Pathway to Japanese Literature

Detective Aspirations

The moment Tohari Yasuo realized his visitor was Detective Ushimura, he started and involuntarily let slip the newspaper he had been holding.
Because a sinister premonition had paralyzed his hand.
The detective swiftly bent down, picked up the newspaper Yasuo had dropped, and

“Ah, so you were reading about last night’s murder case after all?”
“In truth, my visit concerns this very matter.”

Yasuo started again, his complexion changing.
Yet he strained to maintain a composed facade,

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

forcing an expression of bewilderment.

The detective fixed his gaze intently on those eyes,

"As reported in the newspaper, the victim was Mr. Ōhira Hachizō of Metro Life Insurance Company, residing at 32 Tomikura-chō."

"What bearing does that have on anything?" Yasuo retorted irritably, his tone laced with outrage.

The detective looked around and lowered his voice,

“I’d prefer others not overhear such matters, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Please come in here.”

With that, Yasuo ushered the detective inside, and soon the two were seated facing each other in the parlor.
Perhaps because evening was approaching, the room had grown dim, but Yasuo, feeling self-conscious, did not attempt to turn on the lights.
The detective began asking questions in a gentle tone.

“Last night, did you not happen to pass through Tomikura-chō, where the murder occurred?”

Yasuo felt a visceral stab, as though a dagger had pierced his chest.

“I don’t know where Tomikura-chō is.”

Having given this provisional answer, as Yasuo considered how the detective had come to know that fact, he suddenly realized something.
The detective continued speaking.

“You purchased a rare old book last night, did you not?”

"So it was true," Yasuo thought.

“The book titled *Obscene Heresy Correction*—its newspaper wrapping had fallen precisely in front of Mr. Ōhira’s residence where the murder occurred.”
“Since we received a report of a found item this morning, we immediately divided our efforts to investigate antique bookstores across the city, and discovered that you had purchased it last night at Kosendo in Fukurochō.”

Yasuo now thought it was no use hiding anymore. But he resolved not to speak of that beautiful enigma of a woman. To put it plainly, he couldn't bear to involve his first love in the vortex of this horrifying murder case. The reassurance granted by the rare book's appearance was steadily giving way to apprehension about the fate threatening his beloved.

“I don’t know whether the town I passed through was Tomikura-chō, but it’s a fact that I came through the area around Marutamachi.”

“Around what time would that have been?”

“I don’t remember clearly.”

“Did you return directly to your residence after leaving Kosendo?”

“No, I stopped by Hōkōtei in Shin'eichō on my way back.”

“What time did you leave Hōkōtei?”

“I don’t recall exactly, but I believe it was sometime after eleven.”

Far from not remembering—in fact, he remembered clearly—yet he had no choice but to answer this way.

“So that means you passed through Tomikura-chō around midnight, correct?”
“When you passed through, did you not hear something like a woman’s scream coming from one of the houses?”

Yasuo began to feel a growing sense of unease.

“No.”

The voice that answered was terribly weak.

The detective stared at Yasuo’s face with a probing gaze,

“By any chance, when you passed by, didn’t a young woman come running out from one of the houses?”

“I don’t know—I don’t know.”

Yasuo’s voice trembled.

“I see,” said the detective in a doubtful tone. “The truth is, right next to the newspaper wrapping of the old book, a single celluloid hairpin was found lying there. Though there are no particular footprints on the ground, somehow it seems to me that the woman who rushed out from inside clung to you as you happened to pass by. When we inquired at Kosendo, we learned that old book costs as much as five hundred yen. Given how valuable it is, there’s simply no other way to interpret someone dropping it than this line of reasoning.”

At once astonished by Detective Ushimura’s deduction and increasingly unsettled, Yasuo began to feel an eerie sensation.
He was at a loss for how to answer.
The resolve he had made to never speak of that woman seemed to crumble before his eyes under the detective’s relentless questioning.
He resolved that maintaining silence was now the safest course.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to hear your account,” the detective said courteously.
“After all, this is a major murder case.
Please—we would like you to assist our investigation.
The truth is—”

Then, suddenly changing his tone,
Yasuo found himself startled each time he heard the detective’s “The truth is,” and now held his breath, wondering what he would say next.

“It was a little before four this morning. A young woman walking barefoot from Gojō was spotted by an officer on patrol, who began secretly following her. She started ascending the Kobari railroad crossing on the Chūō Line’s elevated tracks. Finding this suspicious, he hid in the embankment’s shadow to observe. Just as a train’s roar approached, fearing an accident, he rushed up and apprehended her without allowing protest. Even when questioned about her circumstances, she kept her mouth firmly shut. She wouldn’t state her address, nor where she’d come from or where she was headed—but being barefoot with disheveled hair suggested grave circumstances, so they brought her to XX Station for protective custody. Even at the station, she gave no response to any questioning.”

“Now then, when the Tomikura-chō murder case was reported and there were simultaneous reports filed regarding *Obscene Heresy Correction* and the hairpin, I immediately suspected a connection might exist. Upon comparing that hairpin with the one the woman was wearing, they matched perfectly.”
“However, since there are countless women wearing identical hairpins in this world, we can’t consider it conclusive evidence.”

At this point, Detective Ushimura paused his speech and scrutinized Yasuo's expression.
Yasuo felt not so much fear as embarrassment.
The whereabouts of the woman he had thought would never be discovered had unexpectedly come to light far sooner than anticipated, and now that circumstances allowed him to meet her whenever he wished, his heart pounded with a kind of excitement.
Now that things had come to this, he began to think of laying everything bare and exerting every effort for her sake.
Revealing the circumstances would likely deepen suspicion toward her and plunge her into dire straits, but Yasuo firmly believed—without a doubt—in her innocence.

“However,” the detective continued, shattering Yasuo’s train of thought. “You may already know from the newspapers, but around midnight last night, what sounded like a woman’s scream was heard at the victim’s house.”
“Since the hired elderly woman had returned home last night, we must presume another woman was present.”
“That presumption was confirmed by a pair of women’s geta discovered at the victim’s residence.”
“When we showed the geta to our mysterious woman, her face momentarily changed color—though she still denied everything.”
“With no other recourse, we secretly had the hired woman—old Yone—verify whether this woman had ever visited the Ōhira household. But Yone insisted she’d never seen her before.”
“Even when we pressed whether the murdered master had ever mentioned such a woman during his lifetime, or if female visitors regularly called… according to Yone, he never spoke of private matters and claimed no such visits occurred.”

“Thus, we simply cannot ascertain the woman’s identity. However, upon discovering that you were the owner of *Obscene Heresy Correction*, we considered the possibility that you might have encountered the woman running out. If that were the case, we thought her identity might be revealed through your account—which is why we have taken the liberty of questioning you.”

Faced with these exhaustively logical words, Yasuo realized that maintaining silence was no longer possible.

So he recounted in detail the adventure of the previous night.
He explained how he had left Hokotei in Shinsakae-cho and been strolling aimlessly when he suddenly heard a woman’s scream in an unfamiliar district—though he hadn’t realized it was Tomikura-cho at the time. After stopping at the sound, a woman soon came rushing out in panic and clung to him. Half-supporting her, he retraced his steps to Marutamachi-dori, where he tended to her by the roadside until an empty taxi happened by. He hailed it and brought her to his home. After laying her on the bed and giving her cold water, she regained full consciousness but appeared utterly exhausted; deciding to inquire further the next day, he let her rest and retired to the adjacent room to sleep himself. When he awoke around ten this morning, she was gone. Searching the bedroom thoroughly, he found a hastily scribbled note in pencil on the bedside table. He relayed all this methodically before finally showing the detective the letter she had left.
By then, the room had grown quite dark, so Yasuo stood up and turned on the switch.

The detective read the letter intently.
Yasuo said.

“That being the case, I too do not know the woman’s identity.”
“According to your earlier account, the woman was said to have climbed onto the railroad crossing, and fearing she might commit suicide, the officer apprehended her. However, judging from the contents of her letter, I rather think she had no intention of taking her own life.”
“The reason she remains so stubbornly silent at the police station must be due to some special circumstance.”

Detective Ushimura nodded but soon inquired.

"When the woman came running out, was she holding a dagger or anything of that sort in her hand?"

Though the question had been anticipated, Yasuo felt irritation rise within him.

"Not only did she not have a dagger, but there was no blood on her clothes either."
"She is absolutely not the culprit."
"She couldn’t possibly commit murder."
"I firmly believe that."
"I consider even voicing such suspicions to be disrespectful."

As the detective’s eyes remained fixed on his own unusually agitated face, Yasuo started and flushed crimson.

“I do not consider that woman to be the culprit.”
“Until I came here, even whether that woman was connected to this case remained unclear.”
“So, has the culprit who killed Mr. Ōhira still not been identified?”

And so, Yasuo asked, gradually kindling a detective-like curiosity.

"We still don't know. We found it suspicious that old Yone was specifically absent last night and detained her as the initial suspect. However, upon thorough investigation, it was proven that she had indeed returned to her home last night and remained there until morning. Thus, we've decided to release her for the time being."

"Didn't you find any clues from the crime scene investigation?"

“At present, we haven’t obtained any concrete leads.”

“What were the results of the autopsy?”

“Other than being stabbed in the right kidney area from behind with a sharp dagger, there were no particularly noteworthy findings.”

“So what on earth do you intend to do now?”

Detective Ushimura was silent for a while, but—

“We don’t have any concrete plan for now, but since we’ve confirmed that the woman in the detention cell fled from Mr. Ōhira’s house, I believe we have no choice but to question her thoroughly and clarify the circumstances.”

Yasuo felt as though he’d pressed a finger to a raw wound. The thought of that fragile woman he cared for enduring another relentless interrogation by the police was intolerable to him. He had been so agitated since earlier that he’d even forgotten his hunger, but now his heart throbbed all the more fiercely,

“Why not let me conduct that interrogation instead?”

“Huh?” Detective Ushimura looked perplexed.

“Your doubts are entirely reasonable, but in my estimation, even if your officers were to interrogate her by any means possible, I believe she would never respond. Therefore, I would ask that you allow me to take your place. I will certainly make her explain everything.”

As he spoke these words, sweat glistened on Yasuo’s forehead.
Detective Ushimura considered this briefly but seemed unable to formulate an immediate reply.

“I am by no means meeting her to coach her.”
“I believe in her innocence, so I want to prove it.”
“I wanted to put into practice the knowledge I’ve gained from all the detective novels I’ve read so far.”
“If at all possible, I would also like to be permitted to conduct the on-site investigation.”
“So to speak, as a temporary amateur detective, I would like to assist the police with just this case.”

Detective Ushimura appeared to be swayed by Yasuo’s impassioned tone.
The detective had likely discerned Yasuo’s true intentions as well.
And so, he had likely concluded that getting her to talk through Yasuo’s efforts was the best approach.
After a moment, he adopted a resolved demeanor and said with a faint smile.

“While detective novels and reality are by no means the same, I fully understand your enthusiasm. Therefore, I will request permission from the Chief.”
“Allowing an amateur to join the investigation is highly irregular, but since our priority is identifying the culprit swiftly by any means necessary, I believe the Chief will approve your request.”

With these words, the detective stood up.

“I sincerely ask for your assistance.”
“I will finish my meal and then present myself at the police station.”

Detention Cell Dialogue

Two hours later, Tohari Yasuo was talking with the woman who was his first love in a room at the X Police Station.

Through Detective Ushimura's efforts and the Police Chief's goodwill, he had been permitted not only to meet with her but also obtained unofficial approval to participate in the on-site investigation provided he did not interfere with police operations.

When Yasuo opened the detention cell door, her pale cheeks—turned toward him in an unguarded moment—flushed crimson.
In the bleak detention cell illuminated by dim electric light, her figure could perhaps be likened to a large flower blooming in a trash heap.
For Yasuo, it was truly the height of touching pathos.

Although Yasuo had entered energetically, when he found himself alone with her, he suddenly became unable to speak.

“Last night…”

With that, he said in a thin voice, then hesitantly sat down beside her.

The woman nodded slightly and looked down, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as if to avoid his gaze.
Apart from wearing the dirty slippers provided by the police, she remained in the same state as last night, but her hair had become even more disheveled, and signs of fatigue were visible down to her neck.

“What on earth happened?” Yasuo said, forcing himself to remain calm.
“When I saw your note this morning, I truly despaired.”
“Actually, there was a moment when I resented your very heart.”

The woman still did not raise her face but took a deep breath,

“I’m terribly sorry.”

she said faintly.

Yasuo was greatly encouraged upon hearing this.
For the fear that she might not utter a single word had now been completely dispelled.

“This isn’t about apologies or forgiveness.”
“It’s just that I was worried about your well-being.”
“The fact that you came rushing out of the Ōhira household in such a state must mean there were grave circumstances involved.”
“I had intended to hear those circumstances in detail this morning, but since you were nowhere to be seen, I became utterly disappointed.”
“At the same time, I was worried about your well-being.”
“Then, come evening, what further increased my worry was that Mr. Oohira had been killed by someone last night.”
“When I read it in the evening paper, I was truly shocked.”
“Then Detective Ushimura came to visit me and, based on various pieces of evidence, inferred that you had met me last night. He came to inquire about your whereabouts.”
“However, I naturally had no knowledge of it either.”
“However, now that it’s been established that you came running out of the Ōhira household last night, the police will undoubtedly suspect you and continue their persistent interrogations.”
“Because I couldn’t endure that thought, I came here to ask you to entrust your situation to me.”

Yasuo smoothly said all this and brushed it off.
The more he saw of the woman, the more his poignant tenderness swelled, and the more his feelings of love intensified.

“I’m sorry for causing you worry,” the woman said, taking another deep breath.
“However, I beg you, please do not inquire into my circumstances.”

“There’s no need for me to inquire into your circumstances.”
“However, you have been caught up in the maelstrom of a grave incident—a murder.”
“When I think of the deceased, I feel compelled to find the culprit as soon as possible.”
“I firmly believe that you are not the culprit.”
“Therefore, I want you to at least provide proof with your own words that you are not the culprit.”
“Otherwise, the police will have to wander forever in a fog of confusion.”

But the woman did not reply.

“I have not even heard your name yet.”
“However, there’s no need for you to force yourself to tell me.”
“But I wish to be your completely faithful helper in every way possible.”
“I want to somehow find the true culprit and dispel these suspicions hanging over you.”
“I need not ask why you visited the Ōhira household or under what circumstances.”
“But regarding your scream… I simply feel certain it was you who screamed. If you could just tell me what happened from that moment until you ran outside, that would be enough.”

When he noticed, the woman was frantically wiping away tears with her handkerchief.
Yasuo was somewhat flustered.

"I must apologize for this."
"I never intended to cause you any pain."
"Please forgive me."

The woman’s voice that said “No” was clear.
"That is not the case."
"It’s just… when I considered your kindness, I couldn’t help…"

"Then will you grant my request?"

The woman was thinking intently.

"Since this may be difficult for you to speak about, I will infer the circumstances one by one and ask my questions."
"Did Mr. Ōhira do something to cause you suffering last night?"

The woman’s face at that moment unmistakably took on a reddish hue.
That might perhaps be a memory of rage.
She silently nodded.

“At that moment, you must have uttered a scream for help.”

The woman nodded.

“Then, at that very moment, Mr. Ōhira was stabbed from behind by someone with a dagger and collapsed covered in blood, I presume.”
“And then, shocked by that unexpected tragedy, you ran out from the house, I presume.”

The woman lightly shook her head from side to side.

“Then, did you see who stabbed Mr. Ōhira and run away in shock?”

“That is not the case,” she finally spoke.
“I was attacked by that person, let out a scream from the shock, and lost consciousness on the spot.”
“When I came to my senses some time later, that person was lying beside me covered in blood.”
“Overcome with terror, I rushed out in a frenzy.”

Yasuo let out a sigh of relief.
The relief of having achieved his purpose and the relief of knowing her innocence lifted the burden from his chest.

“I see. Thank you for explaining.”
“That’s already more than enough to hear, but surely you have parents or siblings who are worried about you.”
“For their sake, you must leave here as soon as possible.”
“To do that...”

“I have no parents, no siblings—no one at all.”

“Huh?” Yasuo involuntarily gazed at her profile. The phrase “From an unfortunate woman” that had been in her farewell letter rose in his mind.

“Thank you very much.”
“I will not cause you any more pain.”
“However, please grant me one last request.”
“Last night after leaving my house, I hear you went to the Chuo Line railroad crossing. You surely didn’t intend to commit suicide there, did you?”

The woman nodded firmly.
"I had no such intention at all."

“Ah, that puts my mind at ease. The last request I wish to make is that even if you are released from here, I want you to inform me of your destination without fail. Of course, until this case is resolved, you will likely have to endure some inconvenience, so I will spare no effort to settle it as swiftly as possible.”

Unexpected Discovery

The next morning, our amateur detective Tohari Yasuo went to Mr. Ōhira’s residence and conducted an investigation of the murder scene.
That said, this was by no means a systematic investigation.
In his excessive concern for his beloved’s well-being, he had cast aside all shame and charged in with reckless abandon.

Mr. Ōhira’s body had been laid to rest in a separate room, where relatives and close acquaintances were busy preparing for the funeral.
The room where the crime had occurred had its fusuma sliding doors shut tight, with a single police officer standing guard to prevent entry.

When Yasuo showed the police chief’s name card, the police officer slid open the fusuma and let him inside.
It was an eight-tatami living room with a closet built into the side of the tokonoma alcove—its sliding doors likewise closed—before which blackish-red blood had drawn a gruesome map across the tatami mats.
As this remained an active investigation, the scene had not been disturbed in the slightest.

Yasuo recalled what he had heard from the woman and, standing in the center of the room for some time, looked around.
And then, he arrived at the following conclusion.

The culprit was likely hiding inside the closet; when Mr. Ōhira attacked her，the culprit suddenly slid open the fusuma and stabbed him in the back with a dagger.

He opened the closet and looked inside.
The interior was divided into two levels: a few tools were placed on the upper level, and bedding was stacked on the lower level, but in the far right corner, there was a space easily large enough for a person to enter.
He searched that area thoroughly, but was unable to discover any particular clues.

He then walked carefully to avoid stepping on the bloodstains, went out to the engawa in front of the sitting room, and gazed at the inner garden.
Though called an inner garden, it wasn’t particularly spacious—planted with several cypress trees, one or two plum trees, and about three Kirishima azaleas bearing buds. Following the stepping stones to the left allowed one to circle around the house and reach the entrance, he realized.

The murderer would likely not do something like sneak in through the front entrance.
He must have come up from this inner garden and slipped into the closet without a doubt.

Having reached this conclusion, he decided to first survey the perimeter of the estate. Fortunately, he found a pair of garden clogs near the washbasin’s shoe-removal area. Slipping them on, he stepped out into the inner garden.

The front was bordered by a black-painted wooden fence, but on both the right and left boundaries, only maki trees were sparsely planted, allowing free passage.
The area facing the house’s left neighbor functioned as a kitchen, with various tools haphazardly stored inside a storage shed. However, the boundary section between the right neighbor—or what would be considered the left neighbor from the street perspective—had no particular obstacles placed upon it. Thus, if someone were to come and go through the rear, this section would surely serve as their pathway.
And so, Yasuo walked intently across that section of ground, searching thoroughly.

“Oh! If it isn’t Young Master Tohari!”

Suddenly called out to from ahead, Yasuo looked up in surprise to find a woman in her fifties standing beyond the maki trees. When he looked, it was Toyo—a woman who had been employed at their Honjuemachi main residence for two or three years during the time his parents were alive and well.

“Oh! Ms. Toyo! Long time no see. So you’re living next door here now?”

“No, I am employed as an attendant nurse by a patient.”
“And why has someone like you come to a place like this again?”

“Actually, there’s a bit of a reason—though you must already know this—the master of this house was killed and the culprit remains unknown.”
“I’ve come to investigate that half out of dilettantish curiosity.”

“Oh, is that so?”
“So have you found any clues?”

“Well, not yet.
I’m out here searching the garden like this, wondering if I can find any clues.”

Then, as if struck by a thought, Toyo lowered her voice and,
“Young Master! Wait!”
said and beckoned Yasuo with her hand.

Intrigued by her suggestive manner, Yasuo was driven by curiosity. He passed through the maki trees and entered the neighboring estate.

Toyo walked ahead in silence and soon led Yasuo to a certain shadowy spot.

“What is it?” Yasuo asked, unable to contain himself any longer.

Then Toyo cautiously looked around her surroundings,

“Actually, Young Master, last night I saw the person who killed the master of the neighboring house.”

“What?!” Yasuo exclaimed in surprise.

“Well, no—of course I wasn’t actually present at the scene—but I did see someone who I believe may be the culprit.”

“I see. Tell me everything you know.”

“It was like this. The son I’m currently caring for seems to be suffering from a chest condition, and since he struggles to rest at night, I generally stay awake until around three in the morning myself.”
“With him sleeping now, that’s why I came outside—but last night around midnight, I heard a shrill woman’s voice from the house next door.”
“After that went quiet, I didn’t think much of it. But about fifteen minutes later, when I excused myself and happened to glance through the window at their back garden, there was a dark figure frantically searching the grounds.”
“The moon had already dipped westward by then, but the silhouette stood out clear as day.”
“They kept at it for some time before finally giving up and leaving as if fleeing.”

“Was it a man or a woman?”

“It was an elderly man.”

“What? Is that true?”

“Indeed, it was.”
“Then when morning came and the murder commotion began, I thought that old man must have killed Mr. Ōhira.”

“So you didn’t report that to the police?”

“Yes, I was afraid of getting involved, so I kept silent.”

“What did the old man look like?”

“Well, it was too dark to see clearly, but I actually found what that old man was so desperately searching for.”

“What?!”

“Certainly, since I thought the old man had left without finding it, this morning—before the old woman next door had returned—though knowing it was wrong, I quietly searched the neighboring garden.”
“Then there it was—fallen among the moss, hidden in the shadow of a wood fragment.”
“What was it?”

Toyo hesitated for a moment, then—

"If you keep silent about me having picked it up, I shall hand it over."

"I’ll keep quiet."

"Please pretend you found it yourself."

"Ah, we’ll do that."
"So you have it here?"

"I do."

Toyo reached into her sleeve.
Yasuo waited breathlessly, so consumed by curiosity he felt his blood might freeze, as she prepared to produce it.
Soon Toyo withdrew a medal-sized parcel wrapped in floral paper and unfolded it before Yasuo’s eyes.

What appeared from within was——

The moment Yasuo saw it, he involuntarily cried out, “Ah!”

“Are you acquainted with this item?”

Toyo also asked excitedly.

“Yes, I know it!”

What Yasuo picked up as he said this was a single eyeglass lens.
Moreover, that lens was none other than the grass-patterned crystal lens—treasured as an ancestral heirloom and constantly worn by Old Man Kouno Kotarō, the eccentric proprietor of Kosendo from whom he had requested *Obscene Heresy Correction* the previous night.

Love in the Detention Cell

Shall we call it a strange twist of fate or a mysterious destiny? Confronted with this unforeseen discovery, our amateur detective Tohari Yasuo could not help but suspect that everything might be but a dream for some time.
Though he had often read detective novels and encountered such scenes—surprising and delighting him each time—now that he was being shown such an example so vividly in reality, it was hardly unreasonable for him to feel this way.

What could it possibly mean that the unmistakable crystal lens of Old Man Kouno Kotarō, proprietor of the Kosendo antiquarian bookstore, had been dropped in the garden of Mr. Ōhira’s residence—now tinged with ominous blood?
When the temporary surprise faded, this doubt began to swell and rise in his mind.
And at the same time, the scene from the night before last—when he had visited Kosendo and conversed with Old Man Kouno—vividly rose before his eyes.

When Yasuo asked about the price of *Obscene Heresy Correction* and remarked, "That's rather steep," Old Man Kouno removed his spectacles.
This was one of his characteristic gestures when displeased, but in that moment, a lens clattered down onto the tatami.
Clicking his tongue, the old man refitted it into the golden frame—an incident that had clearly left the lens prone to dislodging.
Thus, should the old man have walked through Mr. Ōhira's garden, there would be nothing strange about the eyeglass lens having fallen out.

But for what purpose had the proprietor of Kosendo visited the Ōhira residence?
Thinking this, Yasuo had no choice but to come to an abrupt dead end.
Even if Old Man Kouno’s lens had been discovered, one could not necessarily assert that Old Man Kouno had visited the Ōhira residence.
He must conduct his deduction after clarifying the circumstances more thoroughly.……………………

“Well then, who might be the owner of these glasses?”

Suddenly, Toyo’s question snapped Yasuo back to his senses.
He had been so absorbed in his reverie after the utterly unexpected discovery upon receiving the lens from Toyo the caregiver that he had completely forgotten she was right there before his eyes.

“Ah, well…” Yasuo answered hurriedly.
“It’s someone entirely unexpected.”
“Since it’s unwise to speak rashly, I’ll keep the name to myself for now—but it’s an old man I know well.”
“Let me confirm once more—was the person you saw unquestionably an old man?”

“There’s absolutely no mistake about that.”
“I couldn’t make out the face well, but their appearance was undoubtedly that of an elderly person.”

“You said this person was searching the garden about fifteen minutes after hearing the woman’s scream next door?”

“I can’t state precisely—it might have been fifteen minutes or perhaps even twenty.”

Yasuo crossed his arms and considered.
Mr. Ōhira’s murder had necessarily occurred almost simultaneously with that scream.
If this old man were truly the culprit—what could he possibly have been doing during those intervening minutes?
When the scream rang out, I had been standing right before Mr. Ōhira’s residence.
And until that mysterious woman came running out, no one else had entered or exited the premises.

“Oh, thank you very much.”
Yasuo thanked Toyo.
“Thanks to you, I’ve managed to make progress, so to speak.”
“Once this case is resolved, I’ll come see you properly again.”
“Please take good care of the patient.”

Having said this, he stored the crucial lens evidence in his inner pocket, bid farewell to Toyo, passed through the machilus grove, and returned to the rear garden of Mr. Ōhira’s residence. Walking along the garden stones toward the sitting room, he imagined the scene from two nights prior—the suspicious old man (it must have been Old Man Kouno) searching for his eyeglass lens. After returning to the sitting room and glancing at the blood-stained tatami, Yasuo promptly left the Ōhira residence.

But when he went out into the town, Yasuo found himself at a loss as to where to go.
If one were a normal detective, visiting Old Man Kouno of Kosendo would naturally be the logical course of action.
But if Old Man Kouno were the true culprit, an extremely awkward scene would arise there.
Moreover, while I had been permitted to participate in this investigation through the goodwill of the Chief of the XX Police Station, I had not been granted the authority to arrest the perpetrator.
If I were to visit Old Man Kouno and bring up the story of finding the eyeglass lens, it might end up making him wary or could even cause him to flee.

Yasuo, who had come to a stop in front of the Ōhira residence while crossing his arms and pondering, suddenly recalled how the night before last, he had been embraced by the mysterious woman right there.
At the same time, his heart turned toward “her.”
And so, he thought it most appropriate to inform her of this unexpected discovery before anyone else.

Had she slept peacefully last night? Could she have betrayed their promise and attempted escape from the detention cell? These thoughts left Yasuo with an inexplicable unease. He yearned to see her face at once - to share how he'd found a clue about the culprit and ease her fears. Even if Old Man Kouno weren't the true criminal, the lens discovered at Mr. Ōhira's residence undeniably connected him to the case. Yasuo wanted to convey this comfort to her. After all, identifying the real perpetrator would naturally secure her release.

Yasuo hurried toward the XX Police Station.
The moment he yearned to see his lover soonest, his feet flew through air.

When he arrived at the station, Detective Ushimura was absent, but the Police Chief welcomed this amateur detective with a beaming smile.
Yasuo spoke out of concern for her well-being rather than reporting on the case.

"What became of that woman?"

He felt his cheeks burning despite himself.

"She slept peacefully last night—seems in quite good spirits today."
"Still won't speak of her background, though we haven't pressed the matter."
"Given her demeanor today, meeting you might loosen her tongue entirely."
"But setting that aside—any progress in your search?"

Yasuo, feeling daunted by the Police Chief’s courteous phrasing,

“After all, it’s an amateur’s work—utterly hopeless.”
“However, I went to Mr. Ōhira’s residence just now and made a small discovery.”

“What is it?” the Police Chief pressed, cutting off Yasuo’s words as if to rush him.

Yasuo was flustered,

“I’ll explain that later, but first, I’d like to request to meet that woman.”

The Police Chief glanced briefly into Yasuo’s eyes before giving a deep nod.

When he entered the detention cell, she sat modestly in the same state as yesterday. Her complexion was far better than yesterday’s, and the moment she saw Yasuo, she smiled and greeted him. That smile made Yasuo forget everything in an instant—the murder, the investigation, the lens, Old Man Kouno—all of it vanished from his mind. Yasuo’s heart had been completely occupied by the figure of his beautiful lover.

He strode briskly toward her but hesitated over what words to say. He tentatively sat down beside her, but his heartbeat suddenly quickened, and his breathing began to grow rapid. The more he tried not to panic, the more his heart pounded.

But she perceived his predicament and spoke up to rescue him from it.

“I’m truly sorry for causing you so much trouble this time.”

Her voice carried such remarkable cheerfulness that Yasuo suddenly felt elated, his words bursting from his throat.

“Far from being trouble, I would do anything for you.”
“The very reason I volunteered as an amateur detective was to prove your innocence.”
“By good fortune, this hope of mine has begun to bear fruit.”
“When I searched the Ōhira residence you visited the night before last, I found an item that may lead us to the true culprit.”
“I rushed here immediately to tell you this and ease your mind.”

“Oh, what extraordinary kindness!”
“And may I ask what this clue might be?”

She now adopted an enthusiastic attitude entirely unlike before.
The word “clue” had likely pricked her curiosity.

“Though I call it a clue, I don’t know if it’s truly as significant as I expected, but I believe we can likely use it to hunt down the true culprit.”
“Once we identify the true culprit, you’ll be freed at once from this gloomy, desolate, wretched place.”

Having said this, Yasuo leaned in to peer at her face.
But for some reason, instead of joy, a shadow of sorrow began to drift across her face.
Yasuo had already noticed this,

“What’s the matter? Did I say something to offend you?”

“No, no.”
She hurriedly denied. Her disheveled hair and slightly swollen eyelids only accentuated her beauty. She smiled sadly and continued.
“As I mentioned yesterday, I am a lonely soul with not a single family member to my name.”
“Rather than half-heartedly returning to society, staying in this detention cell might be far more carefree.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.
What a heartrending sight she was.
Yasuo was seized by an impulse to comfort her with a firm embrace.

“You mustn’t say such forlorn things!” Yasuo said, his voice trembling slightly.
“Oh dear... I truly don’t know what to say at times like this.
Shall I speak plainly then?”

After hesitating a moment,

“I’m alone too, just like you.
Why don’t we just...”

The implied meaning of “Marry me” seemed to reach her, and instinctively she turned her face away from Yasuo.

“Oh dear, have I made you angry by saying such things?”

“No!”
Her voice was strong.

“Is it true?” As Yasuo clung to her arm, her head moved slightly in a nod.

Suddenly, from the neighboring room, the jarring clang of a bell resounded.
The two of them jolted awake from their beautiful dream.
It was likely a signal summoning the police officers for some purpose.
A restless clamor of footsteps arose and persisted.

“This won’t do. This place is ill-suited for such conversations.”
“What were we discussing earlier? Ah, yes.”
“I meant to show you the clue I found in Mr. Ōhira’s garden.”
“I haven’t shown this to the Police Chief or anyone else yet.”

Having said this, Yasuo took out the lens from his pocket and presented it before her.

“This is it!”

She was peering timidly at it as though examining a rare insect, but—
“How can this be a clue?”
“I know who owns this eyeglass lens.”
Having said this, Yasuo recounted to Toyo every detail of their encounter.
“Then, who might be the owner of this eyeglass lens?”
She, too, gradually caught up in the excitement and inquired.

Yasuo glanced around cautiously and lowered his voice,

“It’s the owner of a certain antiquarian bookstore in the city.”

After hearing these words, she seemed to ponder for a while, but soon her beautiful eyes began to shine.

“Could it possibly be an antiquarian bookstore called Kosendo?”

Yasuo was surprised.

“What? What? Why do you know that?”

She did not reply immediately.
She remained looking down in thought for a while, then raised her face as if having resolved herself.

“I will tell you everything.”
She took a deep breath.

“Please forgive me for remaining silent until now.”
“My name is Shinoda Utayo.”
“My father worked at a government office, and until four or five years ago, the three of us—my parents and I—lived together in Nagoya. But when my father was transferred, we moved to Tokyo.”
“However, less than a year later, my father passed away from illness, leaving just my mother and me. While we weren’t in immediate need of food, I became a typist to support us.”
“We lived peacefully during that time, but misfortune strikes repeatedly—when my mother suddenly died the other day, I was left completely at a loss.”

“Mr. Ōhira was a distant relative of my mother’s, and we had often interacted since our time in Nagoya. When my mother’s funeral was held the other day, he went out of his way to come to Tokyo and showed me many kindnesses.”
“Looking back on it now, it seems his kindness contained some impure elements, but to my lonely heart—left all alone—it was truly, truly a welcome thing.”
“At that time, Mr. Ōhira mentioned that fortunately his company happened to need a typist, and if I was willing to come, he would arrange it for me. Feeling that this would be far more reassuring, I told him I would gratefully accept his offer.”
“After two or three days had passed, a letter arrived from Mr. Ōhira stating that the company had finally decided to hire you and instructed you to settle your affairs there and come to Nagoya.”
“He said it would be acceptable for me to live in his house, but since that might invite gossip, he had fortunately found a house to rent and intended to hire a maid.”
“And so, on the morning of the day before yesterday, I departed Tokyo and arrived here.”
“When I arrived at Nagoya Station, Mr. Ōhira came to meet me, we had dinner along the way, and then by automobile, I went to the house he had rented for me.”

“Where was that?”

“It was located at 10-banchi in Kobari.”

“Ah! Then when you left my house the night before last and attempted to cross the Kobari railroad crossing on the Chuo Line—was that with the intention of returning to that house?”

“That is correct.”

“What did you do then?”

“I believe I arrived at the house a little past eight o’clock. The house was compact and tidy, appearing to have been rented exactly as previous occupants had left it—a most pleasant residence. Number Ten stood alone at that address, separated from neighboring houses by shrubbery, giving it something of a suburban feel. I thanked Mr. Ōhira for his kindness.”

“However, the maid who was supposed to come never appeared for some reason. Mr. Ōhira grew increasingly anxious, and when eleven o’clock came with still no sign of her, he said he would telephone about it and went out. He returned shortly afterward, having inquired at the employment agency—they said the maid couldn’t come until tomorrow morning. Since it would be dangerous for me to sleep alone there, he asked me to stay at his house just for tonight. With that settled, he mentioned having taken the opportunity to hire an automobile as well.”

“According to Mr. Ōhira’s account, since a maid had been employed at his residence as well and it was suggested I could sleep in the same room as her that night, I felt entirely reassured and resolved to accompany him.

However, when I went there, the maid who should have been present was nowhere to be found.
While I was thinking this strange, Mr. Ōhira called me to the inner tatami room and began to say something peculiar.
‘At first, I thought Mr. Ōhira was merely joking,’ she continued, ‘but in the end, he went so far as to ask me to marry him.’
‘I was utterly shocked by the extremity of it.’
When I realized all his previous kindness had stemmed from such ulterior motives, an indescribable sadness—as if I had been plunged into the abyss—overwhelmed my heart.
As I sat there in a daze, Mr. Ōhira suddenly lunged at me.”

"I let out an involuntary scream, but in that very instant, my consciousness faded away. When I came to my senses with a start and looked around, there lay Mr. Ōhira—to my shock—dead and drenched in blood. My mind was already in complete disarray; without a thought for what came before or after, I ran outside—but there you were, passing by at just the right moment to save me."

Absorbed in the woman’s background he was hearing for the first time and the events of the night before last, Yasuo had been utterly captivated—but now, regaining his composure, he spoke.

“Ah, you’ve told me everything thoroughly.”
“Then please allow me to call you Ms. Utayo from now on.”
“So how did you come to know about Kosendo?”

“At the Kobari house while Mr. Ōhira was out making a phone call, when I happened to glance around, I noticed two or three old Japanese-bound books on the desk. Casually picking one up and opening it, I found inside a red tanzaku-shaped slip with ‘Antiquarian Bookseller: Kosendo’ written on it.”
“That became clearly engraved in my mind.”

“What was the name of that book?”

“I’ve forgotten the title, but it had the appearance of a sentimental romance novel.”

“How curious—this case shares quite a fateful bond with Kosendo’s antiquarian texts, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Still—why would one of Kosendo’s volumes be present there?”

Having said this，Yasuo began to think.
But this proved no simple riddle to unravel.

Just then, the detention cell door opened, and Detective Ushimura entered.
The two of them stood up, greeted the detective, and exchanged pleasantries.

“When I asked the Chief just now, it seems you’ve discovered something.”

“It’s a minor clue.”

“What is that?”

“Then I will explain in front of the Police Chief.”
“Moreover, I have now received her name and other details from Ms. Utayo—no, from this woman—so I might as well share that as well.”

The two of them left Utayo behind and came before the Police Chief.

Yasuo said.

“In fact, it has been discovered that someone visited the Ōhira residence around the time of the murder the night before last.”

“Who is it?” asked the Police Chief and Detective Ushimura almost simultaneously.

“It’s a completely unexpected person—it’s me, the owner of Kosendo who purchased Obscene Heresy Correction.”

Upon hearing this, the detective’s eyes widened and he shouted.

“Oh! Is that true? That’s serious!”

“What’s so serious?” said the Police Chief.

“The owner of Kosendo closed up shop last night and went off somewhere!”

The True Culprit

“So he ran away, then?”

And the Police Chief pressed further with his questioning.

“The thing is,” Detective Ushimura excitedly continued.
“Early this morning, I visited the Ōhira residence and met an elderly woman named Yone. When I asked her to try hard to recall anyone who had come to see the master recently, she pondered for a while before stating that a secondhand bookstore called Kosendo had visited four or five nights ago.”
“When I went yesterday morning to inquire about the book Mr. Tohari had purchased, I recalled how something had seemed off at the time, so I immediately headed to Kosendo—only to find, to my shock, that its shutters were closed.”
“When I asked people nearby, they told me that while closing up shop to acquire old books had been an occasional occurrence before, recently his daughter had returned home and such things hadn’t happened—but since his daughter had gone off somewhere again, he had likely closed up and left to acquire old books.”
“Though I found it somewhat suspicious, since I hadn’t obtained permission for a house search, I proceeded directly to Mr. Ōhira’s workplace and made various inquiries—but failed to obtain any definitive leads.”
“Now, if we take into account Mr. Tohari’s account that the old man from Kosendo visited the Ōhira residence the night before last, he may have fled.”
“By the way, Mr. Tohari—how on earth did you manage to find that out?”

There, Yasuo recounted the entire story. As he had originally promised Toyo, he pretended that he himself had found the lens, visited the neighboring house, and reported having learned the circumstances from the caregiver. Then he recounted everything he'd just heard from Utayo in the detention cell.

“That’s truly remarkable skill for a detective,” praised the Police Chief.
“In any case, we must search for the old man from Kosendo’s whereabouts.
But where on earth could he have gone?”

Having said this, the Police Chief crossed his arms.

“I think I will first go to Kosendo and conduct a house search.”
“Please hand over the search warrant.”

When Detective Ushimura made this request to the Police Chief, the Chief stood up and went into the back room.

“Then I will go search for my own leads.”

Yasuo’s voice as he said this seemed so thoroughly filled with confidence that the detective—

“What?”
“Do you have any leads?”

“Since I don’t have any concrete information yet, I think I’ll just head out blindly and see what I can find.”

But his voice seemed to carry conviction.
However, the detective did not press any further.

Three hours later, Detective Ushimura returned wearing an expression of profound disappointment.
He then reported to the Police Chief.

“Even after conducting a house search, there were no signs suggesting he had fled.”
“It can only be considered that he temporarily left.”
“Since he usually doesn’t interact much with the neighbors, none of them know where he might be.”
“Other than that, nothing else that seemed related to Mr. Ōhira was found.”

While they were talking, our amateur detective Tohari Yasuo returned. His face was, so to speak, brimming with the color of victory.

“How did it go?” said Detective Ushimura.

“I’ve figured it out.”
Yasuo’s voice was cheerful.

“Huh? Have you found out where the old man is?”

“I just met with the old man.”

“Did you bring the old man?”

“I left him as he was and returned.”

“That’s terrible! He’ll get away! Where is the old man?”

“Don’t worry—he won’t run away. From here, I wish to take you and the Chief to where old man Kouno is.”

A car was prepared, and the three got in.
And before ten minutes had passed, they arrived at their destination.
It was Kobari 10-chome—namely, the house where Utayo had first been brought by Mr. Ōhira the night before last.
The surroundings lay silent, with the westering sun casting a bleak light over the plantings. Despite being April, the recent erratic weather had left a lonely atmosphere reminiscent of frost-blighted desolation lingering in the air.

When Yasuo led the way inside, old man Kouno greeted them with desolation. He was wearing new glasses, but his face remained etched with sorrow. The old man apologetically ushered the three into a room.

Yasuo began to speak.

"I'll explain everything in detail myself. When I first discovered old man Kouno's lens in Mr. Ōhira's garden, I suspected he might be the true culprit. But after hearing Ms. Utayo's account in the detention cell, that suspicion gradually crumbled away."

"When I learned from Ms. Utayo about this house's condition, I became certain someone connected to Mr. Ōhira must have lived here until recently. Then upon hearing how Mr. Ōhira tried to violate her after bringing her home, I realized we should seek the murder motive in that illicit affair."

"The culprit must be a woman," he continued, voice firm. "Undoubtedly a hysterical, jealous woman. One who'd been betrayed by Mr. Ōhira and killed him."

When I reached this conclusion, I deduced that a woman Mr. Ōhira had loved must have resided here. But who? Then it struck me - I remembered finding a Kosendo sentimental novel here, how Mr. Kouno visited the Ōhira residence that night, and how when I visited Kosendo two nights prior, the old man mentioned his daughter returning after being divorced elsewhere."

"That daughter I saw was clearly hysterical," Yasuo pressed on. "I imagined she'd been kept confined here by Mr. Ōhira. Their recent separation and her jealousy must have driven her to commit this terrible act."

“That night, the daughter sneaked into the closet of Mr. Ōhira’s residence and waited for his return. Then Mr. Ōhira brought Ms. Utayo there and attempted to assault her. There, she burst out from the closet and stabbed Mr. Ōhira in the back with a dagger. And then she temporarily concealed herself in either a corner of the room or a corner of the garden. It is my inference that such events had transpired,” he said. “And then, I came to know that this was indeed the truth.”

Having said this, Yasuo took a breath.
Old man Kouno had been sitting solemnly and respectfully all this while, seeming to affirm Yasuo’s words.

“Then we must apprehend that daughter as soon as possible…”

When Detective Ushimura began to say this, Yasuo stood up and silently slid open the fusuma door at the boundary with the adjacent room.

Ah!
There lay a woman—no, the corpse of a woman—lonely upon the futon.

“This is my daughter,” said old man Kouno.
The old man, who usually offered curt greetings to others, now spoke in a polite tone.
“The truth is, she had hung a rope from that beam there and died by hanging, but since it was too unsightly, I took her down and laid her to rest without reporting it.”
“This is a shameful confession, but my daughter received Mr. Ōhira’s patronage and was secretly staying in this house under his care.”
“However, the other day, for some reason, she was sent back.”
“Even when I asked her about the reason, my daughter wouldn’t say a word; she was deeply sorrowful while also harboring great resentment toward Mr. Ōhira.”
“Because of this, she developed a nervous condition, alternating between lying down and getting up, so I became concerned and went to visit Mr. Ōhira’s residence the other evening to inquire about the reason. When I did so, he told me something about having decided to formally marry a certain woman.”

“The night before last when Mr. Tohari honored us with a visit, my daughter said she was going to the bathhouse and left.”
“However, even after an hour had passed, she did not return.”
“Growing worried, I went to inquire at the bathhouse only to be told she hadn’t come. Fearing she might have done something rash, I visited this house—yet there was no sign of anyone within.”
“As this back-and-forth continued until nearly midnight, I went to Mr. Ōhira’s residence suspecting something amiss—and saw the entrance standing open.”
“Thinking this strange, I slipped into the tatami room through the back entrance... only to find Mr. Ōhira murdered.”
“Startled beyond measure, I fled—but in my haste realized my crystal lens had fallen out. Though I searched frantically fearing it might become evidence, my agitation prevented me from finding it, and I returned home empty-handed.”

“However, my daughter still had not returned.
Convinced that my daughter had killed Mr. Ōhira, I spent the night without the courage to go out again. Then this gentleman”—Kouno gestured toward Detective Ushimura—“appeared, startling me at first, but it turned out to be an inquiry about *Obscene Heresy Correction* of all things.”

“Unable to wait for nightfall—as if some instinct had forewarned me—I felt certain my daughter was in this house, so I sneaked over. When I arrived, she was already dead.
I immediately lowered the corpse and proceeded to hold a wake, but even today”—his voice faltered—“I was at a complete loss over what to do when Mr. Tohari came to visit earlier.
Here is my daughter’s suicide note—please do take a look at it.
What is written here is precisely the circumstances that Mr. Tohari has stated.”

The Police Chief received the suicide note in silence but made no move to read it, instead quietly shifting his gaze to the desolate face of the deceased.

Several days later, the Gokisho residence of literary scholar Tohari Yasuo gained a new cohabitant.
That was, needless to say, Shinoda Utayo.