Finally, was there something other than the films? He had deduced that Miki had seen the films because he had gone to the movie theater. He wondered if that conclusion had been too hastily arrived at. Miki might have gone twice to the movie theater to confirm something else. Could it have been a person? Someone in the audience? Did someone Miki knew work at the theater?
Imanishi returned to headquarters.
The vital link remained Ise City. Imanishi decided to inquire whether any employee at the theater knew Miki. He would also ask if any of the employees had quit after Miki visited the theater, and he would request information about the background of the manager himself. Perhaps Miki had gone to see him. He wrote a request to the investigation section at the Ise police station.
Imanishi waited impatiently for the reply, which came four days later.
This is in response to your inquiry.
The movie theater you inquired about is the Asahi Theater. The owner is Tadokoro Ichinosuke, 49 years old. We asked Tadokoro-san to check with his employees, but none of them had met or talked with the person in question. On the day you indicated, the theater did show the two movies you mentioned, previews of the next week’s films, and the preannouncement of The Road of the Century. There were no other short films or PR films shown. Tadokoro-san said he does not remember meeting Miki-san that day.
Tadokoro-san has lived in Ise City for some time. He is a self-made man who started out as an employee in a movie theater. He was born in xx Village near Nihonmatsu City in Fukushima Prefecture. He has lived in our city since he left home at a young age and settled here. He has one son and one daughter.
It seemed that Miki’s two visits to the movie theater had not been to meet anyone. Then was the reason hidden in those four films, after all? It couldn’t be. But Miki must have seen something. Otherwise, there would be no reason for him to go there twice, or for him to change his travel plans and go to Tokyo. What was it that had beckoned him to Tokyo?
Imanishi was also concerned about the house that had been visited by the door-to-door peddlers. He wondered if he should go there to check it out himself. The two peddlers had started to feel sick to their stomachs in the entryway. Yet nothing had happened to the policeman. Imanishi saw a problem in his going there himself. If he did, his face would become known. He did not want to show his face for a while yet, nor Yoshimura’s either.
Imanishi’s mind was getting cluttered. It was just about the end of the workday. He tidied up the top of his desk.
It was dark when he stepped outdoors. The lights of the streetcars and the headlights of the cars glared brightly. Several darkened silhouettes walked toward him.
“Hi,” someone called out. It was a group from the security section.
Imanishi recognized them. “Thanks for your hard work,” he said. “It must be tough, day after day.”
“It’s only another two or three days,” the other fellow said, smiling.
Tokyo was in the midst of a political reshuffling. The cabinet had resigned en masse, and a new cabinet was about to be formed. The men from the security section had been assigned to guard the prime minister’s residence.
The next morning Imanishi read his newspaper in bed. On the front page was the lineup of the new cabinet. The newspapers had been full of this news for a while, but the new cabinet had just been confirmed late the previous night. Imanishi picked out one of the names printed in large characters: “Agriculture and Forestry Minister: Tadokoro Shigeyoshi (Fukushima Prefecture representative, 6th term; 61 years old).”
This was the first time that Imanishi had realized that Tadokoro Shigeyoshi’s district was Fukushima Prefecture. He continued to stare at the print.
“Dear.” Yoshiko’s voice came through the sliding doors. “You’d better get up soon. It’s time.”
Imanishi put down the newspaper. Whether a new cabinet was formed or the opposition gained power, it had nothing to do with lower-level civil servants like Imanishi. He rose and washed his face. As he brushed his teeth he could smell miso soup and scallions.
During breakfast Yoshiko talked to him, but he did not even respond. In glum silence, he was not really listening, he was just eating. He muttered to himself… So Tadokoro Shigeyoshi was from Fukushima Prefecture.
“Fukushima Prefecture… Wait a minute.” Imanishi cocked his head to one side. Something sounded familiar about that location.
“Did you sleep on your neck wrong?” Yoshiko asked from across the table, seeing him cock his head.
Imanishi remained silent.
“Oh, that’s it.” He put down his teacup. The owner of that movie theater in Ise was from Fukushima Prefecture, too.
The residence of the new minister of agriculture and forestry was located on a rise in the Azabu area. That evening, Tadokoro Shigeyoshi, still in his cutaway, was accepting the congratulations of his family and followers after returning from the cabinet swearing-in ceremony. He had an impressive head of white hair and an upright bearing. His healthy face was continually smiling. This was his second time as a cabinet minister, but he seemed to find pleasure in the occasion.
Because of the arrival of so many well-wishers, it was nearly nine o’clock before he could take a rest. He moved to the dining table where his wife had laid out a congratulatory dinner. The inner circle had gathered to toast the occasion.
Tadokoro Sachiko had been helping her mother, but when Waga Eiryo arrived, she turned her attention to him.
“Congratulations,” Waga said as he bowed to his future father-in-law.
“Thank you.” Tadokoro narrowed his eyes. He was in a good mood. “Please, everyone, sit down.”
Tadokoro’s younger brother and his wife, his wife’s niece, and Sachiko’s younger brothers all sat down with them at the table. Tadokoro sat at the head of the table with his wife beside him. Waga and Sachiko sat across from the new cabinet minister and his wife. On the table were impressive dishes catered from a first-class restaurant. The only nonfamily member was Tadokoro’s private secretary.
“Does everyone have some wine?” Tadokoro’s wife asked, looking around the table. “Let’s toast Father.” Her face was the most excited.
“Father, congratulations.”
“Congratulations, Uncle.”
The way those at the table referred to the man varied, but their glasses were all raised to eye level.
“Thank you.” The new minister beamed with joy.
“Father, please do the best you can,” Sachiko said from across the table in a loud voice after everyone had taken a sip of wine.
“I’ll try.”
The newspapers said that it was rumored that the post of minister of agriculture and forestry was not what Tadokoro had hoped for, but the man still seemed to be in good spirits.
This small dinner party started off full of laughter.
Tonight, Waga wore a charcoal gray suit with white pinstripes, a bright white dress shirt, and a burgundy-colored necktie with a black design. He wore his fashionable clothes well, and his good looks complimented the luxuriously dressed men and women at the table. Beside him sat Sachiko in a crimson dress and a white orchid corsage.
Gazing at the couple sitting across the table, Tadokoro smiled and whispered to his wife, “Tonight seems more like a wedding party for the young couple than a celebration for me.”
About halfway through this enjoyable meal, the maid came to Sachiko and, in a low voice, announced some visitors. Sachiko gave the message to Waga, who looked across at Tadokoro.
“What is it?” her father asked Sachiko.
“Some members of Waga-san’s group have come to give you their congratulations. It’s Sekigawa-san, Takebe-san, and Katazawa-san.”
“Well, that’s thoughtful of them,” the minister said affably. “Sachiko, you know them, too?”
“Yes, I see them all the time. When Waga-san was in the hospital after his accident, they came to visit him.”
“So the Nouveau group has a strong sense of duty.”
Tadokoro smiled.
“Why don’t you show them into the living room?” his wife said.
“Why not have them come here? They’re not official guests, so it will be more informal if we invite them in here.”
The table was large enough to accommodate the extra guests. Mrs. Tadokoro ordered the maid to bring three more place settings at once. The young men, with Sekigawa in the lead, entered the room, guided by a maid. Seeing the gathering, they hesitated a bit, puzzled as to what they should do. Waga stood up and smiled at his friends.
“Congratulations on your new appointment.” The newcomers greeted their host and bowed.
Tadokoro pushed his chair back and stood up. “Thank you for being so courteous.”
Mrs. Tadokoro said, “Thank you for coming. Please join us.”
The children stared curiously at the newcomers who had intruded upon the family gathering. Sekigawa tapped Waga on the shoulder and took a seat. Extra glasses were brought in.
“Congratulations,” said Sekigawa in a toast. The other two also raised their glasses.
“Thank you.” Tadokoro bowed politely.
Waga stood up and moved behind the chairs of his three friends and said, “Thanks for coming.”
Sachiko also greeted them familiarly. “You’re all so busy, thank you for taking the time to come over.”
“Well, it is an occasion on which congratulations are in order. So we came right over,” Sekigawa responded, representing the others. “It looks like tonight might be a rehearsal for Waga’s wedding,” he said jokingly.
The small family party grew livelier with the addition of the three new guests. From the start, they talked a lot and drank a lot. Smiling broadly, Tadokoro listened to the young men’s discussion of art. The most animated speaker was Sekigawa. The other two were artists, so they did not reach the level of Sekigawa’s eloquence. Sekigawa explained the new artistic theory in terms that the elderly bureaucrat Tadokoro could understand.
The family dinner party ended about an hour after it had begun. The older people and children left. The others retired to the living room. Coffee and fruit were served.
Waga and Sachiko chatted quite naturally with their three friends. The talk was an extension of the artistic theory discussed in the dining room. In their eyes, leading figures of the establishment were nothing more than targets of denunciation. Tadokoro and his wife sat near them, listening. The lively young people spoke with animation. The older adults were quite overwhelmed.
More well-wishers came to the mansion. Newspaper reporters were among them, asking for photographs.
“It’s a perfect occasion for you to take some photos of me with these young people,” the new minister said, and stood informally with the others. Tadokoro and his wife were flanked by Waga and Sachiko, with Sekigawa, Katazawa, and Takebe included along with members of the family.
“Well, shall we take our leave?” It was Sekigawa who still took the lead.
“Why not stay a little longer?” Waga was acting like a member of the family already.
“No, it’s getting late.”
“Why don’t you stay and talk some more?” Sachiko tried to detain them.
Sekigawa said for the others, “Thank you so much for the delicious dinner.”
Waga and Sachiko saw them off at the front door.
The three young men walked away together.
“It was quite a gathering,” Takebe said.
“Right. Waga is already behaving like a son-in-law,” Katazawa said.
They took a taxi to Ginza.
“I know a bar near here. Let’s stop off and drink some more,” Takebe suggested. Katazawa agreed to go with him.
“Sekigawa, how about you?”
“No, I’ll beg off this time.”
“Why?”
“I’ve remembered something I have to do. Driver, let me off at Yurakucho.”
“So long.” Sekigawa stepped out and waved at the others. “See you soon.”
“Sekigawa’s acting a bit strange,” Katazawa said to Takebe. “Why did he get off alone there so late at night?”
“He may have been a bit upset about things tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“It might have been a shock for him to see the way Waga was acting this evening.”
“Hm.” Katazawa felt that he understood what his friend meant. They had both felt oppressed by Waga’s behavior at the Tadokoros’.
“He’s been really close to Waga recently. Tonight, too, he was in a good mood and talking up a storm.”
“That’s human nature for you,” Katazawa responded. “You go overboard acting lively at that kind of occasion. Then you feel lonely afterward.”
“Well, let’s drink, then,” Takebe said. “Let’s get drunk.”
Sekigawa walked alone. He appeared to have nowhere in particular to go. Turning away from the neon lights of Ginza, Sekigawa walked slowly down a side street, deep in thought. He entered a brightly lit pachinko hall.
“Give me two hundred yen worth.”
He scooped up the small metal balls in his hands and stood in front of a board. His thumb flipped the lever, sending the balls across the face of the machine. He did not seem to care at all whether he won or lost. He just kept on flipping the lever.
FIFTEEN On The Track
A letter arrived for Imanishi from the head of the investigation section of the Ise police station.
The following report is in answer to your inquiry.
We went immediately to question Tadokoro Ichinosuke, manager of the Asahi Theater. Tadokoro-san says he does not know any Miki Ken’ichi, nor did he meet him during the period you indicated. This is as we reported to you in answer to your last inquiry.
Tadokoro-san is from the same village as Tadokoro Shigeyoshi, who was recently appointed minister of agriculture and forestry. Tadokoro-san holds Tadokoro Shigeyoshi in the highest regard. Each time he visits Tokyo, he stops by at Tadokoro Shigeyoshi’s residence to pay his respects and to deliver some special items from this area. He also mentioned that he has received many favors from Tadokoro Shigeyoshi.
Tadokoro-san has at his home many letters, calligraphic works, photographs, and other items that he has received from Tadokoro Shigeyoshi. Furthermore, to show his respect for Tadokoro Shigeyoshi, he has occasionally displayed at the Asahi Theater commemorative photographs taken of himself with Tadokoro Shigeyoshi. When we inquired about May 9, he indicated that at that time there was an enlargement of a photograph taken with the Tadokoro Shigeyoshi family placed on the wall of the hallway leading into the auditorium of his theater. This photograph was taken down at the end of May, and is now at Tadokoro-san’s private home.
I have borrowed the original photograph from Tadokoro-san and am sending it under separate cover. Please return it when you are finished with it. I have signed a receipt for this item in my own name and request that the utmost care be taken so as not to lose the photograph.
Impatient to see the photograph, Imanishi left home early the next morning and reached headquarters at nine a.m. Only two young detectives had arrived so far.
“Hey, has the mail come?” Imanishi asked right away.
“No, sir, not yet.”
Imanishi could not sit still. He had never wished so hard for a new case not to break. If a murder occurred, he would have to rush out.
The section chief arrived just before ten o’clock.
“Imanishi,” he called from his desk.
Imanishi shuddered. But after talking with the chief, he was relieved that he would not need to leave the office. He returned to his desk to find that the mail had been delivered, but there was nothing for him.
“Hey, didn’t I get anything?” he asked the young detective who had distributed the mail.
“No, sir, there was nothing.”
“When does the next delivery come?”
“Usually about three.”
Imanishi sipped the tea that a junior detective served him. He could h
ardly wait for the next delivery. As the long hours stretched slowly into the afternoon, he sat at his desk filling out reports. He kept looking at the clock. One of the young detectives picked up the mail from the reception desk. At three-fifteen, he came through the door, waving a manila envelope.
“Finally, it’s here.” Imanishi jumped up from his chair.
Inside the envelope was a photograph protected by two sheets of cardboard. Imanishi looked at the photograph so intently that he no longer heard the voices around him. In an elegant garden of a grand residence half a dozen people were standing in a line. Imanishi focused his attention on one of them, staring at his face for a long time.
“Could you lend me a magnifying glass?” he asked a young detective.
The detective brought over a magnifying glass, and Imanishi placed it over the face in the photograph. So this photograph was what Miki had seen. The enlargement displayed on the wall at the Asahi Theater in Ise must have been nearly poster size.
Miki had focused on one face, and he must have gone back to jot down the name of that person from the label beneath it. Even without an address, he was the sort of person who would be easy enough to find in Tokyo. Miki had changed his plans and suddenly decided to go to Tokyo. There was someone he wanted to see again before he took leave of this world. That person was one of the people in the photograph. Miki arrived in Tokyo early on May 11 and looked up the address of the person in the photograph, perhaps in the telephone directory. He telephoned.
Imanishi telephoned Yoshimura to arrange a meeting at Kamata Station at six-thirty.
“Where shall we talk?”
“Let me see.” Imanishi looked down the long, narrow shopping street and led the way into a tearoom. The customers were mainly women who came to eat bean paste sweets, which made it a good location for their confidential conversation. They sat at the table farthest from the door.
“This is it.” Imanishi took the photograph out of his pocket.
“Please let me have a look.” Yoshimura gazed at the photograph, which he, too, had been eagerly awaiting. His eyes held the same expression as Imanishi’s had when he first saw the picture.
Inspector Imanishi Investigates Page 27
