hard part came after that. Luckily, the woman who owns the apartment building pitched in.” She leaned against Sekigawa. “I wish you’d come to help.” Her voice was both scolding and seductive.

  “But I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Yes, I understand. But I still wish you could have.”

  Sekigawa was silent.

  “After I moved out, I realized how convenient my other place was. There was shopping close by, and it was easy to get into town. The place I’m in now seems so far away, it’s depressing. But since you insisted, I guess it couldn’t be helped,” Emiko said.

  “No, it couldn’t. And it was your fault anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” Emiko’s grip on Sekigawa’s hand tightened. “It wasn’t my fault. You were the one he saw. And even that…”

  “Stop it,” Sekigawa said, jerking his head toward the driver.

  The driver was speeding now. After they had ridden in silence for some time, they neared a lighted bridge spanning Arakawa River. Sekigawa stopped the cab after they had crossed it.

  “Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the taxi driver asked. Looking at the dark levee that extended along the river, he smirked.