by David Peace
In the Fictional City, we walk in silence through the streets of Shiinamachi, in silence through the mud and the sleet, in silence to a coffee shop by the station. We open the door to the coffee shop and we step inside, the coffee shop filled with customers and conversation, and we sit down at a table and she takes off her scarf. Now the conversations stop and the customers stare, and she looks down at the table, at the sugar bowl and the ashtray, and she says, ‘I’m sorry. I want to go home.’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, he walks through the cigarette smoke, across the sticky floor, and he sits down and he says, ‘Sorry about the other night. I tried to call you, but you’d already left the office.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘Forget it. You’re here now. So what have you got for me, Detective?’
‘Well, it’s not something you can probably print, not for now, but I think it’s something you should know. What they’re not saying in their statements is that there’s a growing feeling among many of the detectives that this case is connected with the Tokumu Kikan and their operations in Occupied China during the war. There are rumours of similar cases to the Teigin case that occurred in Shanghai during the war, that the culprit is ex-Tokumu Kikan, with experience handling medicines and civilians, and that’s who we should be looking for. On the other hand, there are some detectives, particularly the older guys, who think all these rumours are just a distraction, that it’s nothing to do with Tokumu Kikan and Occupied China. So there are almost two rival lines of inquiry now. But, as I say, what I’m telling you is nothing you can print, but there’s also nothing to stop you looking into the China connection, is there?’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, I have walked her streets, I have heard her stories, her stories of old soldiers, her stories of new poisons –
In the Fictional City, her stories in my notebook.
Now I take these stories from my notebook and I write them out. I write them out in letters. In letters, on grids –
TEIGIN POLICE CHASE POISON SCHOOL LEAD
SCAP Assistance Sought In Hunt For Mass Murderer
TOKYO – Police investigating the Teikoku Bank ‘Poison Holdup’ case are now actively pursuing two new lines of inquiry in their frantic efforts to catch the cold-blooded fiend responsible for the diabolical poison-murders.
Senior detectives have requested the assistance of the SCAP Public Safety Division in locating a Lieutenant Hornet and a Lieutenant Parker, both names being used by the mass killer and associated with typhus disinfecting teams in the Tokyo area.
Witnesses at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank reported the suspect as saying, ‘I came here with Lieutenant Parker in a jeep because a new typhus case happened in the vicinity.’ While at the Shiinamachi branch of the Teikoku Bank, the same individual is reported as saying, ‘I came here because there have been many dysentery cases in the area. Lieutenant Hornet will be here soon.’
Police believe Lieutenant Hornet to have been associated with the Toshima Team in the Ōji and Katsushika Wards, while Lieutenant Parker was associated with the Ebara Disinfecting Team.
Investigators have requested that the Public Safety Division of SCAP provide any information, names and addresses of Japanese individuals either connected with or having knowledge of the disinfecting work done by either of the above lieutenants, particularly interpreters or individuals who speak English.
Meanwhile, police are also checking a new lead concerning ex-personnel of the former Japanese Imperial Chemical Laboratory in Tsudanuma, Chiba-ken.
It is known that experiments were conducted at the Tsudanuma Laboratory with prussic acid as a poison. Police believe that the modus operandi of the Teikoku Bank ‘Poison Holdup’ case and the use of prussic poison by the criminal are very similar to the training developed by Tsudanuma Arsenal.
In the Fictional City, I stop writing and I read what I have written. These letters in their grids. I stop reading. Now I get up from my desk, and I walk down the long, long table to my editor’s desk –
‘Ah, Takeuchi,’ smiles Ono. ‘What have you got for me today? Something meaty, I hope, something juicy …’
I hand him the paper. I say, ‘I think so.’
Ono sits back in his chair. He adjusts his glasses. He starts to read, nodding, nodding, nodding and now smiling, he says, ‘Great!’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘They’re denying it, of course …’
‘Of course,’ says Ono. ‘But that’s their problem. Not yours.’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, in the genkan to her house, she looks at the bunch of flowers in my hand, and she asks, ‘Why?’
‘The other day,’ I say. ‘It was a mistake. The coffee shop. I didn’t think. All those people. It was a bad idea …’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she says.
I hold out the flowers. I say, ‘Please. They are for you …’
She bows. She takes the flowers. She says, ‘Thank you.’
The door to her house closes now, locked again.
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, among the stained-suits and the bad-skins, beneath the swing band and the reflecting lights, he hisses, ‘I was taking a big risk telling you the things I did, showing the documents I did. A big, big risk. And what for? For nothing. I read your so-called newspaper every day and every day I see nothing. Nothing about the SCAP connection, nothing about the Tsudanuma Arsenal. So it seems to me I took a big, big risk for nothing …’
‘Not exactly nothing,’ I tell him. ‘Yes, you took a risk, but you also took my cash. I paid you …’
‘Not enough. Not enough for the risk I took. So I want to know what’s happening, why I took a risk for nothing …’
‘I wrote the story,’ I tell him. ‘I gave it to my boss, he read it in front of me and he liked it, liked it very much …’
‘So where is it then, this story of yours, this story your editor says he liked, liked so very much?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say.
He stands up. He says, ‘Well, find out. Or you can forget about any more help, any more stories from me.’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, I stand before my editor’s desk at the head of the long, long table and I say, ‘Excuse me, Boss …’
‘Takeuchi,’ mutters Ono, not smiling. ‘What is it?’
‘Well, I’m sorry to disturb you,’ I say. ‘But I was wondering what had happened to that piece I wrote on the Poison School? You’d seemed very happy with it, you’d said you liked it, but…’
‘Yes,’ nods Ono. ‘I did like it. Very much …’
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘But it hasn’t run yet…’
‘Not yet,’ says Ono. ‘Not been the time, not yet. Thought we’d wait and see if there was any statement from the MPB first. Maybe then get some quotes from them, flesh it out.’
‘I see,’ I say.
‘I’ve told you before,’ he tells me again. ‘In our business, you have to choose your time, pick your moment carefully. Don’t get me wrong, I like the story, like it very much and I’ll run it, I will. But in our business, there’s always a right time, always a wrong time to run a story. But that’s my job, my worry, not yours. So you just leave it with me, forget about it now, now you’ve done your bit, and you just get after the next one. Because there’s always a next one, isn’t there? Always another story, out there somewhere …’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, in a restaurant far from Shiinamachi, far from the scene of the crime, I ask her, ‘How is work? It must feel strange being back there at the bank now, after everything …’
‘Are you asking me as a reporter,’ she whispers, ‘or as a … As a what? What are you? Who are you, Mr Takeuchi?’
I look down at the table, the glass jar of toothpicks, the white bottle of soy sauce, and I say, ‘A friend, I hope …’
‘Then thank you,’ says Murata Masako. ‘I hope so, too.’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, a telephone rings, a voice whispers, along the wires, down the cables, with a time and with a place –
Down an alley, in a
room, another room of shadows, another room of stares, another man hands me another envelope –
I open the envelope. I read its contents:
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS
SUPREME COMMANDER FOR THE ALLIED POWERS
Civil Intelligence Section, G-2
PUBLIC SAFETY DIVISION
APO 500
11 March 1948
Memorandum
SUBJECT: Teikoku Bank Robbery Case
To: Mr H. S. Eaton, Chief Administrator, Police Branch
1. Interference by Japanese newspaper reporters with the police investigation of the Teikoku Bank Robbery case, as reported by Jiro Fujita, Chief of Detectives, Tokyo Metropolitan Police earlier on 11 March 1948 was discussed informally by Bryon Engle, Administrator in Charge, Police Branch, and this investigator; at 1100 hours this date with Major D. C. Imboden, OIC, Press and Publications Section.
2. In response to suggestions of PSD representatives, Major Imboden approved Mr Fujita’s projected press conference for the purpose of discussing the Teikoku case with Japanese newspaper executives in order that the problems created by interference of news reporters might be fully explained to the newsmen and for the purpose of soliciting the cooperation of the newspapers in halting such reported practices as reporters following suspects in the case and shadowing police investigators working on the case as well as reporters representing themselves to be detectives in order to secure news matter. Major Imboden advised Mr Engle at 1300 hours this date that telegraphic advice had been dispatched to all Japanese newspapers not to interfere with the police investigation in the Teikoku case or indulge in such practices as have been ascribed to the Tokyo reporters by Mr Fujita.
3. Major Imboden also stated that he would communicate personally with the publisher of the Yomiuri Shimbun in Tokyo and advise him to have his reporters removed immediately from their reported watch on the homes of persons working or secretly assisting in the investigation. He also said he would discuss the matter with Allied censorship authorities exercising control of Japanese publications and request the censors cooperate in stopping publication of any article containing any reference to the police investigation of a Japanese Army Poison School being connected with the Teikoku case; further he will request the censors screen all articles pertaining to the Teikoku case on the basis of whether publication of the article will hinder apprehension of the culprit.
JOHNSON F. MUNROE
Police Investigator
I stop reading. I put the document back in its envelope. I hand him back the envelope. I take out my wallet. I hand him the cash.
The man counts the cash. The man puts it in his jacket pocket. The man smiles and says, ‘Didn’t think you’d like it, but thought you should see it. Explains a lot doesn’t it?’
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, days pass and stories pass; days of snow, days of wind, days of rain and days of sun, stories of food poisoning, stories of strikes, stories of cabinets resigning and stories of cabinets forming, the end of Katayama and the beginning of Ashida, as winter turns to spring, spring to summer, the sky falling and the temperature rising, as censorship turns to coercion, coercion to complicity in the Fictional City, where days pass and stories pass, days and stories passing in complicity and in columns until Sunday 22 August 1948, and a story, a story not in my paper, not in the Yomiuri –
A story in our rival paper, in the Mainichi:
Teikoku Bank Poison Robbery Suspect Arrested in Otaru
OTARU, Aug. 22 – A well-known water-colour artist residing at Shinkinaimachi, Otaru City, Hokkaido, yesterday morning was arrested by detectives of the Metropolitan Police Board as a highly important suspect in the Teikoku Bank ‘mass poison murder’ case.
The arrival of the Tokyo detectives specifically for the purpose of arresting Hirasawa Sadamichi, 57, and taking him to Tokyo for questioning has given strong reason for believing that the police may finally have nabbed the long-sought-for Teikoku Bank criminal.
It is understood that Hirasawa previously had been listed by the manhunt headquarters in Tokyo as a likely suspect.
The arrested man was reported closely to fit the description of the diabolic Teikoku Bank murderer.
On April 16, last year, Hirasawa is said to have secured a name-card from Dr Matsui Shigeru, Welfare Ministry employee, when he met the doctor aboard an Aomori-Hokkaido ferryboat.
He is suspected of having used the name-card in holding-up the Teikoku Bank on January 26, this year. It is known that Hirasawa left Yokohama for Otaru aboard the Hikawa Maru on February 10, this year, shortly after the Teikoku Bank case.
Furthermore, suspicion has been heightened against the suspect by information obtained by the police that he transmitted a sum of ¥80,000 to his wife Masako, 55. Besides, the letter once sent to him by his wife said: ‘Please don’t do such a bad thing again.’
Hirasawa is well known in Tokyo art circles as a member of a water-colour artists’ association. He is said to have presented his paintings to the Bunten Art Exhibition numerous times.
In the Fictional City, I run down the long, long, long, long table to my editor’s desk, the Mainichi in my hand –
‘Just the man I wanted to see,’ says Ono. ‘Though that’s not the story I wanted to see, least not in that paper!’
I say, ‘We’ve been scooped …’
‘No time for tears now,’ sighs Ono, tapping his watch. ‘This suspect, this Hirasawa, he’ll be arriving at Ueno Station first thing tomorrow morning and I want you there with your girlfriend …’
I start to say, ‘She’s not my girlfriend …’
‘No time for denials now,’ laughs Ono. ‘You’ve got a busy day and night ahead of you, a lot of ground to make up. Before that train pulls into Ueno Station, I want an interview with this Hirasawa’s wife. Here’s her address …’
I take the address from him and I ask, ‘How did they get all that information, the Mainichi? Who are they talking to and why are they not talking to us? We’ve sat back, done what we’ve been told, played the game, been good little boys. It’s not fair …’
‘I’ve told you before,’ he tells me again. ‘You think too much. In our business, there’s no time for thoughts, no time for theories. In our business, we’ve just got to get on and get after the next story. And your next story is Hirasawa Masako …’
The next story, the next story …
In the Fictional City, I’m expecting the worst; expecting crowds of reporters and their photographers outside Number 32, 2-chōme, Miyazono-dōri, Nakano-ku, the wife and children of Hirasawa Sadamichi already in hiding or already waiting at the Mejiro Police Station, waiting for the arrival of Hirasawa Sadamichi. But in the Fictional City, there are no reporters and their photographers outside Number 32, 2-chōme, Miyazono-dōri, Nakano-ku, just a woman tending to some flowers, some poppies –
‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘Are you Hirasawa Masako?’
The woman looks up from the flowers, the poppies, and wipes her face on a towel and says, ‘Yes. Can I help you?’
‘My name is Takeuchi Riichi,’ I tell her. ‘I’m a journalist for the Yomiuri newspaper. I was wondering if I could talk to you about your husband, Hirasawa Sadamichi? Please?’
‘My husband?’ she says. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I’m very sorry to tell you that he’s been arrested …’
‘Arrested?’ she says. ‘What’s he been arrested for?’
‘The Teikoku Bank murder case.’
‘What?’ she laughs. ‘Don’t be ridiculous …’
But now another car is pulling up outside Number 32, 2-chōme, Miyazono-dōri, Nakano-ku, another journalist jumping out of the car, another journalist shouting ‘Mrs Hirasawa? Please …’
I say, ‘I’m afraid it’s true. But I think we should go inside, if you don’t mind. Then I’ll tell you everything I know …’
The wife of Hirasawa Sadamichi is still laughing, but she is nodding now, ushering me up her path and into her house, calling her daughter out of their kitc
hen as I turn back now, closing their front door in the face of the other journalist with an, ‘Excuse me …’
‘They’ve arrested Father,’ Mrs Hirasawa is telling her daughter. ‘For the Teikoku Bank murders!’
‘What? Father?’ says her daughter, looking at me, then at her mother, and now she is laughing, too –
‘It must be a joke …’
Laughing but looking at the front door to their house, listening to the banging on the door, the tapping on the window –
‘A joke…’
In the Fictional City, back in my office, back at my desk, I am writing another story:
Wife Refutes Charge
Tokyo, Aug. 23 – Mrs Hirasawa Masako, wife of the latest Teikoku Bank ‘poison holdup case’ suspect, yesterday denied as ‘ridiculous’ reports that her husband was the long-sought diabolic criminal on being interviewed at her residence in Nakano here.
Mrs Hirasawa said that her husband left Tokyo for Otaru, Hokkaido, on February 10 for the purpose of paying a visit to his ailing brother.
She said that whereas her husband’s age and greying hair may fit the description of the wanted man, it was unbelievable that he committed such a diabolic crime.
Mrs Hirasawa added that there was no reason for her husband to commit such a crime to obtain money, as her three daughters were earning a total of ¥15,000 monthly, which is quite enough to support them.
She hoped that the survivors of the Teikoku Bank murder case swiftly would be given an opportunity to see her husband, as she was confident that their judgment would clear her husband of all suspicion.
IN THE FICTIONAL CITY, it is not yet dawn but it is already hot as I knock on her door. Again and again I knock on her door, banging and banging, until she says from behind the door, ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s me,’ I say. ‘Takeuchi.’
