Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Hidden Helper

Michio's father was named Nishina Takeo and was an Army Major.
However, Major Nishina rarely wore the military uniform.
This was because the Major was assigned to a special mission.
This special mission involved monitoring and guarding against formidable secret agents who had infiltrated from foreign nations, waiting for any opportunity to steal the Japanese Empire's military secrets.
Against these fearsome enemies, beginning with Major Nishina, many people kept constant watch day and night without respite; however, as the opponents were also exerting themselves to the utmost, regrettably there were times when secret documents were stolen.
Whenever such lamentable incidents occurred, Major Nishina would exhaust every method to unfailingly recover the documents stolen by the enemy and saved our nation from crisis.
Yet for Major Nishina to succeed in such difficult and dangerous tasks by a hair's breadth, there was always a hidden helper.
Who was this person who assisted Major Nishina, battled enemy spies and agents, and always secured final victory?
If you read the next story, I believe all of you will come to understand.

Grave Orders

On a certain day in late December during the Shōwa era, Major Nishina was summoned to the secret conference room of the General Staff Headquarters.
In the secret room, the Chief of General Staff along with department heads, section chiefs, and other high-ranking officials were arrayed in rows.
And as if they had all agreed upon it, each wore a grave expression with deep furrows etched into their brows.
An indescribably oppressive air filled the entire room.

Major Nishina first rendered a motionless standing salute to the Chief of General Staff, then proceeded to salute each of his other superior officers in turn.

The Chief of General Staff, with a face that was solemnity itself, stared fixedly at the Major and spoke gravely.

"I hereby issue you a critical order."
"The success or failure of this matter hinges on the Empire's safety."
"Major Nishina desires to overcome all difficulties and risk life and limb to accomplish his mission for His Majesty the Emperor and the Japanese Empire."

"Sir!"

Major Nishina answered, his body stiffening at the Chief of General Staff's unusually solemn demeanor.

"The Imperial Army's most important secret documents have fallen into the hands of X-country spies."
"You are to swiftly recover those documents."
"This is my order."
"Furthermore, the detailed circumstances will be explained by the Information Section Chief."

“Sir!”

Major Nishina bowed respectfully.
The Chief of General Staff relaxed, his expression softening somewhat as he,

“Major Nishina, this is truly a difficult and dangerous mission.”
“An order is an order, but I ask you this as one individual to another.”
“No one but you can accomplish this mission.”
“Do this right—I’m counting on you.”

At the Chief of General Staff’s words filled with heartfelt trust, Major Nishina’s body grew increasingly rigid.

Colonel Taniyama, Chief of the Information Section—following the Chief of General Staff’s remarks—explained that they must recover the documents within three days regardless of circumstances and detailed their physical format and contents before adding:

“The one who had the documents stolen and now actually possesses them is clearly that Willard Simson residing in Kōjimachi Rokubanchō.”

“What?! Simson!”
“That guy?!”

Major Nishina shouted.
Willard Simson—he was indeed the shrewd operator who had long been suspected of being a military intelligence agent for a certain country.

The Major thought inwardly, 'This is a formidable foe—but if I stake my very life on this struggle, can there be anything beyond achievement?'

You must be wondering why they neither arrest enemy spies nor deport them back to their home countries, choosing instead to leave them undisturbed.
This is a perfectly reasonable question, but even with ample suspicion of espionage, without definitive evidence, no action can be taken.
Moreover, as those targeted are foreign nationals, any rash move would immediately invite accusations and create troublesome international complications.

But you might ask—if it's certain that this man Simson stole the secret documents, why not arrest him during a house search?

That was indeed a reasonable question.
But everyone, please consider:
Would someone base enough to serve as a spy—moreover, a shrewd operator like Simson who couldn't be handled through ordinary means—keep stolen documents on his person?
If they restrained him or searched his house and found nothing, what do you suppose Simson would say?
In that case, they'd have no choice but to suffer whatever backlash came their way.

In other words, the problem lay in where the stolen secret documents were hidden.
Even if they restrained and searched Simson, there was no reason to expect it would be straightforward.
Major Nishina’s mission consisted not in binding Simson, but in discovering the documents’ location and recovering them at once.

“Simson has undoubtedly concealed the documents in some secure location,”
Colonel Taniyama said.
“He must believe we’ll come to retrieve them and is biding his time to observe developments.
But if we delay, he’ll extract them from hiding and dispatch them to his homeland.
That would prove catastrophic.
Therefore we must locate the hiding place with all haste and reclaim them.”

“Understood.”
“I swear to recover them swiftly.”

Major Nishina displayed resolve and declared firmly.
Colonel Taniyama nodded with satisfaction,

“I pray you succeed.”
“No—I am certain you will prevail.”
“But take heed.”
“Simson is no ordinary adversary.”
“His residence is fully equipped with electric anti-theft devices—the slightest touch will trigger alarms throughout the house. You must exercise extreme caution.”

“Thank you for your warning.”
“Then, Your Excellency, Nishina will recover the important documents and return.”

The Major saluted all the superiors from the Chief of General Staff down and exited the room briskly.

Cat and Mouse

The night had deepened profoundly, and the area around Willard Simson’s residence in Kōjimachi Rokubanchō lay in complete silence, as though in the depths of mountains. The occasional whistling of the wintry wind through the treetops only intensified the surrounding hush. Though one might think no one would pass through such a place at this late hour and in this biting cold, there was indeed a figure clacking along the pavement.

Upon arriving in front of Simson’s house, he stopped and spent some time observing the surroundings. The man illuminated by the gate's light had his coat collar turned up and his hat pulled low over his brows—there was no mistaking it. This was Nishina Takeo.

Major Nishina vaulted nimbly over the iron fence and leaped into Simson's estate.
The so-called iron fence—stretched between waist-high brick pillars at matching height—posed no great challenge to clear.
However, breaching the heavily guarded mansion was no simple matter.
What scheme did Major Nishina harbor?

Major Nishina strode resolutely toward the imposing Western-style mansion.
Then—ah, such audacity!
With the thick cane in his grip, he slammed it forcefully against the tightly closed shutters covering the window.

The shutters broke with a splintering crack.
The Major thrust his cane into the broken section and, using it as a lever, finally prized the shutters open.
Next, he smashed the window glass.
Ah—the sounds of breaking shutters and glass aside—the electric alarm must have been blaring near Simson's room all along.
Had Major Nishina forgotten the earnest warnings he had received from Colonel Taniyama?
If he hadn't forgotten—what boldness! No—rather—wasn't this sheer recklessness?

Major Nishina smashed through the window glass, thrust his hand through the broken pane, and forced the window open.
He then nimbly vaulted through the opening into the house.
The interior lay in absolute darkness.

The Major opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
The hallway was also pitch-dark.
The Major advanced cautiously on tiptoe.
Then，suddenly，a flashlight was shone at him from the side.
And at that very moment，something hard struck him in the side.
The Major gasped in surprise and raised both hands.
The pistol’s muzzle was pressed against his ribs.
Ah，the Major had finally been captured by the enemy.

“Ha ha ha ha! Well, well—look who decided to show up.”
“I will be your guide.”
“Now, do walk along.”

The one who had sneered was Simson.
As befitted a spy, his accent carried slight peculiarities, yet his Japanese remained skillful.

With the pistol pressed against him and hands still raised, Major Nishina was prodded forward.

Before long, the Major found himself forced into what seemed to be Simson's living room.
Simson rifled through the Major's pockets and confiscated the pistol he carried.

“Well now, do have a seat.”

Simson pointed to the chair in front.
Major Nishina made a regretful face but took a seat on the chair as instructed.

Simson plopped down heavily into the armchair before the Major.
Then he kept his pistol trained unwaveringly

“You’re a soldier.”
“What are you here for?”

“――――”

The Major clenched his teeth and did not answer.

“Even if you don’t answer, I know.”
“You came to steal the secret documents, didn’t you?”

“――――”

“You look rather resentful, don’t you? But your methods are reckless. My residence has an electric alarm system installed. Breaking in to steal would be quite impossible. Yet you truly live up to being a Japanese soldier—how brave of you to come here alone...”

“Shut up,” the Major said irritably. “I’ve failed. I have nothing to say and nothing to hear. Hurry up and do as you will.”

“Hahaha! Japanese soldier! You’re not just brave—you’re quite the sore loser. Hahaha!”

Simson spoke as if a cat toying with a captured mouse.

“I won’t kill you. If I kill you, it’ll interfere with my later work. But I can’t let you escape. You’ll stay in this house for two or three days—cramped though it may be. In two or three days, the stolen documents will be safely passed to my associates. My associates will take them to their country. Hahaha!”

As he said this, Simson pressed the call bell on the desk.
Before long, the person who knocked and entered was a tall foreigner with a ferocious-looking visage.

“Thornton.
“Escort our guest to the basement.”

Simson gave the command in a foreign language.
The subordinate named Thornton silently nodded, took out a large pistol from his pocket, and pointed it at Major Nishina while,

“This way,” he said in broken Japanese.

The Major stood up unflinchingly, with an air of having resolved himself.
And then, as he was escorted by Thornton and approached the room’s entrance, Simson—for whatever reason—suddenly called out to stop him.

“Soldier, wait a moment.”
“It would be such a shame for you to come all this way only to be taken straight to the basement.”
“A token of my gratitude for your having come here.”
“I’ll tell you where the secret documents are.”
“Your country’s most vital documents have been placed on hold mail at Kōjimachi Post Office.”
“You’ve got quite the souvenir story there.”
“Won’t you thank me?”

Major Nishina must have bitten his lip.
Ah, what a despicable villain!
Knowing the Major was a trapped rat who couldn’t escape no matter what, Simson deliberately stated the location of the secret documents with venomous tone to toy with him.

“Thank you.”
“Mr. Simson.”
The Major’s eyes burned with anger yet his words were gentle as he spoke.
“Now that I’ve heard that, I can go to the basement cell with peace of mind.”
“The time will surely come when you regret having blurted that out.”

“Regret?”
“Ahahaha! That’s just your sore loser’s complaint.”
“You—who could you possibly tell about that?”
“Hahahaha!”
“I’ll never regret this!”

Thornton, seemingly not fully understanding the conversation between the two, pressed his pistol against the Major as soon as Simson finished speaking and forcefully pushed him out of the room.

A dreadful trap

Simson, who had been watching Thornton take Major Nishina to the underground cell, suddenly jolted as if remembering something. He left the room and went to the window Major Nishina had shattered through. After glancing around nervously, he sighed in relief and muttered in his native tongue: “As I thought—just that man alone. No one else seems to have come.”

With a clatter, he forced the broken shutters closed. He returned to the room and settled into the armchair, picking up the cigar from the desk to leisurely smoke it—yet somehow felt unsettled. The stolen documents were safely hidden, and the bold intruder now imprisoned in the basement cell. There should be nothing left to worry about. Still, an odd unease gripped him, as though something were about to happen.

Simson’s eyes darted around the room—then he cried out and paled. In the corner stood a boy aiming a pistol steadily at him.

“Hands up!”

The boy shouted.
Simson reluctantly raised both hands high.
The boy approached Simson and took the pistol from his pocket.

“You fell right into Father’s scheme.”
“Father deliberately made sure to be noticed when he broke the window and came in here.”
“While you were all distracted by Father, I slipped in quietly from behind.”
“You only realized it now and went to check the broken window, but it’s already too late.”
“Now, release Father!”

“Are you the child of the man who came earlier?”
“I see. Now that you mention it, he does resemble you.”

Simson said while raising both hands high. He thought that by keeping up his chatter, if the boy showed even the slightest moment of carelessness, he would pounce and seize the pistol. However, the boy did not fall for that trick.

“That’s right. I am Major Nishina’s son—Michio. Enough stalling—release Father now! If you don’t do as I say, I’ll shoot!”

“Hahaha! Just as one would expect from the Japanese—even a child shows remarkable bravery. That you’re trying to rescue your father is admirable. Ahahaha!”

“Wh-what are you laughing at?”
The boy tightly raised his eyebrows.
“Fine then! Then I’ll shoot you dead and rescue Father!”

Michio was just about to fiercely pull the pistol trigger.
Simson shouted in a panic.

“W-wait! Y-you mustn’t do something so violent! If you kill me, you won’t be able to rescue your father or recover the secret documents!”

“Wha—?!”

Struck in his weak point, even Michio flinched and slackened his finger on the trigger. Seizing this moment, Simson abruptly stepped forward and grabbed the button on the desk.

“Don’t shoot!” Simson hurriedly shouted. “Shoot me and I’ll press this button! Pressing this means your father’s done for!”

“Wh—?! What did you say?!”

“This button activates an electric mechanism—water comes roaring into the basement! That reinforced concrete box will flood completely in an instant! Not a single window down there! Your father will drown like a rat!”

“Wh—?!”

Michio's face instantly paled.
The hand holding his pistol began to tremble violently.

“Heh.”
Simson sneered mockingly with an air of triumph.
“How’s that? You’ve realized it’s futile to try opposing me now, haven’t you? Now, hand over that pistol here. If you don’t hand it over, I’ll press this button.”

“It’s a lie. It’s a lie!”
Michio shouted desperately.
“Th-that’s just your nonsense, you bastard! I won’t fall for your cheap threats!”

“Nonsense? Very well. If you insist on calling it nonsense, I’ll show you whether it’s nonsense or not.”

Simson pressed the button on the desk.

“Now then, listen carefully,” Simson said mockingly. “You’ll hear water flowing into the basement.”

Michio strained his ears. From somewhere in the house came a gushing torrent of water. The sound clearly filtered through from below—unmistakably rising from the basement. Amidst the fierce rushing noise echoed anguished cries—“Ugh... ugh...”—like stifled screams.

“St-stop it!” Michio shouted through clenched, bloodless lips. “Stop the water!”
“Hurry! Stop it!”

“Bwahahaha!”
Simson laughed hatefully.
“Have you finally realized it’s true?”
“But there’s no need to panic.”
“It takes about two hours for the basement to fill completely with water.”
“From feet to shins, shins to knees, knees to stomach—though gradually being submerged might feel rather unpleasant—as long as the water hasn’t yet reached the ceiling, he can still breathe and won’t die.”
“Until then, I think I’ll have a nice long talk with you.”
“First of all, kindly place the pistol you’re holding on the desk.”

Michio glared at Simson with eyes burning with hatred.
However, there was nothing he could do.
With a look of disappointment, he placed the pistol on the desk.

Simson hurriedly pulled the pistol the boy had placed toward himself.

“Dangerous, dangerous. For a child to play with something like this is extremely dangerous. First, this brings some relief.”

“Please stop the water now!”

“There’s no need to rush—it takes a full two hours for the basement to fill completely. By now, it’s probably reached ankle level. Your father must be utterly without hope, shivering away by now. But there’s no need to rush.”

“You villain! You murderer! You spy!”

Michio’s face turned ashen like soil as he hurled abuse.

“Ha ha ha ha! The spy part is true.”
“But I am neither a murderer nor a villain.”
“It’s simply that you two—father and son—tried to ensnare me with your spy schemes. That’s why you’ve ended up in this situation.”
“Now then—let me confirm—it was just you two who came here, right?”

“Yes.”

Michio nodded meekly with an air of resignation that left no alternative but to obey his opponent.

“Well then, I’ll have you stay in the same room as your father for three days.”

Simson pressed the call bell button on the desk as he said this.
However, for some reason, Thornton wouldn't come out, so Simson, growing impatient, pressed the button again and again.

Though his face remained pale, Michio chuckled.

“I cut the call bell wires, so it won’t ring.”
“Wh-what did you say?”
“Cutting the wires is outrageous!”

“I should have cut the wires controlling the basement’s water mechanism while I was at it.”
“I simply didn’t notice them in time—what a pity.”

“Don’t spout nonsense!”
“The basement wires are expertly concealed—someone of your caliber would never detect them.”
“If Thornton won’t come, there’s no alternative.”
“I’ll escort you myself.”
“Up! On your feet—to the basement!”

“What do you intend by taking me to the basement?”
“Are you planning to drown and kill me alongside Father?”

“There will be no killing.”
“I’ll stop the water soon.”
“I dislike killing people.”
“But since you two keep interfering with me, I’ll have to confine you in the basement cell for a couple of days.”
“Because within a couple of days, the secret documents should be safely sent out from my associates’ hands to our home country.”

“If that’s your goal, then locking us in the basement serves no purpose.”

The boy Michio declared firmly.
Simson stared suspiciously at the boy's face as if trying to bore holes through it,
“What do you mean by that?”

“The documents should have already been recovered by now.”
“Earlier, you told Father they were being held at Kōjimachi Post Office as hold mail.”
“Since I heard that outside the room when you went to check the window, I entered here and reported it using that desk telephone.”

At Michio’s unexpected words, one might have expected Simson to turn pallid and reel back in shock—yet instead, he erupted into a rasping, derisive laugh.

“Ahahaha! Hahaha!”

Telephone Gambit

“What are you laughing at?”

Michio watched Simson’s face—which had suddenly burst into laughter—with exasperation as he reproached him.

“Hahahaha!”
Simson continued laughing,

“Do you think I was telling the truth earlier?”
“That business about them being held at Kōjimachi Post Office as hold mail—complete nonsense.”
“Hahahaha!”
“Pity you took that seriously.”

“Oh...”
Michio said dejectedly.
“So it was all a lie?”

“Hahahaha! You’ve lost your nerve, haven’t you?”
Simson taunted, “Well then, shall I tell you—and only you—the real truth?”
“Earlier, I didn’t know you were listening. Had I told the truth then, it would’ve been disastrous.”
“But now that I’ve searched the house and secured the broken window, there’s certainly no one eavesdropping.”
“In recognition of your bravery and filial devotion—remarkable for a boy—I’ll tell you.”
“The secret documents are, my dear boy, safely stored at the Metropolitan Police Department.”

“At the Metropolitan Police Department?”
“Th-that’s... such a ridiculous thing!”

“Hahaha! If I told you they’re stored at the Metropolitan Police Department, you’d think it’s an unbelievable absurdity.”
“But that is the undeniable truth.”
“When my subordinate stole the secret documents, he thought that if he brought them straight to me, there was a risk they’d be reclaimed. So he deliberately left them in a double-bottomed suitcase inside a taxi.”
“Of course, the driver delivered it to the Metropolitan Police Department without knowing anything.”
“So, the secret documents you’ve been scrambling to find are now safely stored in the lost and found section of the Metropolitan Police Department.”
“As a suitcase containing boring product samples.”
“Within a couple of days, my subordinate is supposed to retrieve them.”
“How’s that for my ingenuity?”
“That the documents the police and military police have been desperately searching for would be safely stored at none other than their sacred Metropolitan Police Department—not to put too fine a point on it, but not even Buddha himself could have foreseen this!”
“Hahahaha!”

Perhaps looking down on his adversary as a cornered rat—and moreover, a mere child—Simson proudly laid out his scheme.
What diabolical cunning.
To brazenly keep stolen items at the Metropolitan Police Department—what fiendish cleverness!
The boy Michio had successfully learned Simson’s secret.
However, he would soon be taken to the basement.
Even after going through all that trouble to extract the information—what good would it do?

Simson, as if suddenly remembering,

“It seems I’ve talked too much.”
“The basement water must have reached about waist level by now.”
“Now then, I must put you in and stop the water.”

Just as Simson said this, the desk telephone emitted a faint, strange noise—a staccato clicking intertwined with static.
The boy Michio’s face suddenly flushed; he placed his hand on the receiver and tried to pick it up.

“Hey! Don’t touch that!”

Simson barked in a loud voice and hurriedly grabbed the receiver himself.

“Hmm.”

Simson, who had pressed the receiver to his ear, suddenly turned deathly pale and dropped the receiver with a clatter.
Then, while glaring at the boy Michio’s face, he tried to reach for the pistol on the desk.
Then, suddenly from behind,

“Simson, don’t move,” came a voice.

Simson whirled around—and there stood Major Nishina, completely unexpectedly, standing calmly with his pistol muzzle trained on him.

“Ah!”

Simson cried out in bitter frustration, his lips quivering.

The boy Michio suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Simson, you fool! This desk telephone might look normal, but when you went to the window earlier, I slipped a wooden wedge into the receiver cradle. That kept the hook switch raised up—exactly like taking the receiver off. The proof? When the call came through just now, instead of ringing properly, there was static hissing and clicking. Know what happens with the receiver off? Every word in this room goes straight to the telephone exchange! And that exchange can connect calls anywhere they want. You bragged about hiding documents at police headquarters like it was clever—never noticed this phone was connected there! Your whole confession went right through! I knew your first hiding spot was fake—had to trick you into spilling the real one! Father’s not in any basement cell! When Thornton was taking him away, I ambushed them—pressed my pistol to Thornton’s ribs, freed Father, and stuffed Thornton in that basement instead! Those screams from the flooding water? That was your precious Thornton! I followed Father’s orders perfectly! Our capture was all part of the plan! If your blabbering had been true about the hiding place, we’d have gotten a signal call from headquarters immediately! Should’ve just let you ramble until that signal came... Want to know what they said on that police call? ‘The documents were exactly where you said they’d be!’ Hahahaha!”

As he listened to Michio’s words, Simson—who had steadily grown paler—let out a groan of “Hmm…” and collapsed heavily onto the floor.