Sekigawa’s expression hardened. “What time is it now?”
Emiko looked at her watch, which lay next to the pillow. “It’s ten minutes past twelve.”
Without a word Sekigawa got up. Emiko watched him get dressed with a resigned look on her face.
“Are you going home? I know you have to, but I’d like you to stay over sometime.”
“Don’t be impossible,” Sekigawa scolded as he put on his undershirt and his trousers. “I’ve already explained it to you. I can’t leave after it’s light.”
“Of course, I understand. But I can’t help asking.”
Sekigawa walked to the door and opened it a crack. No one was in the hallway. He sneaked out into the hall. He could hear the sound of the mah-jongg pieces as he passed by the student’s door on his way to the toilet.
Sekigawa was cautious on his way back, too. He muffled the sound of his slippers. A door opened. The movement was so sudden, it took Sekigawa by surprise. A student stopped in his tracks, startled at seeing another person. The hallway was narrow with no place to hide. Sekigawa turned his head away and kept walking.
As he reached Emiko’s door, he turned around. The student looked back at Sekigawa at the same time. Their eyes met.
When Sekigawa had returned to Emiko’s room and closed the door, he stood very still.
“What happened?” Emiko asked, raising herself from the mattress. “Why do you look so angry?”
He didn’t answer. He sat on the tatami and, taking a cigarette, started to smoke. Emiko got up from the mattress and came over to him.
“Did something happen?” She looked closely at him.
Sekigawa whispered, “The student saw me.”
His voice was so low, Emiko couldn’t hear. “What did you say?”
“He saw my face.”
Emiko’s eyes widened. “Who saw you?”
“The student across the hall.” Sekigawa pressed the hand holding his cigarette against his forehead.
Emiko watched him, saying, “Don’t worry. You just passed each other.”
“That’s not all. When I turned around, he looked right at me.”
“Really?”
“He saw my face straight on.”
Emiko watched Sekigawa. After a while she said, smiling reassuringly, “There’s nothing to worry about. He probably didn’t really see your face. He couldn’t recognize you from one glance and won’t remember your face for long. Besides, the light in the hallway is terrible. If he’d seen you during the day that might be a problem. But you don’t have to worry now.”
Sekigawa continued to fret. “I just hope he didn’t recognize me.”
“I’m sure he didn’t. What did he look like?”
“He was round-faced, kind of stocky…”
Emiko nodded. “Then it’s not him, it’s not the one who lives across the hall. He’s tall and thin. You probably saw one of his friends. So he’d be even less likely to recognize you.”
“A friend of his?”
“Relax.” Emiko frowned at him reproachfully. “You’re too touchy, even about small things. We’ve been together for a year now, but you’re always so edgy,” she sighed.
“I’m leaving,” Sekigawa said, standing up abruptly.
Emiko wordlessly helped him get his things together.
Sekigawa went out to the hallway. He crept quietly to the head of the stairs. No student appeared this time. He could hear the noise of the mah-jongg pieces mixed with the students’ voices. He crept down the stairs and put on his shoes. He went out the entryway and closed the sliding door. Once outside the gate, he felt a sense of relief.
All the houses along the street had their night shutters closed. The street was empty. Sekigawa walked down the darkened street toward the main street to hail a taxi. He was still upset. Students these days were lazy. What did they mean by playing mah-jongg all night long? The student might not have recognized his face, but he was afraid that the student would remember him.
When he reached the main street, he saw a stream of taxi headlights. Few were empty. Most of the silhouetted passengers were couples. Finally an empty taxi came by, and Sekigawa raised his arm to stop it.
“Take me to Nakano.”
“Yes, sir.”
The driver sped down the road alongside the streetcar tracks.
“You’re out late.” The driver tried to start up a conversation.
“Yeah, I was playing mah-jongg with some friends,” Sekigawa said, lighting a cigarette. “How’s business these days?”
“I’d say better than last year.”
“They say few cabs are empty these days. The economy must be good. Not long ago there were a lot of empty taxis except for rush hour and when it rained, but that’s all over now. I hear the Transportation Ministry has approved an increase in the number of cabs, so taxi companies must be happy.”
“No, they’re not. My company is one of the bigger ones, but they’re only getting ten more licenses. The company’s pretty mad at the Ministry.”
“I understand they meant to make more licenses available to new companies rather than to the established companies.”
The taxi driver suddenly changed the subject and asked, “Mister, are you from the northeast, from Tohoku?”
“How could you tell?” Sekigawa was caught off guard.
“By your accent. No matter how long you’ve been in Tokyo, I can tell. I’m from northern Yamagata myself. Listening to your accent, I’d say you’re from Akita. How about that, am I wrong?”
“No, that’s pretty close,” Sekigawa said, scowling.
FOUR Unsolved
The investigation had reached an impasse. Even with eight full-time investigators on loan from the Homicide Division of the Metropolitan Police Force helping fifteen local precinct investigators, not one concrete lead had turned up. Morale at headquarters hit bottom.
The two dozen investigators assigned to the Kamata case were all gathered in the gym room of the local precinct station. The chief of detectives of the Metropolitan Police, who was nominally in charge, did not appear at this meeting. The deputy chief, who was head of the Homicide Division, and the local precinct chief were there in his stead.
At each place was a cup filled with sake. Plates of snacks were scattered about the table. The detectives sat around looking depressed. When a case was solved, the final party to disband the investigation team was a happy occasion. But when the case was closed unsolved, the party became a wake.
The head of Homicide stood up.
“I want to thank each of you for all you’ve done during this long investigation,” he began in a discouraged voice. “A month has passed since this investigation headquarters was established. Your efforts during that time have been extraordinary. Unfortunately, with no strong leads to follow, we must now close this headquarters. This is truly regrettable.” He looked around at the assembled men who listened with downcast eyes. “However, this does not mean that all investigation into this case must cease. We will continue to investigate on a voluntary basis. When I look back on this case, I think that we may have been too optimistic at the beginning. Because there was so much evidence at the scene of the crime, we felt sure of an early solution. Although the identity of the victim was unknown, I think we were too sure that, with so much evidence available, we would soon learn who he was. We found the murder weapon as well as witnesses who had seen the victim and the probable murderer. But despite your unstinting efforts, we have had no further results. Now it seems necessary to reevaluate our initial assessment.”
