Kojo Suzuki - Spiral

“I’m sure it’s nothing, doctor. We had a stretch last year, too, when we kept missing each other’s calls. We went almost two months without talking then!”

Ando felt antsy. He couldn’t explain the situation even if he wanted to. Just the day before, they’d found in Ryuji’s tissue sample the same virus that had shown up in the two Yokohama kids. They hadn’t been able to establish how the contagion was passed on, or by what route it had traveled. Depending on what they turned up, perhaps the truth had to be withheld from the media. He couldn’t let Mai’s mother know what was going on, either.

“Excuse me for asking, but does your daughter spend the night away from her apartment often?”

“No, I don’t think so,” her mother said firmly.

“Do you happen to remember exactly what day it was you called her last week?”

The woman thought for a moment, then said, “Tuesday.”

So she had already not been answering her phone on Tuesday. Today was Wednesday. Over a week…

“Is it possible that she’s traveling?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Ando wondered how she could be so sure. “Why not?”

“Well, she has a part-time job as a tutor just to pay her daily expenses. She doesn’t want to be a burden on her parents, she says. I simply don’t believe she has enough money to travel.”

All of a sudden Ando was sure that Mai was in some terrible trouble. The Friday before, Mai had stood him up. It wasn’t as if he was difficult to get hold of. If she couldn’t make the date, all she had to do was give him a call the day before and tell him. But she hadn’t done that. And now, he felt sure he knew why. She couldn’t contact him. He recalled the Polaroids of Ryuji’s corpse. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rid himself of the picture of Ryuji’s limbs splayed out in death. It was still branded on his brain.

“Would it be possible for you to come up to Tokyo tomorrow?” As he made the request, Ando bowed even though he was talking to her over the phone.

“I’m not sure I can get away on such short notice,” she sighed. Then she was silent. Ando supposed he couldn’t expect her to feel a proper sense of urgency when he hadn’t given her the facts of the situation. All the same, though, she seemed a little too unconcerned about the whole thing. Ando wanted to tell her just how easy it was to lose someone you loved. How you could hear her voice, turn around, and find her gone.

Mrs Takano broke the awkward silence. “If I did go to Tokyo, what exactly would you have me do? File a missing person report?”

“I’d at least like you to take a look at her apartment. I’ll accompany you. We can think about a missing person report after that.” But Ando didn’t really believe they’d have to do that. This was- unfortunately-not that kind of case.

“I just don’t know… Does it have to be tomorrow?”

She couldn’t make up her mind. What errand could she have that was important enough to keep her from possibly finding her daughter dead? Ando couldn’t coddle her along any longer.

“Alright, then. I’ll go over to her apartment alone tomorrow. I understand she lives in a small studio. Do you happen to know if the building has a superintendent?”

“Yes, it does. I met him when I helped her move in.”

“Well then, I’m sorry to impose, but could I get you to call him and tell him that Mitsuo Ando will be coming by tomorrow afternoon, between two and three, and that I’d like to take a look at Mai’s room, in his presence of course?”

“Well…”

“Please. I doubt he’ll give me the key if I just show up unannounced.”

“Alright. I’ll make the call and set it up.” “Thank you. I’ll call you if anything conies up.” Just as he was about to hang up, Mai’s mother started to say something. “Listen…” Ando waited for her to continue. “Say hello to Mai if you see her.”

She doesn’t understand. Ando didn’t know what to feel as he hung up.

Mai’s apartment was only a short train ride from the university, no transfer required. Ando passed through the gate, left the station, and started to search for her apartment, map in one hand and the planner where he’d written the address in the other. He spotted a little girl in an orange kimono walking down the sidewalk ahead of him with her parents. He was reminded today was the traditional 7-5-3 festival, a celebration for boys of three and five and girls of three and seven. As he overtook and passed the trio he glanced at the child’s face. She seemed a little big, her features too well-developed, for her to be just seven years old. But her festive attire was bright and cheery in the afternoon sunlight. Ando thought her incredibly cute as she wobbled down the street in her unfamiliar lacquer sandals, clutching her mother’s hand. Even after he’d passed them, Ando kept stealing glances back at the three, imagining that in fifteen years the girl would grow up to be as beautiful as Mai.

He eventually located a seven-story apartment building facing a shopping arcade, the address of which matched what he’d written down in his planner. The facade was nice, but even from the outside, he could tell that the units had to be pretty small. They’d kept the rent low by cramming as many tenants as possible onto the property.

He found the superintendent’s office in the lobby and pushed the buzzer. Through the window, he could see him emerge from an inner room. An older gentleman. He opened a small door in the window, and Ando gave his name.

“Oh, yes. Miss Takano’s mother told me you were coming.” Jangling a thick bundle of keys, he came out of the office.

“I appreciate this,” Ando said.

“No, I ought to thank you. I’m afraid things haven’t been going well lately with that girl.”

Ando didn’t know exactly what Mai’s mother had told the man, so he didn’t know how to respond to this, except to say, “I guess not,” and follow him.

On the way to the elevator, they passed a bank of mailboxes. From one of them protruded several newspapers. Guessing it was Mai’s box, Ando had a closer look. As he’d suspected, the nameplate read TAKANO. There were four rows of mailboxes, and hers was in the top row.

“That’s Miss Takano’s. It’s hardly ever like that.”

Ando took the newspapers from where they’d been wedged into the mail slot and checked the dates. The oldest one was the morning edition from Thursday, November 8th. This was the seventh day since. It had been a full week, then, since Mai had last come down to pick up her newspaper. She could be sleeping somewhere else, but he doubted it. She was in her room, alright. It’s just that she couldn’t come down for the paper. All signs pointed in that direction.

The super interrupted Ando’s thoughts. “Okay, then, are you ready?” He sounded as if he thought Ando would back out.

“Yes, let’s go.” Plucking up all the courage he could muster, Ando followed the man into the elevator.

Mai’s apartment was on the third floor, room 303. The super took out his bundle of keys, chose one, and inserted it into the keyhole.

Without realizing it, Ando took a step back. I should have brought surgical gloves. The virus that had brought about Ryuji’s death was probably not airborne. He imagined it to be like AIDS, fairly difficult to catch. Still, it was an unknown quantity, and he should have taken precautions. Not that he was all that attached to life, but he didn’t want to die just yet. At least not until he’d figured out this puzzle.

A click echoed in the hall as the lock sprang open. Ando took another step backwards, but focused his sense of smell on whatever lay beyond the door. He was well-acquainted with the stench of death. It was mid-November, a fairly dry season, but he could expect a decomposing corpse to give off a powerful odor. He steeled himself until he was confident that even if the door opened to reveal what he expected it to, he could defend against the shock.