Occupied City

The Ninth Candle — The Thirty-six Wounds of a Second Detective, N

Act I

1. The city is a wound the city is a wound THIS CITY IS A WOUND In the half-burnt pages of my half-destroyed notebooks in the half-said whispers of the half-heard voices IN THESE HALF-REMEMBERED MEMORIES OF THIS HALF-FORGOTTEN DETECTIVE In the Occupied City in the Occupied City IN THE OCCUPIED CITY We uncover the murders of 169 new-born babies in a maternity home in Shinjuku they parade the guilt of 28 soon-dead men in a court house in Ichigaya THEY WILL FIND YOU GUILTY AND THEY WILL HANG YOU, UNTIL YOUR BLADDER EMPTIES AND YOUR NECK BREAKS My father is dead and my mother has remarried your wife was once a whore, and she is a whore again IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS Even the Emperor has married again, in his top hat and tails, an American General, with a pipe in his mouth your child is not your child WE ARE ALL WHORES I hate all Americans your family is cursed, your house is cursed IN THE RUINS OF THE CITY, IN THE EYES OF THE DEAD I took their job, I take their money the ground beneath is hollow ground THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS I sharpen pencils, I write reports under your chair, under your desk WHAT WILL YOU FIND In my unstable chair, at my untidy desk something is moving, moving behind you, moving beneath you THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS The telephone rings from a music box, what is that tune WHO WILL YOU FIND The clock strikes that familiar, scratched tune GOOD DETECTIVE, BAD DETECTIVE And the case begins, this last case begins a light glowing above the city, a fire raging across the town DON’T LOOK BEHIND YOU On January 26, 1948 it’s coming your way, don’t look behind you IN THE SILENCE, NOTHING BUT SILENCE The telephone, the clock, and this last case it makes you hold your breath AS THOUGH THE WORLD WAS DEAD

2. Across the Occupied City, in our borrowed cars you follow a tune, the sound of scratching IN HEAVY BANDAGES Roads turn to mud, mud turns to rivers across the city, through the night FROM OPEN WOUNDS Snow turns to sleet, sleet turns to rain, turns to sleet again sudden, oncoming headlights, American, blinding headlights THE SCENE OF THE CRIME There are ambulances, there are crowds crawling down the street, on her hands and on her knees THEY STAND, THEY STARE Former soldiers standing in their white robes and khaki-caps, feral children hanging from the branches of the shrine-trees raving about poison, asking for help THEY ARE THE SPECTATORS, WE ARE THE SPECTACLE The Nagasaki Shrine to my right, the Teikoku Bank to my left the sound of scratching, from under the ground THE SPECTACLE, THE CRIME I put out my cigarette, I follow the other detectives, up the steps, into the bank for hell has found us, as hell always finds us THE SCENE OF THE CRIME Down the narrow passages, through the heavy furniture dragging it with us, every place we go IN THE LIDLESS GAZES Between the empty chairs, the rows of desks on our hands and on our knees OF THE RECENTLY DEAD The cash on the desks, in piles, the vomit on the floor, in pools we should tidy, we should clean, straighten the room, wash the cups I STAND, I STARE In the corridor, on the mats, in the bathroom, on the tiles you follow a tune, the sound of scratching I AM THE SPECTATOR, THEY ARE THE SPECTACLE Ten bodies, ten corpses the sound of whispering, the sound of weeping THE CRIME, THE SPECTACLE The clock on the wall, its black hands still moving every place we go, dragging it with us IN HEAVY WINTER CLOTHES Their hands raised, frozen and petrified, at their throats on our hands, on our knees FROM OPEN HUNGRY MOUTHS These men, these women, this child, they died in agony, they died in fear, they died in silence, fallen on each other, lying side by side, faces up and faces down not speaking, but moaning THE SPECTACLE OF THE CRIME

3. I stand in the Seibo Catholic Hospital, by the beds of the four survivors crawling out of hell, on their hands, on their knees THE CRIME SCENE IN MY MIND Nuns stick hoses down their throats, doctors pump out their stomachs down the bank’s corridors, into the bank’s genkan THE CASH ON THE DESKS, THE VAULT DOORS WIDE OPEN I watch them cough, I watch them wretch, fluid and bile through the doors, into the street, the snow and the mud NOTHING OUT OF PLACE, NOTHING BUT THEIR BODIES I wait for them to wake, I wait for them to speak on their hands, on their knees THE SOUND OF RUNNING WATER, THE DIRTY CUPS BEING WASHED Beside their beds, beside their lips it was the drink, it was medicine, a doctor, dysentery THE CRIME SCENE CONTAMINATED

4. I turn the corner into my street what fine men, straight as trees I CAN HEAR HER VOICE, I CAN READ HER THOUGHTS I see my wife, her child strapped to her back, standing with her friend that one gave you a very friendly eye HER LASCIVIOUS VOICE, HER WANTON THOUGHTS They are watching the American soldiers passing in their jeeps look at you, your shining eyes NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING Having fun, I ask that child is not your child SKIN UPON SKIN, FLESH INTO FLESH What are you doing here, she asks, shouldn’t you be at work mist rises from under the ground, black smoke from their American ovens NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I say, I was in the neighbourhood, why their fog follows me, follows me to work, follows me back home AMERICAN SKIN UPON JAPANESE SKIN, AMERICAN FLESH INTO JAPANESE FLESH Why nothing, she says, come home, I’ll make you something to eat he thinks too much, his mind wound tight NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I can’t come home, I say, I’m still on duty it is always so dark, he is always so haunted HER WORRIED VOICE, HER FRIGHTENED THOUGHTS Is something the matter with you, she asks, you look so distracted he never even looks at his own child, he will go mad from his own thoughts I HEAR HER VOICE, I READ HER THOUGHTS Nothing is the matter, I say, but I must go no sunshine, no streetlights, only clouds, only shadows ALL THEIR VOICES, ALL THEIR THOUGHTS

5. Wake up, Detective N., says Detective Inspector H., shaking my shoulders, kicking my chair bones aching, chest hurting IN THE OCCUPIED CITY I sit up, I cough twice eyes smarting, ears ringing WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE We’ve just received a report of a body, sounds like a suicide, at an inn in Shiinamachi, near to the Teikoku Bank from the smoke, from the tune THERE IS NO RESISTANCE Take Detective K. and go check it out, says Detective Inspector H., handing me an address on a scrap of paper from the music-box, the American ovens THERE IS NO UNDERGROUND We walk down Mejiro-dōri, we cross over Yamate-dōri, then we turn left into the Nagasaki neighbourhood, looking for the Kiraku Inn in Shiinamachi 5-chōme the smell of burning, the sound of scratching IN THIS CITY OF COLLABORATORS There is an ambulance outside the inn and a doctor stood with the owner of the inn and his wife outside the rooms, inside the rooms IN THIS CITY OF TRAITORS They lead us up a narrow, steep staircase, then down a long, dark corridor to a closed door at the back of the inn biting, chewing, devouring EVERY WIDOW IS NOW FOR SALE He’s in here, says the owner as he slides opens the thin stained door to a small dim room and a body on a futon, the quilt pulled back, the body clothed you can always hear their teeth EVERY WIDOW, EVERY WIFE, EVERY WOMAN It looks to me like a suicide by potassium cyanide, says the doctor, and I read in the newspaper that you believe the killer at the Teikoku Bank may have used potassium cyanide, so I stressed this when I reported the death for everything decays, decomposes and dies IN THE MARKET PLACE, IN THE SHOP WINDOW I walk over to the window, I slide back the screen how many bodies, how many rooms OLD BODIES, FRESH MEAT The body is dressed in a grey sweater, a khaki coat, and black serge trousers in rooms that are not yours TWO-FACES, TURN-COATS A black overcoat hangs by the door, a wallet lies on the floor beside the futon you open doors, you enter rooms ON THEIR KNEES, ON THEIR BACKS I pick up the wallet, I open up the wallet, ¥100 inside the wallet how many rooms that were not yours, how many bodies that were not yours MY WIFE, MY MOTHER He gave his name as Yokobe Kunio, says the owner, and his profession as a company official from Komagawa-mura, Iruma-gun, Saitama Prefecture from room to room, from body to body IN THE SHOP WINDOW, IN THE MARKET PLACE And he arrived here when, I ask in the black fog, in the black mist FOR A NEW MAN, FOR A NEW LIFE About 9:30 p.m. last night, says the owner in your eyes, in your ears IN A NEW COUNTRY, IN A NEW CITY How long do you think he’s been dead, Detective K. asks the doctor the sound of whispering, the sound of scratching THEIR RINGS LOOSE, THEIR LEGS OPEN Not very long, replies the doctor, he’s still warm from the American ovens, from the music-boxes IN THIS COUNTRY OF NO RESISTANCE He’s better off than me then, laughs Detective K. among the smoke, among the tunes IN THIS CITY OF NO RESISTANCE How did you discover him so quickly, I ask the owner you are always so suspicious, you are always so jealous I HATE THE LOSERS, I HATE THE VICTORS The owner shakes his head, then looks at his wife, and he says, She did her eyes will wander, her legs will wander I HATE ALL AMERICANS, I HATE ALL CAUCASIANS I couldn’t sleep last night, says the wife, I had such terrible dreams, dreams about the Teikoku Bank, I had a bad feeling, a bad feeling about him no father for her child, no provider for her needs THE WHITE STARS ON THEIR JEEPS, THE WHITE TEETH IN THEIR MOUTHS I point at the body, and I ask the wife, A bad feeling about him you are never here, you are always gone WHITE SKIN ON YELLOW SKIN, WHITE FLESH IN YELLOW FLESH She nods, About him what does she see in him WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE I stare at her, in her monpe trousers, in her heavy sweater, and I ask, Why this woman is much younger than her husband IN THIS CITY OF COLLABORATORS The wife shakes her head, the wife closes her eyes, then the wife slowly says, Last night, I passed him in the corridor, and he suddenly squeezed my arm, and said he had come to see his friend, but his friend was not here she could have any man she wants IN THIS CITY OF TRAITORS He had tears in his eyes, tears on his cheek, she says a better man than you I AM THE DETECTIVE, I AM THE RESISTANCE I cough once, I cough again an exorcism, an exit THE ONLY RESISTANCE, IN THIS CITY Is it him, asks the wife, the Teikoku killer not you, never you NO RESISTANCE CITY I shake my head, I say, His hair is too long, it can’t be him, the Teikoku killer, not him, no you are no exorcism, you are no exit NO RESISTANCE

6. I am early, he is late, it doesn’t matter wa-oh-wa-oh IN THIS FOREIGN CITY, IN THIS ALIEN CITY I enter the dancehall beat me mama, with that boogie-woogie beat, that Tokyo boogie-woogie, beat me, beat me ALL THINGS ARE FOREIGN TO ME, ALL PEOPLE ARE ALIEN Jungle music and tom-toms, yellow skin and Negroid hair the shadows lengthen, in time, the shades advance, in rhythm NEW DANCES, OLD TUNES The dance among the ruins, the dance of the living dead on the ashes of the really dead sakura boogie-woogie, jungle boogie-woogie NO LONGER HUMAN, NO LONGER LIVING Bones on skin, sticks on drums in borrowed dresses, to stolen songs DANCING NEW DANCES, HUMMING OLD TUNES In the lights, in the mirrors, everything is reflected we are always reflected REFLECTED, FRACTURED, DISFIGURED AND OTHER I see my wife, but is it her bows and ribbons in her hair YESTERDAY’S ENEMY IS TODAY’S FRIEND Every woman looks like her, every woman moves like her in the redness, in the heat THE BATTLE IS OVER NOW, THE WAR AT AN END I see my Japanese wife dancing with an American soldier in the smoke, in the fog WE PRAISE THEIR MARTIAL SKILLS I see them spin upon the floor, fall then roll around on and on, dancing and dancing, on and on, turning and turning THEY PRAISE OUR COURAGEOUS HEARTS Why don’t the gods blow out the sun, then everyone can roll around fucking and fucking him, her, hell, hell WITH FOND FAREWELLS AND SALUTES WE PART No, do it in bright daylight flesh, filth, man, woman, human, animal WHEELING TO THE LEFT, THEN TO THE RIGHT Do it like the flies on my hand in fields and in lewdness, in debauchery and in democracies IN NEW DANCES TO OLD TUNES The bastard, how he touches her up, how he feels her up, the slut she curtsies, he bows NO LONGER LIVING, NO LONGER HUMAN I get up from my chair, I cannot wait in this dancehall they clap their hands, their hands are hammers EVERYTHING FOREIGN HERE, EVERYONE ALIEN NOW I leave all the things of this world, they are evil things NOTHING IS SPARED, NO ONE IS SPARED

7. Detective Inspector H. gives me a new file, the Matsui File, and I read the Matsui File, cover to cover all men have secrets, all men tell lies BAD MEN, GOOD MEN His was the name-card presented at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank, the name used in the rehearsal for the Shiinamachi branch of the Teikoku Bank somewhere to someone IN WARTIME, IN PEACETIME We have already questioned Dr Matsui Shigeru, we have already eliminated Dr Matsui Shigeru; his alibi checks out, his appearance doesn’t match all men are guilty, are guilty of something WAR CRIMES, PEACE CRIMES But there are things about Dr Matsui that don’t check out, there are things in his background that do match somehow, somewhere THE CLUES LIE IN THEIR WORDS Dr Matsui works for the Health and Welfare Ministry in Sendai, Dr Matsui served in the Imperial Army as chief of the Public Sanitation and Health Administration Department in Java, Indonesia crimes never stay secret, secrets never stay secret IN THEIR WORDS LIES THE EVIDENCE The newspapers printed the story of the rehearsal at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank, the newspapers printed the details of Dr Matsui Shigeru and his name-card, the newspapers printed that Dr Matsui Shigeru was being interviewed by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Board, the newspapers printed that Dr Matsui Shigeru was employed by the Health and Welfare Ministry, that he had served in the Imperial Army in Indonesia men always talk, talk to someone THE EVIDENCE OF THEIR LIES, THE EVIDENCE OF THEIR GUILT Two days after the newspapers printed their stories about Dr Matsui Shigeru, a letter arrived at the Special Team investigating the Teikoku Bank robbery, an anonymous letter, an anonymous letter about Dr Matsui Shigeru, about the things Dr Matsui Shigeru had done in Indonesia, the crimes Dr Matsui Shigeru had committed in Indonesia in confidence, in betrayal ALL MEN ARE GUILTY, ALL MEN ARE CULPABLE I keep reading the anonymous letter and I keep remembering this one fact: Dr Matsui’s card was the card used, Dr Matsui’s name was the name used; so the suspect had his card, so the suspect knew his name; so the suspect knows Dr Matsui Shigeru, so Dr Matsui Shigeru knows the suspect all men have secrets, all men are guilty IN WARTIME, IN PEACETIME I put down the letter, I close the Matsui File, I pick up the phone all men, always BAD MEN, BAD MEN

Act II

8. Dr Matsui Shigeru has already been questioned about the Teikoku murders, Dr Matsui Shigeru has already been eliminated as a potential suspect, but Dr Matsui Shigeru is still in our custody, still helping us with our inquiries you seem distracted, Detective DISPLACED We have drawn up lists, lists of the people to whom Dr Matsui Shigeru gave his name-card, the name-cards exchanged and the name-cards received is something troubling you, something on your mind FROM THE PAST, IN THE PRESENT, FOR THE FUTURE We have asked any member of the public who may have exchanged name-cards with Dr Matsui Shigeru to present themselves with the name-card of Dr Matsui Shigeru at their local police station trouble at home, with the wife DISLOCATED Now I ask Dr Matsui Shigeru to tell me the names of the people with whom he worked in Java, Indonesia, the names of the people with whom he served in the Imperial Army in the Public Sanitation and Health Administration Department in Java, Indonesia twenty days straight, no days off, it’s not easy, with a wife UNABLE TO FOCUS, UNABLE TO FORGET My memory is poor, Dr Matsui Shigeru tells me, it must be the effect of that South Asian climate, but I don’t remember them well, the people with whom I worked, the people with whom I served a wife much younger, a pretty little thing, with a young child, both left at home, to fend for themselves THE FUTURE, THE PRESENT, THE PAST Well one of them, at least, remembers you, and remembers you well, I tell Dr Matsui Shigeru and I pass him the letter, the anonymous letter naturally it must be a worry, a distraction, always there, at the back of your mind DISORIENTATED I’ll be seeing you again, I tell Dr Matsui Shigeru, so don’t be going anywhere now are you listening, Detective OUT OF PLACE, OUT OF TIME

9. In the bathhouse we are letting Dr Matsui Shigeru return to Sendai IN THE LOOKING-GLASS Men are shaving their faces as you know, Dr Matsui Shigeru suggested we interview his colleague, Mr Hoshi Shōji in Sendai I HAVE MY FINGERS IN MY EARS On their stools as you know, Detective T. interviewed Mr Hoshi Shōji in Sendai IN THE LOOKING-GLASS Men are washing each other as you know, Mr Hoshi Shōji’s alibi checks out, Mr Hoshi Shōji’s appearance doesn’t match BUT I CANNOT CLOSE MY EYES Buckets of water, over their heads, over their bodies as you know, Mr Hoshi Shōji suggested we interview Dr Matsui Shigeru’s former colleague from Indonesia, ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima IN THE LOOKING-GLASS I pick up the soap, I lather the soap as you know, we issued an APB for ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima MY BODY IS NOT MY OWN I wash the shoulders and the back of Detective Inspector H. as you know, the description of ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima does not match that given by the survivors IN THE LOOKING-GLASS You always look so wrought, he says, you always seem so distracted, Detective N. so we are sending Dr Matsui Shigeru back to Sendai with Detective T., to search through his house, to go through his address book, to collect all his name-cards ALIEN, FOREIGN Harder, he says, rub harder, Detective to refresh his memory IN THE LOOKING-GLASS

10. I turn a corner, blue hope in my pockets, I climb the stairs, my damp hate pulled low, I walk along the corridor, I put out my cigarette, I knock on the door the city is upside down HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE JAPAN Comrade Horie opens the door, Comrade Horie laughs, Oh, no! It’s the cops! Hide the books! Hide the pamphlets! Everybody run for your life the city is inside out WITH ALL MY HEART But Comrade Horie’s one-room apartment is empty, the meeting has already broken up, the party faithful have already left, just stale smoke in the air the whole country, the whole world A DWARF WHOSE HEART IS TOO BIG FOR HIS BODY I push past Comrade Horie into the room, the windowless, book-lined room, I squat down on the floor, and I say, Very funny upside down, inside out HOW MUCH DO YOU HATE AMERICA Comrade Horie shuts the door, Comrade Horie leans against it, Where have you been, Comrade. We’ve been very worried about you, worried you’d had a change of heart back to front WITH ALL MY HEART Don’t you read the newspapers, I ask the sun rises with the dusk A GIANT WHOSE HEART IS TOO SMALL FOR HIS BODY Not the papers you read, no with the dusk the moon sets I WANT TO HOPE, I WANT TO BELIEVE But you’ve heard about what happened at the Teikoku Bank in Shiinamachi, I ask, the mass-poison murder-case animals on two legs, men on all fours WITH ALL MY HEART That your case, asks Comrade Horie a horse rides a man down the Ginza IN THE POSSIBILITY OF A UTOPIA Not just mine, I laugh, every single detective in Tokyo is on the case, every other investigation suspended a boy laps rain water from a drain IF I CANNOT HOPE, IF I CANNOT BELIEVE And do you have a suspect yet a cow milks a woman’s tit WITH ALL MY HEART Not yet, but it seems there could be a link back to the Americans, I say, at the very least it seems that the killer had access to Occupation information, that he’s possibly even employed by them a woman shits in the street IN THE POSSIBILITY OF A UTOPIA Comrade Horie sits down opposite me now, the jokes finished, Really. Now that is very interesting, that could be very useful upside down, inside out THEN THIS IS PETRIFICATION Useful, I ask him, useful for whom back to front THEN THIS IS PARALYSIS The movement, you idiot, he laughs, I should introduce you to Comrade X a cat kisses a dog in front of a department store THE PETRIFICATION OF HOPE, THE PARALYSIS OF BELIEF Who is Comrade X, I ask a man bites the ear off another man in an alley A NEW ICE AGE He is a correspondent for Izvestia a hen dances with a pig in a ballroom IN THE GORGON’S GAZE You’re joking, I say, not laughing, no chance two women fight over a fish in a ditch ALL WOMEN TURN TO STONE Listen, hisses Comrade Horie, if you’re serious about helping us, helping the movement, then you need to start giving us things I see a rat wearing a suit ALL MEN TURN TO STONE What kind of things, I ask a family living in a hole ALL HEARTS Information a flea buying a cake PETRIFIED, PARALYSED And what kind of information do you think I could possibly have, I ask Comrade Horie a child scratching itself raw WITH DESPAIR, WITH HATRED About GHQ, about crimes, about conspiracies lice eating off silver I LOVE JAPAN, I DESPAIR OF JAPAN About conspiracies, I repeat, what conspiracies mothers eating their young I HATE AMERICA, I’M AFRAID OF AMERICA Comrade Horie throws his head back, hands in the air, Oh, wake up! Open your eyes, cop! It’s like the war never happened upside down, inside out NO POSSIBILITY, NO HOPE Like the war never happened, I say, it’s you who should wake up, comrade! You who should open your eyes! This city, this country, was destroyed. People are homeless, people are starving. We were defeated! We are occupied back to front ONLY PETRIFICATION, ONLY PARALYSIS Exactly, grins Horie now, exactly! But for what. So the same political gangs, the same financial houses, the same military cliques, the same Emperor can stay in power. The more things change, the more they stay the same on two legs, on all fours THE DWARF WHOSE HEART IS TOO BIG FOR HIS BODY Tell that to our former prime minister, I say animals are men, men are animals THE GIANT WHOSE HEART IS TOO SMALL FOR HIS BODY Old Tojo, laughs Horie, he’s not important. He never was. He’s just a scapegoat. Maybe a martyr, the way things are going detectives are suspects, suspects are detectives ALL HEARTS ARE STONE I shake my head, I light a cigarette, I cough and cough criminals are judges, judges are criminals IN THE GORGON’S GAZE Listen, says Comrade Horie, things are changing fast and not for the better. Things are moving backwards. The Americans are scared to death of communism, of what’s happening on the mainland. The Americans want things back the way they were before the war. And the Americans are taking steps to ensure that’s what’ll happen, you watch, they’ll be knocking on that door any day now, locking us all back up, throwing away the keys again. Unless we act now, Comrade Detective, we need to wake the Japanese people up! And we need to wake them up before it’s too late! Need to do it now! Need to show the people what’s happening! And you, Comrade Detective, you can help us show them. Because you can provide us with the proof the past is bad, the future is good COLD WARS, ICE AGES Proof of what, I ask him the present is not what it seems, and seems is not what is present IN THE GORGON’S GAZE Are you listening, shouts Horie now, proof that the Americans are colluding and conspiring with the old pre-war elites to stifle and extinguish democracy. To destroy and to bury socialism back to front THE PETRIFICATION OF HOPE, THE PARALYSIS OF BELIEF But what exactly is the proof that you think I possess, I ask upside down, inside out WITH ALL MY HEART You’ll find it, whispers Comrade Horie, I know you will the moon rises with the dawn I CANNOT HOPE, I CANNOT BELIEVE I cough once again, I hold my chest, I close my eyes, I see smoke again, animals in the smoke with the dawn the sun sets AN ICE AGE IN MY HEART

11. In Kanda, at the Myōjin Shrine, for the Setsubun Festival, I walk with my wife, her child on her back her child is not your child AT THE EDGE OF THE WORLD Thank you for bringing me here, she says, I know you should be working her words are not for you EVERYTHING SLIPS, EVERYTHING SLIDES Through the crowds, through the bodies their words are not for you EVERY LIVING THING PASSES Demons be outside, we shout, fortune be inside look at her, what a woman PASSES AND FALLS AWAY All their eyes are on her body the way she carries herself, the way her ass moves INTO THE NIGHT, INTO THE FOG The bodies pressed tight together, hands filled with hard soybeans that’s what I call a woman, that’s what I call a body BLACK NIGHT! BLACK FOG! Hands that want to touch her, hands that want to hold her all that meat to hold, but as wet as a fish NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING Thank you for coming, my wife says again be like fucking a fish filled with honey FLESH INTO FLESH You’re welcome, I say that’s what I call a woman AT THE EDGE OF THE WORLD

12. Dr Takase Toyokichi, a senior member of the medical department of the Tōhoku University Hospital in Sendai, walks into Sendai North Police Station the sound of scratching MEMORIES Dr Takase Toyokichi reports that at the end of December, or at the beginning of January, a man walked into the pharmacy of the Tōhoku University Hospital in Sendai scratching under the ground PRECISE MEMORIES The man was in his fifties, two spots on his left cheek, his hair cut short and grey we are always talking about you IMPRECISE MEMORIES The man asked Dr Takase Toyokichi for potassium cyanide, potassium cyanide to kill the fish in his pond talking about you behind your back THOUGHTS The man had no prescription but the man had a name we are always whispering about you PRECISE THOUGHTS The man said his name was Dr Matsui Shigeru whispering about you behind our hands IMPRECISE THOUGHTS Dr Takase Toyokichi knew this man was not Dr Matsui Shigeru, Dr Takase Toyokichi knows Dr Matsui Shigeru the sound of scratching DREAMS Someone else knows Dr Matsui Shigeru, someone who has his name-card, someone who wanted potassium cyanide scratching under the ground PRECISE DREAMS Someone who murdered twelve people at the Teikoku Bank on January 26, 1948 behind your back, behind their hands IMPRECISE DREAMS

13. I say, I’m sorry about the other night. I tried to call, but you’d already left your office among the smoke, among the tunes MY FATHER APPEARS TO ME It doesn’t matter, says the journalist, forget about it. You are here now. So what have you got for me, Detective from the music-box, the American ovens BY THE RIVER I say, Not something you can probably print, not yet, but it’s something you should know eyes smarting, ears ringing ON THE SHORE Go on, he says in the smoke, in the fog IN HIS UNIFORM What we’re not saying in public is the growing feeling that this case is connected with the Tokumu Kikan and Occupied China on and on, dancing and dancing WITH HIS MEDALS Very interesting, he says on and on, turning and turning WITH HIS SWORD There are rumours of similar cases, cases that occurred back in Shanghai, that the culprit is ex-Tokumu Kikan, with experience handling medicines and civilians, who we should be looking for him, her, hell, hell HE POINTS WEST Very, very interesting, says the journalist flesh, filth, man, woman, human, animal HE POINTS EAST I say, But what I’m telling you is nothing you can print yet, but there’s nothing to stop you looking into the China connection, is there she curtsies, he bows EVERYWHERE IS AMERICA Thank you, he says, I will they clap their hands, their hands are hammers EVERYWHERE

14. We bring Dr Matsui Shigeru back to Investigation Headquarters, we sit Dr Matsui Shigeru in the interview room you are always so suspicious, you are always so jealous IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS I say, Someone used your name to try to buy potassium cyanide from the pharmacy of the Tohoku University Hospital I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t know who you are talking about GÖBBELS ADMITTED DEFEAT, GÖBBELS TOOK RESPONSIBILITY I know, says Dr Matsui Shigeru what men you mean, what man you mean HE POISONED HIS CHILDREN I say, Someone also tried to buy potassium cyanide from a pharmacy near Sendai Station on January 20, this year he was never here, never in this room HELGA, HILDEGARD, HELMUT, HOLDINE, HEDWIG AND HEIDRUN I know, says Dr Matsui Shigeru I can’t stop them walking past here HAND IN HAND, WITH HIS WIFE I say, This someone knows your name, they know who you are I can’t stop them looking at me HE ADMITTED DEFEAT, HE TOOK RESPONSIBILITY AND SHOT HIMSELF, HAND IN HAND I know, says Dr Matsui Shigeru I can’t stop them thinking about me IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS I say, You must know them, must know their name I can’t make them stay locked in their houses NOT LIKE OUR EMPEROR, HE TAKES NO RESPONSIBILITY It would seem so, says Dr Matsui Shigeru I can’t make them leave their eyes at home HE DENIES EVERYTHING, HE DENIES EVERYONE I ask, So tell me who, tell me their name I can’t make them not think what they think THE FATHERS AND MOTHERS, THE BROTHERS AND SISTERS, THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS I honestly don’t know, whispers Dr Matsui Shigeru I can’t stop you being suspicious, you being jealous HE DENIED US ALL AND HE MARRIED AGAIN I lean forward in my chair, I say, Then you are honestly a liar put a knife in my belly if you will, but never put your hand on my hand again IN HIS TOP HAT AND TAILS, AN AMERICAN GENERAL, WITH APIPE IN HIS MOUTH, HAND IN HAND

Act III

15. In the Police branch of the Public Safety Division of GHQ, they keep me waiting among the tunes, among the smoke THE WINNER AND THE LOSER First Miyakawa, the Liaison from the Justice Ministry, keeps me waiting, then Henry Eaton, the man from the PSD, keeps us both waiting the smell of hospitals, the smell of laboratories THE OCCUPIER AND THE OCCUPIED Him in his smart uniform, buttons polished; me in my old suit, buttons lost white coats and white masks, rubber gloves and rubber shoes THE MASTER AND HIS DOG I say, I am here on behalf of the Second CID Section of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Board to ask for the assistance of the Public Safety Division in our investigation of the Teikoku Bank robbery medicines and drugs, pills and injections HE SPEAKS, I JUMP I say, I am here to ask for the assistance of the Public Safety Division in locating a Lieutenant Hornet and a Lieutenant Parker examinations and tests, experiments and trials I JUMP, HE YELLS I say, We believe that on November 14 last year, the suspect in the Teikoku Bank robbery went to the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank in Shinagawa Ward, where he is reported to have told the employees of the bank, ‘I came here with Lieutenant Parker in a jeep because a new typhus case has occurred in this area.’ The suspect then produced some liquid which he told the employees was a preventative medicine for typhus control and directed them to drink it. They did so, suffering no ill-effects in rows, in cages HE YELLS, I COWER I say, On January 26 this year, a man we believe to be the same man appeared at the Shiinamachi branch of the Teikoku Bank in Toshima Ward and stated, ‘I came here because there have been many dysentery cases in this vicinity. Lieutenant Hornet will be here very soon. You must take this medicine for prevention.’ Sixteen employees drank the liquid simultaneously. Twelve died almost immediately in rows of cages, in cages of dogs I COWER, HE BEATS ME I say, We have reason to believe both Lieutenant Hornet and Lieutenant Parker have been associated with typhus disinfecting teams in the Tokyo area; Lieutenant Hornet with the Toshima Team in Ōji Ward and also in Katsushika Ward, Lieutenant Parker with the Ebara Ward Disinfecting Team dogs barking, dogs snarling HE BEATS ME, I WHIMPER I say, So I am here to ask for the names and addresses of any individuals either connected with or having any knowledge of the disinfecting work done by either of these two lieutenants, particularly interpreters or individuals who speak English, though we would advise the elimination of individuals below the age of thirty or above the age of sixty rubber gloves and rubber shoes, white coats and white masks I WHIMPER, HE PETS ME Henry Eaton yawns like a snarling dog, but I am the only dog here in the smoke, in the fog HE PETS ME, I WAG MY TAIL Henry Eaton says now, Leave it with me the dogs are not barking, the dogs all silent now THE DOG AND HIS MASTER

16. This is Comrade X., says Comrade Horie, in his windowless, book-lined room you seem distracted, Detective IN THE LOOKING-GLASS How much do you love Japan, Comrade X. asks me, how much do you hate America are you listening, Detective IN HEAVY BANDAGES Let me tell you two stories, says Comrade X., when our correspondents marched into Berlin with the Red Army, we went half-hungry, because all the available food was reserved for the foreign press, mostly Americans. Because the American press were our guests, we wanted them to have the best people are talking about you, Detective IN THE LOOKING-GLASS Then when all of us landed in Kyushu, alongside a full Red Army general, the American colonel in command sent his aide to invite us all to dinner behind your back FROM OPEN WOUNDS That night, at dinner, we were all seated at the foot of the table, even our Red Army general at the foot of this colonel’s table people are whispering about you, Detective IN THE LOOKING-GLASS From our seats at the foot of his table, we could see this American colonel well, this American colonel and his other much more important guests: a couple of ill-mannered and noisy girls behind their hands IN HEAVY WINTER COATS In the middle of the dinner, one of the girls got up and sang, and all the American officers whistled you need to see someone, Detective IN THE LOOKING-GLASS The song she sang was called, ‘Will I Sleep Alone Tonight’ are you listening FROM OPEN HUNGRY MOUTHS They will treat you like dogs, says Comrade X., they will fuck your women and they will lie to you, Detective, they will lie to you someone who will help you IN THE LOOKING-GLASS So I ask you again, Detective, how much do you hate America, how much do you love Japan are you listening to me, Detective, I’m trying to help you REFLECTED, FRACTURED, DISFIGURED AND OTHER

17. Wake up, Detective N., says Detective Inspector H., kicking my desk, kicking my chair how much do you love Japan NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I’ve just come from a meeting with Miyakawa from the Justice Ministry, says Detective Inspector H. a dwarf whose heart is too big for his body CRAWLING OUT OF HELL, ON MY HANDS, ON MY KNEES Mr Eaton from the Public Safety Division told Miyakawa that no US military personnel are presently employed in typhus epidemic control, and that all involvement by US personnel in such duties ceased sometime in 1946 how much do you hate America NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING Furthermore, there are no records of any Lieutenants Hornet or Parker ever being involved in such work, says Detective Inspector H., so that would seem to be the end of that a giant whose heart is too small for his body DOWN THE BANK’S CORRDIORS, INTO THE BANK’S GENKAN I say, Then I want to go up to Sendai. I want to interview Dr Takase personally. Dr Takase met the man who tried to get potassium cyanide, the man who claimed to be Dr Matsui. Dr Takase met the Cyanide Man do you hope, do you believe NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING As you know, Inspector K. has already interviewed him, says Detective Inspector H., and I need you in Tokyo in the possibility of a utopia THROUGH THE DOORS, INTO THE STREET, THE SNOW AND THE MUD As you know, we have traced sixty of Dr Matsui’s name-cards, says Detective Inspector H., and so I need you here to record and collate all the information we are gathering in the field about these sixty name-cards and the ones we are still to find do you hope, do you believe NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I say, What about the Matsui name-card we already have. The name-card used at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank. The man who said he was Dr Matsui. The man who said the same thing in Sendai in an end to petrification, in an end to paralysis IT WAS THE DRINK, IT WAS MEDICINE, A DOCTOR, DYSENTRY The answer is still no, says Detective Inspector H. again, I need you here and besides, what about your wife, you want to leave her alone in Tokyo while you chase name-cards in Tōhoku with all your heart NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING

18. I turn the dark corner, I stand outside the door, the door to our room, and I hear her voice I want to love you like I used to love you I SMELL THE HOSPITAL, I SMELL THE LABORATORY A long, long time ago, she says, there was a poor little girl who had no father or mother I want to love you like I loved you before THE WHITE COATS AND THE WHITE MASKS Everything was dead and there was no one left in the whole of Japan I want to love you without suspicion THE RUBBER GLOVES AND THE RUBBER SHOES And since there was no one left in the whole of Japan, the little girl decided to go up to heaven to where the moon shone down without jealousy THEIR MEDICINES AND THEIR DRUGS But when the little girl got to the moon, it was just a lump of rotten wood I want to love you without the fear of losing you THEIR PILLS AND THEIR INJECTIONS So then the little girl went to the sun, but when she got there it was just a withered-up sunflower the fear of hurting you I SUBMIT TO THEIR EXAMINATIONS And when she got to the stars, they were just little white lice stuck on a piece of dirty old black cloth like I used to love you I SUBMIT TO THEIR TESTS So the little girl went back to Japan, but Japan was just an overturned pot of nothing like I loved you before I SUBMIT TO THEIR EXPERIMENTS The little girl was completely alone now, and so she sat down and cried but most of all, I want you to love me I SUBMIT TO THEIR TRIALS She’s sitting there still, all alone, still crying I want you to love me IN ROWS, IN CAGES, A DOG

19. I turn another dark corner, I climb another set of stairs, I walk along another corridor, I knock on another door have you ever seen nature inside-out, have you ever seen nature upside-down, have you ever seen double-nature I AM NOT DISTRACTED I told you they would lie to you, didn’t I, says Comrade X., and here is the proof of my words when the sun stands high and still at noon, as though the whole world is on fire, how it makes you hold your breath, as though the world was dead I AM NOT DELIRIOUS Comrade X. hands me a document, a document in English, a document stamped ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ then those frightful voices come, they speak to me, when nature is out I AM NOT POSSESSED As you can see from this, says Comrade X., the Americans have lied to you; a First Lieutenant Paul E. J. Parker, medical officer, was assigned to the Tokyo area between June 1946 and June 1947 to assist in various health-control activities the world so dark that you have to feel your way around it with your hands I AM NOT PREOCCUPIED Comrade X. says, This is undoubtedly the ‘Lieutenant Parker’ who was assigned to a typhus control team in Ōji Ward in March 1947 you think it is coming apart, like a spider’s web, dissolving and disintegrating in your fingers I HAVE NO MEMORIES And as you can further see from this, says Comrade X., while there is no record of a ‘Lieutenant Hornet’, there are records of a Captain J. Hartnett who was similarly engaged in public health work in Tokyo between June 1946 and April 1947 when something is, and yet isn’t, when something is there, yet nothing is there I HAVE NO VISIONS I say, They lied to me, to us everything so dark, and yet there’s still this redness, this redness from the west, the glow from a distant furnace, a gigantic underground oven I AM NOT MAD Comrade X. smiles and Comrade X. says, Are you really so surprised, Detective. I told you they would lie. The Americans always lie it’s all in the air, have you noticed the patterns in the air, in the clouds, in the fog, in the mist, and in the smoke I HAVE EATEN MY CORN, MY AMERICAN CORN, AND I AM NORMAL I say, I don’t know what to do if we could only read those patterns, if one could only read the air, then what things we would know, what truths I HAVE TAKEN MY PILLS, MY AMERICAN PILLS, AND I AM RATIONAL I will tell you, says Comrade X., I will help you, if you let me if we could read the air, then we would know the truth I AM NORMAL, RATIONAL AND SANE

20. I say, I was taking a big risk telling you the things I did, showing you the documents I did. A big risk for nothing! Nothing in your newspaper, nothing about the China connection, nothing about the GHQ connection, nothing about Parker and Hornet. So it looks like I took a big risk just for nothing your mother’s new husband, your never-my-new father WE’VE SEEN YOU BEFORE Not nothing, says the journalist now, you took a risk, I know, but I paid you he likes Americans, he entertains Americans WE’VE SEEN YOU PISSING I say, Not enough, not enough for all the risks I’ve taken. And now I don’t know why I bothered, why I took all those risks, you weren’t even listening to me, you didn’t even write the story with your father’s money, in your father’s house PISSING IN THE STREET I wrote the story, says the journalist, I gave it to my editor and he read it and he said he liked it, said he liked it very much on the floors he walked, in the chairs he sat PISSING DOWN A WALL I ask, so where is it, this story of yours, this story your editor liked so very much, he liked so very much he didn’t publish, so very much they didn’t print, where is it then in the room he lay, in the room they lay PISSING LIKE A DOG I don’t know, says the journalist your father and your mother IF YOU CAN’T CONTROL YOUR BLADDER I stand up and I say, Well, you better find out. Or there’ll be no more help, no more stories from me Americans lie, everybody lies WHAT CHANCE YOUR MIND

21. You are distracted, Detective, says the doctor, you are distracted and you are delirious you have not been listening, Detective IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS I ask, What is to be done. What should I do you have not been following instructions THE EMPEROR SAYS, I STAND BY MY PEOPLE You are delirious and you are possessed, possessed and preoccupied, possessed by memories and preoccupied with visions you have not been following orders I AM EVER READY TO SHARE IN THEIR JOYS AND SORROWS What is to be done. What should I do you have been making connections, Detective COURAGEOUS PINE, ENDURING THE SNOW Memories of things that never happened, visions of things that never will connections where there are no connections to be made THE TIES BETWEEN ME AND MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FORMED BY MUTUAL TRUST AND AFFECTION What is to be done. What should I do you have been making links, Detective THEY DO NOT DEPEND UPON MERE LEGENDS OR MYTHS I’m sorry to say, says the doctor now, but in a word, Detective, you are mad links where there are no links to be made THAT IS PILING UP, COLOUR UNCHANGING What is to be done. What should I do you have been imagining things, Detective NOR ARE THEY PREDICATED ON THE FALSE CONCEPTION THAT THE EMPEROR IS AMANIFEST DEITY I will tell you, says the good doctor, and I will help you, if you will let me hearing things, seeing things THAT THE JAPANESE ARE SUPERIOR TO OTHER RACES AND DESTINED TO RULE THE WORLD I ask, What is to be done. What should I do things that are simply not there LET THE PEOPLE BE LIKE THIS, SAYS THE EMPEROR Eat more corn, says the doctor, American corn and take these pills, these American pills you are suspended from duty, Detective, you are off the case IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS

Act IV

22. In the Occupied City in the Occupied City IN THE OCCUPIED CITY Time passes time passes TIME PASSES Seconds pass minutes pass HOURS PASS Days pass weeks pass MONTHS PASS But the city is still a wound the city still a wound STILL A WOUND My father still dead, my mother still remarried in these half-remembered memories of this half-forgotten detective MY FAMILY CURSED, MY HOUSE CURSED My wife still unfaithful, my case still unsolved they will find you guilty and they will hang you THE GROUND BENEATH STILL HOLLOW GROUND Sharpening pencils, writing reports until your bladder empties and your neck breaks UNDER MY CHAIR, UNDER MY DESK Passing time, backward and forward, forward and backward, time passing in the family albums, in the history books SOMETHING IS MOVING, MOVING BEHIND ME, MOVING BENEATH ME The city still occupied, the city still wounded we are all whores FROM A MUSIC BOX The clock strikes again and the telephone rings in the ruins of the city, in the eyes of the dead WHAT IS THAT TUNE, THAT FAMILIAR, SCRATCHED TUNE In the Occupied City, in the Wounded City through the looking-glass A LIGHT GLOWING ABOVE THE CITY, A FIRE RAGING ACROSS THE TOWN

23. In the final days of the war, as our Red Army swept over the former Japanese colony of Manchuria, many Japanese soldiers surrendered and were taken prisoner you’ve not been eating your corn, your American corn, have you, Detective ALL MEN HAVE SECRETS Among these prisoners, were men who had served in Detachment 100 and in Detachment 731 of the Japanese Kwantung Army; Detachment 100 and Detachment 731 were bacteriological detachments, both involved in the prosecution of and research into bacteriological and chemical warfare you’ve not been taking your pills, your American pills, have you, Detective ALL MEN TELL LIES In Khabarovsk, in the Primorye Military Area, my comrades from the Academy of Medical Sciences of the USSR have been interrogating these former members of Detachment 100 and Detachment 731 in preparation for their indictment as war criminals on charges of waging bacteriological warfare on China and the Soviet Union, and of conducting bacteriological experiments on Chinese and Soviet prisoners you’ve been putting your ear to the ground again, haven’t you, Detective SOMEWHERE TO SOMEONE Of course, we know that not all the criminals responsible for these atrocities are in our custody. We know that these secret bacteriological units of the Japanese army, which were commissioned to prepare for and conduct bacteriological warfare, were formed by the personal command of Emperor Hirohito himself hearing the sound of scratching from under the ground ALL MEN ARE GUILTY, ARE GUILTY OF SOMETHING We also know the names of the criminals in the Japanese General Staff and Ministry of War who backed and directed the clandestine work of these secret bacteriological units, who lavishly financed, equipped and staffed them, who sanctioned the research and development of internationally proscribed types of bacteriological warfare, and who planned for the day when they would authorize the launching of bacteriological attacks tunes from the music boxes SOMEHOW, SOMEWHERE Yes, we know the names of the contemptible, morally corrupt servitors of Japanese imperialism, generals of the former Japanese army — the bacteriological scientists Ishii, Kitano and Wakamatsu — who were ready to place their special knowledge at the service of the ruling clique of Japan for the purpose of preparing to conduct criminal bacteriological warfare in the whispering CRIMES NEVER STAY SECRET, SECRETS NEVER STAY SECRET And we know the names of those wicked misanthropes, the former members of Detachment 100 and Detachment 731, physicians and engineers of the Japanese army — Ōta, Murakami, Ikari, Tanaka, Yoshimura and many others — who mercilessly and in cold blood murdered defenceless people and bred many millions of plague-infected parasites and hundreds of kilograms of lethal microbes for the extermination of mankind and you’ve been putting your head in the clouds, haven’t you, Detective MEN ALWAYS TALK, TALK TO SOMEONE We know who they are and we know where they are, outside our borders and outside our jurisdiction, because these miscreants enjoy the protection of those reactionary forces in the imperialist camp who are themselves dreaming of the time when they will be able to hurl upon mankind load upon load of TNT, atomic bombs and lethal bacteria trying to read the patterns in the air again IN CONFIDENCE, IN BETRAYAL But you, Comrade Detective, you can help us, help mankind smoke from the Americans’ ovens ALL MEN HAVE SECRETS For this is a list of the names of men given to my comrades in Khabarovsk by the former members of Detachment 100 and Detachment 731 who are now our prisoners, the names of men who were once their colleagues in Detachment 100 and Detachment 731, men who are now back here, living and working freely in Japan, and I believe among these names, among the names of these men, is the name of the one man, the one man you are looking for, Detective in the fog ALL MEN ARE GUILTY Catch this one man, Detective, and expose this one man for the mass-poisonings at the Teikoku Bank, and you will expose all those men for all their crimes, all those Japanese men and all the American men who protect them in the nut-house, Detective, that’s where you’ll be ALL MEN, ALWAYS

24. Another name from the list, another doctor from the list, this one called Yanagi, this one in Chiba bad men, good men YOU ARE ALWAYS SO SUSPICIOUS, YOU ARE ALWAYS SO JEALOUS Yanagi had once been a research director in Detachment 731 in wartime, in peacetime I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT Yanagi had once been in charge of botanical disease experiments war crimes, peace crimes WHAT MEN YOU MEAN, WHAT MAN YOU MEAN Now Yanagi is living on a dusty highway between a tobacconist and a butcher the clues lie in your words HE WAS NEVER HERE, NEVER IN THIS ROOM Now Yanagi is working in a shabby surgery between a noodle shop and a gas station in your words lies the evidence I CAN’T MAKE THEM STAY LOCKED IN THEIR HOUSES For Yanagi is in hiding, for Yanagi is in fear the evidence of your lies, the evidence of your guilt I CAN’T MAKE THEM LEAVE THEIR EYES AT HOME He denies and he lies, then he cowers and he whimpers, and now he confesses to his crimes all men are guilty, all men are culpable I CAN’T MAKE THEM NOT THINK WHAT THEY THINK He begs and he pleads, then he betrays and he informs, and now he gives me a name in wartime, in peacetime I CAN’T STOP YOU BEING SUSPICIOUS, YOU BEING JEALOUS Another name for my list, another doctor for my list, this one called Sawa, this one in Funabashi bad men, bad men PUT A KNIFE IN MY BELLY IF YOU WILL, BUT NEVER PUT YOUR HAND ON MY HAND AGAIN

25. I turn the dark corner, I go up the stairs, I walk along the corridor, I open the metal door, I take off my shoes, I walk through our room, I stand over her body, I lift it up, and I say, Is it still you, are you still here you are not a bad man, but you are a poor man I AM THE GOOD DETECTIVE I should be able to see you with my eyes, but I can’t see you; I should be able to touch you with my hands, but I can’t touch you nothing but her and this job, this bloody job NOTHING BUT WORK UNDER THE SUN I should be able to see things, I should be able to touch things everybody hates the police, nobody talks to the police THE EARTH HOTTER THAN HELL What a very fine city we live in, what a very fine place it is, even finer with company the police don’t talk to the police, even the police hate the police I SWEAT EVEN WHEN I SLEEP Did he stand here, this close to you you’ll be giving someone a very nasty cut one day BUT HELL IS COLD, AND I AM COLD Oh, how I wish I had been him you go through this world like an open razor AS COLD AS THE PAUSE BETWEEN A ‘YES’ AND A ‘NO’ Your lips are so very beautiful, would you had left them at home today someone or something waiting, just waiting to be cut IS THE ‘YES’ TO BLAME FOR THE ‘NO’, OR THE ‘NO’ TO BLAME FOR THE ‘YES’ Your lips, your mouth, so very, very red; why are there no blisters on your lips, your mouth, I wonder a good detective takes care of himself and his family BELOW THIS VERY FINE GREY SKY, ON THIS VERY FINE GREY DAY I can see him now, I can see him standing, him standing here with you a good detective isn’t careless, distracted or foolhardy I WANT TO HAMMER A PEG, A PEG RIGHT INTO THAT SMOKE Oh, how I wish I had been him don’t cut your nails at night, don’t whistle those tunes at night A PEG TO HANG MYSELF FROM I see him, I see him, I see him and I see you, I see you, I see you, I see you and I see you with him, I see you with him, I see you with him, I see you with him and I see an abyss, I see an abyss, I see an abyss, an abyss you have nothing in this world but your wife UNTIL MY BLADDER EMPTIES If you look inside, every man is an abyss, you get dizzy if you look, if you look down, look inside you are a poor man, but not a bad man UNTIL MY NECK BREAKS

26. My colleagues have gone up to Otaru in Hokkaido, gone to arrest a man called Hirasawa Sadamichi among the tunes, among the smoke THE SOUND OF SCRATCHING My colleagues believe they have the evidence to prove that Hirasawa Sadamichi committed the Teikoku crime in the Black Fog, in the Black Mist SCRATCHING UNDER THE GROUND My colleagues believe Hirasawa Sadamichi has no alibi for the time of the Teikoku crime we’ve seen you before IN MEMORIES, BLOODY MEMORIES My colleagues believe Hirasawa Sadamichi had a strong motive for committing the Teikoku crime we’ve seen you pissing ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME My colleagues believe Hirasawa Sadamichi is guilty, my colleagues believe Hirasawa Sadamichi is the killer pissing in the street BEHIND MY BACK But I know Hirasawa Sadamichi is not guilty, I know Hirasawa Sadamichi is not the killer pissing down a wall OF THOUGHTS, BLOODY THOUGHTS For I know who is guilty, I know who the killer is pissing like a dog ALWAYS WHISPERING ABOUT ME I know his name and now I know his address among the tunes, among the smoke BEHIND THEIR HANDS And soon, very soon, I will know his face, I will see his face in the Black Fog, in the Black Mist THE DREAMS, BLOODY DREAMS, OF THE GOOD DETECTIVE

27. He shouts, I thought you were my man-on-the-inside, my man-in-the-know, but I’m the last-man-to-know, I’ve been scooped all things are foreign to you, all people are alien I CUT MY NAILS, EVERY NIGHT, AT NIGHT Everyone’s in the dark, I say, not just me, not just you. They have kept the rest of us chasing suspects with military backgrounds, suspects with medical backgrounds, kept telling us to forget about the name-cards no longer human, no longer living SO I MIGHT SEE AGAIN MY FATHER’S GHOST He shouts, But they told us not to write about the military men, about the medical men, told us to keep it out of our papers and look where that’s got us. Duped and scooped reflected, fractured, disfigured and other AT NIGHT, EVERY NIGHT, I CUT MY NAILS You think you people, your newspaper, are the only ones who get censored, I laugh, wake up! This country is an Occupied Country, this city is an Occupied City. They can do what they want, when they want, to who they want, how they want. It’s an Occupied City and it’s a set-up yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend IN THE HOPE YOU’LL COME AGAIN He asks, You’re saying this man Hirasawa is innocent then the battle is over now, the war at an end THAT YOU MIGHT SPEAK TO ME, THAT YOU MIGHT TALK TO ME Of course he is, I sigh, but they are desperate. They followed the name-cards and this is where it’s led them. But there are seventeen name-cards which have still not yet been traced, that are still not yet accounted for. This man Hirasawa is just one of the seventeen and the moment the survivors set eyes on him, that will be that with fond farewells and salutes you part THAT YOU MIGHT TELL ME WHAT TO DO He asks, That will be what, what do you mean wheeling to the left, then to the right I CUT MY NAILS, EVERY NIGHT, AT NIGHT The end of their case, I laugh, because the survivors won’t be able to identify Hirasawa, because it wasn’t him, and so then they’ll have to let him go again in new dances to old tunes THAT YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT TO DO, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT TO DO Now the journalist says, You really think so no longer living, no longer human ABOUT MY WORK, PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY HOUSE I really know so, I say, all of us do, all of us except Ikki and his name-card team. It’s all circumstantial everyone alien here, everything foreign now ABOUT MY MOTHER, PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY WIFE He says, But off-the-record your top men are telling us they are 100 per cent certain about Hirasawa Sadamichi, 100 per cent certain he is guilty. That’s why they’ve gone so public with his arrest nothing is spared PLEASE TELL ME, ABOUT MY WIFE, PLEASE And, of course, you believe everything you hear, I laugh, everything they tell you. Well, you just watch no one is spared NO MORE NIGHT, NO MORE NAILS

28. You have not been listening, Detective, have you who else would I be, where else would I go IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS, IN THE HISTORY BOOKS You have not been following instructions I am still me, I am still here HAND IN HAND You have not been following orders to see things, to touch things A WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING You have been making connections, Detective, haven’t you what are you talking about, you must have a fever A SHEEP IN WOLF’S CLOTHING Connections where there are no connections to be made you must be delirious, who are you talking about IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS You have been making links, Detective, haven’t you you give me money, you give me presents, you grab my hand, you grab my crotch HAND IN HAND Links where there are no links to be made have you been bitten by a flea, infected with some new form of madness, some new kind of virus or plague A WOLF ON THE THRONE You have been imagining things, Detective, haven’t you wasps land on my lips, all men are the same A SHEEP ON THE THRONE Hearing things, seeing things the days are long and the world is old, lots of people have stood in the same place IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, IN THE FAMILY ALBUMS Things that have never been, things that are simply not there, things that will never be a man can see a lot of things with two good eyes on a sunny day HAND IN HAND You are suspended from duty, Detective, you are off the case I am still here, I am still me THE WOLF AND THE SHEEP

Act V

29. In our room, on the floor, on my hands, on my knees, I see it, see it shining, in our room, on the floor, on my hands, on my knees, in the gloom, a golden thing, on the floor, in our room, on my hands, on my knees among the smoke, among the tunes UNDER CLOCKS I ask my wife, What is this thing the winner and the loser BIG CLOCKS, LITTLE CLOCKS What is what thing, she replies the occupier and the occupied WE WAIT FOR DEATH I say, This shining golden thing. Here in my fingers the master and his dog ON GREY DAYS, AGAIN AND AGAIN That thing, it’s nothing. It’s just an earring, she replies you speak, I jump A PIECE OF FOOD, IF WE’RE LUCKY I ask, And where did you get this golden earring I jump, you yell RATS, IF WE’RE NOT I found it in the street, she says, it’s nothing you yell, I cower IN ROOMS I say, But I’ve never found that kind of nothing, that shining golden kind of nothing I cower, you beat me ENORMOUS ROOMS, TINY ROOMS My wife says nothing you beat me, I whimper WE WAIT FOR DEATH I take a second golden earring, a matching golden earring, out of my pocket, I hold it up to her, I say, I never found that kind of nothing twice I whimper, you pet me A KIND WORD, NOW AND AGAIN So what does that make me, she asks, what are you saying you pet me, I wag my tail A SMILE, IF WE’RE LUCKY Now I take some money from my pocket, I give it to my wife, I say, I have to go, go back to work the dog and his master BLOWS, IF WE’RE NOT I’m a bad person I know, my wife is weeping, I’m bad for you. If I had a sharp knife, I could stab myself. I want to die the bad dog, the good master IN ROOMS, UNDER CLOCKS I leave the room, I close the door, I leave the building, I turn another corner, and I’m gone again among the tunes, among the smoke WE WAIT FOR DEATH

30. The last name on my list, the last doctor on my list, this one called Sawa Saburo, this one in Funabashi, Chiba Prefecture across the occupied city, in your borrowed cars IN OUR HOSPITALS, IN OUR SCHOOLS, AT OUR HOMES, AT OUR JOBS Sawa Saburo had once been a research assistant at the former Japanese Imperial Chemical Laboratory in Tsudanuma, Chiba Prefecture roads turn to mud, mud turns to rivers EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY HOUR Sawa Saburo had once been involved in research into the use of prussic acid as a poison snow turns to sleet, sleet turns to rain, turns to sleet again A HUNDRED LITTLE COMPROMISES Sawa Saburo was then later promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel and sent to Pingfan, outside Harbin, in Manchuria there are ambulances, there are crowds EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY Lieutenant Colonel Sawa Saburo was attached to Detachment 731 former soldiers standing in their white robes and khaki caps A HUNDRED LITTLE DEALS Now Sawa Saburo is living on another dusty highway between a clothing shop and a bar feral children hanging from the branches of the shrine-trees EVERY DAY OF EVERY WEEK Now Sawa Saburo is working in a run-down animal hospital between a bicycle repair shop and a Chinese restaurant the Nagasaki Shrine to your right, the Teikoku Bank to your left A HUNDRED LITTLE LIES But Sawa Saburo no longer calls himself Sawa Saburo; Sawa Saburo now calls himself Endo Saiichi you put out your cigarette, you follow the other detectives, up the steps, into the bank EVERY WEEK OF EVERY MONTH I open the metal gate in the wooden fence and I step inside the courtyard of the Funabashi Animal Hospital down the narrow passages, through the heavy furniture THE GUILTY ARE FREE, THE INNOCENT ARE IMPRISONED The August sun is high in the midday sky and here in the courtyard there is no shade, only row upon row of cage upon cage between the empty chairs, the rows of desks EVERY MONTH OF EVERY YEAR In each row there are twelve cages, on each cage is stacked another two cages, and in each cage is a dog the cash on the desks, in piles, the vomit on the floor, in pools THESE ARE THE COMPROMISES WE MAKE WITH OURSELVES The place smells of piss, the place smells of shit, the place smells of dogs in the corridor, on the mats, in the bathroom, on the tiles MINUTE AFTER MINUTE, HOUR AFTER HOUR, DAY AFTER DAY But the dogs are not barking, the dogs are all silent now ten bodies, ten corpses THESE ARE THE DEALS WE SELL TO OURSELVES This place smells of death the clock on the wall, its black hands still moving WEEK AFTER WEEK, MONTH AFTER MONTH, YEAR AFTER YEAR A man in a dirty white coat and a dirty white mask, in dirty rubber gloves and dirty rubber boots, steps out of the office now their hands raised, frozen and petrified, at their throats THESE ARE THE LIES WE TELL TO OURSELVES The man removes his dirty white mask and he asks, Can I help you these men, these women, this child A HUNDRED LITTLE COMPROMISES, A HUNDRED LITTLE DEALS, A HUNDRED LITTLE LIES I take off my hat, I take out my handkerchief, I wipe my face, and I say, Dr Sawa they died in agony, they died in fear, they died in silence, fallen on each other, lying side by side, faces up and faces down A THOUSAND TINY CUTS, A MILLION TINY WOUNDS

31. I wait in our room for her to return, but the child keeps crying did the world make you sad, or do you make the world sad HOW MUCH FOR A KNIFE I watch for her from the window, but the child keeps crying did the world hurt you, or do you hurt the world TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I pick it up, but the child keeps crying did the world make you cry, or do you make the world cry A LOVELY SHARP STRAIGHT KNIFE I hold it in my arms, but the child keeps crying did the world say yes and you said no, or do you say yes and the world says no TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I try to sing it a song, sleep angel sleep, but the child keeps crying did the world make you the person you are, or do you make the world the place it is A LOVELY SHARP CHEAP KNIFE I walk up and down the room, holding it in my arms, down and up the room, but the child keeps crying was the world to blame, or are you to blame TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I pat it and rub its back, but the child keeps crying was it the world, or is it you A KNIFE JUST LIKE THAT I try to give it food, but the child keeps crying this petrification, this paralysis TO CUT MY OWN THROAT I try to give it water, but the child keeps crying this despair, this hatred A CHEAP AND ECONOMICAL DEATH Finally I lay it back down, but the child keeps crying are these tears for the world, or are these tears for yourself TO CUT MY OWN THROAT The child keeps crying for its mother these tears THE LOOSE CHANGE IN MY POCKET

32. He wipes away the tears from his eyes no, I think you mean Dr Endo; yes, you are looking for Dr Endo AMONG THE TUNES, AMONG THE SMOKE He says, It is true that I committed the crime no, I’ve not seen Dr Endo for six months IN THE FOG, IN THE MIST I feel relieved now that everything is over, that a heavy load has been lifted from me no, Dr Endo has not been here; no, he has not been to work; no, not for the last six months THE CITY IS UPSIDE DOWN I don’t have adequate words to express the regret I have for having committed this horrible crime yes, you could try his room down the highway; yes, in the building between the men’s clothing shop and the bar called Yuki THE CITY IS INSIDE OUT The police have treated me fairly and properly, man to man, and this treatment allowed me to bring out the best in my mind no, Dr Endo said he was going away; no, he didn’t say he’d be coming back THE WHOLE COUNTRY, THE WHOLE WORLD Chief Prosecutor Takagi Hajime has been a gentleman and Prosecutors Sasaki and Umezu have treated me with consideration and fairness yes, of course I believed Dr Endo; yes, because he said he was dying; yes, because I knew he was dying; because I could see he was dying UPSIDE DOWN, INSIDE OUT I do not feel like making any statement in my defence at this time, but I can say that part of my motive was due to science yes, Dr Endo looked like a doctor; yes, he was about fifty years old; yes, he was about 160 centimetres tall BACK TO FRONT I have been writing poetry and Chief Prosecutor Takagi Hajime has been helping me yes, his hair was grey; yes, his hair was short; yes, he had two marks; yes, upon his left cheek; yes, he looked like that, he looked like that picture THE SUN RISES WITH THE DUSK, WITH THE DUSK THE MOON SETS I am a devout follower of Nichiren Buddhism and it is my desire now that my soul might be cleansed and saved by the great mercy of the Buddha no, you are not the first person to come here; no, you are not the first person to ask about him; no, you are not the first person to suggest he’s a killer THE MOON RISES WITH THE DAWN, WITH THE DAWN THE SUN SETS I want the world to know that I have confessed my guilt of my own free will no, I don’t know where he might have gone; no, I don’t think he could still be alive AMONG THE TUNES FROM THEIR MUSIC-BOXES, AMONG THE SMOKE FROM THEIR OVENS At last I am able to sleep because the man had his addictions, because the man was dying IN THE BLACK FOG, IN THE BLACK MIST

33. I say, Come on, it’s time, let’s go all men have secrets, all men tell lies I WANT TO LOVE YOU LIKE I USED TO LOVE YOU Go where, she asks somewhere to someone I WANT TO LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVED YOU BEFORE Somewhere, anywhere, what does it matter all men are guilty, are guilty of something I WANT TO LOVE YOU WITHOUT SUSPICION It’s so dark here, the city’s that way somehow, somewhere WITHOUT JEALOUSY I won’t let you get sore feet again, I promise you that crimes never stay secret, secrets never stay secret I WANT TO LOVE YOU WITHOUT THE FEAR OF LOSING YOU And I’ve got to get back, the dinner to make, the child to feed men always talk, talk to someone THE FEAR OF HURTING YOU But please sit down, please stay a bit in confidence, in betrayal LIKE I USED TO LOVE YOU The moon and the stars, she says, they look so very red all men have secrets, all men are guilty LIKE I LOVED YOU BEFORE Like the glow from their ovens, like blood on iron all men, always BUT MOST OF ALL, I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME So very, very red always I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME

34. I career from one man into the next, spilling one man’s drink and then the next, until finally I career into one man and his drink and this man turns with all his friends and all the white teeth in all their mouths and he says, If you are looking for a fight Jap, then you’ve found one my father appears to me now, for the last time IN THIS CITY OF NO RESISTANCE The American swings a punch at me, missing me and falling forwards to the laughter of all his friends by the river, by the shore I HATE THE LOSERS, I HATE THE VICTORS You little Japanese shit, I’m going to rip that little yellow tongue right out of your dirty yellow mouth and strangle you with it in his uniform AMERICAN SKIN UPON JAPANESE SKIN, AMERICAN FLESH INTO JAPANESE FLESH The American throws himself on me, straddling me with his thighs and pinning me to the ground, raining down blows from his fists into my face with his medals, with his sword I HATE ALL AMERICANS, I HATE ALL CAUCASIANS You little yellow bastard, I’m going to wipe that stupid smile off your stupid yellow face and knock the shit right out of you he points west, he points east WHITE SKIN ON YELLOW SKIN, WHITE FLESH IN YELLOW FLESH The American throws a last punch, standing up and kicking me once in the ribs and once in the gut everywhere is America IN THIS OCCUPIED CITY, WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE Had enough already, Jap, he laughs, ready to surrender again, are you everywhere, he says, everyone I WILL NOT LIVE ON MY HANDS, I WILL NOT LIVE ON MY KNEES I get to my feet, staggering forward into him, raising my head now, my two black eyes staring into his two blue eyes there are no more Japanese I WILL CLOSE MY LEGS AND PULL UP MY PANTS You got something you want to say to me, Jap, an apology for me, an apology in English, you dumb fucking monkey no more pure Japanese I WILL WIPE MY LIPS AND I WILL SCRUB MY FACE I shake my head and I lean back and now I spit in his face and I turn and I walk away through the crowd and through the doors only mongrel Japanese, only bastard Japanese FUCK AMERICA, FUCK AMERICA, FUCK AMERICA You dirty yellow bastard, come back here and fight like a man, you dirty yellow monkey, come on, boys, let’s get him, get after him you are the last truly Japanese man alive IN THIS OCCUPIED CITY, I AM THE RESISTANCE, I AM THE LIBERATION

35. Down by the river, she is still lying where I left her, looking up at the moon and the stars a poor little girl who had no father or mother THE SOUND OF SCRATCHING We won’t feel the weather now, we are beyond the weather now, not even the damp in the morning everything dead, no one left in the whole of Japan SCRATCHING UNDER THE GROUND Perhaps they’ll lay us side by side in the morgue and then they’ll come with their bags and with their instruments and they’ll lift our sheets so the poor little girl decided to go up to heaven to where the moon shone down IN MEMORIES, TERRIBLE MEMORIES I kneel down on one knee beside her and pull her up onto me, resting her back on my knee, cradling her like a child, and I whisper in her ear, You are so pale, so very pale now, I say, when you were black, so black with him but the moon was just a lump of rotten wood ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME They’ll press their fingers into our bodies at various points and then they’ll sniff their fingers and they’ll make their general observations then the little girl went to the sun BEHIND MY BACK And your hair is so wild, didn’t you brush your hair tonight, I’ll tidy you up, don’t worry, I’ll tidy you up but the sun was just a withered-up sunflower THOUGHTS, TERRIBLE THOUGHTS They’ll take their largest knives out of their bags and they’ll incise our muscle walls and when she went to the stars ALWAYS WHISPERING ABOUT ME I lift her up, I stand her upright, the water’s just there, there in the river the stars were just little white lice stuck on a piece of dirty old black cloth BEHIND THEIR HANDS Then kneeling up on the slabs and taking their saws from their cases, they’ll cut briskly through our rib cages so the little girl went back to Japan DREAMS, TERRIBLE DREAMS Come to the river, come to the water, I’ll wash everything away, then you’ll be clean but Japan was just an overturned pot of nothing ALL DREAMS, ALL THOUGHTS, ALL MEMORIES Then they’ll lay down their saws and pick up their knives again and incise into us again but more deeply this time the poor little girl completely alone now ALL TERRIBLE, ALL BLOODY, ALL IMPRECISE We wade into the river together, up to our knees, then to our chests, now to our necks she sat down and cried and she’s sitting there still EACH MEMORY, EACH THOUGHT, EACH DREAM Then they’ll take out our hearts, and they’ll weigh our hearts, on their cold metal scales sitting there still, all alone, still crying A WOUND

36. In the Occupied City, I walk away from the riverbank English words, American voices CRIME AND POLITICS In this city of no resistance, I walk up to the road there he is, he’s over there POLITICS AND DISCIPLINE In this city of wounds, I turn another dark corner back to the car, quickly he’s getting away DISCIPLINE AND PUNISHMENT In my ears, car doors slam over there, over there IN THE NEW JAPAN, IN THE NEW WORLD In my heart, the engine revs quick, put your foot down, quick THE ENGINE OF AMERICAN CAPITALISM, THE ENGINE OF JAPANESE CAPITALISM In my mind, the wheels turn over there, quick, over there THE WHEELS OF THE AMERICAN MILITARY, THE WHEELS OF THE JAPANESE BUREAUCRACY In my eyes, the headlights bright quick, over there to the left, at the side of the road THE BRIGHT LIGHTS OF THEIR GREEDY EYES, THE BRIGHT WHITES OF THEIR GREEDY TEETH Bang did we hit him THE EYES OF THE PEOPLE OF JAPAN, THE TEETH OF THE PEOPLE OF AMERICA The engine revs again can you see him JAPAN WATCHING, AMERICA LAUGHING The wheels turn again he’s there, over there LAUGHING AT ME, LAUGHING AT YOU Turn and turn again back up, back up REVERSE COURSE Bang that felt like him, like we got him BANG No more detective no more mysteries NO MORE HOPES OF HAPPY ENDINGS Out of the last corner of my eye, I see them coming half-seen figures, half-heard whispers IN THE BLACK FOG, IN THE BLACK MIST Paralysis, petrification on your hands and on your knees REFLECTED, FRACTURED, DISFIGURED AND OTHER Dead. Dead. Dead is the little Jap bastard dead IN THE BLACK MIRROR, THROUGH THE BLOOD-STAINED LOOKING GLASS Only truth only truth TRUTH Only fragments fragments ONLY FRAGMENTS In the darkness the darkness IN THE DARKNESS I have left the scene of the crime for the last time the scene of the crime THE CRIME, THE SPECTACLE

Beneath the Black Gate, in its upper chamber, in the occult square, in the light of its candles, truth only fragments, fragments only here –

No more mysteries no more mysteries

NO MORE MYSTERIES –

No more whodunnit contests, no more cash prizes,

no more solutions sealed in envelopes,

no more puzzles, no more games,

here fragments, only fragments

in the candlelight, in the half-light,

only fragments, fragments here. Here where nothing is rational, nothing is fair, where there are no more happy endings,

no more endings at all; no endings and no beginnings,

no books; no book-to-come –

IN THE OCCUPIED CITY, beneath the Black Gate, among your blank papers, among your dry pens, you are spinning,

spinning and spinning, spinning again,

deaf again to the foot-stair-steps,

to the sirens, to the telephones,

to the familiar whisper of a familiar man, ‘I told you before, no more tears. No more tears for him …’

that familiar elderly man, that familiar first detective, among his boxes and among his files, dust-webbed and cob-covered,

dragging the dead body of the second detective, dragging it out of the occult circle, away from the light of the candles –

‘Where is your mystery, your whodunnit now?’ he laughs at you, he barks at you, ‘I told you, he did it! He did it!’

‘Liar! Liar! Liar-Dog! Dog-Liar! Lie! Lie!’ you are shouting again, because you hate detectives, and you hate dogs, and all detectives are dogs, all dogs detectives,

except one; this one,

this one which that familiar elderly man, that familiar first detective is dragging

away,

laughing and barking as he goes, as you try to stand, in the light of the four candles, as you try to stop him, in the occult square, to push him to the ground, to kick him in his gut and kick him in his head again, in his deceits and in his lies again, but he is gone now,

kicking over a candle as he goes, the ninth candle,

gone now with the body of the detective,

the dead body of the second detective,

gone now, now only three candles,

in an occult triangle,

remain. And still this book, this book will not come, still it remains the book-to-come, in the light of these three candles, in this upper chamber, where the shadows, the shadows are shuffling, moving now, advancing step by step towards you,

step by step-step, the shadows and the walls, step by step-step, the walls and the darkness, step by step-step –

For this chamber is shrinking, step by step-step, the walls coming closer, step by step-step, the ceiling coming lower, step

by step-step, one candle behind you, one to your left,

one to your right, closer, step by step-step,

lower, step by step-step, the shadows

and the walls, step by step-step,

the walls and the darkness,

step by step–

step –

In the upper chamber of the Black Gate, in the light of the three remaining candles, now a man is seated on the floor before you,

an old and broken man, his body bones and his hair grey,

his clothes those of a convict, a condemned man,

for this is the man who brought you here –

To the scene of this crime, to the words of this book; this book-to-come, that will not come here –

Here beneath the Black Gate –

The man whose case inspired you, inspired you to write this book, this book-to-come, this old man whose name you had hoped to absolve, exonerate and clear, clear –

Through your words,

through your art, to bring him justice, to give him redemption, to bring you attention,

recognition,

and now this old and broken man raises his head, and your eyes meet as the old man says, ‘People have been telling lies about me. I have been telling lies about me. Are you here to tell more lies?’

You shake your head, you smother a sob, and you push a candle towards him, across the tear-splinter-ed floor, and now you say, ‘I am here to listen, to listen to the truth, and then to write that truth. For this candle is your candle; your candle, your story …’

But the old man sighs, then the old man says, ‘I see no candles here, sir. No stories. I see only prisons. Only prisons …