“No, I’m just surprised. It’s so out of the blue. . Wow, it’s like on TV, I mean, you really show your badge and everything. . Oh, sorry. Uh. . What is it? I was sleeping,” I said, smiling as I looked at the man.
“Oh,” he said, “it’s nothing really.” But I didn’t believe him. In my head, I said to myself over and over, You really don’t know anything, the police have nothing to do with you.
“Well, the other day, a stray cat — ah, it’s a terrible story — it was found dead and covered in blood, you see. In the park over there. The park is pretty close to where you live. To think there’s someone out there who did this really awful thing — it’s just that I have a cat myself — well, that’s not really the point, no, no, I’m getting away from the story. Now, the thing is, I’m going around the neighborhood, calling on people like this, to see whether you might know something about it. That. . incident. . do you know anything?” He smiled again as he looked at me.
I managed to listen calmly to his story. I was a little surprised by my own behavior, but at the same time, I felt like I would be able to make it through this. However, I would have to be sure to choose my words prudently. Trying to avoid looking at the man, I nodded several times.
“Wow, that’s terrible, but why are the police investigating something like this? Ah, I mean, please excuse me for asking, I mean, sorry, I don’t know anything. But I’d like to help.”
“Oh, well, that’s not what I’m investigating,” the man said with a curt laugh. “The problem is, we retrieved a bullet from the cat’s body. It’s a shell — the real thing, 357-caliber magnum. That’s powerful. What’s more, it’s not the kind of gun that’s widely available in Japan. Really, it’s quite rare. Which means that, whoever did this to the cat must have the gun, right? This is a serious incident. And in such a quiet residential neighborhood. What do you think? Now it’s not so unusual that the police are involved, is it?”
“I see, that’s horrible. I hope you catch the person soon.”
Conscious of maintaining an expression of mild surprise, I looked the man in the face. Anyone in Japan would likely be a little shocked when they heard the word “gun.” He was studying my face seriously; I could tell that he was trying to read even the slightest shift that registered there. He hastily flashed a smile, as if noticing his own behavior, but the whole thing seemed like an act to me. I had the feeling this guy was convinced of my involvement, and for a moment I was seized with fear, but I knew that I could still keep my cool. So, with feigned detachment but full attention, I waited for what he would say next.
“Do you have a white jacket?”
“What do you mean?”
“A white jacket, you see. A white jacket, about hip length. Do you have one?”
“I do but. .” As I said this, I felt a dull thud in my heart.
“We have someone who heard something that sounded like gunshots that night. Using that date, we could determine when the cat died. And on that day, we have someone who saw a young man wearing a white jacket running near there. The guy who witnessed this works as a clerk in a convenience store. No one wears a jacket like that to go jogging. And, he said that there was something strange about the young man. He said he seemed, you know, very happy. The clerk knew who you were. He said you come into the store often. It would seem that. . that might have been you.”
“But, how did he know my address. .?”
“The parcel delivery service. The same clerk works the convenience store’s parcel delivery service. The sender’s address is clearly specified. The store keeps a duplicate copy on file, in case something goes wrong with the delivery. You used it once to try to send your parents a picture frame. Such a good son, was it for their anniversary or something? But because of the store’s error, it got broken. But you — and I was a little surprised when I heard this — he said you didn’t get angry. On the contrary, you never even looked upset. You never even claimed the amount of the damages — nothing. The clerk who is the eyewitness, he is the person who dropped it. He remembered what happened very clearly. And yet, to this day, you still come in to buy things at the store that was at fault. The clerk knows you. He knows your face, and he also knows the clothes that you usually wear.”
This time, the man wore a different smile than before. It was difficult to keep my cool. But I knew this still wasn’t enough to connect me with the gun.
“When was this? The day the cat was shot. There was definitely a time recently when I was running through the neighborhood. I needed to get back to my apartment right away.”
“Really? What for?”
“Do I really need to say?”
“Yes, for reference.”
I thought a moment, then said, “A girl was waiting for me in my apartment. She was making dinner, but I was running late, so I needed to get home quickly,” I went on. But the man seemed uninterested in my story. His attitude surprised me, since he had been the one to ask me why I had been running.
“Ah, I see,” he said. “Well, then. That doesn’t really concern me. Not at all. There’s just one thing, perhaps you can tell me. I just can’t seem to get it off my mind. At the time, why were you running with your right hand in your pocket? Hardly anyone runs with their hands in their pockets, do they? And why were you so happy? That’s what the store clerk said. That you seemed extremely happy. Happy, and yet, sweating profusely.”
The man fell silent, and I realized that it was now my turn to speak.
“That’s no big deal, is it? I don’t really remember, but if I happened to think about something funny, that’s probably why I was laughing, and I always sweat when I run. I can’t really say. As for my hand being in my pocket, I don’t really remember that either, but there was probably something inside it — like my cell phone — that I didn’t want to fall out. I don’t know.”
The man took out a cigarette and lit it while I was saying this. I could tell that he intended for this conversation to go on for a while, so I said, “I’m busy right now.”
But he ignored me. As if to himself, he said, “Hmm, that’s interesting.” Then he said to me, “Look, uh, why talk about this here? Your neighbors can see us, right? Why don’t you let me inside for a minute — sorry, but it’s getting a little cold.”
“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. It’s a mess, and I’m really not comfortable letting a complete stranger into my apartment. I don’t think that’s so unusual.”
“I’m a detective. I’m not going to steal anything.”
“No, it’s not that I suspect you would, but I simply prefer not to. And, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, it’s a pretty vague excuse for trying to invite yourself into my apartment. I think for most people, it’s normal not to want to be involved with the police, isn’t it? Would you please leave now? I’m starting to get angry.”
“Hey, take it easy, just another minute — please listen to what else I have to say,” he said, taking a drag on his cigarette. “In normal situations, at this point I usually just leave. When the person gets annoyed, it makes things difficult. But this time, I can’t do that. Because a gun is involved, there’s no time to lose. This can’t wait until tomorrow. In just one day, something terrible can happen. That’s the truth. I’ve seen these cases too many times. I don’t want to regret this later. You know about the Arakawa River incident, right?”
“What?”
“I’m talking about the man who was found murdered by the Arakawa River. You’re familiar with it, aren’t you?”
I could feel the man’s eyes on me as I tried to contain my growing nervousness. So I gazed back at him, first with a look as if I were trying to recall something, then with an expression conveying puzzlement at what he was saying.