I curse and I curse and I curse …
I stare at him. I ask him again, ‘What letter?’
‘Can’t you guess, Inspector Minami?’ laughs Adachi now. ‘The letter Hayashi Jo left in the drawer of his desk; the letter about Detective Fujita and Nodera Tomiji and their plot to kill Matsuda Giichi; the letter that states Hayashi told you about this plot…’
‘I’m a dead man then,’ I say. ‘It’s a death sentence.’
‘Who says you don’t always get what you want?’
‘Senju will kill me,’ I say. ‘I can’t go to him.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he says. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘He’ll kill me and you know it.’
Adachi takes an envelope from his jacket pocket. Adachi holds it up and laughs, ‘Only if he was to actually read the letter…’
I want to kill him, here and now, in the upstairs corridor of the Meguro police station, stab him, again and again –
Blood on the blade …
Adachi pats my face. ‘Remember who your real friends are, corporal. And remember, I want Fujita!’
*
I should not have come back in here. I need a drink. I should not have sat down at this table. I need a cigarette. I should have gone straight to Senju. I need some pills. I should have gone back to Atago. I need to see Ishida. I should have gone to see my family. I need that file. I should have gone back to Yuki. I need some sleep. Anywhere but back in here, here sat at this table, here before Kodaira Yoshio –
Kodaira Yoshio leans across the table and smiles at me again and says, ‘Like I say, never heard of a Tominaga Noriko, soldier.’
‘But you knew Abe and you knew her friend Masaoka?’
‘Yes, I knew Masaoka and yes, I knew Abe Yoshiko.’
‘Tominaga Noriko was one of their group…’
He laughs. ‘There was no group, soldier.’
‘But they were all fūten together…’
Kodaira Yoshio sighs and stretches his arms high above his head and then he says, ‘It was just the two of them, soldier…’
‘There were four of them,’ I say. ‘A gang of them.’
‘Only time I ever saw groups of fūten was in China,’ he says. ‘But you’d know as much about them as I do, soldier…’
I should not have come. I should not have sat at this table –
I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember …
‘Back in Jinan,’ he laughs. ‘I once saw a man who looked a lot like you. But he was Kempei and his name wasn’t Minami.’
*
I itch and I itch. Kodaira country. I scratch and I scratch. Kodaira country. I walk and I walk. Kodaira country. I sweat and I sweat. From Meguro towards Shimbashi. Kodaira country. The route takes me close to the Takanawa police station. Kodaira country. Near to Shinagawa. Kodaira country. This is where the initial investigation into the murder of Abe Yoshiko was based. Kodaira country. The next police station, the one before Atago, is the Mita police station –
Kodaira country. Kodaira country. Kodaira country …
I change my direction. I change my course –
Kodaira country. Kodaira country …
I go up the steps and through the doors of the Mita police station. I show my TMPD identification at the front desk. I ask to see the duty sergeant; an old man and a suspicious man, suspicious of Headquarters and suspicious of me –
My country now, not his …
I tell him who I am, why I’m here and what I want –
‘You’re from Headquarters,’ he says. ‘So I’ve no choice but to give you his name. But I tell you this, though I no longer know his address, I wouldn’t give it to you even if I did because you lot ruined his life once and no doubt you’d do it again…’
‘Then just tell me his name,’ I say. ‘And I’m gone.’
The sergeant looks away as he spits, ‘Murota…’
I turn away now, itching and scratching, gari-gari, as I walk back through the doors, back down the steps and back outside –
I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. I itch and I scratch –
It is dark now. It is late now. But I am near.
*
I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My arms and my legs. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My back and my front. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My scalp and my groin. I turn their shoes to face the door. I itch and I scratch. Gari-gari. My nails blood, my hands blood –
Death is everywhere. Death is everywhere …
I take the scissors from her dresser. I see black lice. I take the cover off her mirror. I see brown lice. I begin to cut. I see yellow lice. I cut the longer hairs on my head. I see grey lice. I cut the longer hairs on my body. I see white lice. Then I take the razor from her dresser. I see black lice. I open up the blade. I see brown lice. I dip the blade in the bowl of water by her bed. I see yellow lice. I have no soap but still I shave. I see grey lice. I shave off my hair. I see white lice. The hair on my head. I see black lice. The hair on my body. I see brown lice. Hair by hair. I see yellow lice. Every last strand. I see grey lice. In my scalp. I see white lice. In my groin. I see black lice. The skin beneath is red. I see brown lice. The skin beneath is raw –
I see yellow lice, I see grey lice, I see white lice…
The razor in my hand, the blade dull now –
Death is everywhere. Death is everywhere …
Black lice. Black lice. Black lice –
Death follows us as we follow death …
Yuki is awake. Her eyes open –
But we’re already dead …
9. August 23, 1946
Tokyo, 87°, slightly cloudy
I turn their shoes to face the door. No Calmotin. No alcohol. No sleep. No dreams. No air. No breeze. I am out of luck. Everything is falling apart. I turn their shoes to face the door. No Calmotin. No alcohol. No sleep. No dreams. No air. No breeze. I am out of luck. Everything falling apart. I turn their shoes to face the door, three times I turn their shoes to face the door. No Calmotin. No alcohol. No sleep. No dreams. No air. No breeze. No luck. Everything falling apart again, over and over and over, again and again and again –
She is beside me now, beside me now, beside me now …
I cannot keep my eyes open but, when I close my eyes, I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep because I cannot stop thinking about her. I think about her all the time –
She is beside me now. She is beside me now …
I think about her all the time –
She is lying beside me now …