Torii removed her shoes and stepped up into the house, advancing straight down the corridor. The cameras followed her movements. There had been no pre-arrangement of how she would behave or react, and this was her first time in the house. The sun had gone behind a cloud, but it had been clear that day, and the air was dry. Nonetheless, the air in the home had a humid quality, and the flooring gave off a damp creaking sound with each step Torii took.
Now the famous seer’s much-lauded abilities would be put to the test. On the train ride from Tokyo to Chino, Saeko had encountered an aspect of Torii’s unusual powers, and they had made an impression. While the old woman hadn’t exactly penetrated to the very core of the tragedy Saeko had experienced long ago, she had accurately assessed its general provinces. Saeko wasn’t yet 100 percent convinced, but she was halfway there, and ready to see more. If Torii succeeded in intuiting an aspect of this missing persons case that hit the mark, Saeko was likely to be persuaded.
As Torii rounded a corner to the left of the corridor, sandwiched between the two cameras, Hashiba and Saeko removed their shoes, stepped into the house, and followed quietly behind.
Saeko followed Hashiba down the corridor to the entrance of the living room. They stopped in the doorway and peered inside.
Next to the open-counter style kitchen was a table for six, and close to it a corner sofa. The living and dining area was roughly fifteen tatami mats in area, with the sofa serving as a partition between the two spaces. Cabinets and shelving lined the walls with no wasted space. At a glance, it was clear that the members of this household were well-organized and tidy.
Torii sat down on the living room sofa facing the television. The set was off, its screen merely mirroring the room. The reflected image was slightly rounded at the edges and almost monochromatic. Torii would be seeing her own reflection in the screen as well.
The old woman picked up the remote control and made as if to operate it, but then hesitated, fiddling with it for a moment before setting it back down on the table. Instead she picked up one of the glasses that had been left there. There was a tiny bit of white residue at the bottom. Ten months ago, the owner of the home had poured a beer into this glass and left it unfinished on the table. The liquid had evaporated completely, leaving only traces of foam at the very bottom as evidence.
Torii brought the glass to her nose and sniffed.
She cocked her head to the side as if lost in deep contemplation. Then she stood up and traversed the dining room into the kitchen, where she opened the refrigerator door.
As Torii leaned forward to peer into the refrigerator, the light from inside illuminated her profile, bathing her thin hair in a cool, pale light that made it look whiter than ever. In response to its door opening, the motor in the back of the refrigerator let out a growling rumble.
Even now, the household’s utility bills continued to be automatically deducted each month from their plentiful bank accounts, and the home’s electricity, gas, water, and telephone services were still operational.
Torii examined the refrigerator’s contents before extracting a Styrofoam container of fermented soybeans, or natto. She carried it over to the dining table and sat down. With a strange look on her face, Torii sat opposite ten-month-old natto, probably purchased at some neighborhood grocery store, and appeared to sink into a deep trance. Earlier she had been muttering incomprehensibly to herself, but now she maintained absolute silence. For a moment, she seemed about to speak. But instead she paused, her face frozen in the expression of a person just about to sneeze, her eyes staring off into space. She remained like that for about half a minute, her mouth hanging open.
Hashiba couldn’t take the suspense any longer. “Do you see something?” he asked. His voice could easily be removed from the footage at the editing stage.
The well-timed question seemed to pull Torii’s consciousness back to reality. “I see a dark abyss,” she responded simply.
“What do you mean, a dark abyss?” Hashiba probed.
“I don’t know how deep it is, but I see the bottom of a valley set between steep cliffs.”
“Are the people who lived in this house at the bottom of that valley?”
“I don’t know. But the valley is moving, like a living thing.”
As Saeko listened to the exchange between Hashiba and Torii, she imagined a bird’s eye view of a valley, dark and writhing like a snake. At the same time, it made her think of Seiji. It occurred to her suddenly that if a snake’s face were covered in wrinkles, it might look a lot like Seiji.
Just then, she heard a soft clapping sound near her ear. It was a signal from Hashiba. “Wait there just a moment,” he directed.
Quickly, Hashiba called Kagayama over and gave him some brief instructions. “Help me gather together some things the family members used in their daily lives. You go upstairs and find something of the children’s. I’ll find something that belonged to the parents downstairs.”
As the director issued his instructions, the two cameras continued to film Torii.
Kagayama looked confused. He seemed unsure of what Hashiba had in mind.
“I want you to find something each member of the family used regularly. Clothes, a comb, whatever. Bring me something that belonged to each of the children,” Hashiba clarified.
“Got it.” Finally comprehending, Kagayama started to sprint off, but Hashiba stopped him.
“Just a minute. When you do, be careful not to mess up their rooms. Just collect the necessary items and do your best not to touch anything else.”
“Understood.”
Kagayama ran swiftly up the stairs.
Hashiba watched him go and then made his way to the bathroom. It would be easy to find something each member of the family used regularly there.
He opened the sliding door between the hallway and the bathroom. The sink was just opposite the door, ivory colored with a three-way mirror that greeted Hashiba with his own reflection. The daylight that poured in through the small window next to the sink was sufficient to illuminate both the changing and bathing area so that there was no need to turn on the lights.
Hashiba opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, revealing four toothbrushes lined up inside. Below, the sink was fairly clean, but there were tiny bits of toothpaste congealed here and there and a few stray hairs tangled in the drain.
Hashiba was about to reach for the four toothbrushes when he hesitated and plucked several tissues from a nearby tissue box. He wrapped the toothbrushes in the tissues so as not to handle them directly. He wasn’t worried about preserving forensic evidence at a potential crime scene; rather, he simply lacked the courage to directly handle toothbrushes that probably still retained traces of their owners’ saliva.
Hashiba stuck the thick wad of tissues containing the four toothbrushes in his pocket. At least now he had something all four family members had used regularly.
There was a laundry machine next to the sink, with a laundry basket sandwiched in between. The basket contained clothes that had been laundered but not yet hung out to dry. They were mostly light things like hand-towels and underwear, and all of the items had dried in a wrinkly mass. When he picked one up, it retained its shape like a pumice stone.
When had these clothes been laundered? It seemed more than likely that the load had been done just before the family’s disappearance.