mistress.”
Imanishi said good-bye to Yoshimura and went home alone. His house was on a bus route in Takinogawa, and it shook every time a bus went by. His wife was tired of the noise and wanted to move, but they couldn’t find anything they could afford. In the ten years they had lived there, the area had changed completely. Large new buildings had been built where old houses had been destroyed, and apartment houses now filled the empty lots. One of these apartment buildings had been built nearby, and because of it Imanishi’s house had not gotten any sunlight for the last three years. When he turned down the narrow street to his house, he could see a moving van in front of the apartment building.
Imanishi tugged open his sliding front door, which tended to stick.
“I’m home,” he announced as he took off his shoes.
“Welcome home. You’re very early today.” Yoshiko came to the entryway with a welcoming smile.
Silent, Imanishi walked to the back of the small house. In the tiny garden were miniature bonsai trees he had bought at outdoor markets.
“Hey,” Imanishi said to his wife as she folded his clothes to put away, “I don’t have to go to Kamata tomorrow. I’m back at police headquarters.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“I’ll probably be home early from now on.”
Noticing his flushed face, Yoshiko asked, “Did you stop off somewhere for a drink?”
“I stopped off at Shibuya with Yoshimura and had some beer.”
“That’s nice.”
“Where’s the boy?”
“My mother came by and took him home with her. Tomorrow is a holiday, so she’ll bring him back before bedtime.”
Tying his obi around the kimono he wore at home, Imanishi went to sit on the veranda. He could hear the neighborhood children playing outdoors.
Imanishi asked, suddenly remembering, “Did someone new move into that apartment building?”
“Yes, did you see something?”
“A truck was parked out front.”
His wife came and stood next to him. “I heard the neighbors saying that the person who moved in is an actress.”
“That’s an unusual type for this place.”
“You’re right. I don’t know who heard about it, but it’s quite the talk around here.”
“If she’s moving into that apartment, she can’t be much of an actress,” Imanishi said, pounding his shoulder to get the kinks out.
“They say she’s not a movie actress. She acts in plays. That’s why she doesn’t earn much.”
When they had finished supper, Imanishi suddenly asked his wife, “What’s the date today?”
“June fourteenth.”
“It’s a day with a four in it, so it’s the day of the temple fair at Togenuki Jizo in Sugamo. Shall we go, for a change?”
“Yes, let’s.” Yoshiko started to get ready to go out. “I suppose you’re going to buy another bonsai plant?”
“I don’t know if I will or not.”
“We don’t have any space to put any more plants in the garden. Please don’t buy any more.”
“All right, I won’t.”
Imanishi intended to buy a plant if he saw one that he particularly liked. It might help put the case out of his mind.
At Sugamo they got off the streetcar, crossed the large square, and walked down a street lined with shops. Outdoor stalls were set up along the narrow street to the temple. Though it was late and many people were heading home, it was still crowded. The glare of bare light bulbs brightened the stalls, shining on people who had gathered to scoop for goldfish, or to buy cotton candy, bags, games, toys, or herbal medicines.
The Imanishis walked to the Jizo temple to offer a prayer. Then they took their time inspecting the festival activities.
There were several nurseries displaying a variety of potted plants. Imanishi stood in front of one of the stalls. His wife pulled at his sleeve, but the bonsai lover in him wouldn’t let him leave. He squatted down in front of a row of plants. There were many interesting trees for sale. Remembering his promise to his wife, he chose only one. Yoshiko laughed as he walked over to her, carrying his plant in one hand.
“The garden is too crowded already,” she said on the way home. “We can’t line them all up unless we move to a house with a larger yard.”
“Don’t complain so much.”
They had been out for only an hour, but they had had a pleasant time. When they reached the main street, they saw a group of people milling around staring at something near the edge of the road. It was easy to see that there had been a traffic accident. An automobile had plunged onto the sidewalk. Its rear end was smashed. A taxi was stopped ten to twelve yards behind the car. Half a dozen policemen were already there investigating the accident, shining their flashlights around on the ground. One of them drew several circles on the street with chalk.
“They’ve done it again,” Imanishi said, as he took in the scene.
“My, how dangerous.” Yoshiko grimaced as she looked.
Imanishi peered inside the car on the sidewalk. It was empty. When he looked in the taxi, he saw neither the driver nor his fare.
“It looks like they were all taken to the hospital,” Imanishi said. “They must really have been hurt.”
“I hope no one was killed,” Yoshiko said, frowning.
Imanishi handed his plant to his wife and searched for a familiar face among the policemen. He walked over to one of them. “Hello, you have quite a problem, don’t you?”
The policeman, recognizing him, bowed respectfully. Imanishi had been involved in solving a case at the Sugamo police station.
“It’s quite a mess, isn’t it?” Imanishi asked.
“It’s terrible.” The traffic policeman, who had been jotting down the main points in his notebook, pointed to the battered car. “This one’s a total wreck.”
“What happened?”
“The driver was speeding. And the taxi driver behind him was looking off to the side. He didn’t even notice that the car in front of him had stopped and slammed into it without slowing down.”
“Any injuries?”
“The taxi driver and his fare were rushed to the hospital. But the people in the rear-ended car had only minor scratches.”
“And how badly injured were the people in the taxi?”
“The driver’s head went through the windshield, so his face was badly injured.”
“And his fare?”
“His chest slammed into the back of the front seat when the taxi hit the car. He lost consciousness temporarily but regained it when he arrived at the hospital.”
“That’s a relief.” Imanishi was glad there had been no worse casualties. “Who was the passenger?”
“I heard that he was some kind of musician,” the policeman answered.
When Imanishi awoke the next morning he was grateful that he’d been liberated from the recent disappointing case. He looked at the clock. It was only seven, he would have plenty of time to get to work even if he got up at eight.
“Could I see the newspaper?” Imanishi called to the kitchen where he could hear noise.
Wiping her hands, Yoshiko brought him the morning paper.
The front page was full of political news. The headlines were bold and the articles were interesting. Still a bit drowsy, Imanishi turned the pages of the newspaper. There was a series of opinion pieces accompanied by small photographs of each commentator. Browsing through the pictures, Imanishi stopped at one. It was a photo of Sekigawa Shigeo.
Imanishi wasn’t interested in Sekigawa’s opinion. What had drawn his attention was his picture. He couldn’t
