Tokyo Year Zero (29 page)

‘The enquiries are still ongoing, sir.’

I curse him and I curse myself
…

‘So are you then any nearer actually identifying the body?’

I meet his eyes now. I stare back at him. I say, ‘No.’

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
…

‘That’s enough,’ says Chief Kita –

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
…

Now the chief stands up –

It’s finished. It’s over
…

And we all stand up and all bow and now all start to leave –

‘Chief Inspector Adachi,’ says the chief. ‘Please wait.’

Chief Inspector Adachi bows and sits back down.

‘And Inspector Minami, please wait outside.’

I bow my head. Then I step outside.

*

Thirty minutes later Chief Inspector Adachi steps out of Chief Kita’s office into the corridor. Chief Inspector Adachi stands in front of me and says, ‘The chief would like to see you now, Inspector Minami.’

I nod and I thank him. But I sit and I wait until he is gone –

Now I open the door. I step back inside the chief’s office –

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

‘
It is time to reveal the true essence of the nation
…’

‘Please sit down,’ he says. ‘You look tired…’

I bow. I apologize. I thank him. I sit down –

Then he asks, ‘What happened at Keiō ?’

‘The landlady believes that the clothes found on the body in Shiba Park are not the same as those worn by Tominaga Noriko.’

‘So you said,’ says the chief. ‘And so?’

I shake my head. ‘And that’s it.’

‘But you were convinced that this missing girl could be the body at Shiba Park,’ says the chief. ‘You know the landlady could be mistaken about the clothes. You must have found out more?’

I shake my head again. I say, ‘I’m sorry. No.’

‘You’ve nothing else to say, then?’

I say again, ‘I’m sorry. No.’

Things not to say
…

‘So why were you down at Mita police station last night?’

I have no answer. I say nothing. There is nothing to say.

‘You went there to try to find the name of the officer who was dismissed over Abe, didn’t you, detective? Didn’t you?’

I bow my head now. I say, ‘I am sorry, sir.’

‘You went there even after I told you now was not the time, didn’t you, detective? You still went there, directly disobeying me.’

My head still bowed, I say again, ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Did they tell you his name?’ asks the chief.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘They told me his name.’

‘Did they tell you his address?’

‘No, they did not.’

‘But you still found it out, didn’t you?’ asks the chief. ‘You still went to see Murota, didn’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I…’

‘Did you ever stop to think why I said now was not the time to be asking about Murota? Did you, detective?’ the chief asks me –

My head still low, I apologize. I apologize and I apologize –

‘Did you ever stop to think I might have had a reason?’

I apologize and I apologize and again, I apologize –

‘Did you ever think of anyone but yourself in this?’

I apologize and I apologize again, over and over –

‘Do you ever think of anyone but yourself…?’

I say, ‘I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry…’

The chief leans forward now. The chief whispers, ‘You are being watched. You are being followed. Everywhere you go –

‘Did you know that? Did you even suspect that?’

My head still bowed, I say, ‘I had no idea…’

‘The Public Safety Division has been sniffing around again, seeking to draw up fresh lists of the guilty. There are rumours of a second Purge Directive, this time against lower ranking officers…

‘They are trying to match histories to names…

‘And yours is one of the names…’

I curse him and I curse myself
…

I want to know what he knows.
I curse him!
I want to know what he has heard.
I curse myself!
I want to know how he knows what he knows.
I curse him!
I want to know who told him what he knows.
I curse myself!
But I don’t ask anything or say anything –

I just curse him and I curse myself
…

Because there’s nothing to say –

No point. No point. No point –

Chiku-taku. Chiku-taku
…

No point. No point –

Chiku-taku
…

I am out of time –

‘I don’t know if these are just shots in the dark,’ the chief is saying now. ‘Or if they have some actual information, some witnesses or statements but, either way, it is best you get lost…’

‘Best I get lost?’ I repeat. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I want you to go up to Tochigi,’ he says.

‘Tochigi Prefecture? When?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he says –

Now the chief picks up a file and passes it across his desk. ‘Yesterday we actually had a call from the Utsunomiya Chihō Kensatsu-chō, the Utsunomiya District Public Prosecutor’s Office, about two unsolved murders in their jurisdiction that they wanted to pass on to the Kodaira investigation team. One of the murders was your Baba Hiroko and the other was a Numao Shizue, aged sixteen, who was found stabbed on the thirtieth of December last year, in the
jurisdiction of the Nikkō police. Baba Hiroko, as you know, was found strangled with her own scarf on the third of January in Nishi Katamura, in the jurisdiction of the Kanuma Police…

‘But Baba Hiroko was actually living here in Kyōbashi Ward so, before you go up to Tochigi tomorrow, I think it would be a good idea to first speak to her family in Tokyo…’

I say, ‘I want to take Nishi…’

‘No,’ says the chief.

‘Am I to go alone?’

‘Chief Inspector Adachi has recommended young Ishida…’

‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘I don’t think he’s a suitable officer –’

‘This is not a debate,’ says the chief. ‘This is an order.’

I bow my head again. I apologize again, and again –

And then I ask, ‘How long should I stay away?’

‘Only for a couple of days,’ says the chief –

Now I ask, ‘And then what happens?’

The chief clears his throat. The chief stands behind his desk. Now the chief says, ‘Inspector Minami, as of midnight tonight, I am forced to relieve you of your command of Room #2…’

I am on my knees. I am on my knees
…

‘There have been complaints about you…’

I am on my knees in his office
…

‘Complaints from your own men…’

On my knees, on his floor
…

‘Complaints about your lack of leadership,’ says the chief. ‘Your lack of organization. Complaints about your inability to command. Your inability to delegate. Complaints about the continued absence of Detective Fujita and about your own absences…’

On his floor. In his office. On my knees
…

‘But you tell me to lead my men and then you send me away and you demote me. Who will lead my men now …? Who will take charge of this case …? Please give me a second chance…’

Begging him, pleading with him
…

‘In the continued absence of Detective Fujita, I’m promoting Detective Hattori under the supervision of Chief Inspector Adachi.’

‘And what happens to me when I get back…?’

Pleading for a second chance
…

‘Until this situation is clarified, you will be assigned to a local police station upon your return from Tochigi…’

‘And so what about my transfer…?’

Begging for a second chance
…

‘There will be no transfer…’

No second chance
.

*

There is no route back to Atago today.
In the half-light
. I walk down the stairs into the bar.
They are following me
. There are only two other customers at the counter; the same middle-aged woman, now dressed in brown, smelling of local perfume and smoking Golden Bat cigarettes; the same old man in his dark suit, taking out his pocket watch and winding it up and putting it away again, then taking it out and winding it up and putting it away again, then –

Chiku-taku. Chiku-taku. Chiku-taku
…

The woman opens her purse. The woman places chocolates on the bar. The woman says, ‘Please help yourself…’

But they taste bitter. They taste of ash –

The
bakudan
explodes in my belly –

The man shows me the watch –

It still says twelve o’clock –

But in the half-light –

His watch has no hands and we both have no feet.

*

Through the doors of the borrowed police station. I have a shaved head. Up the stairs of the borrowed police station. I have a bandaged hand. To the borrowed second-floor room. I have a pair of bloody knees. Hattori, Takeda, Sanada, Shimoda, Nishi, Kimura and Ishida. I have a broken heart. They are all here and they already know –

I am not the head of the room. I am not their boss
…

Now they all look away. They all hide their eyes –

Their eyes full of questions. Eyes full of doubts
…

Eyes full of whispers, rumours and complaints
…

I have nothing to say to any one of them –

I hate them. I hate them. I hate them all
…

I walk over to Takeda’s borrowed desk and I bow and I thank him for all his hard work and for all his help. I walk over to Sanada’s
borrowed desk and I bow and I thank him for all his hard work and for all his help. I walk over to Shimoda’s desk and I bow and I thank him for all his hard work, for all his help –

I hate them all. I hate them all
…

I stand before Nishi’s desk and I bow and I thank him for all his hard work and for all his help and I wish him luck. I turn to Kimura and I bow and I thank him for all his hard work and for all his help and I wish him luck. Then I bow and I thank Ishida for all his hard work and I wish him luck –

I will see him again
…

I walk over to Detective Hattori’s desk and I bow low and I congratulate him on his promotion and I wish him luck in his promotion and with the investigation and I thank him for all his hard work and all his help –

I hate him
…

Finally, I stand before them all and I bow deeply and I apologize to them for my lack of leadership, my lack of organization, my inability to command, my inability to delegate and my absences –

‘I am sorry,’ I say. ‘And I hope to earn your forgiveness.’

*

It is night now.
They are following me
. It is hot still.
They are following me
. I have places to visit, people to see before we leave for Tochigi tomorrow afternoon.
They are following me
. The sound of a balladeer and his guitar trails me up the hill as I walk away from Shibuya station.
They are following me
. I don’t recognize the words of the song, I don’t recognize the music.
They are following me
. I stop at the mouth of the dark alley.
They are following me
. I glance back down the hill.
They are following me
. I sit down on a broken wall.
They are following me
. I take off my hat and I fan myself –

They are following me. They are still following me
…

I put on my hat and I stand back up. I walk down the alley and I knock on the door. I slide it open and I make my apologies –

‘But I have some good news,’ I tell her –

Tominaga Noriko’s landlady looks up from another shabby low table in another shabby little room in another shabby little house in another shabby neighbourhood –

‘Noriko’s not dead.’

There are questions and doubts in her red eyes now, questions and doubts among the tears, the tears she has wept since she glanced up at the clothing lain out on that autopsy table –

‘The clothes were not hers,’ I tell her –

Hope among the questions now, hope among the doubts, hope that cries, ‘Really? So Noriko is still alive?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I saw her today.’

Hope that asks, ‘Is she coming back, then? Back here?’

‘I don’t know,’ I tell her. ‘But I don’t think so…’

No more questions, no more doubts and no more hope now, only rage and only grief that shouts and screams out –

‘Then she’s still dead to me, detective!’

*

The Shimbashi New Life Market is back in business. But among the kettles and the pans, the crockery and the utensils, among the clothes and the shoes, the cooking oil and the soy sauce, among the fruit and the vegetables, the sardines and the second-hand suits, the coffee and the silk, in their patterned shirts and their American sunglasses, Senju’s men are still licking their wounds, still counting their dead –

Sharpening old blades and swearing new oaths –

Exchanging sake cups with any old soldier –

‘Let’s all sing the Apple Song’

These are desperate times…

But defiant times –

‘Let them come in their hundreds,’ Senju Akira is telling me. ‘Let them come in their thousands. For I am assembling the largest organization of patriotic Japanese men this country has seen since the end of the war. Then let the Chinese, the Koreans and the Formosans try to take away what has been left us, the little that has been left us by the many that sacrificed themselves before us –

‘For I tell you this, in the centuries to come, generations of Japanese, generations who will be living only because of our stand, these generations will hear tales of the things we did to protect our fellow countrymen and save the Japanese nation and they will shed tears for us under the cherry blossoms and raise their glasses under the full moon and pray for our souls at Yasukuni, honouring us as the true keepers of the Japanese spirit…’

I have no time for this –

Chiku-taku
…

I bow lower on the tatami. I say, ‘I am very sorry to trouble you at a time like this…’

‘I am always happy to see an old friend,’ says Senju now. ‘And I was worried about you, detective. I’d begun to think you might be avoiding me. I’d even begun to think that maybe we weren’t really friends, that maybe you only came to see me when you wanted something from me, when you wanted money or wanted drugs…’