Points And Lines

6 A Four Minute Gap

Kiichi Mihara arrived at Tokyo Station right on schedule. He felt the need of a good cup of coffee after the long train ride from Kyushu. He took a taxi and headed for his favorite coffee shop.

The waitress greeted him with a smile. "You've been away a long time," she said as she took his order.

Mihara came to this shop for coffee almost every other day. The girl has made the remark because he had been absent five or six days; she knew nothing of his trip to Kyushu, of course. He noted several familiar faces in the shop. Nothing had changed while he away; for the waitresses and the customers the days seemed to have passed uneventfully. And not for them only: on the Ginza itself, which he could glimpse through the window, everything looked unchanged. Mihara felt as if he alone had stepped out of the picture for a while. Nobody knew how he had spent those blank days. They appeared to be little interested in Mihara, despite what he had seen or done. This was natural, but the thought left him a little depressed.

The coffee was good. This was one thing he had missed in the country. He emptied his cup, picked up his bag and, ignoring the extravagance, hailed a taxi and drove to the Metropolitan Police Board.

He opened the door marked with the name of Inspector Kasai of the 2nd Detective Section and entered the room. His boss was at his desk. "I've just returned, sir."

The inspector turned his head to greet him. "Welcome back. Must have been a bit strenuous." He smiled. They were alone except for a new recruit who brought Mihara a cup of tea.

"How was it?"

Mihara opened his bag and took out the materials concerning the suicides of Sayama and Otoki which he had borrowed from the Hakata Police Station. "Here are the exhibits. The Fukuoka police have concluded it is a simple case of double suicide and are treating it accordingly."

"Hmm." The inspector looked at the photographs and read the results of the autopsies and the report. "I see. A case of love suicide, eh?" he muttered as he put aside the document that he had been studying. He sounded as if he were ready to accept the verdict.

"I'm sorry to have sent you on a futile assignment."

"No, not entirely futile."

Inspector Kasai looked up at Mihara, surprise in his glance. "What do you mean?"

"I learned some interesting facts."

"Hmm, let me hear them."

"What I have to say is not the official opinion of the Fukuoka police. Torigai, one of their veterans, gave me some interesting details." Mihara then told him about the dining car receipt and the walking time between the two Kashii stations.

"Hmm, the assumption regarding the dining car receipt is certainly interesting," said the inspector. "Otoki is believed to have left the train at Atami or Shizuoka; is that right? Then, after four or five days, spent no one knows where, she is presumed to have appeared in Fukuoka and telephoned Sayama who had arrived earlier. Is that the way you see it?"

"Exactly," said Mihara.

"We must check and find out why Sayama let Otoki stop off along the way, and what he had her do during those four or five days at Atami or Shizuoka."

"Chief, I see you too have your doubts. There's nothing suspicious about the double suicide, as these photos show, but you too believe, don't you, that there is something more to the case, something still obscure?"

The inspector looked away for a moment. "Mihara, we may be mistaken. But Sayama's death is such a serious blow to the bribery case I'd even want to doubt his suicide. It may just be our professional instinct, aroused in spite of us."

The inspector could be right: perhaps their state of mind was leading them astray. Nevertheless, Mihara wanted to investigate further. He was not ready to accept the obvious verdict. He felt he could not rest with so many doubts unresolved. When he spoke his mind the inspector merely nodded. He seemed to agree.

"Okay. Let's look into it further, although it may lead us nowhere. As you know, the Asakaze is a super-express; even the third class seats are reserved. If Otoki did get off somewhere along the way her seat would have become vacant. Check into that. I'll send someone to question the conductor of the train."

Kiichi Mihara went to Tokyo Station the following day. His head was clear and he felt unusually fit, probably because he had slept well the night before. He was young and one good night's rest was all he needed.

He climbed the stairs to platform 13 and stood facing the Yaesuguchi exits. He remained there for over an hour, as if waiting for someone.

It would be incorrect to say that he was looking at the exits themselves. The trains continually passing in front of him obstructed his view and he was unable to see any distance. Platform 13 was used only by the Yokosuka Line which meant that trains made up of many cars were constantly arriving and departing. Trains arrived and departed also from platform 14. On account of this ceaseless movement, Mihara could not see platform 15 from where he stood on platform 13. Even when a train pulled away from platform 13 there would be one alongside 14 to block the view. Since Tokyo Station is a main point of departure, trains waited a long while at their respective platforms. By the time one left from platform 14, another would have arrived at 13. Thus, the tracks between platforms 13 and 15 were never clear and he found it impossible to get an unobstructed view of track 15 from platform 13.

Mihara's hunch was correct. He had received the first hint in something Detective Torigai had said to him at Hakata Station. Now I understand, he said to himself. Although I've stood here for over an hour, I've not been able to see platform 15. What does this mean? Two witnesses, standing here on platform 13, state they actually saw Sayama and Otoki board the Asakaze at platform 15. Could they have had a clear view, even briefly, at the time they claim? Mihara considered the question for a moment longer, then walked along the platform and down the steps to the station offices.

He went to the office of the station master. After introducing himself he said, "I'm sorry to trouble you but I have a question to ask. Before the Asakaze leaves at 6:30 P.M. from platform 15, can it be seen at any time from platform 13?" The railway official was an older man. He looked at Mihara curiously.

"Are you asking if at any time the tracks between the two platforms are entirely clear?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I believe there is always one train or another obstructing the view. But let me check, to make sure. Please wait a moment." He went to his desk and brought out the train charts. His fingers followed the intricate lines that criss-crossed the paper. Suddenly, he remarked, "There is a break! For a short period there are no trains on tracks 13 and 14 and you should be able to see the Asakaze at platform 15. Well, I never! That is most unusual!" He sounded as if he had discovered something extraordinary.

"There is a break? Then it is possible to see the train?" Mihara was disappointed, but he suddenly became tense when he heard the station master's next words: "It is possible, but only for four minutes."

"Only four minutes?" Mihara's eyes widened. His heart missed a beat. "Please explain that."

"To be precise," the official began, "the Asakaze pulls in on track 15 at 5:49 and leaves at 6:30. It remains at platform 15 for forty-one minutes. Now let's see the arrivals and departures of trains on tracks 13 and 14. On track 13, on the Yokosuka Line, train No. 1703 arrives at 5:46, leaves at 5:57. then, at 6:01, No. 1801 arrives and leaves again at 6:12. After that Yokosuka Line train has departed the regular No. 341, bound for Shizu-oka, arrives at platform 14 and remains till 6:35, blocking the view of the Asakaze on track 15."

Mihara took out his notebook. He could not take in the details from just hearing them once. The station master, noticing this, said, "This is probably difficult to follow. Let me write it down for you," and he gave him an extract of the timetable.

Returning to the Metropolitan Police Board Mihara studied the timetable he had received, then took a sheet of paper from his desk and made a diagram of it. It now became clear to him: from 5:57, when the Yokosuka Line train No. 1703 left from platform 13, to 6:01, when No. 1801 arrived, was exactly four minutes. During that brief interval the tracks were clear and there was an unobstructed view of the Asakaze from platform 13. This meant that the group who saw Sayama and Otoki board the Asakaze happened to be standing on platform 13 during those four minutes.

Mihara knew the importance of the testimony given by these eyewitnesses. Their statements that Sayama and Otoki, talking together intimately, had boarded the Asakaze, provided the basis for establishing the love suicide theory. There was no other evidence that they were intimate. Although it was believed that both had had secret love affairs, the only people actually to observe them together were the witnesses, who chanced to see them while standing on platform 13 during those four minutes. How extraordinary that they should have been there at that particular moment, Mihara remarked to himself. Whereupon, another thought, born of the first one, flashed through his mind. Was it mere chance? There was no end to speculation when one started questioning these strange coincidences. However, this one, occurring within a time limit of four minutes, made Mihara feel there was perhaps more to it than he had at first surmised.

Who were the eyewitnesses? Two waitresses and a client from the Koyuki Restaurant. The client was leaving for Kamakura and the waitresses accompanied him to platform 13 to see him off. While there, they saw Sayama and Otoki board the Asakaze. Mihara had these facts from Yaeko, one of the two waitresses, before he had left for Fukuoka. He had listened to her story at the time without giving it particular attention, but he felt now that he should hear it once again, and perhaps listen more attentively.

Mihara arrived at the Koyuki in Akasaka later that morning and found Yaeko sweeping the rooms. She was in slacks.

"I'm sorry this place is so untidy," she said, blushing a little.

"Thank you for your help the other day," Mihara said. "I'd like to refer again to what you said. You told me how you and another waitress accompanied a customer to Tokyo Station and there you saw Mr. Sayama and Otoki on another platform."

Yaeko nodded.

"I forgot to ask you for the name of the customer." Yaeko looked at him sharply.

Perceiving the girl's concern, Mihara tried to reassure her. Good customers are important to a restaurant and Mihara understood her reluctance to answer. "Don't worry. I won't bother him. I want his name only for reference."

"His name is Tatsuo Yasuda," Yaeko said, reluctantly.

"Tatsuo Yasuda. What's his business?"

"I've heard that he has a company in the Nihombashi district that manufactures machinery."

"I see. Is he an old customer?"

"He's been coming here for about three or four years. Otoki was generally in charge of his parties."

"That's why he knew her well, I suppose. Let me ask you something. Who saw Otoki first from the platform where you were standing?"

"Mr. Yasuda. He said, 'Isn't that Otoki?' and pointed her out to Tomiko and me."

"He did, did he?" Mihara became silent. He seemed to be preparing the next question, or perhaps his thoughts were on something quite different.

Mihara smiled and broke the silence. "When you and Tomiko saw Mr. Yasuda off, did you decide to do that on the spur of the moment?"

"Yes. We decided to do it at dinner that afternoon. Mr. Yasuda treated us to dinner at the Coq d'Or on the Ginza."

"Oh, he treated you to dinner? I suppose you made the date previously?"

"Yes. Mr. Yasuda was here the night before. It was then he invited us to join him on the Ginza at half-past three the next afternoon."

"I see. At 3:30. Then?"

"When we were almost through dinner Mr. Yasuda told us he was going to Kamakura and asked us to see him off at the station. So Tomiko and I went along."

"What time was that?"

"Let me see!" Yaeko inclined her head, as if in thought. "Yes, I asked him what train he was taking and he said the 6:12 on the Yokosuka Line. I remember him saying that it was already 5:35, so if we left right away we'd be there in time."

"The 6:12 on the Yokosuka Line." Mihara recalled the diagram he had made the night before. The 6:12 arrived at platform 13 at 6:01. Since Yasuda could see the Asakaze on track 15, it meant that they had arrived on platform 13 before 6:01.

"When the three of you arrived at platform 13, had the Yokosuka Line train already pulled in?"

"No, not yet." Yaeko answered at once.

"Then it must have arrived about 6 or a little before?" Mihara asked, so quietly it was more a comment than a question.

"Yes, the platform clock showed a couple of minutes before 6."

"You were quick to notice that."

"That's because Mr. Yasuda kept looking at his watch while we were in the taxi. Naturally, I began to worry about the time, too, and hoped he wouldn't miss the 6:12 train."

"You say Mr. Yasuda kept looking at his watch?"

"Oh, many times. Even while we were still at the Coq d'Or."

Mihara started thinking. He was deep in thought, even after he left Yaeko and got on the bus.

Yasuda had kept looking at his watch. Was this simply because he wanted to catch a train? Could it be that he was interested in catching something else? Perhaps he wanted to be in time for the four-minute interval.

In order to get a clear view of the Asakaze it could be neither before nor after those four minutes. If they arrived earlier, the 5:57 Yokosuka Line train would still be at the station and Yasuda would have to take it to Kamakura. Later, the 6:01 would have pulled in and blocked the view of the Asakaze. Did Yasuda keep worrying about the time because he was aiming to arrive at the station during those four minutes? Mihara wondered whether he was being too suspicious. He tried to dismiss the questions that assailed him but found it impossible. The more thought he gave to the facts the more suspicious he became.

Why did Yasuda have to plan it this way? The answer was simple if his suspicions were correct. Yasuda wanted Yaeko and Tomiko to see Sayama and Otoki board the super-express Asakaze; he wanted them there as eyewitnesses.

His heart beat faster. The figure of the man called Tatsuo Yasuda grew large in his mind. I must see him, he decided.

He acted upon it at once. That same afternoon he went to Yasuda's office. The reception room was bright with the afternoon sun pouring in through the window. Tatsuo Yasuda, Mihara's business card in his hand and smiling pleasantly, entered the room and asked his visitor to take a seat.