Inspector Imanishi Investigates

SEVENTEEN The Loud Speaker Announcement

For two days, Yoshimura had interviewed people connected with the Broadcast Technology Research Center. He asked a lot of questions and received many answers. He had also gone to a number of stores dealing in wireless equipment.

Although the investigation into the case had been for all practical purposes closed months earlier, the station chief now placed great hope in the “voluntary investigation” based on the new evidence Yoshimura had obtained from talking to Imanishi and from his own inquiries.

Imanishi went to the Avant-Garde Theater. The usual clerk came out to meet him.

“Sorry to have bothered you the last time I was here,” Imanishi smiled. “I’ve come to ask you for a little more help.”

“What is it this time?”

“I’d like to meet once again with the wardrobe mistress.”

“That’s no problem at all. She’s here right now.” The clerk called in the wardrobe mistress.

“Thanks for the other day,” Imanishi said. “What you told me that day was very helpful.”

Imanishi was taken to an empty sitting room by the wardrobe mistress, who had perceived that Imanishi’s business needed privacy.

“You said that a costume had disappeared. I suppose it hasn’t been returned since then?”

“No, it hasn’t. Since you asked me about it, I thought I would reconfirm, so I checked through the numbers again. It hasn’t been returned.”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Imanishi said, bowing his head. “Could you please let me borrow the replacement costume, that raincoat, for a few days?”

“You mean lend it to you?” The woman’s expression indicated a problem.

“I’ll take complete responsibility for it. Of course, I’ll write an official receipt for the loan.”

“Our policy is not to allow theater belongings off the premises.” But this was a request from the police. “I guess it’s all right. If you’ll take responsibility for it.”

Imanishi and Yoshimura met that evening at a diner in Shibuya. They both ordered curry and rice and began to eat.

Imanishi heard Yoshimura’s report on his inquiries at the Broadcast Technology Research Center and the shops specializing in wireless materials. Yoshimura explained that a parabola was shaped like a bowl. In transmitting a certain sound wave, if a parabola is used, the waves become condensed and stronger. Imanishi wrote in his notebook the word “parabola.”

Yoshimura continued, “You know, those big saucers stuck on towers on top of tall buildings? That’s what it is. That’s a parabola. Those are very large. When I checked, just as you thought, he had been secretly buying equipment like that from July on. Of course, it’s not just a parabola that he bought. The device used against the peddlers combines a parabola and a tweeter, one of those small speakers for high sounds. I’ve written down the details…”

“Miki was killed in May, and Miyata’s death was August thirty-first, so July is just at the midpoint between the two,” Imanishi noted.

“Yes, it is, just as you surmised, Imanishi-san; so there was plenty of time for preparations.”

“It seems so.” Imanishi nodded, but he did not look pleased. “We’ve got the main outline. The problem is how do we get evidence? Otherwise, it just remains our inference.”

“You’re right about that.”

“It’s a real problem. There must be some way we can get the evidence,” Imanishi said.

“The closer it is to a perfect crime, the less clues there are.”

“It can’t be helped; if we can’t get evidence, we’ll have to resort to tricks.”

“Tricks?”

Imanishi handed Yoshimura a bundle wrapped in newspaper that he had been holding under his arm. “This is a costume I borrowed from the Avant-Garde Theater. It’s the raincoat they bought to replace the one that disappeared. The color and shape are exactly like the one that was stolen, and it was lengthened to fit Miyata.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Yoshimura was bewildered.

“You’re going to wear this raincoat.”

“Where to?”

“To that house, of course. You and I won’t be the only ones going there. We’ll be accompanying the officials in charge of prosecuting violations of broadcast laws.”

“When do you plan to do this?”

“Tomorrow morning about eight o’clock. Your station chief should have been notified, so when you return to your office, you will get instructions.”

“Imanishi-san, will we make it in time?”

“We’ll have to manage somehow.” But Imanishi’s uneasiness showed. “While the scientists and doctors are doing their experiments, you and I have something else to do,” Imanishi said.

“What is that?” Yoshimura asked.

“Let’s think about the circumstances of Miura Emiko’s death. She had a fall, and died after a miscarriage because of the shock from the fall. We thought that she might have miscarried as the result of this fall, but what if we place it earlier?”

“You mean, the miscarriage was preceded by the killing of the fetus by ultrasonic waves?”

“She was subjected to a type of ‘surgery.’ ”

“Why didn’t she go to a legitimate physician?”

“I think the reason she had such an unusual ‘operation’ was because she didn’t want to go to a regular doctor. In other words, Emiko wanted to have the child.”

“Then she was tricked into it?”

“Probably. Sekigawa must have asked for this favor.”

“And she died from it?”

“Yes, she did. I don’t think they intended to kill her. She died because the ‘operation’ failed.”

“Does that mean Sekigawa knew of this device?”

“I think he did. I can’t say when he first found out about it. He may have figured it out because he had doubts about Miyata’s death. If there hadn’t been the problem of Emiko’s pregnancy, his knowledge about this would have given him a permanent advantage over his good friend. You must have noticed that Sekigawa’s reviews of Waga’s music suddenly turned favorable. Sekigawa’s position of advantage was reversed when he asked Waga to ‘operate’ on Emiko.”

At eight o’clock the following morning, five men visited the home of composer Waga Eiryo. It was quiet in the residential area. On the streets, only the commuters walked with quick steps. It was a cold morning, so several of the men wore overcoats. One had on a dirty gray raincoat. A middle-aged woman opened the door as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Good morning,” a tall, young man said to her. “Is the master of the house in?”

“Could I ask who you are?” The woman seemed to be the housekeeper.

“This is who I am.” He gave her his name card. “We would like to see him.”

“The master doesn’t seem to be awake yet…”

“Please excuse me, but could you let him know that we are here to see him?”

Facing five men at once, the housekeeper seemed overwhelmed. She retreated into the house.

Imanishi stood in the entryway and looked around. Directly above the raised step into the house was fixed a small golf ball-sized metallic sphere, a tweeter. Some of the others in the group saw this and nodded to each other.

The housekeeper returned. “Please come in. The master was resting, but he will be able to see you shortly.”

“Excuse us.”

The five men were shown to the Western-style living room. The furnishings were simple but elegant. Sheets of musical scores were piled on the mantelpiece. Some photographs of Westerners were displayed. They did not recognize them.

The others took their coats off, but Yoshimura kept his raincoat on. The five men sat, smoking silently. They heard the distant sound of a door close. Perhaps the master of the house had gone to wash his face after rising. It was so quiet a neighbor’s radio could be heard. They were kept waiting for a full twenty minutes. The sound of slippers was heard, and the door opened. Waga Eiryo appeared wearing a kimono. He had just combed his hair.

“Welcome.” He held the name card the housekeeper had given him.

The five men stood up from their chairs.

“Good morning,” one of them said. “We’re sorry to have come like this so early in the morning.”

“No matter.”

Waga looked around at all of them, as if to clarify their positions. When his eyes came to Yoshimura, they opened wide for an instant.

His glance had not been directed at Yoshimura’s face. Waga’s gaze was fixed intently on the raincoat. For an instant, his eyes betrayed alarm and doubt. Imanishi, sitting unobtrusively amongst the others, watched Waga’s face. Waga’s expression of alarm lasted for a mere few seconds. Imanishi let out a sigh.

Waga sat down facing the five men. He took a cigarette out of the case on the table, his hands shaking slightly. The young composer struck a match and leaned forward to light his cigarette. Smoke rose from the corner of his mouth. This fraction of a moment gave him the time needed to regain his composure.

“Could I ask what you have come here for?” Waga raised his eyebrows and turned his eyes toward the officer who had greeted him.

The man took out a piece of paper folded in thirds from his pocket, “We are most regretful, but I must ask you please to take a look at this.”

Waga opened it and read it without showing any reaction. Then a faint smile appeared on Waga’s face. “You’re saying I have violated broadcast laws?”

“Yes. Recently there have been many cases of violations regarding VHF transmissions. We’re charged with overseeing these cases. So we’ve been using radar to find the source of these transmissions. We have found that your house seems to be the source of some high-frequency electronic waves… Waga-san, do you have such equipment?”

“Well, yes,” Waga responded, with a tight smile. “You may know that my music is what is called electronic music. So I use electronic equipment for experiment and practice. But I haven’t done anything that would violate the broadcast laws.”

“Is that so? But if you have such equipment we’d like to see it, if you don’t mind.”

“Please, go ahead.” Waga seemed unconcerned. “It’s over here; I’ll show you.”

“Thank you.”

All five men stood up. Once again, Waga glanced at Yoshimura.

They followed Waga across an outdoor hallway to a separate wing of the house and into an oval room. Its ceiling and walls were completely sound-proofed, like a broadcasting studio. At one side was a glassed-in area like a broadcasting booth. Half of the small studio was taken up by sound mixing equipment.

“This is quite a set up. Waga-san, we’d like to take a careful look at your equipment now,” said one of the officers. “I am afraid it is necessary to ask you to accompany me to headquarters for further questioning about possible violations of Article four, Section one of the Wireless Telegraphy Act, which requires those intending to establish a broadcasting station to be licensed by the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications.”

Sekigawa Shigeo was also subjected to a long session of detailed questioning by Imanishi and other detectives at his home.

A meeting of the Homicide Division was called. The chief asked Imanishi to summarize. Imanishi stood up to address the team.

“This case has taught us many lessons. The suspect was questioned today with respect to violations of the Wireless Telegraphy Act. We have allowed him to return home this evening, but I remain convinced he is guilty.

“Starting with motive, I cannot help feeling some sympathy for the suspect. Here is a man named Motoura Hideo. His father, Motoura Chiyokichi, contracted leprosy and was divorced by his wife. At this time, he took charge of his only child, Hideo.

“Motoura Chiyokichi led a life of wandering after he became ill, probably trying to find a cure for his disease. In 1938, Motoura, along with his son, Hideo, who was seven years old at the time, arrived in the vicinity of Kamedake, Nita Town, Shimane Prefecture. At that time there was a kindly policeman named Miki Ken’ichi stationed at the Kamedake branch office. Seeing that Motoura was in the terminal stages of his disease, Officer Miki, following the law, arranged for Motoura to enter Jikoen, a sanatorium for leprosy patients. At this time, and according to the regulations, the son, Hideo, was separated from his father, and I assume that Officer Miki arranged for his care at the child-care facility he himself had founded.

“I would like to comment on Officer Miki’s character. He was a very upright policeman. Even now, his good deeds are still talked about.”

Imanishi drank some tea.

“When I went to the location, I heard at great length many anecdotes about his good deeds. I imagine that Officer Miki intended to care for the young boy Hideo after he made arrangements for his disease-ridden father. Perhaps he would even have eventually adopted him, despite his background. Miki was an exceptionally saintly man.

“However, having become accustomed to a wandering way of life, Hideo ran away from Kamedake, despite Officer Miki’s kindnesses, and went off on his own. This is the start of the tragic case that we are investigating…”

Pausing at this point, Imanishi looked around him. All of the men were waiting for his next words with bated breath.

“The whereabouts of Motoura Hideo since that time have remained unknown,” Imanishi continued. “It is thought that he went to the Osaka area. I will go into that later. Officer Miki was promoted to assistant inspector and voluntarily resigned in December 1938. His conduct is something all police officers would do well to emulate.

“Thereafter, Miki-san opened up a general store in Emi-machi in Okayama Prefecture. He adopted his shop boy Shokichi, who married, and lived happily with them during his later years. Here, too, Miki was reputed to be as kind as Buddha.

“This past spring, Miki decided to take a trip to Ise Shrine, which he had long wanted to visit. He left Emi-machi on April 4, and started a leisurely trip, going to Okayama City on the tenth, to Kotohira-cho on the twelfth, and to Kyoto on the eighteenth. We know his itinerary from the postcards he sent to his family from inns at these locations.

“Miki spent the night of May 9 at Futami Inn in Ise City. He happened to go to a nearby movie theater to see some movies. At that theater he saw something. He left the theater that night, but returned the next day to the same theater to confirm what he had seen. What had he seen?

“It was not a movie. It was a commemorative photograph displayed inside the theater. That photograph was of the family of a certain current cabinet minister whom the theater owner respects highly. The group in the photo happened to include a young man who was often at the minister’s home. Reading the description attached to the photograph, Miki discovered that this young man was Waga Eiryo, a prominent young composer.

“This young man’s face reminded Miki of Motoura Hideo, the son of the man with leprosy, whom he had cared for. Hideo was seven years old at the time, and Miki’s recollection must have been hazy, but when he examined the enlarged photograph for a second time, Miki became convinced that this was the missing Hideo. Miki was overcome. He changed his plans for returning home and came to Tokyo.

“I think that Miki may have not quite believed it until he saw the person in the photograph with his own eyes, but there was no mistake. I do not know how their meeting was arranged. We have nothing to go on. It is certain, though, that the two of them did meet. They went to the Torys bar near Kamata Station on May 11 after eleven p.m…

“Motoura Hideo, now Waga Eiryo, had achieved much and was on the brink of attaining even more. Just at that moment, there appeared this figure from the past. Of course, Miki had no ulterior motive. He had come to Tokyo to see the boy whom he had taken under his wing, for whom he felt responsible, the boy whom he’d lost. For Hideo, however, this was a moment of great panic. If he was discovered to have had a father who had suffered from an odious disease and to have falsified his personal history, his engagement would be broken off. No family -especially one like the Tadokoros-would permit a wedding between their daughter and the son of a leper. The alarm and anguish that he must have felt are no doubt inexpressible in words.

“I said that Hideo forged his personal history. When I looked into Waga Eiryo’s personal history, it stated that he was born the oldest son of Waga Eizo and Kimiko, registered domicile, Number 120, 2 Ebisu-cho, Naniwa Ward, Osaka City. The deaths of Waga Eizo and Kimiko are recorded as March 14,1945. This was the day of an extensive air raid that destroyed the entire area of Ebisu-cho, Naniwa Ward. The ward office where the original registers of domiciles were stored, as well as the Bureau of Justice, were reduced to ashes along with all official documents. In such cases, the law allows for the preparation of a family register upon the submission of a request by the person himself. This is what Hideo did. In other words, there was no Waga Eiryo. The family register that was submitted in 1949 was entirely the creation of Motoura Hideo. That an eighteen-year-old boy was able to do this shows that he was quite precocious and ingenious. When one thinks that his motivation was to extricate himself from his disease-ridden father’s family register in order to pave the way for his own future, this boy deserves sympathy.”

The group was solemnly silent as they listened to Imanishi’s words.

“What we know about Hideo’s later life is that he went to a Kyoto Prefectural High School. He left during his second year. After this, he came to Tokyo. His natural talent for music was recognized by Professor Karasumaru of the Arts University, leading to the achievement of the position he has today. He must be considered a very unusual success. From his origins as a mere waif, he has become the new hope of our country’s composing circles. He is a unique figure even among the so-called Nouveau group. Yet it seems clear that to protect his personal standing and to assure his own future, he decided to kill Miki.”

Imanishi continued his briefing.

“I think it more than likely that Waga already intended to kill Miki when he suggested that they go to the bar near Kamata Station. That was why he purposely dressed in casual, inconspicuous clothes. It was at this meeting that Miki was heard speaking with an accent. During his long years of service as a policeman in Nita County, Shimane Prefecture, he had picked up the local accent. This is what the witnesses mistook for a Tohoku accent from northeastern Japan. The investigation was led astray for a time because of this confusion, but we were finally able to discover the truth.

“Waga found out from the newspapers that our investigation was centering on the Tohoku dialect and the name ‘Kameda.’ Realizing that we would eventually investigate Kameda in the Tohoku region, he sent the actor Miyata Kunio there after instructing him to behave suspiciously. Miyata went and did as he was asked without knowing why. This is my conjecture, but I think that Naruse Rieko, a clerk in the Avant-Garde Theater whom Miyata was drawn to, asked him to take on this task.

“Next, Waga invited some of the Nouveau group members to observe a rocket research center in the town of Iwaki. In fact, Waga had urged his friends to go along with him. I think that he went to find out what the effect of Miyata’s actions had been.

“Rieko was Waga’s secret lover. After his crime, she delivered to him a raincoat that Miyata was using as a costume in a play. She also disposed of Waga’s bloodstained shirt.

In mid-June, Waga was hurt in a traffic accident near Sugamo Station. Even his friends wondered why he was riding in a taxi when he usually drove his own car and what he was doing in that section of Tokyo. My supposition is that this accident occurred on his way home from visiting his lover Naruse Rieko in Takigawa. That happened to be the day that Rieko moved there.

“However, after this, she despaired of her lover who was guilty of such a terrible crime, and who had made her an accessory to it. She committed suicide. After Rieko’s death, Miyata began to suspect what his role had been and he confronted Waga.

“Miyata was supposed to meet me in Ginza the evening he died. He went to Waga’s house after he left the theater. I assume that he was shut up in that oval shaped studio and subjected to weird electronic music, which caused psychological confusion. Then, when he started to feel sick, he was given intermittent barrages of ultrasonic waves. I think that Waga knew that Miyata had a weak heart. In order to seal Miyata’s lips, Waga killed him by utilizing electronic music and ultrasonic waves to cause a heart attack. I would like to stress that this is a method of murder that has not existed before.

“One of Waga’s friends is the critic Sekigawa Shigeo. When Sekigawa found out that his lover, a bar hostess named Miura Emiko, was pregnant but refused to have an abortion, he asked Waga’s help in dealing with the situation. From here on, we have Sekigawa’s testimony. He asked for Waga’s help because he had heard Waga say that it was possible to induce abnormal physical conditions through exposure to electronic music. Emiko was brought to Waga’s studio. She ended up like Miyata. I think that, in this case, there was no intent to kill on Waga’s part. He used this method hoping only to cause an abortion. Emiko fell because of a dizzy spell as she left the studio. When she fainted, she fell off the raised outdoor hallway onto the hard concrete underneath.

“It was not only Waga, but also Sekigawa, who was shocked at Emiko’s death. This had to be kept a secret. Sekigawa was placed in Waga’s power. And suddenly, this envious friend and formerly severe critic began to praise Waga’s work.

“This is a brief summary of the evidence gathered so far. The suspect is scheduled to leave Japan from Haneda Airport tomorrow night. I will answer your questions now. Depending on your conclusions, I would like to request a warrant for Waga Eiryo’s arrest.”

There was still almost an hour until the departure of the ten p.m. Pan American flight to San Francisco. The international lobby at Haneda Airport was always filled with cheerful people seeing others off. Tonight, long-haired youths and young girls dressed in colorful clothes stood out among the others. It was an elegant crowd of well-wishers. These people were seeing off the prominent young composer, Waga Eiryo.

The clock pointed to 9:20. Those who had been chatting in the lobby gathered around Waga. This evening, Waga was wearing a new outfit. He had a large rose in his lapel and carried several bouquets under his arm. Beside him stood his fiancée, Tadokoro Sachiko, in a cobalt blue suit. She smiled more than anyone else.

It almost seemed as though they were about to leave on their honeymoon. Tadokoro Shigeyoshi stood next to them, his ruddy face all smiles. Because he was a cabinet minister and a leading politician, other politicians with no connection to the music world were also in attendance. Members of the Nouveau group stood directly in front of Waga. Takebe, Katazawa, and Yodogawa were joined by some others. For some reason, Sekigawa had not come.

They were saying that he must have had some unexpected business to attend to.

Surrounded by many people, Waga gave a speech. His expression was bright. The large flower in his lapel seemed to symbolize his happiness.

The boarding announcement began. “The ten o’clock flight for San Francisco via Honolulu is ready for boarding. Passengers on this flight, please proceed to the departure area.”

A cheer went up. A multitude of arms were raised in waves. Those who were seeing off others stared at the crowd around Waga.

The enormous foreign airliner was already positioned on the apron. The crowd flowed from the lobby to the observation deck. They prepared to wave to Waga as he entered the airliner. The boarding ramp was moved slowly up to the body of the plane.

Waga walked down the hallway reserved for passengers only. On either side of the corridor were sections for customs, visa inspection, currency exchange, and other procedures. Beyond this area was a passenger departure lounge. Here the passengers waited until the stewardess made the boarding announcement.

“It’ll be soon now,” Imanishi said to Yoshimura as they waited outside.

Yoshimura stood shivering slightly, his hands in his pockets and his eyes watching the passageway.

“It’s been a long investigation.” Imanishi let out a sigh. “Hey,” he continued, “you show him the arrest warrant. Grab his arm forcefully.”

“Imanishi-san…” Yoshimura protested.

“Don’t mind me. From now on, it’s the era of you young people.”

The passengers came walking down the passageway in a line. First came a large American couple. People were going through exit procedures: baggage check, passport control, and currency exchange. Those who were finished entered the waiting room.

The lounge was not large. The first passengers entered and sat down.

Imanishi pointed with his chin at a young Japanese man standing in the middle of the line.

A tense Yoshimura approached Waga. “Waga-san.”

Turning to the man who had spoken to him, Waga gave a start when he saw his face. It was the detective in the raincoat who had been among those at his house the previous day.

“Excuse me.” Yoshimura called Waga aside. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Please pardon me.” He led Waga over to where Imanishi stood.

Taking an envelope from his pocket, Yoshimura pulled out the document inside and handed it to the composer. With trembling hands, Waga took the piece of paper and ran his eyes over its contents. It was a warrant for his arrest on suspicion of murder. The blood drained from Waga’s face. His eyes stared vacantly off into space.

“We won’t handcuff you. There’s a police car waiting out front. You are to come with us.” Yoshimura put his arm around Waga as though he were a close friend.

Imanishi stepped to Waga’s other side. He did not say a word. His expression did not change, but his eyes watered slightly.

The other passengers watched with puzzled looks as the three men retraced their steps along the passageway.

On the observation deck, those who had come to send Waga off stood looking down at the large airliner. Lights illuminated the walkway with the intensity of high noon.

The first passenger left the building. The well-wishers all turned toward that person. It was a tall American military officer. Next followed the large American couple, then a short Japanese, a foreign woman with a child, a young Japanese woman in a kimono with a young man, and another foreigner.

Waga was nowhere in sight. One of the first passengers reached the top of the steps and turned around to wave at his friends. The boarding continued. The last person left the building, a fat, elderly foreigner. Sachiko’s face clouded with puzzlement.

Everyone looked bewildered. The Tadokoro family’s expressions became anxious.

At this moment, an announcement was broadcast.

“This announcement is for those seeing off Waga Eiryo who was scheduled to depart on the ten p.m. Pan American flight to San Francisco. Waga-san has been detained by urgent business and will not be boarding this flight. Waga-san will not be boarding this flight…”

The voice was modulated, the cadence of the words was slow. It sounded as lovely as music.