Seichō Matsumoto - Points And Lines

"On the night of the twentieth a train on this line arrived at Kashii station at 9:35. What time did it leave here?" Torigai inquired.

"Nine twenty-seven," the station master replied promptly.

"I have some questions I'd like to ask the man who was on the gate that night. Is he around?"

"Let me see." The station master ordered his assistant to check. The name was on the office record and the man was found to be on duty. The assistant went to fetch him.

"Has anything happened?" the station master asked while they waited.

"Yes, an incident." Torigai took a sip of the tea that had been offered to him.

"You have a tough job," the station master commented.

A station employee entered the office, approached the desk and saluted. "This is the man who was on duty that night," said the station master.

Torigai turned to address him. "I'm sorry to trouble you, young man. Were you on duty at the gate when the 9:27 train left on the night of the twentieth?"

"Yes, sir, I was."

"Among the passengers did you by chance see a man, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, wearing an overcoat, accompanied by a woman, around twenty-three or twenty-four, in kimono?"

"Let me think." The young man blinked his eyes. "There were many men wearing overcoats. Can you give me the color of their clothing?"

"The overcoat was a dark navy blue and he was wearing brown trousers. The women's coat was gray and under it she wore a brick-red kimono." Torigai was describing the clothes found on the two bodies on the beach. The young man tried to concentrate, his eyes looking into space.

"I'm afraid I don't remember. You see, most of the time we notice only the hands when we punch the tickets. Unless something unusual happens we seldom look at the faces of passengers. And anyway, since this is the start of the line, as soon as the gate opens passengers crowd through the wickets."

"But surely there was no crowd at that hour of the night?" Tongai remarked.

'There might have been thirty or forty passengers; that's about average."

"It's more usual for women to dress in western style these days, it seems to me. Not many wear kimono. Do think again; see if you can't remember."

"I'm afraid I can't."

Torigai was not easily put off. He insisted, but the station employee kept shaking his head and repeating that he could not remember. Jūtarō suddenly had another thought.

"Well, then, perhaps some people you know came through the gate that night."

"I believe there were."

"There were? Do you recall their names?"

"There were three, as I remember, all three old acquaintances of mine. I know their names and where they live."

"Excellent. Please let me have that information."

Torigai took it down in his notebook. He thanked both men for their cooperation and left the office. The next few hours were spent largely afoot. The three individuals lived along the Nishitetsu line Torigai visited in turn Wajiro, Shingu and Fukuma stations.

The man residing at Wajiro had this to report:

"I was in the first of the two coaches and remember seeing two women wearing gray coats. One was about forty years old, the other about twenty-six or twenty-seven. Seated to either side of them were some young office girls. I don't believe there was a man in a navy blue overcoat."

Torigai took Otoki's picture out of his pocket and showed it to him. "Was she the younger of the two women?" he asked.

"No, the features were very different."

The man living at Shingu said he had been in the second coach.

"A woman wearing a coat? I don't know. Maybe she was there. Actually, I fell asleep almost immediately. And I don't recall seeing a man in a dark blue overcoat either." Torigai showed him the two pictures but he failed to recognize them.

The last of the three passengers, the one from Fukuma, had more to say: "In the second coach, where I was, there was a woman wearing a coat. Yes, I suppose she could have been about twenty-five or twenty-six."

"Was the coat gray?"

"I don't remember the color. But so many coats are gray, this one could have been also. She was talking all the time to the man seated beside her."

"A man? What type of man?" Torigai was aroused. The answer was disappointing.

"They could have been a married couple. He looked over forty. He was wearing a kimono."

Torigai showed him the pictures but the man saw no resemblance to the couple he had described. He added that he could not remember the color of the man's overcoat.

Torigai returned to Hakata weary and despondent. He had been unable to determine whether Otoki and Sayama had been aboard the train.

When he entered the police station the chief got up immediately from his desk, as if he had been waiting for him. "Ah, Torigai," he said, "someone is here from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Board to see you."

A young stranger, wearing street clothes, was sitting next to the chief. He looked up at Torigai and smiled.

The stranger who stood up to greet Jūtarō Torigai was a man in his early thirties. He was short and sturdily built-so solid, in fact, he made the old detective think of a tree stump. Round eyes looked out at him from under heavy eyebrows, and an unusually clear complexion gave him a youthful appearance.

"You're Detective Torigai? I'm Kiichi Mihara, Assistant Inspector, 2nd Detective Section of the Metropolitan Police Board. I'm very glad to meet you." He bared a row of even white teeth as he smiled and presented his card.

At the mention of the 2nd Detective Section, Torigai knew at once that the inspector had come to investigate the Sayama suicide. The 1st Detective Section dealt with crimes of violence, the 2nd Section was responsible for cases of deception and fraud.

The Tokyo papers were playing up the scandal that had been uncovered in government circles. Kenichi Sayama's section in the X Ministry was the principal target. In fact, a colleague of Sayama's, an assistant section chief, was already under arrest. Only a week before, two leading members of a private organization closely connected with this same ministry had also been arrested. It looked as though the scandal would spread further. The 2nd Detective Section of the Metropolitan Police Board was in charge of the case.

"I've come to check on Kenichi Sayama, assistant section chief in the X Ministry, who committed suicide here," Inspector Mihara said as he settled back in his chair. "The chief has given me the outlines of the incident. He also gave me these materials which are most useful." On the desk were photographs of the scene of the suicides, the report of the autopsies and other documents. "I understand, Detective Torigai, that you have your suspicions about this love suicide."

"You remember giving me your opinion of the case the other day, Torigai?" the chief interjected, drawing nervously on his cigarette. "I repeated it to Inspector Mihara and he was very interested. Please explain it to him in detail." The chief detective's face betrayed his skepticism.

"That's right. I'm interested to hear that you have a different opinion of the Sayama case. I've been waiting to talk to you about it." Mihara's manner had charm.

"Well, it's not really a different opinion. It's hardly more than an idea." Torigai, aware of the presence of his chief, spoke with diffidence.

Mihara's eyes brightened. "Ideas are fine. Please let me hear yours."

Hesitantly, Torigai told him about the dining car receipt, made out for one person. As he spoke, his daughter's remark about love and appetite came to his mind but he refrained from repeating it.

"That's certainly an interesting fact," Mihara remarked in a tone intended as flattery. "Is the receipt on file?"