Points And Lines

13 Mihara's Reply

Dear Mr. Torigai:

The weather is very hot. Walking in the scorching sun, one's shoes get stuck in the soft asphalt. All day I keep looking forward to the cold shower and the glass of cold beer that await me when I return home from work. I remember, almost with pleasure, the day you took me to Kashii Beach and I stood shivering in the cold wind that blew in from the Sea of Genkai.

Not for a long time have I been able to write a letter in so relaxed a mood. It was last February when we first met in Hakata. Seven months have gone by since I stood with teeth chattering on Kashii Beach and listened to your story. Ever since that time, my mind has been absorbed by the case and I have been unable to rest. Today, at long last, I am at peace; the feeling is like sunlight in early autumn. This is probably because the case is closed. The more difficult a case, I find, the more relaxed one feels when it is solved. To you, of course, this must be obvious. Nevertheless, it is this feeling of accomplishment which prompts me to write to you. Moreover, it is my duty. And also my pleasure.

I wrote you once before to tell you that the most difficult feature of the case was Tatsuo Yasuda's trip to Hokkaido. You sent back a kind letter, urging me to persist. I cannot tell you how much your encouragement has meant to me.

Yasuda's almost foolproof alibi, that he left Ueno Station in Tokyo by the express Towada on January 20 and crossed to Hokkaido on the Sei-kan ferry No. 17, arriving in Sapporo by the Marimo at 8:34 P.M. on the twenty-first, was finally broken. The formidable wall which kept blocking my way was not easy to demolish because Yasuda did meet an official of the Hokkaido government on the Marimo, he did meet Kawanishi at Sapporo Station when the train arrived, and his signature was definitely on the passenger list of the ferry. The most difficult point was that signature on the passenger list. He had seen to every last detail.

On the other hand, nothing seemed to develop from our assumption that he had used a plane. Yasuda's name was not on the passenger list of any one of the three flights-from Tokyo to Fukuoka, Fukuoka back to Tokyo, and Tokyo to Sapporo. We could not even discover a false name. We checked the 143 passengers on the three planes and found that each one could be identified, each one admitted traveling in one or the other of the planes. Unless he were a ghost, Yasuda could not have been on those flights. Once again his story proved to be true.

In short, on the train to Hokkaido Yasuda's presence aboard was definitely established, while his not being on the planes was equally well established.

However, I began to have doubts because of the fact that Yasuda had asked Kawanishi to meet him in the waiting room of Sapporo Station instead of on the platform. He did this, I surmised, because of a possible delay in the arrival of the plane. Flying to Sapporo made it possible, of course, for him to catch the Marimo later at Otaru. We located the telegraph office which had dispatched the wire to Kawanishi. We found it was a passenger on the Towada who had asked the conductor to send it while the train was at a station near Asamushi on the morning of the twenty-first. The conductor remembered the passenger. From his description we recognized Division Chief Ishida of X Ministry and his staff assistant, Kitaro Sasaki. It was Sasaki who had handed the telegram to the conductor.

This gave me a further clue. Ishida's name was on the passenger list of the ferry but not Kitaro Sasaki's. I concluded that Sasaki, on boarding the ferry, had used Yasuda's name instead of his own when filling out the passenger form. We were remiss in not realizing that Ishida would be traveling with an assistant. We found this out only later. When we interrogated Sasaki, he confessed that Yasuda had prepared the passenger landing form two weeks before.

When you board the ferry at Aomori you can pick up any number of these forms. They are kept in a box outside the ticket window, just like telegraph blanks at a post office. Yasuda had asked Ishida to have one of his subordinates get him some forms when he went to Hokkaido, and he filled one out and left it with the division chief. Later, I will explain the relationship between Yasuda and Ishida, but the scheme to have Yasuda's name appear on the passenger list, which had us completely baffled, was as simple as that.

Yasuda's trip to Hokkaido by train was thus completely disproved. Next was the matter of the passengers on the planes. Here we had the reverse of the problem of the passenger list on the ferry.

We had the 143 passengers rechecked. We investigated their professions, as indicated on the passenger lists. We did this with a definite purpose in mind. Eventually the total narrowed down to five or six suspects. These turned out to be businessmen with close connections with X Ministry. We questioned them thoroughly and finally three of the men broke down and confessed. Between Tokyo and Fukuoka a Mr. A, from Fukuoka to Tokyo a Mr. B, and from Tokyo to Sapporo a Mr. C were not passengers on those planes. All three admitted that Ishida had asked them, under the seal of secrecy, to let him use their names. "One of our men has to travel on very discreet business so if the police should ask, please say that you were on the plane. It will not get you into trouble." This is what Ishida told them. The scandal at the ministry was breaking at the time and they believed an official was making the trip to hush it up. That sort of thing is not uncommon. As you may suppose, they were offered business opportunities by Ishida in return for the favor.

Tatsuo Yasuda flew to Fukuoka, Tokyo, Sapporo and back using the names of A, B and C. He used these different names in order to make it more difficult in the event of an investigation. Yasuda always had in mind the possibility of such an investigation and he laid his plans very carefully.

With the Hokkaido alibi broken and his presence in Hakata established, we were still left with one more problem, the matter of the witnesses. It was clear that Yasuda had planted these witnesses, the two girls from the Koyuki who had watched Sayama and Otoki board the Asakaze at Tokyo Station on January 14. Now, the real relations between Sayama and Otoki are not known, nor have we been able to learn anything about them. Otoki was an unusually discreet young woman and, according to the waitresses at the Koyuki, although she seemed to have a lover no one was certain. They were not trying to protect her; they seemed really not to know. We had been told that Otoki used to get telephone calls from a man but she never brought him to her home. In other words, she seemed to have had a secret lover but he had yet to be identified. Of course, after the double suicide at Kashii everyone assumed that Sayama was the lover.

However, there was something strange about this aspect of the case.

Why did Yasuda need to have someone observe the couple leaving together? Did he merely want a witness to prove that they had boarded the Asakaze? And why did it have to be the Asakaze? Wouldn't any train going to Kyushu have served as well? Since they committed double suicide in Kyushu there was no mistaking where they went. Then what was the reason?

Yasuda had to have someone see Sayama and Otoki boarding the train together. He went to a great deal of trouble to have the witnesses on the platform at the right time. What he really wanted was someone to observe Sayama and Otoki together and to conclude that they were lovers.

Why was this necessary? It is a strange story. After giving the facts much thought I reached the startling conclusion that Sayama and Otoki were not lovers. This had to be so, I decided. Precisely because they were not lovers, Yasuda had to have someone witness their departure and conclude that they were.

I greatly admire your skill in deducing from the dining car receipt that Sayama had traveled to Hakata alone. Your suspicion was aroused by the fact that the receipt was made out for one person, and your daughter's observations on the subject of love and appetite were very enlightening. Otoki got off the train somewhere along the way and Sayama continued alone to Hakata. I came to the conclusion that Sayama and Otoki were only vaguely connected and that they were certainly not lovers.

Yasuda was a good client at the Koyuki, often entertaining his business friends there. Sayama did not frequent the Koyuki but he must have known Otoki. It is even possible that Yasuda, Sayama and Otoki met together at times, unknown to anyone. Sayama and Otoki were certainly acquainted and would naturally talk to each other as they boarded the Asakaze. To a third person they could well have looked like lovers departing on a trip together. That was Yasuda's intention.

Therefore, it must have been Yasuda who arranged for them to travel on the same train. He was probably in a position to do so.

Now, here was Yasuda's problem: It was all very well to plan to have the two waitresses see the couple, but since he had no reason to go to platform 15 he could not take them directly to the Asakaze. They had to come upon the scene naturally. Platform 15 is the one reserved for the departure of the long-distance trains. To take the girls there deliberately would look suspicious. He had to let them observe the scene from another platform. The most natural way to do this would be to use platform 13, the one he always left from when visiting his wife in Kamakura. This would not arouse suspicion. But he was perplexed. From platform 13 one cannot see the trains on platform 15. Trains keep arriving and departing on the intervening tracks and obstruct the view. I believe I mentioned this before. After careful search, however, Yasuda discovered that prior to the Asakaze's departure, for exactly four minutes, from 5:57 to 6:01, the train could be clearly seen from platform 13. These were four valuable minutes. Yes, most precious minutes.

I said earlier that the couple could have taken any train to Kyushu but it was clear now that it had to be the Asakaze, leaving at 6:30. Yasuda had to get them aboard the Asakaze. Other trains bound for Kyushu could not be seen from platform 13. It was brilliant of Yasuda to have discovered this four-minute interval. There can be few, if any, railroad men at Tokyo Station aware of this brief interval.

Thus it became clear that Yasuda had planned the departure of Sayama and Otoki. But this did not solve the greater mystery: the double suicide on Kashii Beach six days later, the undeniable fact that Sayama and Otoki drank fruit juice containing cyanide and died, almost in each other's arms. Both the medical report and the photographs of the scene pointed unmistakably to a case of double suicide.

Here was something I could not understand. Why should these two, who were not lovers, commit suicide together? Surely Sayama and Otoki, who were barely acquainted, would not be so insane as to obey Yasuda's order (if his order it was) to kill themselves. Yet the stark fact of the double suicide destroyed the assumption that they were not lovers, no matter how convinced one was to the contrary. You were obliged to believe that they were intimate since they committed suicide together. I could find no answer to this contradiction.

However, since it was Yasuda's plan to have the two depart together, I could not fail to be suspicious of those suicides on Kashii Beach. Yet there was no denying that they had died there together. No matter how much I thought about it, I could not get past that obvious fact.

But since the beginning had been plotted by Yasuda, I thought I could discern Yasuda's presence at the end also, the tragic end in suicide. I could not dismiss this suspicion from my mind. All the while I was in Hokkaido investigating I could almost see Yasuda standing like a ghost on Kashii Beach the night of the tragedy. I had no idea what part he played. He could not have used hypnotism to make them commit suicide. Yet, as normal human beings, they would not have taken their own lives simply because he ordered them to do so. I didn't understand; nevertheless, I had to have Yasuda on that spot and on that night.

Fortunately, we broke Yasuda's Hokkaido alibi, and we proved that he had left Tokyo by Japan Airlines for Hakata at 3 P.M. on January 20, arriving at Itazuke Airport in Fukuoka at 7:20. Thus, he could have been on Kashii Beach at 9:00, about the time the deaths took place. But when it came to trying to connect Yasuda with the actual suicides, I soon reached a dead end, as if confronted by a wall. I could think of no solution. I was completely baffled and I held my head in my hands.

It was on one of the days when I was feeling desperate that I happened to enter a coffee shop. I like coffee. My boss often makes fun of this, but I was deeply depressed and I wanted to get away from the office. Usually, I go to my favorite shop in Yūraku-chō, but it was raining that day so I stopped in at an unfamiliar place near Hibiya Park.

The shop had a second floor. As I was about to open the front door a young girl approached from the side and we almost collided. She was quite lovely. She was wearing a bright-colored raincoat. I was polite and let her enter first. She smiled at me, went in, and gave her umbrella to the waitress standing near the stairs. I followed and handed over my umbrella also. The waitress, taking us for a couple, quickly tied the two umbrellas together and offered me the check. The girl flushed slightly and I hastened to explain. "No, not together; we're strangers." The waitress apologized, untied the umbrellas and gave us separate checks.

You may think I relate the incident because it flattered me to be taken for the companion of an attractive young girl. Actually, something very different flashed through my mind at the time, something that astounded me. I went upstairs, sat down at one of the tables and for a while didn't even notice the cup of coffee in front of me, which I must have ordered.

The waitress had greeted us as a couple because we happened to enter the shop together. That was natural; almost anyone would have thought so. She drew this hasty inference from the way we had come in the door together. For me, however, the incident started a whole new train of thought.

We-including yourself and the men at your station-had concluded it was a double suicide because Sayama and Otoki were found dead, side by side. Now I understood! They had died separately and at different places. Only after they were dead were the two bodies brought together. Someone gave Sayama the cyanide and he died, and someone gave Otoki the same poison and she died; only then were the two bodies brought to the beach and placed side by side. The two deaths should never have been connected. Since they were similar, we believed it was a single case, but we were wrong.

Don't chide us for immediately concluding it was a case of double suicide when we discovered a man and a woman dead, almost in each other's arms. Love suicides are not uncommon; this is the way the bodies are always found. No one would think of doubting it. And when termed a love suicide, the inquest is never as strict as in the case of a murder. The investigation is generally perfunctory. Tatsuo Yasuda knew this.

I remember something you wrote to me once in a letter: "Sometimes a preconceived opinion will make us overlook the obvious. This is a frightening thing. We call it common sense but it often leaves us with a blind spot." Here was a case in point. A man and a woman are found dead side by side. It is all quite clear. The obvious assumption that it is a love suicide puts an end to any further investigation of the case. And so everyone is deceived. A clever murderer knows this; he will take advantage of this so-called common sense.

This time, the criminal fooled us completely. But he still had reason to feel uneasy. Sayama and Otoki were only slightly connected yet he had to make the double suicide look convincing, he had to give the impression that they were lovers. This is the reason for having the waitresses of the Koyuki witness their departure together from Tokyo Station. He arranged the scene carefully. Nevertheless, a criminal never ceases to worry. In this case, he planned exceptionally well: he used the four-minute interval.

As I look back on it, I see the case built around train and plane schedules, from start to finish. It is buried in timetables. Did Yasuda have any personal knowledge of those things? Doubtful. It looks, rather, as if the crime had been planned by someone with a lively interest in such details.

Let's leave aside for the moment the matter of the deaths of Sayama and Otoki and turn our attention to these timetables.

The figure of a woman comes immediately to mind. She had a special interest in timetables. She even wrote an essay on the subject for some magazine. The piece was full of poetry and sentiment. What may look to us like very boring lists of names and numbers to her were more absorbing than the most exciting novel. From the tall columns of figures she drew inspiration for her poems and travel articles. She had been confined to her bed for a long time with tuberculosis and for her these timetables were a sort of bible, a constant companion in her loneliness. She never tired of them, turning to them as one would to a classic novel, a best seller or the scriptures. She was Yasuda's wife, then convalescing in Kamakura. Her name is Ryōko.

A person suffering from tuberculosis is often said to have a morbidly clear mind. I wonder what was behind that pale mask; what was Ryōko Yasuda thinking? No, not thinking; it would be more accurate perhaps to say plotting. She must have kept playing with those columns of figures, drawing lines up and down and across to form some sort of pattern. I came to the conclusion that the plot was not originally Yasuda's but Ryō-ko's.

Then I remembered the couples at the two Kashii stations the night of the tragedy. One couple, of course, was Sayama and Otoki. Could the other couple have been Yasuda and his wife Ryōko? It was a natural deduction. I found out later I was only half mistaken.

You also said in your letter, "I wonder what part was played by the woman who accompanied Yasuda. If Yasuda was involved in the double suicide he would need a woman accomplice, he could not execute his plan without her help." I've come to appreciate your insight. As soon as I began to suspect Yasuda's wife, I decided to investigate further. But she was at home, convalescing. The question in my mind, of course, was whether she was capable of making the trip to Kyushu. I went to Kamakura and called on her doctor. He told me she was not always confined to her bed. At times, she would visit relatives in nearby Yugawara. Later, I checked her movements on January 20 and found that she was away from the nineteenth to the twenty-first. This appeared in the doctor's records. He sees her only twice a week and had made a house call on the twenty-second. She was running a temperature that day and he asked for the reason. She told him, "I went to Yugawara on the nineteenth and returned this morning. I may be a little tired."

I knew at once what that meant. If she left on the night of the nineteenth, she would reach Hakata the following morning. She could therefore have been at the scene of the suicides in time to see them occur. Yugawara must be a lie; she had gone to Kyushu, I felt sure. I went to her home, lured the old servant out of the house and pressed her till finally I learned that Ryōko had left for Yugawara about two in the afternoon in a rented car.

I located the driver.

She told the driver first to take her to Yugawara. At Yugawara, she ordered him to continue to Atami. He left her there at an inn called Kaifuso and returned to Kamakura.

I was excited. I left immediately for Atami and checked the Kaifuso. This is the information I gathered at the inn: Ryōko visited a woman who was a guest. This woman had arrived on the night of January 14, a little after eight o'clock, and had been occupying the room for five days. From her age and the description, there was no doubt it was Otoki. Of course she had not used her real name; she was registered as Yukiko Sugawara. You will remember that Sugawara was also the name Sayama used at the Tambaya Inn in Hakata. When Ryōko first arrived she asked to see Miss Sugawara. Therefore it was evident that all of this had been planned by Sayama, Otoki and Ryōko. No, not planned; plotted, by Ryōko Yasuda. The two women had dinner together in Otoki's room and left the inn about ten o'clock. Otoki's bill was paid by Ryōko.

Now, Otoki's arrival at the inn around eight o'clock on the fourteenth makes it clear that she came on the Asakaze that pulls in to Atami Station at 7:58. She had traveled with Sayama only as far as Atami. Your reasoning, therefore, with regard to the dining car receipt "for one person" was correct.

The two women left the inn about 10 P.M. on the nineteenth. Checking the timetable, I found that the express Tsukushi, bound for Hakata, left Atami at 10:25. This train arrived at Hakata, the terminus, at 7:45 P.M. on the twentieth.

All the pieces fitted. It was about 8 P.M. when a woman telephoned Sayama at the Tambaya Inn in Hakata. The two women must have called him as soon as they got off the train at Hakata.

I was able to get this far before being stopped once again. Was it Otoki or Ryōko who telephoned Sayama? At first I thought it was Otoki but quickly realized this could not be. Since there was nothing between the two, he would not respond if Otoki called. Sayama had been waiting impatiently for a week for the telephone call so it could not be Otoki. Most probably, it was Ryōko. Because Ryōko was Yasuda's wife and could speak for him. In fact, Sayama was waiting for Yasuda to arrive. So if Ryōko said she had come in his stead, Sayama would react immediately.

Ryōko met Sayama in order to talk to him about the things that were worrying him. But first she led him to Kashii Beach. We don't know exactly what she said but she must have told him her message required the utmost secrecy and she therefore must choose some quiet spot. Kashii Beach was certainly an important feature of the plan.

What worried Sayama were the developments in the bribery case at the ministry. As assistant section chief, he knew all the facts and was aware that he was about to be arrested. It was Ishida, the division chief, who urged him to flee to Hakata under pretense of taking a holiday. Ishida was the central figure in the scandal and if Sayama were arrested Ishida would be in grave danger. So he persuaded Sayama to escape to Hakata. He even arranged for him to take the Asakaze on the fourteenth. He told him that Yasuda would give him further instructions, and asked him to wait at the inn in Hakata.

Sayama did not question these orders from his superior. We should not be too surprised at this. He knew his testimony would be damaging to the man who was his boss and who had helped him in his career. At the assistant section chief level there are many men like Sayama. I know some who have committed suicide under similar circumstances. In fact, suicide is what the criminal in this case was hoping for.

Ishida probably told Sayama that Yasuda would find a way to cover up the scandal and that he should stay away until it blew over. Therefore Sayama must have been anxiously waiting for Yasuda to arrive. But Yasuda did not appear; his wife came instead. Sayama knew Ryōko from previous visits to the Yasuda home. In fact, Yasuda may have invited Sayama to his house in Kamakura purposely to meet Ryōko.

These two-Ryōko and Sayama-came out of the Kashii main railway station unaware that immediately following them were Yasuda and Otoki. The latter got off at the Nishitetsu Kashii Station and took the same road to the beach. No, it was only Sayama who was in the dark; Ryōko knew every detail of the plot. Ryōko talked to Sayama. She told him everything was working out well and not to worry. The night was cold and she offered him whiskey. Sayama liked whiskey; he accepted it eagerly. It contained the cyanide and he dropped dead at her feet. The bottle of fruit juice containing cyanide was left at the scene to cover up the murder.

Yasuda was not far behind. He had arrived at Itazuke Airport at 7:20 on a Japan Airlines plane. He met Otoki somewhere, probably by prearrangement; Ryōko must have delivered the message. Otoki then accompanied Yasuda to the beach. On the way she was overheard by a passerby to exclaim, "What a lonely place!"

On the dark and deserted beach Yasuda offered Otoki a drink containing cyanide. Then he picked her up and placed her body beside Sayama who was already dead. Ryōko was standing nearby. Very likely not more than twenty meters separated the exact spots where Otoki and Sayama met their deaths. It was night and Otoki could not have seen the other couple.

After killing Otoki, Yasuda probably called, "Ryōko!" and from out of the dark Ryōko must have answered, "Yes. Here I am." And with Otoki's body in his arms, Yasuda started making his way in the direction of the voice. I cannot imagine a more dreadful scene.

You remember the beach, I am sure; we looked at it together and found it very rocky. There would be no footprints even if one were to carry a heavy burden. Everything had been skillfully planned. Yasuda must have known the beach well and chose it for the scene of the crime.

It was a double murder, planned by Yasuda and his wife and made to look like a love suicide. Ryōko not only helped to plan it; she helped to carry it out. While Otoki, without a doubt, innocently obeyed the instructions she had received from Yasuda and his wife.

A strange feature of the case is the relationship between Otoki, Yasuda and Ryōko. As you may have gathered from the foregoing, it is evident that Yasuda and Otoki had been lovers. The affair was kept very secret; no one was aware of it. It must have developed during the time Yasuda was frequenting the Koyuki. Otoki had charge of the parties he gave there. The man who sometimes telephoned her at her apartment and with whom she spent the nights away was Yasuda.

But Ryōko's attitude is hard to understand. Why did she travel with Otoki and have dinner with her? The girl was her husband's mistress and therefore her rival. I understood the situation when I learned that it was Ryōko who paid Otoki's hotel bill at Atami. Ryōko was aware of the liaison and apparently had agreed to it. She even went so far as to give Otoki a monthly allowance. Remember: Ryōko was a very sick woman; she had been forbidden by her doctor to have intimate relations with her husband. In other words, Otoki was Yasuda's official mistress, with Ryōko's approval. It was a curious triangle. We may find it hard to accept but these situations do exist in modern society. Of course, it was common practice in feudal times.

At first they probably planned to have it look as if Sayama alone had committed suicide. But this was dangerous. Since he would leave no letter, it would appear suspect. So they decided on the love suicide. In such a case, the police investigation is seldom strict, and sometimes there is no autopsy. And there would be no follow-up. This was a safer way to commit the murder. Poor Otoki was chosen to be the innocent partner in the double suicide.

Yasuda had no real affection for Otoki. To him, she did not count. True, she was his mistress, but he could easily find another. As for Ryōko, she looked upon the girl simply as a pawn in her husband's plans; she used her as a necessary figure in the fake suicide. Yet deep in her heart she must have hated Otoki. Ry5ko was really a frightening woman. Her mind was as sharp as a sword and as cold as the blood in her veins. After the murders she carefully arranged the folds of Otoki's kimono and changed the girl's soiled socks for a fresh pair she had brought along expressly to make it appear as if Otoki had been prepared to die, that she had done so willingly. Ryōko thought of everything.

That night the Yasudas stayed at Hakata. He took the first plane back to Tokyo the following morning, then changed at Haneda to a connecting plane for Hokkaido. Ryōko returned to Kamakura by train.

The reason why Yasuda left for Hakata on the twentieth, a full six days after Otoki and Sayama, was because he was afraid it would arouse suspicion if he followed them too closely. Actually, after Otoki's departure on the fourteenth he showed up at the Koyuki Restaurant two or three days in succession. He even listened calmly while the waitresses talked about Otoki and her trip with a lover. He had to give the impression that he was in no way involved. Otoki was kept waiting at Atami for five days.

Thus Tatsuo Yasuda, prompted by Division Chief Ishida to whom he was greatly obligated, disposed of Assistant Section Chief Sayama. This saved Ishida. And not Ishida alone; there were other government officials under whom Sayama worked who heaved a sigh of relief when they learned of his death. And Tatsuo Yasuda, one of Tokyo's leading dealers in machinery, came out of it with Ishida now deeply in his debt.

The relations between Yasuda and Ishida were closer than was known to outsiders. Yasuda must have worked hard on Ishida to further his business with the X Ministry. I am sure he gave him many gifts and invited him to many parties. We may take this for granted from the fact that Ishida was at the center of the scandals. Moreover, we know the sort of man he is. Up to this time, Yasuda had not had particularly important business dealings with the ministry. Therefore, we were aware only of their overt relations and couldn't see what else was going on. Yasuda was cultivating Ishida with an eye to the future, using to the full his charm and his money. He succeeded in winning him over. He knew the division chief was worried about his involvement in the scandals that were coming to light, and he took upon himself the responsibility for eliminating Sayama who held the key to the investigation within the ministry. It is even possible that it was Yasuda who suggested this solution and got Ishida to accept. To be sure, Ishida had no intention at the start of murdering Sayama. He probably wanted only to drive him to the point of suicide, as has happened before in similar cases. But that did not seem possible. Therefore Yasuda thought of murder, a murder which would be made to look like suicide. A double suicide would be even more convincing. In the case of a simple suicide, there is always the suspicion of murder, but when a double suicide occurs and a woman is involved, there is far less cause to be suspicious. Yasuda was very clever. As it happened, we were all deceived.

Ishida may not have suspected that the plot would lead to murder. In the belief that Yasuda only intended to drive Sayama to suicide, he willingly entered into the plan. He procured the blank passenger forms on the Sei-kan ferry; he made the false statements about the trip to Hokkaido, and he arranged for the use of assumed names on the different planes. Because of his position, he travels easily and often and it is simple for him to take along an assistant who will do as he is told.

Later, when he learned that Sayama and his woman companion had committed suicide by taking cyanide, he took fright. He was certain Yasuda had done it. From that moment, I believe Yasuda started to threaten, to put pressure on him. Ishida now found himself at the mercy of this man. I am sure it was at Yasuda's suggestion that he sent Sasaki, a member of his staff, to the Metropolitan Police Board to give evidence on the train trip in Hokkaido. Of course, this turned out to be Yasuda's undoing.

Yasuda had lost interest in Otoki and used her as an instrument in the murder of Sayama. The motive for Ryōko's participation was probably more than just a desire to help her husband. She could have wanted to kill Otoki, even though she accepted her as her husband's mistress. This had not changed her feelings as a woman and wife. Because Ryōko, a wife in name only, deep in her heart was probably more than normally jealous. The white fire of jealousy was burning within her like phosphorous, waiting for an opportunity to burst into flames. Otoki is the real victim of the drama. Yasuda himself may not have known whether his real purpose was to kill Sayama in order to put Ishida in his debt, or to get rid of Otoki who had become a burden to him.

All that I have written to you is my own analysis of the case- aided by the letter the Yasudas left.

Yes, Tatsuo Yasuda and his wife Ryōko were found dead in their house in Kamakura when we arrived to arrest them. They had taken cyanide. This time there was no attempt at mystification. Tatsuo Yasuda knew we were on his trail. He took his own life, followed by his wife whose physical condition had become critical. Yasuda left no message; it was Ryōko who wrote the letter. In it she admits the crime. Frankly, I am skeptical. I find it hard to accept that a man as tough as Yasuda would commit suicide. I believe that Ryōko, who knew her end was near, could have planned it and taken her husband with her. She was that kind of a woman.

I must admit I was relieved to find the Yasudas dead, because there is almost no material evidence in this murder case. It is all circumstantial. I am even surprised we were able to secure a warrant for their arrest. It was the type of case which, if brought to trial, one could not be sure of the outcome.

Speaking of the lack of evidence, this applies also to Division Chief Ishida. He was transferred to another division and, believe it or not, was given a promotion. This may appear incredible to you, but such things happen. He will probably become a bureau chief or a vice-minister, and may even run for a seat in the Diet. I feel sorry for these poor subordinates of his whom he uses as stepping stones. However, even if they know they are being abused, they will try to stay in his good graces by showing their loyalty. Their desire for advancement is pathetic. Which reminds me: Kitarō Sasaki, the man who made the trip to Hokkaido with Ishida and who was of help to Yasuda, was made section chief. Here again, there is nothing we can do. The Yasudas are dead.

The whole case has left a bad taste in my mouth. Sitting here at home, completely relaxed, a glass of cold beer at my elbow, I don't have the satisfaction I generally feel when a case is solved and the criminal has been turned over to the Public Prosecutor. This is a very long letter; I trust you were not bored. I expect to take my vacation this autumn and, at your kind suggestion, my wife and I will visit you in Kyushu.

With best wishes,

Kiichi Mihara