by David Peace
Hell, you’re just a regular patriot, is what you are, Sweeney, said the one with the scowl. Drink all day and fight all night, yeah? Fuck, way you beat that Jap kid up, they should be giving you a medal, that what you think?
I barely fucking touched the kid.
You even remember, Harry?
It was a slap on the cheek. It was nothing.
Not the goddamn way he looks, Sweeney, not the fucking way he tells it either. What’s left of his mouth.
Harry Sweeney shook his head again: That’s bullshit.
Look, Harry, said the one with the smile. Just give us your statement, you’re out of here. We file the report, it goes up the chain. Be a rap on the knuckles is all.
Yeah, just better pray your knuckles have healed by then, champ, said the one with the scowl.
Harry Sweeney looked down at his hands, looked down at his knuckles, black and purple, scabbed and swollen.
Yeah, said the scowl again. You take a good look at them knuckles of yours, Sweeney. Might want to think again about that slap on the cheek you was telling us about.
Harry Sweeney stared down at his knuckles and Harry Sweeney shook his head: I didn’t mean to…
We know, said the smile, crouching down beside Harry Sweeney. We know you didn’t, Harry.
In the cell, on the cot, Harry Sweeney raised his hands, he raised his knuckles, black and purple, bloody and swollen. He held them up to his face, held them up to his eyes, looking at them, staring at them, black and purple, bloody and swollen, turning them over, turning them back, then he buried his face in his hands, buried his eyes in his hands, rocking back and forward, on the cot, in the cell, the tears from his eyes falling into his hands, his tears falling through his knuckles, black and purple, bloody and swollen, rocking back and forward, saying, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…
* * *
—
Night turned to day, turned to night, turned to day, how many nights, how many days, he did not know, he could not tell. But with a copy of his statement and with the bandages around his knuckles, under the canopy, then through the doors, Harry Sweeney walked into the Yaesu Hotel and across the lobby. He saw Satō-san behind the front desk, saw him look away, and he saw all the other hotel staff, saw them all look away. Harry Sweeney almost stopped, he almost spoke. But Harry Sweeney did not stop, he did not speak. Harry Sweeney kept on walking through the lobby, toward the elevators. But Harry Sweeney did not take an elevator, he took the stairs instead. Four flights up to his floor, the fourth floor, then down the corridor, toward the elevators. Before the elevators on the fourth floor, Harry Sweeney stopped, and before the wall opposite the elevators, Harry Sweeney swallowed, then blinked. He saw the holes in the wall, he saw the stains down the wall, and swallowing again and blinking again, he reached out to the holes and the stains, and he touched the holes and the stains. His fingers in the holes, his fingers down the stains, the bandages around his knuckles, the bandages around his wrists, Harry Sweeney struggled to breathe, to hold back his tears, to turn away from the holes, away from the stains, and to walk down the corridor, down to his room. Before his room, before its door, Harry Sweeney took out his key, put the key in the lock, turned the key in the lock, and opened the door to his room. He stepped inside his room, picked up two letters from the floor. He closed the door, put the letters on the desk. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. He took off his shoes, then stood back up. He took off his jacket, his shirt, and his pants. He walked over to the washstand and turned on the faucets. He took off his watch, with its cracked face, with its stopped hands, and placed it between the faucets. He unwound the bandage around his left knuckles, he unwound the bandage around his right knuckles. He dropped them on the floor. He unhooked the safety pin that secured the bandage on his left wrist, he unhooked the safety pin that secured the bandage on his right wrist. He dropped them on the floor. He unwound the bandage on his left wrist, he unwound the bandage from his right wrist. He dropped them on the floor and he turned off the faucets. He put his knuckles and his wrists into the basin and the water, he soaked his knuckles and his wrists in the water in the basin. He watched the water wash away the blood, he felt the water cleanse his wounds. He nudged out the stopper, he watched the water drain from the basin, from around his wrists, from between his knuckles. He lifted his hands from the basin, he picked up a towel from the floor. He dried his knuckles on the towel, he dried his wrists on the towel. He folded the towel, he hung it on the rail. He walked over to the desk, he sat down at the desk. He stared down at the two envelopes on the top of the desk: the one posted from America, with his name and the address of the hotel, the other hand-delivered, with just his name and his room number. He picked up the second envelope and he opened the second envelope. He took out a single folded piece of paper, he unfolded the single piece of paper. He read the single sentence on the single piece of paper: It’s closing time, but Zed Unit are not to be blamed for nothing. He screwed up the piece of paper, screwed up the single sentence. He threw it on the floor, he picked up the first envelope. He opened the envelope, he took out the many folded pieces of paper. He unfolded the many pieces of paper, he scanned the many pieces of paper. Their many sentences, their many words: Betrayal. Deceit. Judas. Lust. Marriage. My religion. You traitor. Will never give up. Give you a divorce. I know what you are like, I know who you are. I forgive you, Harry. Come home, Harry. Please just come home. He put down the many pages, with their many sentences, their many words, put them on the desk before him. Then Harry Sweeney sat forward with his elbows and his arms on the desk, and Harry Sweeney looked down at his wrists and his knuckles. The scars on his wrists, the scabs on his knuckles. Then Harry Sweeney raised his hands toward his face, and Harry Sweeney brought his palms together. And he bowed his head, and he closed his eyes, and he said, Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner…
* * *
—
Breaks my heart, Harry, said Colonel Pullman. I can’t tell you how much it hurts me, son, to see you like this, in this kind of mess. Hell, you’re one of the best damned officers I’ve got.
Back on the fourth floor of the NYK building, back in the office of Colonel Pullman, stood before his desk, with his head bowed again, Harry Sweeney said, I’m sorry, sir.
You and me both, son, sighed Colonel Pullman. He put down the Letter of Resignation, then he picked up the Delinquency Report again. He sighed again, looked across his desk again, and said, It’s not just this then, Harry?
Harry Sweeney looked up at Colonel Pullman, at the Delinquency Report in his hands, and shook his head and said, Just think that’s a sign, sir, a sign it’s time.
Sign you been working too hard, son, is all I think it is, said Colonel Pullman, waving the Delinquency Report across his desk at Harry Sweeney. Hell, I’ve had Chief Evans, Bill Betz, even goddamn Toda in here, all telling me how you’ve not been sleeping, been pulling twenty-four-hour shifts…
Harry Sweeney looked down at his hands, at the scabs on his knuckles, and he shook his head again: Sir…
Now I know everybody’s got themselves all twisted up over this whole damned Shimoyama business, and I was there, don’t forget, I was in the room, son, when old General Willoughby tore you a new one. And I felt for you, Harry, I really did, son. Because I know you’re a conscientious officer, a diligent detective, Harry, and so I know you’re upset, you’re frustrated, you have a few too many drinks and…
Harry Sweeney shook his head: Sir…
Hold on there, son, said Colonel Pullman. Now I’m not saying it’s nothing. It’s not. And I know you know it’s not nothing, Harry, I can see that. But it’s a severe reprimand, is what it is, not a goddamn resignation, son.
Sir, please, I’ve thought…
Hear me out, Harry, said Colonel Pullman, putting down the Delinquency Report again. Because you leave now, leave like this, with this on your file,
this on your record, then what you going to do, son, where you going to go? What police force back home is going to take you, Harry? Not a goddamn one is who, son, not with this on your record, you know that, Harry. But see, this Occupation’s already winding down. Two, three years tops, we’ll all be gone. And thank God, son. Leave them to get the hell on with it with themselves, is what I say, Harry, it’s their goddamn country. So all you need to do is sit tight, see out your time, son, stay out of trouble, away from the drink, Harry, then you’re leaving with a clean record of service and a glowing letter of commendation from me, that’s what I’ll be giving you, son, that’s what you’ll be leaving with, Harry. Then you’re walking into any goddamn force in the land, any goddamn force you choose, son. Maybe even being some sweet little sheriff in some sweet little town, Harry. Imagine that, son, how sweet would that be, right, Harry?
Harry Sweeney looked up from the scabs on his knuckles, and he stared across the desk at Colonel Pullman, and he shook his head again and said, I’m sorry, sir.
Look, son, said Colonel Pullman, picking up the Letter of Resignation again, holding it out across the desk toward Harry Sweeney. You’re upset, Harry, I know that, I can see that, son. But maybe you’re not thinking straight, or maybe you are. Either way, son, I can’t let you just walk out of here, resign with immediate effect. Don’t work like that, Harry, you know that. You got to give me notice so I can get you replaced, son. But here’s what I’ll do, Harry: I’ll note down what you said, and the date that you said it, then you take back this letter and you put it in your pocket. Then come the end of the month, you come back in here, you come back to me, then you tell me what you’re thinking, and if your thinking’s still the same, same as in that letter, son. You got that, got that straight, Harry?
And Harry Sweeney looked at Colonel Pullman, at the letter in his hands, and Harry Sweeney nodded.
Very good then. Dismissed.
* * *
—
Harry Sweeney closed the door behind him and started to walk away, down the corridor. He stopped, turned, and walked back toward the door. He stopped before the door to Colonel Pullman’s office, his right hand in a fist, his knuckles aching. He raised his fist, his knuckles to knock on the door again, but stopped again, lowered his knuckles, his fist, and his hand again, swallowed and turned away again, away from the door again, and he walked back down the corridor, back to Room 432 of the Public Safety Division. The office was quiet, the blackboards were gone, Betz and Toda, too; no sign of George or Dan; only Sonoko, at a desk, with her eyes down, her fingers moving, reading through reports, typing out translations. Harry Sweeney walked across the office, between the furniture, up to her desk, and said, Hey, where is everyone, Sonoko?
Oh, cried Sonoko, jumping back from the keys of her typewriter, her hand to her heart. I’m sorry, sir –
No, I’m sorry. I gave you a fright.
Excuse me, said Sonoko, flapping her hands, catching her breath. I wasn’t expecting you, sir. How are you, sir? I hope you are feeling better now, sir?
Harry Sweeney smiled: I hope so, too. Thank you.
I think there’s something going around, sir, said Sonoko. Mister Toda’s been ill, too, you know, sir.
Harry Sweeney nodded: He still ill?
No, no, sir. He should be back quite soon. I think he just went down to the canteen, sir.
And Chief Evans and Mister Betz?
Well, I believe Chief Evans is in a meeting with the Public Prosecutor, sir, said Sonoko. But I’m afraid I’m not sure where Mister Betz is, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Would you like me to try and find out, sir?
Harry Sweeney smiled again: No, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure he’ll turn up.
Sonoko looked at Harry Sweeney and smiled and said, Is there anything I can do for you, sir? Can I get you something to drink, sir? Some water, sir, some coffee, sir?
That’s very kind of you, said Harry Sweeney. Some coffee would be good, thank you.
Very good, sir, said Sonoko, smiling broadly, springing up from her chair. Coffee coming right up, sir!
Thank you, sweetheart, said Harry Sweeney again, smiling back, then turning away, still smiling as he walked over to his own desk, still smiling as he sat down in his chair, smiling until he saw the police reports and the daily newspapers all piled up on his desk, until he saw the list of names and numbers, the telephone calls to be returned, if he returned, returned to his desk. Harry Sweeney put the list of names and numbers to one side. He stood back up, walked over to open the window, then back to his desk. He took off his jacket, hung it on the back of his chair, then sat back down at his desk. He picked up the pile of newspapers, turned them over to start from the bottom of the pile, then he began to flick through them, one by one, one after another, scanning the headlines: POLICE CONTINUE TO PROBE DEATH OF SHIMOYAMA / NO DIRECT CLUE FOUND BY POLICE / POLICE CHECKING MYSTERIOUS CALL RECEIVED BY NRWU / STOLEN CAR RECOVERED / SHIMOYAMA DEATH REMAINS A MYSTERY / WAS RAILWAYS GOVERNOR MURDERED OR DID HE DIE BY HIS OWN HANDS? – NO SUFFICIENT PROOF TO DECIDE EITHER WAY, SAYS CHIEF PROSECUTOR / SHIMOYAMA DEATH STILL A MYSTERY / MYSTERY WRITERS OF JAPAN MEET: ROMAN KURODA VOWS TO CRACK “JAPANESE LINDBERGH CASE” / NO DIRECT CLUE FOUND BY POLICE YET / TOOK OUT IMPORTANT PAPERS FROM CHIYODA BANK SAFE / EYEGLASSES, NECKTIE, CIGARETTE CASE STILL MISSING / AUTOPSY FINDINGS CALLED INTO QUESTION – TIME OF DEATH UNCERTAIN / PROBE INTO SHIMOYAMA CASE EXTENDED GEOGRAPHICALLY / MANY FACTORS TENDING TO SUPPORT SHIMOYAMA SUICIDE THEORY UNEARTHED / GOV’T MAY OFFER ONE MILLION YEN FOR SHIMOYAMA CASE CLUE / CHIEF KITA DECLARES MUD FOUND ON SHOES IMPORTANT CLUE: IDENTICAL TO SAMPLES FROM THE VICINITY / CHIEF CABINET SECRETARY REBUKES KITA: NO DEFINITE PROOF EARTH ON SHOES IDENTICAL TO PLACE OF TRAGEDY / CHIEF PROSECUTOR ASKS POLICE TO INVESTIGATE SHIMOYAMA CASE ON ASSUMPTION OF HOMICIDE / TEAHOUSE PROPRIETRESS COMES INTO LIMELIGHT…
Harry Sweeney leaned back in his chair, loosened his tie, undid his collar button, then sat forward at his desk again. He put the pile of newspapers to one side, picked up the pile of police reports, turned them over to start from the bottom, then began to flick through them, one by one, one after another, scanning the sentences: There have been no firm developments in the case / Investigations continue into clues reported earlier / Press reports of “Mysterious telephone calls” are to be regarded as journalistic license / Shimoyama was in the habit of smoking “Chikari” cigarettes and, on occasion, a briar pipe; none of these objects or his lighter were found at the scene / He did speak of needing to purchase a wedding present with an employee of the RR prior to his disappearance / Checks are ongoing as to whether Shimoyama had any insurance policy, amount involved, beneficiaries, and whether recently acquired / There have been no definite developments in the case at this time / Checks are being made on trains which passed over Shimoyama’s body in search for missing personal items such as cigarette lighter, Eversharp pen, necktie clip, and spectacles / Translation of letter received by Chief Inspector Kanehara of the MPD on 10 July 1949, mailed in plain envelope at the Tokyo Central Post Office, Marunouchi, on 7 July 1949, written on obsolete report form used by former Imperial Government offices: Mr. Shimoyama met Heaven’s Justice. Though he dismissed 150,000 employees, it appeared he had no pity for them. It was a brutal act conducted for the reconstruction of Japan. It is said that those who lost their jobs will be hired by civilian companies, but this is lies and propaganda. More than half of the employees of the Toshiba Company were already dismissed into poverty and starvation. Of course, this brutal act was not done by Mr. Shimoyama alone. There will be another Shimoyama, there will be more victims. But remember: Heaven sympathizes with the Poor. Accordingly, even MacArthur will be killed by those he abandoned to poverty and starvation. You may be one of the victims, too. So stop your investigation work. No, do your investigation work as it is your duty. But remember: the efforts of Mr. Kanehara will be for naught / Hairs found on pillow at Suehiro inn used by guest suspected to be Sh
imoyama are being checked / 11.30 pm, July 5th, a man was observed leaning against a telephone pole in front of Suehiro inn / In response to PSD query, a check showed that both the top two buttons on Shimoyama’s shirt and undershirt were still attached to the cloth, while the remaining buttons had been torn off. This indicates quite conclusively to MPD that Shimoyama was not wearing a necktie at the time of the train incident and that the two top buttons were open / Correction: Shimoyama had been in possession of a cigarette holder, not a pipe as previously reported; this holder is of wood, brown, with a black stem. This item has not been found to date / The stolen car, recovered in the vicinity of Fukagawa, has been checked for prints. One found on rear-vision mirror. This has not been checked with Shimoyama print or any suspect as yet / The search at the scene of the disaster has now been extended to nearby drains and fields / Checks continue on the railway stations at Ueno, Asakusa and Kita-Senju for trace of Shimoyama / Report on identification of handwriting on anonymous letter received by MPD: expert TAHARA believes handwriting is that of young man with average schooling and education. Attempt was made on first page to disguise handwriting but was discarded in latter parts. Ordinary writing ink was used with brush. Writing on envelope same as letter / In response to GHQ suggestion on investigation procedure, preliminary check made with all police boxes in the immediate vicinity as to union members residing in area revealed: 17 current members of the RR union, 2 formerly employed by RR, and 5 suspected Communists, 1 definitely. Area to be checked will be expanded as investigation continues / No new facts which would confirm murder theory have been uncovered / Reinvestigation of alibi of Mrs. Nobu MORISHITA in progress…
One by one, Harry Sweeney went through the reports, not noticing Sonoko put down the cup of coffee on his desk, one after another, not noticing the cup of coffee go cold, one by one, Harry Sweeney not noticing Susumu Toda come back into the office, one after another, not hearing Susumu Toda speak, one by one, one after another, not noticing anything, not hearing anything, until Harry Sweeney had finished going through the reports, until Harry Sweeney heard Susumu Toda click his fingers and say again, Hey! Harry –
