Inspector Imanishi Investigates

by Seichō Matsumoto

  Imanishi asked the bartender. “Is Emiko-san here?”

  “She quit yesterday,” the bartender answered, with a polite smile.

  “What? Yesterday?” Imanishi was shocked.

  “Yes.”

  “That was sudden,” Imanishi muttered. He had counted on finding her here.

  “That’s right. We were very surprised. But she insisted on giving notice, so, finally, the madam accepted it.”

  “Did she say anything about going to a different bar?”

  “No, it wasn’t that. She said she wanted to go back to her family for a while.”

  “Is that true?”

  The bartender grinned and replied, “I wonder. But I wouldn’t know.”

  “Is the madam here?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Could you please call her over?” Imanishi said in a low voice, as he showed him his police identification.

  The bartender’s demeanor changed. He bowed to Imanishi, then he hurried around the end of the bar and went toward the booths. The bartender returned with the madam. She was a tall, sexy-looking woman of about thirty. She was wearing a stylish kimono.

  “Welcome,” she said in a charming tone of voice.

  “Sorry to interrupt your work. I’d just like to ask a few questions. I understand that one of your girls, Emiko, quit yesterday?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Do you know what caused her to leave?”

  “She said that she planned to go back to her hometown. It was so sudden, I was really surprised. She’s been at this club for quite a while and had many customers, so it puts me on the spot to have her leave. When I told her that, she pleaded with me, nearly in tears, so I finally agreed to let her go even though she hadn’t given proper notice. Is Emiko in trouble?”

  “No, it’s not that. I wanted to ask her some questions. Do you know where she lives?”

  “She mentioned something about Kawaguchi.”

  “She moved out of there yesterday.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.” She seemed truly surprised.

  “What kind of customers did Emiko have?”

  “Let me see. She had all kinds. She was quiet, and seemed to be naive, so her customers were mostly quiet ones.”

  “Was there a Sekigawa-san among her customers?”

  “Sekigawa-san? Oh, you mean of the Nouveau group?”

  “Yes, that’s the person.”

  “He used to ask for Emiko by name quite a while ago, but not recently.”

  “When you say ‘quite a while ago,’ how long ago do you mean?”

  “It must have been about a year ago, now.”

  “Hasn’t he been in at all since then?”

  “He hardly ever comes now. Maybe once every two months or so, and usually with other people.”

  “Was there anything special between this Sekigawa-san and Emiko?” Imanishi asked the madam.

  “I wouldn’t know. He did ask for her once, but I don’t know what happened after that.”

  “Could it be that he stopped coming because their relationship was secretly becoming more intimate?”

  “I suppose so. The girls who work at places like this often have their lovers avoid their bars. So that may have been the case with Emiko as well.” The madam said this much and then asked Imanishi, “Was Sekigawa-sensei really on close terms with Emiko?”

  “I don’t know.” Imanishi didn’t want to be pushed on this point.

  “Did something peculiar happen between Sekigawa-sensei and Emiko?” the madam continued to ask.

  “No, not that I know of. It’s not anything Emiko-san did. As I said before, I came here because I just wanted to ask her some questions.”

  “I can’t believe that Sekigawa-sensei had something going with Emiko,” the madam said doubtfully.

  “Well, it isn’t clear that he did,” Imanishi said to prevent the conversation from becoming more confused. “If she comes by, please let me know her new work place and address.”

  He left Club Bonheur feeling that he had been put in a difficult position. As he walked Ginza’s back streets, he realized his own contradictory thoughts. Neither Emiko nor Sekigawa was the object of his investigation. It was absurd for him to be pursuing them. Yet he could not figure out Emiko’s sudden move from his sister’s place. He connected this hurried move to the fact that she had found out he was a detective. The elaborate precautions she took in moving were suspicious. She appeared to be hiding something. But strange behavior wasn’t reason enough for a detective to pursue her.

  He did, however, feel a certain foreboding regarding Emiko’s whereabouts. He didn’t have any specific reason, just a premonition. In terms of crime prevention, the police were absolutely powerless. It was only after the damage had been done that the police could move in. He couldn’t investigate on premonition alone.

  ELEVEN A Woman’s Death

  It was eleven-fifteen p.m. The nurse who took the telephone call remembered the time exactly because she was just about to go to her room to sleep. It was a man’s voice on the telephone.

  “Is this Uesugi Clinic?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Dr. Uesugi’s, the obstetrics and gynecology clinic?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “There’s an emergency patient here. Could the doctor come right away?” The man’s voice sounded young.

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “It’s a first-time patient.”

  “What is the problem?”

  “A pregnant woman has collapsed suddenly. She’s bleeding and has fainted.”

  “Are you sure she’s pregnant? How far along is she? It’s late. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  “She might be dead by tomorrow morning.” The man sounded as if he were threatening the nurse.

  “Wait a moment, please. I’ll ask the doctor.”

  The nurse put the receiver down beside the telephone and walked along the corridor to the doctor’s residence at the back of the clinic.

  “Doctor,” the nurse called through the paper shoji door, as she stood in the hallway. “Doctor.”

  She could see a light through the shoji. The doctor must still be awake.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s a telephone call about an emergency patient.”

  “An emergency? Who is it from?”

  “It’s a first-time patient. Apparently a pregnant woman has fallen and is bleeding.”

  “Couldn’t you refuse?” The doctor seemed reluctant. He hated to be called out late at night by a stranger who was probably overreacting or confused.

  “But he says it’s a severe case and she may die if it’s left until tomorrow morning.”

  “Who’s saying this?”

  “It’s a man’s voice. It sounds like the patient’s husband is alarmed.”

  “Well, I guess it can’t be helped.” The threat that she might die seemed to affect the doctor as well. “Make sure you get the exact address.”

  The nurse returned to the telephone. “We’ll be there right away.”

  “Thank you so much.” He sounded relieved.

  “Your address?”

  “There is a wide road leading north from the streetcar stop at Soshigaya Okura. Follow that road and you’ll see a shrine called Myojinsha. If you turn left at the edge of the shrine you’ll see a name plate for Kubota Yasuo at a house with a cedar fence.”

  “Are you Kubota-san?”

  “No, I’m renting the Kubotas’ cottage in the back. The entrance is through a wooden door.”

  “Could I ask your name?” the nurse asked.

  “It’s Miura. Miura Emiko. That’s the name of the patient.”

  “I understand.”

  “Um, will you be able to come right away?”

  “Yes, we’ll be there.”

  “Please hurry.”

  The nurse was not in a good mood. She had been interrupted just as she was about to go to bed. As she was sterilizing the needles, the doct
or appeared from the back of the house, coughing from a cold.

  “Have you prepared everything?”

  “Yes, I just finished sterilizing the needles.”

  The doctor went to the pharmacy to collect the necessary medicines.

  “Room number three is open, isn’t it?” the doctor asked, coming out of the room.

  “Yes.”

  “Depending on her condition, we may bring the patient here. Could you go back to the house and tell my wife to get the room ready?”

  The doctor packed his bag. He drove while the nurse sat in the passenger seat.

  “Let’s see, he said near the shrine?”

  “It’s in back of Myojinsha.”

  The doctor drove along the empty streets. Eventually the headlights lit the black woods ahead of them and the torii gate to the shrine.

  “It has to be this way.” The nurse pointed to a narrow road to the left. “That must be it,” she said, spotting the cedar fence.

  Approaching the house, the doctor flipped on his bright lights to read the name plate, “Kubota Yasuo.” He stopped the car and they got out.

  “He said they’re renting the back house, and there’s a separate wooden gate that leads to it.”

  They found the gate. The doctor turned on a flashlight and pushed it open. The cottage was easy to find. It was a small unit about six yards away from the main house. When he trained the flashlight on its entrance, they saw a piece of paper with “Miura” written on it pasted onto the side of the doorway in place of a name plate. A dim light shone from inside the house.

  “Excuse me,” the nurse called as she stood outside the latticed sliding door. “Excuse me.”

  No one came out.

  “They might be in the back. Don’t worry about it, open the door,” the doctor said.

  The door slid open easily. The nurse had the doctor go in first.

  “Excuse me.”

  Still no one came out.

  The doctor was annoyed. It was unheard of to have been summoned by telephone in the middle of the night and not even be greeted at the door.

  “Go on inside,” he ordered the nurse.

  The nurse was reluctant, but she slipped off her shoes resignedly and stepped up from the small entry way into the house.

  “Excuse me, excuse me,” the nurse continued to call out.

  There was still no answer. They could not even hear anyone’s footsteps.

  “Doctor, no one is coming.”

  “All right, I’ll go inside.”

  The doctor took off his shoes. A light was on in the main room. There must be someone there, he thought.

  The doctor opened the sliding door. Out of consideration for the patient, a towel had been placed around the lamp shade, which made the room quite dark. It was a six-tatami-mat room, with the bedding laid out in the center. A woman was lying there covered by a futon. Her hair trailed out at the side of the pillow.

  At first they thought the husband had gone out, perhaps to buy ice. But they could not wait around aimlessly for his return. The doctor turned back the futon. The woman lay with her face toward the wall.

  “Hello,” the nurse said in a low voice, “Hello.”

  There was no answer.

  “Could she be asleep?” the nurse asked the doctor, turning around.

  “If she’s asleep, it can’t be that serious.”

  The flashlight still in his hand, the doctor walked around the bedding and sat facing the patient.

  “Miura-san,” he said to her, focusing on her face.

  Even when the doctor called her, she didn’t move. Her expression was full of pain. Her brow was furrowed, her mouth slightly open.

  Suddenly he said in a different tone of voice, “Look around the place for someone else.”

  The nurse gathered the seriousness of the patient’s condition from the tone of the doctor’s voice. She went toward what appeared to be the kitchen.

  “Isn’t anyone here?” she called out two or three times. Still there was no answer. “No, Doctor, no one is here.” The nurse returned and stood behind the doctor.

  The doctor had already turned back the covers and placed his stethoscope on the patient’s chest. His concentration in listening for a heartbeat seemed to be more intense than usual.

  The nurse went to call the people from the main house. They were a couple in their fifties, who came in, having just been awakened, in confused haste.

  “Has something happened?” the wife asked.

  “I’m a doctor named Uesugi.”

  “Yes, I recognize you.”

  “I was just called to this house by telephone. I’m examining a patient. Is her husband here?”

  “Her husband?” the man of the house responded. “There’s no husband. She moved in alone.”

  “Alone? But some man called me on the telephone a little while ago.”

  The doctor looked at the nurse.

  “Yes, it was a man. He asked that we come here right away.”

  “Well, we didn’t call. We didn’t even know she was ill.”

  “Doctor, what seems to be the problem?” The couple fearfully entered the room and peered at the patient from the edge of the bedding.

  “She’s in critical condition,” the doctor said.

  “What? Critical?” The couple stared, amazed.

  “Her heart is still beating, but it’s faint. I don’t think she can make it.”

  “What… what happened?”

  “She’s expecting.”

  “Expecting?”

  “Yes, she’s pregnant. I think she’s about four months along. I can’t tell unless I examine her more closely, but she’s had a miscarriage.”

  The doctor had hesitated before he used the word “miscarriage.” He had a different opinion. He had chosen to use a softer expression. The couple looked at each other.

  “Doctor, what shall we do? This is really distressing,” the wife said.

  “Under normal conditions, she should be hospitalized. But in this situation, there’s nothing to be done.”

  “What a terrible problem,” the landlord said. His way of stating this revealed the inconvenience he was aware would result from having a person die on his premises.

  “Doesn’t she have any family?” the doctor asked.

  “No, we know of no one. She just moved here yesterday.”

  The doctor looked at the patient’s face again. He ordered the nurse to prepare an injection and quickly gave the patient a cardiac stimulant.

  “Is she conscious?” the landlord asked, looking at her.

  “No, I don’t think she’s aware of anything anymore.”

  Just as the doctor said this, the woman’s lips moved. The doctor watched her tensely.

  “… Stop it, please. Oh, no, no. I’m afraid something will happen to me. Stop it, please, stop, stop…” Then the words ceased.

  “Imanishi-san,” a young detective called out, “you have a telephone call.”

  Imanishi was at his desk writing a status report. He had been put in charge of an unimportant case.

  “All right.” He pushed his chair back and stood up.

  “It’s from someone named Tanaka.”

  “Tanaka?”

  “It’s a woman.”

  Imanishi could not place the name. “This is Imanishi,” he said, taking the receiver.

  “Thank you for coming by yesterday,” said the woman’s voice.

  “Yes?” Imanishi was taken aback since he couldn’t tell who it was.

  “I don’t think the name Tanaka means anything to you. I’m the madam at the Club Bonheur, which you visited yesterday. I wanted to inform you about Emiko, but perhaps you’ve already heard?”

  “No, I haven’t heard anything. Where is she?”

  “Emiko’s dead.”

  “She’s dead?” Imanishi was shocked. “Is that true?”

  “So you haven’t heard yet. Actually, after you left the bar, I had a telephone call from Emiko’s new landlord. He
said Emiko had died and that he wanted to contact her parents. He asked me if I knew where they were.”

  “I see. How did she die?” Imanishi was still astonished. He thought at first that Emiko had been killed. But if it had been murder, there would have been a report filed with the Homicide Division.

  “Apparently she was pregnant; she fell and hit herself in a bad place. I was completely unaware that she was pregnant, so I was shocked when I heard.” The madam seemed more surprised about Emiko’s pregnancy than about her death.

  “Where did this fall occur?”

  “At her new place. It seems she’d just moved in.”

  “And the address?” Imanishi picked up a pencil.

  “I’ll tell you exactly what the landlord told me. It was Kubota Yasuo’s house, Number xx, Soshigaya, Setagaya Ward. She had rented a cottage in back of the main house.”

  Imanishi hurriedly thanked her.

  Imanishi introduced himself to Kubota Yasuo, who seemed to be a good-natured man of about fifty.

  “We were very surprised,” Kubota said in response to the detective’s questions. “It was almost midnight when a doctor called to us from the house in back. He said that the woman who had just moved in was dying. We rushed over, but she was almost gone.”

  “So you hadn’t called the doctor?”

  “No. But someone had telephoned him.”

  “Did she come to rent the cottage herself?”

  “Yes, she did. We always list our cottage with the real estate agent across from the station. She said she heard about it there and came to see it.”

  “I see.”

  “I never expected anything like this to happen. She said she lived alone, so I thought she would be a quiet tenant, and gladly offered her a lease.”

  “Did she say that she worked as a bar hostess?”

  “No, she didn’t tell us that. She said that she was planning to go to a dressmaking school during the day, so I had no idea that she was a bar hostess. When I looked through her things after she died, I found something from a Club Bonheur. That’s why I called there last night.”

  “Can you tell me about the day she moved in?”

  “I can’t really tell you much. Her things were delivered night before last. As you can see, our rear house has its own entrance. I heard the moving van and thought that her things were probably being unloaded. But it was dark, and I didn’t bother to go and watch.”