Inspector Kai looks down at his notebook and then asks, ‘And this was when Kodaira approached and spoke to Ryuko?’
‘Yes,’ says the other daughter again. ‘Ryuko told me that he just came up to her on the platform and started talking to her.’
Inspector Kai asks, ‘Do you know what they talked about?’
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘They talked about work and about food.’
‘Ryuko told him she wanted to find a new job,’ adds Mrs. Midorikawa now. ‘And Kodaira said he had connections with the Occupation Army and that he could help her find a job with them.’
‘How exactly did he say he would be able to help Ryuko?’
Mrs. Midorikawa shakes her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Through his connections,’ says the other daughter. ‘That’s what Ryuko told me that he said; through his connections …’
‘Did she say what kind of connections?’ asks Kai.
‘He was wearing the Shinchū Gun armband.’
Kai nods. ‘So when did they next meet?’
‘Not until earlier this month,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘Ryuko fell ill with intestinal problems and so she didn’t see Kodaira again until he suddenly turned up at the house asking after her…’
‘So Kodaira knew where Ryuko lived then?’
‘Yes,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘She must have given him her address that day in July at Shinagawa…’
‘And so when exactly did Kodaira make this visit?’ asks Kai. ‘This visit to the house in Meguro?’
Mrs. Midorikawa says, ‘The day before she went missing.’
‘The fifth of August,’ confirms her other daughter.
‘And did you both meet Kodaira?’ asks Kai –
‘Yes,’ they both reply at the same time.
‘So then tell me,’ says Inspector Kai. ‘What is he like?’
They are both silent for a moment until Mrs. Midorikawa first sighs and then says, ‘He seemed like a gentleman. He brought us a small gift. He said he was concerned about Ryuko’s health. He told us he was working as a cook with the Occupation Army. He thought he could help Ryuko find work at the same barracks.’
‘Can you remember which barracks these were?’ asks Kai.
‘Number 589,’ says the other daughter. ‘In Shinagawa.’
Kai looks up from his notes. ‘And you believed him?’
‘Of course I believed him,’ spits Mrs. Midorikawa, suddenly. ‘Do you really think I would have let my daughter go off to meet him, if I didn’t believe him? If I didn’t trust him?’
Inspector Kai looks back down at his notebook. Inspector Kai shakes his head and now says, ‘I am very sorry. I…’
‘There are six of us in our family,’ she says. ‘And no man.’
Inspector Kai bows his head and says again, ‘I am sorry.’
‘He promised her a good job,’ she says. ‘Free food.’
Inspector Kai just nods and stares at his notebook.
‘He was wearing the Shinchū Gun armband.’
I cough now. I edge forward on my seat. I bow and then ask, ‘And so Ryuko went to meet him on the sixth of August?’
‘Yes,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘They had arranged to meet at ten o’clock at the east gate of Shinagawa station.’
‘Ten o’clock in the morning?’ I ask –
‘Of course,’ she says. ‘Of course.’
‘And so when Ryuko didn’t come home, what did you do?’
‘I waited until the next morning,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘And then, first thing, I went straight to see Kodaira.’
‘You went to see him at his home?’ I ask. ‘Where is it?’
‘In Hanezawamachi,’ she replies. ‘In Shibuya Ward.’
‘And what did he say when you went to see him?’
‘He lied to me,’ spits Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘He said Ryuko had never turned up to meet him at Shinagawa station.’
‘Let me just check this,’ I say. ‘When you went to see Kodaira in Shibuya it was the seventh of August?’
‘Yes,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa.
‘And you went to see him because Ryuko hadn’t come home the night before?’
‘Yes.’
‘But Kodaira told you Ryuko had not shown up to meet him at Shinagawa station at ten o’clock on the morning before?’
‘Yes,’ says Mrs. Midorikawa. ‘He lied to me.’
‘They all lie,’ says her other daughter.
Now I take out an envelope from my jacket pocket. I open the envelope. I take out the piece of newspaper found in the pocket of the skirt of the pinafore dress on my body. Now I place the newspaper advertisement on the table before Mrs. Midorikawa –
I ask, ‘Does this mean anything to you?’
Mrs. Midorikawa looks down at the newspaper advertisement. Mrs. Midorikawa pushes it away. Mrs. Midorikawa looks up at me. Mrs. Midorikawa says, ‘My daughter was not a whore.’
*
Inspector Kai and Room #1 have been busy. Room #1 have an address for Kodaira Yoshio. Inspector Kai and Room #1 have sent two men to the address in Hanezawamachi, Shibuya Ward. Room #1 have stationed two pairs of detectives near the address –
No escape. No escape. No escape. No escape …
‘It is Kodaira’s sister’s house,’ Inspector Kai is telling us. ‘His younger sister’s house. He lives there with his wife and son…’
Chief Kita knows Kai wants to bring Kodaira in now –
No escape. No escape. No escape. No escape …
The chief asks, ‘What about his place of work?’
‘It is Laundry Barracks #589,’ says Inspector Kai. ‘Just as he told the mother, but he’s not a cook. He’s been working in the laundry since March this year. In Shinagawa, on the ocean side…’
Now Adachi glances up from his notes. Adachi looks at me –
‘And we’ve both seen this before, detective. Remember?’
The chief asks, ‘What shifts does he work at the laundry?’
‘He’s been working on nights this month,’ replies Kai.
Adachi still looking at me. Adachi still watching my face –
‘Did you find that file, inspector? The Miyazaki file…’
The chief asks, ‘Do we have his family’s address?’
‘Nikkō, Tochigi Prefecture,’ says Inspector Kai –
No escape. No escape. No escape. No escape …
The chief says, ‘Arrest him tomorrow at noon.’
No escape. In the half-light, no escape at all.
*
I take a different route back to Atago, through Hibiya Park and out onto Hibiya-dōri. The branches of the trees hang low in the hot and overcast light, the leaves on the branches covered in dirt and dust. There were statues in this park before the war turned against us, when there were heroes to celebrate and metal to spare. There were fountains too, when there were hours to play and water to spare. Restaurants and tea-houses, flower exhibitions and symphony concerts, tennis courts and a baseball ground, before they converted it into vegetable gardens and anti-aircraft batteries –
Ton-ton. Ton-ton. Ton-ton …
I queue for a streetcar at Uchisaiwai-chō, just down the road from the Imperial Hotel; the Imperial Hotel where there are still heroes to celebrate and metal to spare, hours to play and water to spare. The old woman queuing next to me is bent double with the weight of the box tied to her back. The old woman telling the queue the story of a small boy in Hongō who waited and waited for his chocolate ration to come and was so excited when the chocolate finally came that he could not take his eyes off the chocolate, that he did not look up from the chocolate, that he did not see the streetcar coming. The queue for our streetcar says nothing. The queue just stands and waits, watching for a streetcar that never comes, listening to the hammering that never ceases –