crouched down. Carefully he picked up one fragment by the edge and examined it closely.
It was a piece of cloth about one inch square. The color had changed, but the material had obviously come from a cotton shirt. The rain and sun had changed the color to a dirty gray, but he could see some spots, as if brown paint had splattered it. Imanishi picked up another piece. On this, the brownish area was larger and covered about half of the fragment. Imanishi picked up more. In all there were six pieces. In each case the size of the brownish spots varied and the cloth had turned dark gray.
Imanishi put his collection carefully into the empty cigarette pack that he was carrying and closed the flap.
The cloth fragments looked like they had been cut with scissors. Imanishi could tell that the material was of good quality. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to be a cotton-synthetic blend. Imanishi thought back. The man who had appeared in the bar in Kamata had been wearing a light gray sports shirt. The cloth fragments were dirty, but it seemed that the original color could have been a light gray.
Encouraged, Imanishi walked back to Hajikano Station to catch the next train. He rode the train through the tunnel and got off at Sasago Station. Here, too, he walked along the tracks.
The pieces he had recovered had given him something definite to look for. Judging from the way the fragments he had discovered had fallen, he figured that there would be a greater chance of finding them in the grassy areas.
Imanishi walked five hundred yards and stopped to rest, then he walked three hundred yards and stopped again. Otherwise, he got dizzy. When he had walked about a thousand yards, resting off and on, he saw another bunch of fragments lying next to a lunch box discarded on the grass. Imanishi slid down the slope and carefully picked up the pieces. This time the fragments were mostly whitish, but they were unmistakably the same as those he had already placed in his cigarette case. Imanishi spent about an hour searching this area, but he was unable to discover any more pieces.
Imanishi walked all the way to Otsuki Station. The bustle of the town became louder, and the railroad tracks were intersected by crossings. Imanishi entered a restaurant in front of the station and poured some water over his head. If he had continued plodding in the sun, he would have fainted from sunstroke.
Next was the section between Saruhashi and Torizawa. It would be quicker for him to walk than wait for the next train. Crossing the railroad bridge, he looked to his left and saw Saruhashi bridge, which the woodblock print master Hiroshige had drawn. He again followed the tracks and was struck by the sickening aroma of the grass. The burning sun was finally moving toward the west, but the heat had not diminished. The heat waves rising from the ground nearly overpowered Imanishi’s eyes and nose. He continued to walk. The railroad tracks curved ahead of him and glinted in the sunlight. Imanishi felt that his investigation had finally gotten on track.
He returned to Tokyo police headquarters. He had been able to gather thirteen fragments of cloth along the tracks between Enzan Station and Lake Sagami Station. He established that they were all of the same cloth and had been cut into bits.
Imanishi went to the Identification Division. He turned over the cloth fragments to the technician Yoshida, who said, “In view of the efforts you’ve made to find these, I’ll try to get the results as soon as possible.”
The testing procedure involved ascertaining whether the stains were blood; if they were bloodstains, whether they were human blood; and if they were human bloodstains, isolating the blood type.
“Imanishi-
Imanishi had noted Miki’s blood type in his notebook. Miki had type O blood.
Imanishi reported this finding to his superiors. They were generous with their encouragement. Imanishi gave a little jump for joy. The next step was to find the girl who looked like the actress Okada Mariko. Imanishi promised himself that he would find the girl, just as he had found the cloth fragments along the railroad tracks.
Imanishi had no clue other than that the girl had taken a night train to Tokyo on the Chuo Line over three months ago. There were hundreds of thousands of young women in Tokyo who fit her description. But Imanishi was sure she had helped Miki’s murderer. The murder had been committed in the middle of the night of May 11, and the fragments had been scattered from the train window on May 19, so there was a gap of about one week. During that time, the girl had hidden the murderer’s bloodstained clothes.
Armed with a general description of the woman, detectives targeted rental rooms and apartments along the Mekama and Ikegami lines, but no clues surfaced from their inquiries. Suspecting that this girl might be a hostess at a bar or nightclub, the investigation was extended to the entertainment districts.
One morning, as Imanishi was drinking his tea after his breakfast before he had to leave for work, Yoshiko came running back from the tobacco stand where she had gone to buy her husband some cigarettes.
Imanishi lowered his teacup. “What is it?”
“Someone’s committed suicide in that apartment house.”
Imanishi wasn’t much interested in suicides. But Yoshiko continued, her eyes bright with excitement. “It’s the girl we saw once who works for the theater group, remember?”
“Eh?” Imanishi was surprised. “That girl?” Imanishi remembered the slim girl they had passed on the street. “That’s surprising.”
“Isn’t it? I was shocked when I heard. To think that she would commit suicide. You really can’t tell.”
“When did she die?”
“The apartment owner discovered her at seven this morning. Apparently she had taken two hundred sleeping pills. There’s a crowd of people gathered in front of the apartment house now.”
“Hm.” Imanishi recalled the face he had seen under the dim streetlight. “Why did she commit suicide?”
“I don’t really know; but since she was young, it may have been a love affair.”
“I wonder. It’s a shame; she had her whole life ahead of her.”
Imanishi took off his kimono and changed to his street clothes. As he was buttoning his shirt, something occurred to him.
“Hey,” he called to his wife. “Did you see that girl very often?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did she look like?”
“Well, she had a pretty, slender face with big eyes.”
“Did she look like Okada Mariko?”
“Let me think.” His wife stared off into space. “Now that you mention it, she did look a bit like Okada Mariko. Yes, that was the general impression she made.”
Imanishi suddenly frowned and hurriedly put on his jacket.
“I’m off.”
“Have a good day.” His wife saw him to the door.
Imanishi walked quickly to the apartment house. Some neighbors were standing outside, looking at the apartment. A patrol car from the local police station was parked at the entrance. Imanishi walked up the stairs. The suicide had occurred in Number 5 on the second floor. A policeman from the local station was standing outside the apartment. He recognized Imanishi and nodded a greeting.
“Thanks for your efforts,” Imanishi said and stepped into the room.
Policemen stood around as the medical examiner squatted to examine the body.
Imanishi recognized all of the men there. “Could I take a look at the body?”
Imanishi peered at the body from above. Her hair was nicely styled and she had on makeup. She had known that she would be seen by others after she died. She seemed to be wearing her best clothes. The room was tidy and clean.
Imanishi stared at the dead girl’s face. It was a pretty face. There was no doubt that she was the girl he had passed on the street. Her face was slender and her shapely lips were slightly open. Her eyes were closed, but judging from the shape of the sockets, they would have been large if opened. The medical examiner was dictating information to his assistant. Imanishi waited until he was finished.
“Was it sleeping pills?” Imanishi asked one of the policemen in a low voice.
“Yes. She was discovered this morning, and we estimate that the time of death was about eleven last night,” the policeman responded.
“Any suicide note?”
“Not really. But there’s a journal that could be taken as such.”
