Inspector Imanishi Investigates

TEN Emiko

In the back streets of Ginza was a coffee shop that stayed open until two a.m. After eleven-thirty at night, its customers were mainly hostesses from the nearby cabarets and bars who, after they finished work, would stop by for coffee and pastries before making their way home, relaxing after a tiring night. Some people waited in this coffee shop until after midnight, when the rush to hail taxis after the bars closed subsided. Others came here to meet hostesses with whom they had private arrangements.

Pushing the door open, Emiko entered; she was wearing a kimono. She looked around the shop until she spied Sekigawa, who was sitting in one of the last booths with his back to the entrance.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Slipping off her black lace shawl, Emiko smiled happily at him. “Did you wait long?”

Sekigawa glanced briefly at Emiko and looked away. In the dim light his face seemed morose.

“I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

His coffee cup was nearly empty.

“I’m so sorry,” she said and bowed her head as if to a stranger. “I was impatient to get away, but there was a customer who just wouldn’t leave, so I couldn’t escape. I’m sorry.”

A waitress came to take her order.

“I’d like a lemon tea.”

When the waitress left, Emiko continued. “I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble asking you to come and meet me like this.”

“I’m busy, you know,” Sekigawa said gruffly. “I wish you wouldn’t do this sort of thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Emiko apologized again. “But I really need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Can’t you tell me now?”

“No. I’ll tell you later… Oh, yes, there’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you. I met someone who said he saw you in Akita Prefecture. It must have been about a month ago…” This was a topic that she did not consider to be very important.

“In Akita?” Sekigawa suddenly raised his eyes. They showed more concern than Emiko had anticipated. “Who was that?”

“Remember, a while ago you went to Akita with Waga-san?”

“Oh, yes, we went to see the rocket research center.”

“Yes, that was the time. This person says he saw you at a train station there.”

“Is it someone I know?” Sekigawa asked.

“No, you don’t know him. It’s someone you have no connection with.”

“Why did this topic come up?”

“Apparently he read your piece in the newspaper. He saw your name and photo and said he remembered seeing you there.”

“Is he a customer at your bar?”

“No, that’s not it. He’s my landlady’s brother.”

“Why did such a person mention that to you?”

“We started out talking about ‘musique concrete.’ So I happened to say that I knew you, and we began talking.”

“You told him you knew me?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I told him that you were just a customer who comes to the bar.”

“He doesn’t suspect anything between us?” Sekigawa said with a serious expression.

“No, no.” She smiled to placate him. “How could he know?”

“Don’t talk about me to anyone at all.” Sekigawa’s voice thickened with displeasure.

“Of course, I’m very careful about that.” She looked contrite. “But when your name comes up in conversation, I feel so happy. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“And what does this landlady’s brother do for a living?”

“I asked her that,” Emiko answered, “but she didn’t give me a definite answer. He seemed to be a very nice, kind man.”

“And you have no idea what he does?” Sekigawa pressed.

“I found out. Not from the landlady, but I asked around at the apartment house. I was a bit surprised.”

“What was it?”

“He’s a detective at police headquarters. But he didn’t seem like that at all. He was very friendly and seemed to enjoy talking.”

Sekigawa didn’t respond to this. He took out a cigarette and lit it, silently thinking.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed the bill.

Looking at her unfinished tea, Emiko said, “Why don’t we stay here a little longer?”

“If you want to talk, I’ll listen somewhere else.”

“All right,” she said docilely.

“You go out first and hail a taxi.”

Nodding, Emiko quietly stood up from her seat and left the coffee shop.

Two minutes later Sekigawa stood up. He walked to the register with his head bent down so as not to be recognized by people sitting in the other booths.

When he got outside, Emiko was waiting with a cab. Sekigawa entered the taxi first. The two of them sat silently for a while, looking ahead. Emiko quietly stretched out her hand and grasped Sekigawa’s fingers, but he gave no response.

“Was it unwise of me to mention you? If that’s what’s made you angry, please forgive me,” Emiko apologized, looking at his darkened profile.

“You’re going to have to move from that apartment,” Sekigawa said eventually.

“What did you say?” Emiko asked, thinking she might have misunderstood his words.

Sekigawa repeated, “You’ll have to move from that apartment.”

“Why?” Emiko asked, her eyes wide. “I just moved in. I’ve only been there two months,” she said in a dejected voice. “Did I do something bad by chatting with the people there? Is that why I need to move away?”

Sekigawa did not give her an answer. Instead, he continued to smoke as if he were displeased.

After a while, he asked, “Has that detective been there often?”

“It seemed like it was the first time since I moved in.”

“When you had your conversation, was it you who started it?”

“No, it wasn’t. The landlady invited me in for a cup of tea. When I went to her apartment, her brother was visiting. We started talking while we were having tea.”

“So the detective had her call you over.”

Emiko had not expected these words. “I’m sure it was a coincidence. I don’t think you should be so suspicious.”

“It doesn’t matter which it was,” Sekigawa said. “At any rate, I want you to move out of that apartment. I’ll find some other place for you.”

Emiko knew what he was thinking. Sekigawa was always worried that his relationship with her would become known to others.

“If you don’t like my present apartment, I’ll move,” she said, giving in.

Sekigawa stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

He was in a bad mood and she wanted to coax him out of it. Emiko needed him to be in a good mood, especially tonight.

“The nights are already so chilly,” she said.

Sekigawa was still silent.

They could see the neon lights of Akasaka. On the right was a large new hotel.

“Oh, look.” Emiko had been looking out the window, and suddenly poked Sekigawa’s knee. “Isn’t that Waga-san?”

Next to the hotel was a nightclub with its entrance lit up. Luxury cars were parked in front of the club. Among the customers leaving the club was Waga Eiryo.

“Hmm,” Sekigawa said, looking out.

“He’s with a pretty woman. Is she his fiancée?”

“Yes. That’s Tadokoro Sachiko.”

Their attention was held by Waga and Sachiko who stood waiting for a car. Their taxi sped by the standing figures.

“They seem so happy,” Emiko said with a sigh. “They’re getting married soon, aren’t they? And before they do, they’re enjoying going out together,” Emiko said with envy.

“Who knows,” Sekigawa said.

“What do you mean? They seem so happy together.”

“Right now, yes. But no one knows what will happen tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t say such things. He’s your friend; why can’t you be happy for him?”

“Of course, I’d like to be happy for him. It’s because I’m his friend that I don’t want to say the standard, trite things.”

“Did something happen?” Emiko looked at Sekigawa’s profile with a worried expression.

“No, nothing,” Sekigawa answered. “But Waga is quite ambitious, so who knows if he really loves her. His target may be her father, Tadokoro Shigeyoshi, and his own road to glory with that man’s backing. Do you think that will make her happy?”

“If there is love, then wouldn’t it be all right?”

“I wonder.” Sekigawa seemed not to like what he was hearing. “If that kind of love lasts, I suppose it could be called happiness.”

“But I’m envious. Even if you’re right, the two of them can go anywhere they like together. You and I are always meeting in secret.”

Without replying, Sekigawa watched the darkened scenery of the Aoyama district go by outside the window.

The other side of Roppongi intersection was dotted with restaurants specializing in Russian, Italian, Austrian, Hungarian, and other cuisines. As they were operated by foreigners, journalists had nicknamed the area “the international settlement.” Some of these restaurants stayed open until three o’clock in the morning.

Sekigawa ordered the taxi to stop in front of a restaurant with its light on. Up a red-carpeted set of stairs there was a spacious dining area.

“Welcome.” A waiter guided them to the back.

The dining area was divided into two rooms. Several young couples were seated in the rear section.

Sekigawa ordered a highball.

“What about you?”

“I’d like to have an orange juice,” Emiko answered.

The waiter departed.

“What is it that you want to talk to me about?” Sekigawa asked, his gaze fastened on Emiko.

The other couples were also talking in low voices. At this hour, there was no music and no sound from the street. The late night restaurant was enveloped in its own special atmosphere.

Pressed by Sekigawa, Emiko couldn’t at once come out with the next words. She bowed her head and fidgeted.

“You called me during the day, so I thought it was something important and made a special effort to come out tonight. I wish you’d hurry up and tell me what it is.”

“I’m sorry.” It was about telephoning him that she apologized. Sekigawa often told her that he did not want her to call him. Even so, Emiko did not continue. The waiter served them; she sipped her juice through a straw, eagerly.

“Did you have too much to drink tonight?” Sekigawa asked, watching her face.

“No.” Emiko shook her head slightly.

“You seem to be awfully thirsty.”

“Yes.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

As Sekigawa drank his highball, the waiter brought over an appetizer. It was a plate of smoked salmon. Emiko stared at it.

Noticing her gaze, Sekigawa offered the dish to her. “Eat some if you like.”

“Thank you. I’ll just take this.” Emiko pierced the slice of lemon on the plate with a toothpick. Putting it into her mouth, she ate it as if it were delicious.

“Does such a sour thing taste good to you?” Sekigawa asked, watching her.

At this moment, Sekigawa’s expression changed. He had realized something. He glared at Emiko. Suddenly shifting his chair around, he moved close to sit next to her.

“You,” he said softly in her ear, “can’t possibly be…”

Emiko turned bright red. Her hand stopped moving. She sat perfectly still.

“So that’s it.” Sekigawa was still looking at her intently.

Without uttering a word, Emiko nodded.

Sekigawa said nothing further. Looking away from her, he tightened the grip on his glass.

“It’s really true? There’s no mistake?” he asked after some time.

“Yes,” Emiko said.

“How far along is it?”

The answer to this question also took a while. Calling up her courage, Emiko answered, “It’s almost four months.”

Sekigawa clenched the glass so tightly that it nearly broke. “You fool.” He spoke in a deliberately low voice. “Why didn’t you say anything about it before now?”

He focused on the hair of her downcast forehead.

“I was afraid that it would end up like the last time,” she said.

“Of course,” he said, drinking a mouthful of highball. “That’s the obvious solution.”

“No, it’s not.” Emiko raised her head. Her eyes showed a determination she had not displayed so far. “I did as you said before, but now I regret it.”

“Regret it?”

“Yes. You wouldn’t listen to what I said. You don’t know how disappointed I felt. But this time… this time I’m going to do what I want.”

“You can’t,” Sekigawa said. “What are you saying? Where’s your common sense? It was because you did as I said that nothing happened that time before. If we acted according to your selfish wishes, it would have been a tragedy.” Sekigawa let out his breath and continued, “It’s not something to be decided on the basis of temporary sentiment or excitement. You have to be more realistic. For one thing, think about the child that will be born. How unfortunate that child will be…”

“No,” she resisted strongly. “This time I’m going to have my way.”

There was something so determined in her voice that Sekigawa could not continue.

“Please, just this once listen to what I want,” she pleaded, despite the harsh expression on his face. “It’s the second time. The first time I did as you said. But now I know that it was wrong. No matter what happens, I’ll take responsibility.”

“Responsibility?” Sekigawa looked at Emiko in a displeased manner. “What are you saying?”

“I’ll raise the child all by myself.”

“Don’t be unreasonable,” he said in a disagreeable voice. “Do you think you should act out of such sentimentality? It will only lead to misfortune.”

“I don’t care. I don’t have to be happy. I’ll be content just having the proof of your love and raising the child.”

Sekigawa looked aside, exasperated. Then he swallowed the rest of his highball. The pieces of ice clinked against each other.

Emiko was looking downward sadly.

Sekigawa said, “I’ll never agree. I want you to do as I say. You’re just being silly. You haven’t even thought of what will happen in the future. If you do this, you’re the one who’ll regret it.”

“No, I never will,” Emiko said, looking stubborn. “That won’t happen. I intend to have it.”

Sekigawa adopted a placating tone. “Emiko, I can understand how you feel. But you can’t solve anything with love alone. What you think you want can turn out to have unexpected, opposite results.”

Emiko asked sadly, “Do you love me?”

“You know how I feel.”

“Then… then you shouldn’t say such things.” Her shoulders heaved up and down as she breathed and her face was pale. “You should agree to what I want.” Her low voice wavered as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Emiko.” Suddenly gentle, Sekigawa patted her shoulder. “Let’s go. Let’s go and talk this over as we think about it together.”

Emiko pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.

The area was absolutely silent with no people around. It was a quiet street even in the daytime. On either side stretched the long walls surrounding large houses. The street was a steep hill laid with cobblestones. Street lamps etched patterned shadows onto its surface.

Sekigawa stuck both of his hands deep into his coat pockets. Emiko was close at his side, her hand through his arm. Their two shadows moved slowly down the sloping street. Occasional taxi headlights passed, lighting up the couple.

“You say you can’t give it up?” Sekigawa was very displeased.

Emiko pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Her apology did not hide the inner strength of her conviction. “This time I won’t change my mind.” Knowing that Sekigawa would be annoyed with her words, Emiko repeated, “I won’t ever cause any problems for you.” Her voice was full of entreaty.

“Problems?” Sekigawa walked facing straight ahead. “I’m not talking only about the problems it would cause me. I’m also thinking about you.”

The sloping street went downhill and then started to rise again. This area housed foreign embassies hidden behind trees.

“Are you really sure?” Sekigawa asked her.

Emiko was silent. Her silence told him that her mind was made up.

Sekigawa sighed in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quavering. “I’ll never mention your name.”

“I guess it can’t be helped,” Sekigawa said simply.

“What?” Emiko raised her head in surprise.

“I’m saying it can’t be helped.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I’ll have to go along with you.” Sekigawa said this as if he were speaking his thoughts out loud.

“Then you’ll forgive me for my selfishness?” Emiko breathed more freely, but she still curbed her happiness.

“I lose,” he spat out. “I’ve been defeated by your stubbornness.”

For the first time, Emiko squeezed his arm with all her might. She suddenly became lively.

“I’m glad.” She grabbed Sekigawa’s arm and swung it back and forth. “I’m so glad.”

She clung to him with her body. Then she buried her face in his chest. Her shoulders quivered.

“What are you doing? Are you crying?” Sekigawa put his hand on her obi and embraced her. The tone of his voice had softened.

She actually was crying softly. Her head, cheeks, and shoulders were shaking with her emotions. A sweet odor rose from the back of her white neck, which showed against her collar.

“I’m sorry,” Sekigawa said gently. “If you’re so determined, I won’t say any more. I’ll cooperate with you as much as I can.”

“Really?” she asked in a tearful voice.

“Yes, really. I was probably too harsh in the way I spoke to you.”

“No, you weren’t.” She shook her head vigorously. “I understand very well how you feel. That’s natural, I think. But, just this time, I want to protect my own life, actually the life that will pass on from you…” Emiko could not continue because she was so wrought up, and her lips quivered.

With a sudden motion, Sekigawa pulled her shoulders toward him and pressed his lips to hers. The tears flowing down her cheeks felt cold to him.

The tall trees trailed over the wall beside them. In the darkness of the shade of the trees, they stood embracing for a long time. Suddenly automobile headlights swept the figures of the couple. The two pulled apart and began walking.

“You don’t have to worry,” Sekigawa encouraged Emiko. “I’ll do all that I can. But in exchange,” he continued as he walked along, “could you do as I ask? You’ll have to quit the club right away.”

To Emiko, these words seemed an unexpected kindness.

“But I feel fine,” she responded cheerfully.

“No, now is the most important time. You don’t want to take any chances. What would you do if you became ill?”

“Well, yes.” Emiko took out her handkerchief and wiped her tears.

“You should tell the madam at the club tomorrow and quit. You can give as your reason something else and say that you want to stop working there.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Emiko’s step became brisk, a complete change from five minutes before.

“So, it’s all set. Now that it’s decided, it’ll work out,” Sekigawa said.

When Imanishi arrived home early for a change, he heard his sister’s voice in the back room.

“Welcome home,” his wife greeted him at the entrance. “Oyuki-san is here.”

Imanishi took off his shoes without a word and stepped up into the house.

“Brother, I’ve come for a visit,” his sister greeted him.

“Right. Thanks for having me over the other day.”

He changed his clothes with his wife’s help.

“That’s what I’ve come about today.”

“What do you mean?”

“That bar hostess you were asking about, she suddenly moved out of her apartment.”

“What?” Imanishi stopped untying his necktie. “She’s moved? When was that?”

“It was yesterday afternoon.”

“Yesterday afternoon? She’s not at your place anymore?”

“No. I was surprised, too. She brought it up yesterday, all of a sudden. I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”

“Where did she go?”

“She said she was moving to the Senju area.”

“Where in Senju?”

“I didn’t get details.”

“You fool,” Imanishi unexpectedly yelled at his sister. “You should have told me earlier. Why didn’t you contact me right away at headquarters?”

“Was she that important?” His sister was surprised.

“You wouldn’t understand. It would have been much more helpful if you had told me while she was in the middle of moving than telling me about it now. And if you don’t know where she moved to, what good is that?”

Having been scolded by her brother, Imanishi’s sister looked unhappy. “You didn’t say anything, so I thought it would be all right if I told you about it later.”

Imanishi had not expected Emiko to move again only two months after she had moved into his sister’s apartment building.

“Which moving company did she use?”

“I don’t know.” It seemed that his sister had not paid much attention.

“You’re really hopeless.” Imanishi tightened the knot on his necktie that he has loosened. “Hey, my jacket.”

“Are you going out again?” Yoshiko asked, looking at him in surprise.

“I’m going right to her house.”

“My goodness.” His wife and sister exchanged looks. “I’m getting supper ready. Oyuki-san just arrived a little while ago. Why don’t you go later?”

“I’m in a hurry. Oyuki,” Imanishi said to his sister, “let’s go to your place right away. I want to find out where she moved to.”

“Did that woman do something wrong?” his sister asked.

“No, it’s not that she did something wrong. But there’s something that’s bothering me. And we might be able to find out where she went if we make the effort right now.”

Oyuki showed Imanishi to the second floor, which was divided into five units. Emiko’s had been the one farthest back. Oyuki opened the door and turned on the light. It was a room that got the afternoon sun from the west, fading the tatami. The areas that had been covered by furniture were a darker color. All that was left in the room were the things Emiko no longer needed. In the corner of the closet she had left empty cosmetic and soap boxes, old folded newspapers, and old magazines. She had left the room neat and tidy.

“She was a quiet, nice girl,” Oyuki told her brother. “When I heard that she was a bar hostess, I thought she might be sloppy. But she was much more concerned about neatness than most people.”

Imanishi spread the old newspapers and magazines on the tat-ami. There was nothing unusual about them. The magazines were reviews usually read by intellectuals. Taking one of them, Imanishi flipped through the pages. He then opened it to the table of contents and scanned it. He looked at the other magazines. He opened them to the tables of contents and read through them. He nodded. Next, he looked at the empty boxes. Inside were sheets of old wrapping paper that had been neatly folded. These also showed how tidy Emiko was.

As he was checking through the boxes, he discovered a box of matches. It was from a bar. Imanishi read the name on the label, “Club Bonheur.”

“Is that where she worked?” Imanishi showed his sister the matchbox, printed in yellow letters on a black background.

“It might be. She never told me the name of the bar.”

Imanishi put the empty matchbox in his pocket. He didn’t find anything else.

“Which moving company came to pick up her things when she moved out yesterday?”

“I didn’t notice which one.”

“But you saw the movers, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I saw them. She and a man carried her things from this room to the van outside.”

“Where are the closest movers?”

“There are two near the station.”

Imanishi went downstairs. He went straight to the entryway and put on his shoes.

“Are you leaving already?” his sister said in surprise.

“Yes,” he said as he tied his shoelaces.

“You’ve come all this way. Why don’t you have some tea at least?”

“I can’t take the time.”

“Are you in that big a hurry?”

Finishing with his shoelaces, Imanishi straightened up.

“If Miura-san comes back, shall I ask her anything?” his sister said.

“Hm,” Imanishi said, without much enthusiasm. “I don’t think she’ll come back here.”

“Really?”

“She found out that I work for the police. That’s why she moved out so suddenly.”

“But I didn’t say anything to her.”

“Then she must have heard from someone in the building.”

“Does that mean that she has something to hide?” his sister asked, her eyes wide.

“I can’t tell one way or the other yet. On the off chance that she does come around, find out what you can.”

Imanishi walked quickly to the station. He first went to the Yamada Moving Company.

Imanishi showed his police identification. “Did you go to a house called Okada to pick up some items yesterday afternoon? It’s an apartment building, and the person who was moving is named Miura.”

“Let me check.” The clerk went into the back room to ask one of the employees.

“It doesn’t appear to have been us,” the clerk answered, returning to the front. “If we had done the job, we should be able to tell right away, since it was only yesterday. It may have been Ito Movers just down the street.”

“Thank you very much.”

Imanishi entered the other shop and asked the same question.

“Yesterday, you say? I don’t remember anything like that,” the clerk said. “Just to make sure, let me ask our workers.”

The clerk returned. “We didn’t take that job. But one of our men saw someone moving things out when he passed by that address.”

Imanishi asked the young mover, “Do you know which moving company it was?”

“Yes, I do. Their name was written in big characters on the side of the van. It’s one in Okubo called Yamashiro Moving Company.”

“Do you know where in Okubo?”

“It’s right in front of the station. You’ll see it right away if you go out the west exit.”

According to his sister, Emiko had said she was moving to Senju. Senju and Okubo were located in entirely different directions.

Walking out the west exit of Okubo Station, Imanishi saw a large sign for the Yamashiro Moving Company half a dozen storefronts down the main street, just as the young mover had said. It was nighttime, but when he approached the shop, he could see that there were still people inside.

A woman clerk, who had been examining a ledger, stood respectfully as she listened to Imanishi’s question.

“Oh, yes, Miura-san,” she responded.

“Do you know where her things were taken?”

“I’m afraid we didn’t deliver them to the new location.”

“What does that mean?”

“At her request, we brought her belongings here.”

“Here?” Imanishi looked around the dimly lit space, but did not see anything.

“Yes, but then someone came to pick up her things.”

“You brought her things here and unloaded them, and then someone came to pick them up again?”

“Yes, that’s right. It was a bother for us, too, so we weren’t happy about it. Fortunately, her belongings were called for right away.”

“Was it this woman named Miura who came to pick them up?”

“No, it wasn’t a woman. It was a man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight.”

“Did he come in a van?”

“Yes, he did. But it was a small van, so he had to make two trips.”

“Was there a name written on the van?”

“No. It wasn’t from a moving company, it was a private van.”

“You said the man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight?” Imanishi asked, “What did he look like? For example, was he thin or fat; what was his hair like?”

“Let me think… I seem to remember him as being very thin,” the woman clerk answered after a few moments.

“No, he wasn’t that thin,” a man who was in the room put in. “He was quite stocky.”

“Was he?” The woman clerk was unsure now.

“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t that stocky.” Another man put in his opinion. “His hair was carefully parted. His coloring was light and he wore glasses.”

“He wasn’t wearing any glasses,” the woman clerk retorted immediately.

“Yes, he was.”

“I don’t think he was wearing any.” She turned toward the other man, asking for confirmation from him.

“He could have been wearing glasses, but then again maybe he wasn’t.”

Each of them gave a different description of the man’s features. The move had taken place just the day before, and already their memories were contradictory.

Imanishi changed his line of questioning. “You said he came to load up twice?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Where did he say he was taking the things?”

“I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Then about how much time passed between the time he left with the first load and the time he came for the second load?”

“Let me see. I think it was about three hours.” On this point, there was no disagreement.

“Thank you very much.”

Imanishi boarded a streetcar at Okubo Station and went to Ginza. On the train he did some thinking.

Imanishi arrived at Club Bonheur at about nine o’clock. The writing on the matchbox in his pocket had given him the address. When he pushed open the door, the dim light was hazy with cigarette smoke.

“Welcome.”

Imanishi took a seat at the bar.

The booths were packed with customers. It appeared to be a popular spot. Ordering a highball, Imanishi casually glanced around the room. There seemed to be about ten hostesses, wearing either Western clothes or kimonos. He couldn’t tell which one was Emiko. Because he was sitting at the counter, no hostess came to take care of him.

Imanishi asked the bartender. “Is Emiko-san here?”

“She quit yesterday,” the bartender answered, with a polite smile.

“What? Yesterday?” Imanishi was shocked.

“Yes.”

“That was sudden,” Imanishi muttered. He had counted on finding her here.

“That’s right. We were very surprised. But she insisted on giving notice, so, finally, the madam accepted it.”

“Did she say anything about going to a different bar?”

“No, it wasn’t that. She said she wanted to go back to her family for a while.”

“Is that true?”

The bartender grinned and replied, “I wonder. But I wouldn’t know.”

“Is the madam here?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Could you please call her over?” Imanishi said in a low voice, as he showed him his police identification.

The bartender’s demeanor changed. He bowed to Imanishi, then he hurried around the end of the bar and went toward the booths. The bartender returned with the madam. She was a tall, sexy-looking woman of about thirty. She was wearing a stylish kimono.

“Welcome,” she said in a charming tone of voice.

“Sorry to interrupt your work. I’d just like to ask a few questions. I understand that one of your girls, Emiko, quit yesterday?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Do you know what caused her to leave?”

“She said that she planned to go back to her hometown. It was so sudden, I was really surprised. She’s been at this club for quite a while and had many customers, so it puts me on the spot to have her leave. When I told her that, she pleaded with me, nearly in tears, so I finally agreed to let her go even though she hadn’t given proper notice. Is Emiko in trouble?”

“No, it’s not that. I wanted to ask her some questions. Do you know where she lives?”

“She mentioned something about Kawaguchi.”

“She moved out of there yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.” She seemed truly surprised.

“What kind of customers did Emiko have?”

“Let me see. She had all kinds. She was quiet, and seemed to be naive, so her customers were mostly quiet ones.”

“Was there a Sekigawa-san among her customers?”

“Sekigawa-san? Oh, you mean of the Nouveau group?”

“Yes, that’s the person.”

“He used to ask for Emiko by name quite a while ago, but not recently.”

“When you say ‘quite a while ago,’ how long ago do you mean?”

“It must have been about a year ago, now.”

“Hasn’t he been in at all since then?”

“He hardly ever comes now. Maybe once every two months or so, and usually with other people.”

“Was there anything special between this Sekigawa-san and Emiko?” Imanishi asked the madam.

“I wouldn’t know. He did ask for her once, but I don’t know what happened after that.”

“Could it be that he stopped coming because their relationship was secretly becoming more intimate?”

“I suppose so. The girls who work at places like this often have their lovers avoid their bars. So that may have been the case with Emiko as well.” The madam said this much and then asked Imanishi, “Was Sekigawa-sensei really on close terms with Emiko?”

“I don’t know.” Imanishi didn’t want to be pushed on this point.

“Did something peculiar happen between Sekigawa-sensei and Emiko?” the madam continued to ask.

“No, not that I know of. It’s not anything Emiko-san did. As I said before, I came here because I just wanted to ask her some questions.”

“I can’t believe that Sekigawa-sensei had something going with Emiko,” the madam said doubtfully.

“Well, it isn’t clear that he did,” Imanishi said to prevent the conversation from becoming more confused. “If she comes by, please let me know her new work place and address.”

He left Club Bonheur feeling that he had been put in a difficult position. As he walked Ginza’s back streets, he realized his own contradictory thoughts. Neither Emiko nor Sekigawa was the object of his investigation. It was absurd for him to be pursuing them. Yet he could not figure out Emiko’s sudden move from his sister’s place. He connected this hurried move to the fact that she had found out he was a detective. The elaborate precautions she took in moving were suspicious. She appeared to be hiding something. But strange behavior wasn’t reason enough for a detective to pursue her.

He did, however, feel a certain foreboding regarding Emiko’s whereabouts. He didn’t have any specific reason, just a premonition. In terms of crime prevention, the police were absolutely powerless. It was only after the damage had been done that the police could move in. He couldn’t investigate on premonition alone.