by Kōji Suzuki
Kihara nodded, with apparent satisfaction. “That project proceeded as a series of installments in a monthly magazine. As you know, Kashiwada was caught red-handed as he was taking that fifth girl around. When his house was searched, they found hair belonging to the third victim in his room, and a man who looked like Kashiwada had been spotted in the vicinity of the victim’s home. Since a number of people gave testimony, there was no doubt it was him. That’s about the clearest possible evidence you can have. Everyone was certain he was guilty. Naturally, I believed it too. But the more I searched in order to proceed with my writing, the deeper my questions became, and I just ended up getting lost. It’s easy to start writing a book. The hard part is to follow through to the end with a definite conclusion. With Beyond the Darkness, I tried to finish the book after giving the reader a unified viewpoint that summed up the whole case, but when I reached the final chapter I was left with an even deeper mystery.”
When Kihara went for a sip of the coffee he’d made, Takanori got in a word. “At the time of the incident, I was in high school. I only knew bits and pieces about the case, but now that I’ve read your book and searched around online, I think I’ve gotten the picture. What’s available to the average person, like me, doesn’t seem to be all that complicated. What we believed was that a homicidal fiend named Kashiwada abducted several young girls and took them from place to place before gratifying his perverted sexual cravings and killing them. It was obviously the most despicable, cold-blooded case of murder for pleasure in Japanese criminal history. Mr. Kihara, what do you find so mysterious about it?”
“Everything you just said.”
“Everything…”
“First of all, we have no idea what his motive for the crime was.”
“You’re saying he didn’t kill for pleasure?”
“There were no traces of Kashiwada’s bodily fluids, either inside the victims’ bodies or at the crime scenes.”
“The prosecution provided evidence suggesting that his bodily fluids had been found…”
“That was something they made up to make the case easier to understand. Of course, the fact that no semen was found doesn’t mean that the murders weren’t committed for pleasure. Maybe it was just absorbed by the criminal’s clothes and never spilled out. Plus, there’re lots of cases reported around the world of sexual killers who aren’t aroused by female genitalia or breasts, or who are impotent. In that regard, there’s a clear distinction between such cases and more common instances of rape.”
“So, what you’re saying,” Takanori tried to confirm, “is that Kashiwada’s case is different from any other pattern we’ve seen?”
“That’s right. Perverted sexual killers tend to mutilate the corpse. Oftentimes they’ll dismember the body, or cut open its belly, and right in the middle of the act they’ll have an orgasm and ejaculate. In this case, however, all of the victims were simply strangled to death, and there were no other signs of bodily harm.”
“But it was reported that the bodies were partly destroyed…”
“Just the fingernails. The nails of the index and middle fingers on the fourth victim’s right hand had been removed with pliers. This is only my speculation, but he might have done it to remove any trace after the girl unexpectedly fought back and scratched him. He couldn’t afford to leave any of his skin under her nails at the crime scene. If his DNA were collected, it would be definitive proof, wouldn’t it?”
“I see,” Takanori said. “Kashiwada treated his victims’ bodies a little more carefully than those other sexual killers.”
“Exactly. Not just a little more—he was too careful. His method of killing was always strangulation. He seemed to have used a soft cloth, so that it was done cleanly, with no red marks or lacerations on their necks. It’s just that all four victims had their underwear removed. I’m sure you knew that.”
“I did.”
Every piece Takanori had read stated that these were perverted sexual murders since the victims’ underwear had been removed.
“But that’s all,” Kihara said. “None of their other clothing was disturbed. Only their panties were pulled off from under their skirts. There were no injuries to their genitals, of course. Well, what do you think of all that?”
“Maybe he was satisfied just looking at them.”
“I think it was more like he observed them, like it was a routine. That’s what I got from the evidence. The criminal removed their underwear so he could inspect their genitals.”
“Does that mean it was a type of fetishism?”
“No, it was more dispassionate. It was a simple inspection, unrelated to any sexual impulse.”
“Listening to you, I find myself somehow even more confused,” Takanori said. “So…what was Kashiwada’s purpose?”
“That’s the biggest puzzle of all. What was his motive for abducting and murdering those girls?
“The prosecution tried to cover up the complexities of the case. They decided beforehand that they were absolutely going to go for the death penalty, and that’s how they proceeded. That’s why they needed to make the outline of the case as easy for people to comprehend as possible. His motive had to be to satisfy a selfish, perverted sexual urge. The fact that he remained silent was taken as proof that he didn’t feel any remorse. One interpretation that was put forward suggested that Kashiwada had a personality disorder and believed his alternate personality had committed the crimes. The personality controlling him after his arrest had no recollection of the killings, and therefore he couldn’t confess even if he wanted to.
“That’s why so many psychological tests were done on him, but with those too, the conclusion that he was legally accountable came first. If he were judged not responsible for his actions on grounds of lunacy or diminished capacity, he’d end up in a mental asylum, and not an execution chamber.
“The prosecution staked their prestige on obtaining the death penalty for a criminal who’d kidnapped and murdered several girls for his own selfish pleasure, and the mass media and the public vigorously supported this. There was practically nobody who defended Kashiwada.
“Well, his defense counsel did raise an objection to the results of the psych tests, and they did file an appeal, but with all the denunciation they faced from the public, they got bogged down and lost their steam.
“The trial went ahead, propelled by the prosecution’s arguments, and the death penalty was finally handed down. Then about a month ago, the sentence was carried out.
“But even now, it’s hard for me to swallow,” Kihara said. “What was his motive, really? All of his victims were found leaning against a tree trunk in the woods, with their legs extended neatly together, both hands placed on their knees and their heads facing slightly downward and their hair hanging in front. None of the books described how they looked when their bodies were found, of course. I saw the crime scene photos myself. Just one look gave me the impression that this had been some sort of ritual.”
“A ritual…as in a religious ritual?”
“Right. There were elements in the crime scene photos that made me think it’d been the act of some fanatical cult rather than a murder for sexual pleasure.”
“Was Kashiwada a follower of a cult?”
“He hadn’t been involved with any specific group—only a cult that his own delusions had created, where the founder and the follower were one and the same. That is, I believe there was a cult that existed only inside his head, and his crimes were committed in accordance with its doctrine.”
“I see. And because he remained silent until he was executed, the content of this doctrine was never revealed, and his motive remained unknown to the end.”
“There were some unusual common traits which strongly suggested that these crimes were rooted in this doctrine of the ‘Kashiwada cult.’ No mention of this is made in any of the books. This information was known only to a very small number of people in the media, and it was a matter of privacy for the victims’ families. Plus, t
here were human rights issues in the mix, so the press exercised self-restraint in this instance. Have you heard any kind of rumors about the victims’ families?”
“No, none.” If the media didn’t make something public, there was no way Takanori could catch wind of it.
“First of all, the victims were all nearly the same age. All four of them were born in 1991 or 1992, making them roughly twelve at the time of the incidents. Why was their age range so narrow? Perverts who’re sexually attracted only to young girls might actually be more prevalent overseas, but I’ve never come across any instance where the target age was so set. The first, third, and fourth victims’ birthdays were only one month apart. With a random attacker choosing targets indiscriminately, that’s just inconceivable.”
That made Takanori recall Akane’s birthdate. She was born in June 1992, which would have made her the youngest of all the victims, but the date was only about half a year off.
“There were other things that the victims had in common,” Kihara went on. “What I’m about to tell you is something almost nobody knows. In fact, three of the four victims had been born out of wedlock. They didn’t even know who their fathers were. Only the third victim had been born to a married couple, but a year after she was born, the parents got divorced. In other words, all four girls were raised by single mothers, and one of them was from a foster-care facility.”
Takanori gulped. Naturally, he thought of Akane. Once again, she was a perfect fit.
“One more thing,” Kihara said. “Since the papers and magazines didn’t publish pictures of the victims’ faces, this is also something nobody could know. I have some snapshots of the victims that were taken when they were still alive. Their builds and faces were very much alike.”
Takanori had never seen a picture of Akane from when she was twelve, so he had to imagine what she’d been like based on her current appearance.
“You have pictures of the victims?” he asked.
“Would you like to see them?”
“Please.”
Kihara opened a cabinet and pulled out several photographs of the young girls from a file containing all his materials on the Kashiwada case.
The four pictures lined up on the table were all taken from the bust up, and the girls strongly resembled each other. Their hairstyles were different, as were their weights, so each girl had a distinct aura about her, but their facial features looked exactly the same.
Takanori felt as if he were seeing Akane’s image among the four girls.
As he stacked the four photographs together and returned them, his expression grew serious. “By the way, I still haven’t answered the question you asked me earlier. About what my connection to the Kashiwada case is…There’s a woman I’m in love with, and I plan to marry her. She’s carrying my child. Her name is Akane Maruyama, and she was going to be his fifth victim. You know, she really does resemble these young girls.”
Kihara let out a deep sigh.
“Ah, so that’s why you contacted me. No wonder…So I wasn’t mistaken, then. You really were in a bind, weren’t you? But Kashiwada was executed. I’d say the problem has been cut off at the root.”
It was true that with the sentence carried out, the physical entity known as Kashiwada had been terminated. But that fact fell within the province of “science” as commonly understood—he might not have lost the power to exert his influence while lurking in the paranormal realm.
After all, even I died once and came back.
Takanori was about to say so aloud as a joke, but he swallowed his words and reached into his knapsack.
“Please, take a look at this.”
He pulled out his computer and turned it on. One of his reasons for coming here was to show Kihara the video of the hanging saved on the USB stick. Loath to waste time while the computer was starting up, Takanori posed another question.
“After listening to you, I can definitely see what’s mysterious about the Kashiwada case. But what’s your personal take on it, Mr. Kihara? Do you really believe Kashiwada had to be the killer?”
“The thing is, I’m not sure at this point. Would you mind looking at the photos of the victims that were taken where the bodies were abandoned?”
At the writer’s invitation, Takanori lined up the four photographs on the table as if they were tarot cards.
“Anything you notice?” Kihara asked.
“No, not really…”
Since each girl resembled Akane, just looking at the pictures made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to avert his eyes.
“When I saw these photos,” said Kihara, “I had a certain intuition. It’s sort of like an instinct I’ve developed over the years. All of the girls were in the same pose. Why? Because they were his subjects.”
“His subjects…”
“Like how people make the peace sign when they get their pictures taken. The culprit must have taken the victims’ pictures with a camera or recorded them on video.”
Takanori found himself drawn in by the photos. Now that Kihara mentioned it, all of the girls indeed were in a fixed pose, turned into perfect subjects.
“Yes, you’re right about that.”
“And yet…no matter how much they searched Kashiwada’s house, they couldn’t find a single video or photo of the victims.”
That wasn’t necessarily proof that Kashiwada hadn’t been the killer. The very presumption that he must have photographed or filmed the victims was nothing more than speculation.
As they talked, the background image appeared on the computer screen.
First, Takanori showed Kihara the original video saved on the USB stick.
The man appeared, moving about the studio apartment with a video camera in hand.
He set the camera on top of the desk and connected it to the computer. Up to that point his face was not shown, meaning they couldn’t tell if it was Kashiwada. The man turned his back to the camera and moved away from the computer, placed one foot on the chair in the middle of the room, stood up, put the rope around his neck, turned around, and kicked out the chair. His body fell vertically across the screen and through the floor and momentarily disappeared, only to fall again from the ceiling, coming to a stop with his face out of view. His hands and feet convulsed, his crotch grew wet, and his vital reactions gradually ceased.
Although Takanori had seen the video repeatedly, every time he watched it, he got goose bumps.
“It looks exactly like an execution scene,” Kihara voiced his initial impression just as the body began to rotate with the rope around its neck.
“I thought so too,” Takanori said.
“An execution chamber is a dual structure with a first floor and a sublevel, and the way it works is that when the prison guard pushes a button, it sends electricity to the floor plate. That opens it, and the condemned person’s body falls down into the execution sub-chamber. But the room in this video isn’t an execution chamber, obviously. Where was this?”
“Room 303 at the Shinagawa View Heights, in Aomono-Yokocho. The person living there is named Hiroyuki Niimura.”
Looking surprised, Kihara turned toward Takanori.
“How do you know that?”
“I managed to piece it together.”
“That’s some detective work,” Kihara praised.
“No, I just happened to figure it out. But the one I really want you to check out is this one.”
Takanori closed the original video on the USB stick and proceeded to call up the version he’d saved on his hard drive. This was the copy where some unnatural phenomenon was at work, and the hanged man—who appeared to be Kashiwada—moved downwards as time passed. It was always the same room, No. 303, Shinagawa View Heights. It was only the body that kept on changing.
When Takanori last saw it, the blindfold had come off and revealed the man to be Kashiwada. He’d been swinging in the middle of the frame with his eyes rolled back.
But now, as Takanori and Kihara watched the video together, every last t
race of a human presence had disappeared. The room appeared exactly the same, but without the raw presence given off by the body, the video felt completely different.
The subject in the original video on the USB stick was Kashiwada, and his every last movement had commanded the viewer’s attention. But in the video Takanori saw now, the subject was nowhere to be found. There was only the rope hanging from the ceiling, swinging slightly from the recoil.
He’s just gone.
Only the bottom part of the rope, blackened by sweat and a small amount of blood, hinted that a dead body had been there.
The rope’s job had been to tightly constrict Kashiwada’s neck and to hold his body up in the air. Yet, like an escape artist, Kashiwada had pulled his neck out of the loop and vanished.
Positioned in the center of the screen, the ring of the rope was rotating slowly as if to provoke and mock the viewer.
Kihara, who hadn’t beheld the ongoing change, remained calm, but Takanori was simply dumbstruck, and his breathing grew more and more panicked.
The fucking guy got away, he cursed, uncharacteristically. Where the hell did he go?
The hanged man’s whereabouts worried Takanori. There was no way the guy could have come back to life. But if he had, where might he be headed?
3
It was only about ten seconds or so, judging by the second hand of the clock. Yet as Takanori stared and waited, time seemed to stretch forever.
Even if a person’s heart stopped beating, if proper treatment could be administered within eight minutes or so, it was possible for the patient to be resuscitated. A few cases had been reported around the world where dead people had come back to life. But in Takanori’s case, the span had been two years. It was beyond anything that medical science could explain.
With his left hand on his chin, Mitsuo Ando was looking down at the family register, lost in thought, as Takanori watched him and wondered how he was going to explain this as a doctor and a father. Placed atop his desk in the director’s office, the register arrested Mitsuo’s movement like the muzzle of a gun that was pointed at him.
