by Jesse Ball
OFFICER 1
We have read your confession. We are very interested in obtaining more information pertaining to it as soon as possible.
ODA
(silent)
OFFICER 1
Mr. Oda, your predicament is not enviable. I can assure you, it is almost certain that if you are convicted you will be taken to an execution room in X. prison and hanged. If any of the individuals mentioned in your confession are still living, and you cooperate with us to find them, it could help you. It could make the difference. You could live.
ODA
(silent)
OFFICER 2
If you think being silent is going to help you. If you think that.
OFFICER 1
If you think that, you don’t know anything about this.
OFFICER 2
Maybe you got into this the wrong way. Maybe you think you know the way out. But you don’t. The only way out is to help us.
OFFICER 1
Tell us where these individuals are. That’s your play. That’s your way out.
OFFICER 2
Not to freedom.
(Officers laugh.)
OFFICER 1
No, just out—a way to avoid the execution room.
OFFICER 2
And not just that, but even now. Even now, things can be better than they are. They don’t have to be like this. There are, you can believe, better cells in the jail than the one you have. There is better food than the food you’ll get. There’s even, I shouldn’t say this, but it could be arranged for you to go from here to a regular jail. Things are different there. Maybe better for you? There are even different guards. Things aren’t all the same. You can improve your situation, that’s what we’re saying.
OFFICER 1
We’re not your enemies. You don’t have any. We’re all just working together. We’re all cooperating. Inspector Nagano and I are going to leave the room now. When we come back tomorrow I want you to have things to say to us. Do you understand?
Interview 1 (Mother)
[Int. note. When I visited the village, years after, I managed to conduct a series of interviews with the Oda family. It was difficult to get into contact with them, but as I have told you, I had my own reasons for trying. I had been in Japan only briefly before, and many things were new to me. I felt a beautiful feeling of opening, as though everything was expanding and sharpening, becoming larger and clearer than it had been, just as on a cloudy day, sometimes the light shifts and becomes strong when one is not even directly in sunlight. Various portions of these interviews I here include in order to show the progression of Oda Sotatsu’s incarceration. I will explain it precisely, piece by piece, presenting you the evidence as I received it. The house in which I conducted the interviews was a rented house on a property known to be full of butterflies in certain seasons. At the time in which I arrived, and when I began the interviews, there were no butterflies evident. However, when we sat in the north room of the house, where Sotatsu’s mother most often chose to be interviewed, she spoke of having visited the house under other circumstances, and of having seen the butterflies. For me, it was as though I had then seen them, and later, when they did indeed come, it was exactly as she had said. I say this only to give a sense of her reliability, although, clearly, a matter of insects and the matter of her son’s confession are not really alike, not really. Still, the impression of exactitude remains, and so I explain it.]
[These are excerpts from long conversations, and so they may refer to things previously stated, or may begin in the midst of an idea, when something important had begun to be said.]
INT.
Mrs. Oda, you were speaking of that first day, when you received the call from the authorities, and went to visit Sotatsu.
MRS. ODA
We did not actually go that day. Neither I, nor my husband. Neither of my children.
INT.
Why was that?
MRS. ODA
My husband forbade it. He was horrified by the news. He sat in our house, in a room with no light on, just staring at nothing for many hours. When he came out, he said we would not go to see Sotatsu. He said he did not know anyone with that name and inquired whether I did.
INT.
And what did you say?
MRS. ODA
I said I did not. I did not know anyone by that name. He said he was sorry to hear about the confusion, and that the police thought we knew anyone like that, but we did not. I wanted to go, of course. Of course, I wanted to go. But, he was very clear about how it had to be.
INT.
What about your other children?
MRS. ODA
They were not living in our home at that time, and I hadn’t contacted them.
INT.
So, what changed? Why did you go to visit Sotatsu?
MRS. ODA
When I woke up in the morning, my husband was wearing some clothing I hadn’t seen him wear, an old suit, somewhat formal. He said it was possibly his fault, that we should see our son Sotatsu. I told him I thought that we should also. He said that didn’t matter, what we should do, but that we would do it. So, we went to the car and drove to the jail.
INT.
And what did you find there?
MRS. ODA
The officers did not want to look at us. I don’t think anyone looked us in the eye on that visit, or any other visit. They wanted to pretend we didn’t exist. I understand that, by the way. I understand how it would be. Such a job, to be at a jail. It is good that someone chooses to do it, I guess.
INT.
Was he far inside in the police station?
MRS. ODA
They moved his cell around. He wasn’t always in the same spot. Maybe because of discipline? He was often being punished, which his father agreed with. When I said I thought it was quite much that was being done, Mr. Oda told me that indeed, no, it was quite little. I don’t know much about these things. If you speak to my husband, he can perhaps remember more, or remember knowing more.
INT.
But the visit itself? You spoke to him?
MRS. ODA
We spoke. He did not. He was in a small cell at first. There wasn’t anything else in there at all, just a drain. I think they wanted him to start talking, but he wouldn’t. He looked very small in the prison clothing. I didn’t like to see it. I don’t like to think about it now.
INT.
I’m sorry, but can you just recall what you said to him?
MRS. ODA
I don’t believe I said anything. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and then that Mr. Oda would have it that we never visited again, so I stayed quiet. I wanted to see how he would say what it was that there was to say. He said, Son, you did this? They say you did this and that you said so, that you said you did. Did you do this? And Sotatsu said nothing. But he looked at us.
THE NARITO DISAPPEARANCES
[Int. note. I felt a word about the Narito Disappearances was in order at this point. Permit me to interrupt the narrative a moment for clarity’s sake. It was to this crime that Oda Sotatsu confessed. When he signed the confession, it is my opinion he was somehow unaware that the crime had been carried out.]
The Narito Disappearances occurred in the villages near Sakai in the year of 1977. They began around June and continued up until the capture of Oda Sotatsu. The newspapers eagerly followed the case and it drew national press attention, culminating in a furor at Oda Sotatsu’s arrest. What was it?
Eight people disappeared, roughly two per month. There was no evidence of a struggle; however, it was clear that the disappearances were effected suddenly (food set out on the table, no personal objects missing, etc.). The people who disappeared were all older men and women, between the ages of fifty and seventy, who without exception lived alone. On the door of the residences a playing card was discovered, one per residence. No fingerprints of any kind were on the cards. No one witnessed the departure of any of the disappeared individuals. It was a powerful
and gripping mystery, and as more and more people disappeared, the region went into shock. Patrols were even created to visit the homes of isolated or widowed individuals. But the patrols were never in the right place at the right time.
Interrogation 2
Sixteenth of October, 1977. Oda Sotatsu. Inspectors’ names unrecorded.
[Int. note. Again, transcript of session recording, possibly altered or shoddily made. Original recording not heard.]
OFFICER 1
Mr. Oda, now that you have slept, perhaps you feel differently than yesterday?
ODA
(silent)
OFFICER 2
It is impossible for you, for things to get better for you, if you do not speak at all. You have signed a confession. You do not want a lawyer or any representation. You know what you did. We are concerned with finding the individuals mentioned, those individuals mentioned in your confession.
ODA
Is it possible that I could see it? I would like to see the confession.
OFFICER 2
That is impossible. You cannot see the confession. You wrote the confession. You know what it says. This isn’t a game. Tell us where to look. Where did you go with those people? Mr. Oda, our patience is growing thin.
OFFICER 1
You cannot see the confession. The inspector is correct. It is completely unnecessary. It is possible, of course, that if you cooperate, many things that are unnecessary can occur. As we said, better food, a larger cell, a different facility. Perhaps even this. I do not say yes, not at all. I don’t say that. But speak to us about these things and we will see what can happen.
OFFICER 2
This is about you. This is in your hands.
(Forty more minutes of quiet on the tape as the interviewers and Oda stare at one another. Finally, the sound of a door closing, and the tape clicks off.)
Interview 2 (Brother)
[Int. note. This interview also was conducted at the house previously mentioned. Sotatsu’s brother, Jiro, was his most loyal supporter. He actually learned about what had happened and tried to visit the station prior to his parents. However, he was turned away, for reasons unknown. Perhaps the first interrogation had not yet happened at the time of his visit. It is unclear. I spoke to him at great length. Of all the family, he was the one most angry about what had happened. He had worked at a steel plant as a younger man, and was doing so in 1977. He later became active in organized labor. When I met him he was well dressed and drove an expensive car. Of his personal habits, I can say he smoked nearly an entire pack of cigarettes during each one of our conversations. I don’t know if this was usual for him, or if my presence and the subject of our discussions made him nervous. On several of the interviews, he was accompanied by his children, both young, who played in the yard while we spoke. Although he was very matter of fact, and even at times hostile with me, he was exceptionally soft-spoken with them. I had done judo for a while, and Jiro had also done so; at one point he broke in, out of the blue, to ask if I had ever done it. I had never said a word on the subject. When I answered yes, he laughed. I can always tell, he said. A judo man walks a bit differently. While this may have predisposed me to liking him, I assure you, I have tried at all times to be as objective as possible.]
INT.
That was the nineteenth of October?
JIRO
It may have been. I don’t know.
INT.
But it was your first time inside the police station?
JIRO
Actually, no, I had been there once before, in connection with a friend from the mill. I had been visiting him, accompanying his wife to visit him. I think he had been fighting and was taken by the police.
INT.
Your friend?
JIRO
Yes, that was some years before that.
INT.
But on this visit …
JIRO
I saw Sotatsu. The police frisked me. I signed some papers, showed some identification, and was taken in. His cell was at the back. He was there, by himself, in a long cell with no window.
INT.
Did the police leave you alone to speak with him?
JIRO
No. One of the officers stayed within earshot. When Sotatsu saw me, he came to the edge of the cell and we looked at each other.
INT.
How did he look?
JIRO
Terrible. He was in jail. How do you think he looked?
INT.
What did you say?
JIRO
I didn’t say anything. I hadn’t come there to say anything. I just wanted to see him and I wanted him to know that I was thinking of him. I don’t know that I wanted to hear him say anything. I don’t know what he could have said that would have been worth hearing.
INT.
You had read about the matter in the newspaper?
JIRO
Yes, it was all over the newspaper. It had been for months already, all about the disappearances. Then, it became all about Sotatsu. He confessed to it all, even to parts that the newspapers hadn’t known anything about. That’s what made the police sure. They had thought there were eight disappearances, but he had confessed to eleven, and the other three had been entirely unreported. When the police went to check on those people, they were gone too.
INT.
And you didn’t ask him about it?
JIRO
I just said that. I saw him and left.
INT.
And you had other visits like that?
JIRO
I came every day. Some days they would let me in. Some days they wouldn’t. When they would it was always the same. I would approach the bars from one side, he from another. Neither one of us spoke. It was said there was a room where prisoners received visitors. I never saw that room.
Interrogation 3
Nineteenth of October, 1977. Oda Sotatsu. Inspector’s name unrecorded.
[Int. note. Again, transcript of session recording, possibly altered or shoddily made. Original recording not heard.]
OFFICER 3
Mr. Oda, I have been informed about your case by the inspector you spoke to previously. He declared you unresponsive. It is his opinion that you should simply be run through the system. Flushed out of the system. Those were his exact words. Not to be vulgar, but you see what I mean. You are getting a particular reputation around here. I am going to explain something to you. In jail and in prison, even here at a police station, a local police station like this, there are things that people have done that make them what they are. Do you see? I was in the military, I went to school, I was in a training program, after that I joined the force, and I have worked my way up to being an inspector. That is what I am. Those things I did have made me what I am. You, on the other hand. You have done a crime. That is why you are here. What you are is a prisoner. That is what you are. However, what you are does not determine how you are treated, not the way you would think. What determines how you are treated in here is how you behave and how that behavior creates a reputation. I have a reputation for being good to the people I talk to. Then more people talk to me, then more people learn that I am good to talk to. That is my reputation. There are prisoners here who are treated exceptionally well. Some who have done worse things than others are treated better than the others. Do you know why that is?
ODA
(silent)
OFFICER 3
It is because they have learned how to behave and how to represent a particular reputation, to make it real. You are creating a reputation for yourself. Do you know that?
ODA
(silent)
OFFICER 3
There is a reason you sleep in a concrete cell with no bed, night after night. There is a reason that you get the food that no one else wants. Not all the prisoners get sprayed with a hose. Do you see what I mean? These officers are from good families. They grew up in your town. You may even know them. They have children. They treat people well.
But when they see you, they think: here is an animal. Here is a person who wants nothing to do with being human, with being part of our community.
(Officer takes a deep breath, pauses.)
OFFICER 3
What we want is for you to tell us more. The information in the confession is not enough. It is very little. It is almost a useless document, other than where you are concerned. Where you are concerned, it is probably the end of you. But for others, it is useless. We need you to tell us more. Tell us more and we can help you. When I came here, today, and I was told that I would be the one to speak to you, I had an idea about who you were. There had been talk about you. Also, the newspapers. They have been running stories. Many things about you. So, I had an idea about what you would be like. But you aren’t like that. To me, you look like a regular guy, who ended up in a bad spot. You look like maybe you need to talk to someone. Like maybe all this can be explained somehow. I’m the guy you want to talk to. Think about it.
(Tape recorder clicks off.)
Interview 3 (Mother)
[Int. note. To this visit, Mrs. Oda brought a toy that had been Sotatsu’s. It was a long stick painted blue with a red bell on the end. The bell was shaped like a flower. It did not make any noise, Mrs. Oda explained. It had originally been given to Sotatsu’s brother as a present, and he immediately broke it. Sotatsu had found the broken toy and began carrying it around all the time. It became his. He even claimed that he could hear the sound of the bell, although clearly the bell made no sound. Once, the family played a trick on him and hid little bells in their clothing. When he would move the stick, one of the family members would surreptitiously jingle a bell. This caused him great concern and difficulty, and both parents regretted having done it; so said Mrs. Oda. It also confirmed him in his belief that there truly was a sound, and even after their ruse had been explained to him, he disbelieved it.]
