“No wonder you look happy. At least you haven’t had a fight with your husband.”
“We haven’t been fighting,” his sister assured him. “You look very tired.”
“I do?”
“Are you busy at work?”
“That’s right.”
“Isn’t this early for you to be home?” Yoshiko asked.
“I must be getting old, I’m exhausted.”
“You should be more careful,” his sister said.
Imanishi felt depressed. He wasn’t able to join his wife and sister’s cheerful chatter. He went into the next room and sat at a small desk. The plain bookcase housed books related to police work. He was not the kind to read novels. Imanishi took out his notebook. Turning the pages, he read over what he had written about his trip to Kamedake. He had written down what he had heard in Kamedake about Miki Ken’ichi’s days as a policeman. There were no dark shadows in Miki’s life, not even a speck of dust that would have caused him to be hated.
Imanishi lay back on the tatami. He folded his arms under his head to form a pillow and looked up at the sooty ceiling. From the next room he could hear Yoshiko and his sister still chatting. The sound of a bus passing by rumbled in his ears. He thought of something and got up and went into the next room.
“Why don’t you sit down and join us?” his sister urged.
“No, I have something I need to do.”
Imanishi took a piece of paper out of the pocket of his suit jacket, which was hanging from a hook.
He returned to the other room with the piece of paper Yoshimura had picked up in the field near where Miyata had died. According to the figures on the scrap of paper, Japan’s unemployment insurance disbursements were steadily rising, indicating that the economic situation was worsening. Nineteen fifty-two was the year after the end of the fighting in the Korean War. The boom in special procurements had ended, forcing the closing of many smaller factories. The rise in unemployment must have been due to that. The figures reflected this. But they had nothing to do with the case.
Yoshimura had suggested that the person who’d made the chart might have been with Miyata. That was possible. At any rate, he would save this piece of paper for the time being. Whether it would end up being useful or not was another matter. Folding it carefully he put it in his notebook.
Yoshiko came to call him to supper. Taro had gone to bed early, so Imanishi ate with his wife and sister.
“I hate to eat and run, but it’s getting late, so I must go home. I’ve been out since morning,” his sister said.
“Then I’ll see you off and go for a walk,” Imanishi said.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I need the walk.”
In fact, he felt wretched. He wanted to walk the evening streets to shake off his bad mood. Yoshiko said she would go as well, so the three of them set off toward the station. When they came to the nearby apartment building, Yoshiko told Imanishi’s sister about the recent suicide.
“That’s a real problem for a landlord,” she said, speaking from her own perspective. “We have a young woman renting from us. I hope
“Oh, you mean the one who recently moved in?” Yoshiko asked. “Didn’t you say she was a bar hostess?”
“That’s right. She comes home late every night, but she seems to be quite respectable.”
“Do her customers ever see her home?”
“I don’t really know. At least when she comes into the building she’s always alone. Even if she might be a little tipsy, she seems to pull herself together.”
“Even so…”
“Yes, but it’s her job, you know. I hope there’s no trouble. I worry when I hear about things like this suicide.”
They passed under a streetlight.
“You know, though, that hostess is quite admirable,” the sister said. “She reads difficult books.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some sort of theoretical books. Just a couple of days ago I went to her room on an errand and she was clipping something from the paper. I peeked at the article, and it was a music review.”
“Is she musical?”
“No, she said she wasn’t interested in music at all.”
“Then why was she clipping the review?”
“It caught her interest. She let me read it, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.”
Imanishi overheard them.
“Was that the review about ‘musique concrete’?” he asked his sister.
“Yes, yes, I think it was. Do you know about it?” His sister was surprised.
“Just a little. But she was reading it even though she said she wasn’t interested in music?”
“Yes, she said the person who wrote the review was a very brilliant, impressive man.”
“Did she mean Sekigawa Shigeo?”
“I’m amazed. How could you know that?”
Imanishi was silent. He wondered if young people in general admired Sekigawa Shigeo that much.
“What difficult books has she?”
“Well, there were two or three books by this Sekigawa.”
“Does this bar hostess read a lot of books?”
“No, not really. She mainly reads popular magazines.”
“What’s her name?”
“It’s Miura Emiko.”
“I think I’ll come visit you some time,” Imanishi said. “And you can casually introduce me to this bar hostess.”
Imanishi went to his sister’s house in Kawaguchi the following day. The apartment building had been built two years before. The two-story building was divided into eight units. His sister and her husband lived on the first floor.
Oyuki was surprised to see him. “My goodness, you came right away.”
“Right. I was nearby in Akabane, so I decided to come over. Is Sho at work?” he asked about his brother-in- law.
“Yes. I’ll pour you some tea.”
“I’ve brought you something.” Imanishi gave her a box of cakes.
“You know, last night you were talking about the bar hostess who lives here. Can you arrange for me to meet her casually?”
“You’re really persistent. Is she connected with a case?”
“No, not really. It’s nothing, I just want to meet her. You haven’t told her your brother is a detective, have you?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t talk about that. If I told my tenants my brother was a detective, they’d all get nervous and move away.”
“I’m decent at heart.”
“That’s true. But for those who don’t know you, it might make them uncomfortable.”
“I guess so. At any rate, can you invite her for tea? Is she still here?”
“Yes, she’s probably doing her laundry about this time. She leaves for Ginza about five.”
“Okay. I’ll watch the kettle.”
Shooed out by her brother, Oyuki left the room. Imanishi felt nervous. He changed seats twice while he waited. After a while, he heard two sets of footsteps in the hallway.
“Brother, I’ve brought her here.”
Behind his sister stood a young woman in a cream-colored sweater.
“Please come in.” Imanishi put on his kindest expression.
“This is my older brother. He hasn’t come by for ages. We were just about to have some tea.”
“Excuse me.” Emiko entered the room. She then greeted Imanishi saying that she would always be grateful to
