Natsuki had tears in her eyes. Sniffling, she had picked up her book pack, saying, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice, and then she had run out the front door.
Keiko followed her to apologize, but by the time she made it to the door, her daughter had gone. Her headache grew worse. She staggered back to the chair and closed her eyes to rest just a bit.
She looked at the clock. It was already past two p.m. On the table was the morning paper she had grabbed from Natsuki. Rubbing her eyes again, she opened it up first to the city page, as was her custom.
The next instant, Keiko was struck motionless. Opening her eyes wide, she read through the article twice. Then she jumped up from the table, knocking over her chair to grab the telephone.
“Yes, this is Number Seven Elementary School.” The voice at the other end seemed to be overly slow.
“Please let me speak to Natsuki, Hazumi Natsuki, Grade Six, Class Two. This is her mother. It’s an emergency!”
“Please wait.”
While the school staffer went to call Natsuki to the telephone, Keiko scanned the article once more.
“Policeman Turns Himself In on Burglary Case.” She hadn’t misread it. The headline was clear. “In the burglary case of the night of December 2, when cash was stolen from a private house in the district west of Kinesaka City station, a police officer of the Kinesaka precinct has turned himself in, admitting to the crime. After an interrogation, which occurred on the evening of December 8, police determined that the suspect did commit the burglary and arrested the officer.”
The actual perpetrator had been a police officer! “But there’d be some trouble if they arrest the suspect, so the detectives are in a quandary.” That was what Yokozaki had meant in the visiting room.
More than that, what bothered Keiko was the ending to the article. “With this development, the unemployed man, 40, who had been arrested and detained as a suspect in this case was released from the Kinesaka police station.”
Yokozaki was already out. It hadn’t been a bluff. His words had been the truth.
“Hello. Natsuki has already gone home. We didn’t have fifth period today.”
Keiko hung up without listening for more and, grabbing her coat, ran out the door. She sped to the station on her bicycle, clenching her teeth. Flinging her bicycle down at the entrance to the concourse, she ran toward the cardboard shelters.
Yokozaki might be following Natsuki. She couldn’t help feeling that he was. If so, it would be futile to go to his shelter. But she could think of nothing else she could do. She wasn’t in any condition to worry about what others might think. She opened the door of the closest shelter. Someone was lying under the blanket in the dim, dark box.
Who was it? Had another homeless person moved in?
Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the dark, and she couldn’t see who it was. She shifted her body to the side to let in more light. She stared at the man’s face. She was able to confirm the scar beneath his right eye. She drew back for a second as her expectation had missed its mark. Then she leaned into the shelter and pressed Yokozaki.
“You...” If you touch my daughter I’ll make sure you never get out of prison. She had expected to say something like that, but due to her confusion and her excitement, the next words didn’t follow.
She thought Yokozaki laughed. Keiko glared at him.
He said, “So that’s it, after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were thinking about it, weren’t you? Revenge, or ‘paying my respects.’” Yokozaki looked away. “I wouldn’t do that. I don’t want to go to prison again. Even if I’m homeless, it’s better outside bars than behind them.”
“Then,” Keiko pulled her face away, “why did you come to this station?”
“Because it’s just right for someone with no place to live. No other reason.”
“What about that visit? Wasn’t that to threaten me?”
“No, it wasn’t. Did you read this morning’s paper?”
Keiko nodded.
“Then you must have seen the burglar’s name and face.”
She shook her head. The article had merely said “a police officer” and there was no photograph.
“You haven’t? I guess it’s not easy for reporters to get information, is it? It probably didn’t make it into the early edition.” So saying, Yokozaki twisted his body to reach for the paper. “I found a late edition that was thrown out in the station trash bin. I’ll give it to you. Look at it carefully.”
Yokozaki handed her the folded newspaper. Keiko drew in a sharp breath when she saw the photograph of the burglar’s face. That was when she understood everything.
“Yokozaki... you saw this face that night.”
Being in the neighborhood, he had witnessed the burglar running away from Fusano’s house.
“Yeah, I was surprised.”
Of course he was. When he was arrested and taken to the lockup, he had seen the perpetrator there. No wonder he had been surprised. No, he wouldn’t have been sure at that stage that the man in this photo was the burglar. He couldn’t have seen the man’s face clearly in the dark. That was why he came up with the scheme to ask for a visit. Yokozaki had bet that if the man he had seen was the perpetrator, he would turn himself in.
“I’m sorry I suspected you...”
“No, I was using you as well. I don’t have anyone I can call an acquaintance anymore. I couldn’t think of anyone but you who could come to visit me.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“I’ll start over. I’ll find a job.”
“That’s good...”
Keiko left the cardboard shelter. A perpetual criminal. That was how she had pegged Yokozaki. She had concluded that he was a cold-blooded criminal. But, perhaps it had been a mistake to judge everything about him from the stalker incident.
After she returned home, she looked once more at the newspaper Yokozaki had given her. There was the real burglar — even in the grainy photograph Officer Saito’s face looked handsome.
Her meeting with Yokozaki in the visiting room was Yokozaki’s way to have Saito overhear the conversation. Yokozaki had insistently waited to speak, hoping that Saito would come into the room as guard. He used the opportunity to give false information that the real perpetrator had been found and that the evidence against him had been secretly investigated. If Itami hadn’t left and called Saito in, Yokozaki would no doubt have asked for another visit and tried for another chance.
8.
Awhile later, Natsuki returned home. As she put down her book pack, Keiko stretched out her hand to her daughter’s forehead and traced her fingers along the spot where she had thrown the wad of paper that morning.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s okay. Does your head still hurt?”
“Just a little.”
“What time are we going to Grandpa’s house?”
Keiko shook her head. “We don’t have to go.”
“Shucks, I was looking forward to it.” Natsuki left the living room and went into the kitchen. “You should lie down. I’ll wake you up when supper’s ready.”
Keiko nodded and sat down on the sofa. She pulled a blanket over her and lay down. It was shortly after she had closed her eyes that the doorbell rang.
“Coming,” Natsuki replied, scurrying to the entryway and opening the door. Keiko followed her movements with her ears, keeping her eyes closed.
Then she heard, “Hello, Natsuki.” It was Fusano’s voice. “Is your mother here?”
“She’s lying down, but I can wake her.”
“No, don’t do that. Wait, Natsuki, don’t. I just made this. Please eat it.”
“Wow, thanks.”