Fuminori Nakamura - The Gun

“Oh, well, that’s not what I’m investigating,” the man said with a curt laugh. “The problem is, we retrieved a bullet from the cat’s body. It’s a shell — the real thing, 357-caliber magnum. That’s powerful. What’s more, it’s not the kind of gun that’s widely available in Japan. Really, it’s quite rare. Which means that, whoever did this to the cat must have the gun, right? This is a serious incident. And in such a quiet residential neighborhood. What do you think? Now it’s not so unusual that the police are involved, is it?”

“I see, that’s horrible. I hope you catch the person soon.”

Conscious of maintaining an expression of mild surprise, I looked the man in the face. Anyone in Japan would likely be a little shocked when they heard the word “gun.” He was studying my face seriously; I could tell that he was trying to read even the slightest shift that registered there. He hastily flashed a smile, as if noticing his own behavior, but the whole thing seemed like an act to me. I had the feeling this guy was convinced of my involvement, and for a moment I was seized with fear, but I knew that I could still keep my cool. So, with feigned detachment but full attention, I waited for what he would say next.

“Do you have a white jacket?”

“What do you mean?”

“A white jacket, you see. A white jacket, about hip length. Do you have one?”

“I do but. .” As I said this, I felt a dull thud in my heart.

“We have someone who heard something that sounded like gunshots that night. Using that date, we could determine when the cat died. And on that day, we have someone who saw a young man wearing a white jacket running near there. The guy who witnessed this works as a clerk in a convenience store. No one wears a jacket like that to go jogging. And, he said that there was something strange about the young man. He said he seemed, you know, very happy. The clerk knew who you were. He said you come into the store often. It would seem that. . that might have been you.”

“But, how did he know my address. .?”

“The parcel delivery service. The same clerk works the convenience store’s parcel delivery service. The sender’s address is clearly specified. The store keeps a duplicate copy on file, in case something goes wrong with the delivery. You used it once to try to send your parents a picture frame. Such a good son, was it for their anniversary or something? But because of the store’s error, it got broken. But you — and I was a little surprised when I heard this — he said you didn’t get angry. On the contrary, you never even looked upset. You never even claimed the amount of the damages — nothing. The clerk who is the eyewitness, he is the person who dropped it. He remembered what happened very clearly. And yet, to this day, you still come in to buy things at the store that was at fault. The clerk knows you. He knows your face, and he also knows the clothes that you usually wear.”

This time, the man wore a different smile than before. It was difficult to keep my cool. But I knew this still wasn’t enough to connect me with the gun.

“When was this? The day the cat was shot. There was definitely a time recently when I was running through the neighborhood. I needed to get back to my apartment right away.”

“Really? What for?”

“Do I really need to say?”

“Yes, for reference.”

I thought a moment, then said, “A girl was waiting for me in my apartment. She was making dinner, but I was running late, so I needed to get home quickly,” I went on. But the man seemed uninterested in my story. His attitude surprised me, since he had been the one to ask me why I had been running.

“Ah, I see,” he said. “Well, then. That doesn’t really concern me. Not at all. There’s just one thing, perhaps you can tell me. I just can’t seem to get it off my mind. At the time, why were you running with your right hand in your pocket? Hardly anyone runs with their hands in their pockets, do they? And why were you so happy? That’s what the store clerk said. That you seemed extremely happy. Happy, and yet, sweating profusely.”

The man fell silent, and I realized that it was now my turn to speak.

“That’s no big deal, is it? I don’t really remember, but if I happened to think about something funny, that’s probably why I was laughing, and I always sweat when I run. I can’t really say. As for my hand being in my pocket, I don’t really remember that either, but there was probably something inside it — like my cell phone — that I didn’t want to fall out. I don’t know.”

The man took out a cigarette and lit it while I was saying this. I could tell that he intended for this conversation to go on for a while, so I said, “I’m busy right now.”

But he ignored me. As if to himself, he said, “Hmm, that’s interesting.” Then he said to me, “Look, uh, why talk about this here? Your neighbors can see us, right? Why don’t you let me inside for a minute — sorry, but it’s getting a little cold.”

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t think so. It’s a mess, and I’m really not comfortable letting a complete stranger into my apartment. I don’t think that’s so unusual.”

“I’m a detective. I’m not going to steal anything.”

“No, it’s not that I suspect you would, but I simply prefer not to. And, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, it’s a pretty vague excuse for trying to invite yourself into my apartment. I think for most people, it’s normal not to want to be involved with the police, isn’t it? Would you please leave now? I’m starting to get angry.”

“Hey, take it easy, just another minute — please listen to what else I have to say,” he said, taking a drag on his cigarette. “In normal situations, at this point I usually just leave. When the person gets annoyed, it makes things difficult. But this time, I can’t do that. Because a gun is involved, there’s no time to lose. This can’t wait until tomorrow. In just one day, something terrible can happen. That’s the truth. I’ve seen these cases too many times. I don’t want to regret this later. You know about the Arakawa River incident, right?”

“What?”

“I’m talking about the man who was found murdered by the Arakawa River. You’re familiar with it, aren’t you?”

I could feel the man’s eyes on me as I tried to contain my growing nervousness. So I gazed back at him, first with a look as if I were trying to recall something, then with an expression conveying puzzlement at what he was saying.

“I saw it on television, but what is that about?”

“The bullet that man was shot in the head with and the bullet that was retrieved from the cat’s body are the same type.”

“Oh, is that so? You mean. . No way, come on! You think someone murdered that cat?”

“Ah, well, listen to what I have to say. This won’t take much longer,” he said, stamping out the cigarette he had dropped on the ground and lighting a new one. I still had the feeling that, as he did so, he was gauging the state I was in. When he’d suddenly brought up the Arakawa murder just now, I suspected that had been his intention all along.

“Would you mind if we moved to a coffee shop or someplace? I doubt you would agree to come down for questioning voluntarily — and that wouldn’t really work for me, either. But if you refuse now, I’ll come back again tomorrow, and I’ll go to your school as well. So wouldn’t it be easier just to dispel any suspicion right here and now?”

He said this to me and then, without waiting for my response, he continued, “I’ll wait a few minutes while you get dressed.”

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do but go with the man to the coffee shop. I felt an almost paroxysmal urge to shoot him with the gun, but I knew what it would mean for me if I did. I closed the door and put the gun in the back of the closet, in case something happened. If he came inside the apartment, I figured he would probably find it anyway, but I didn’t have much time. Then again, he still didn’t have any definitive proof that the gun was in my possession. And without evidence, there was no reason to think that he would be able to search my apartment. And, when I thought about it, there shouldn’t be any such evidence. If that scanty eyewitness testimony was the only thing they had against me, then I found it hard to imagine that it would lead them to me.