The Inugami Curse

by Seishi Yokomizo

  kiyo inugami

  Kindaichi showed little interest in this confession. Without a word, he put the piece of stationery back inside the envelope and returned it to Chief Tachibana.

  “Did he have this on him?”

  “Yes, in one of his pockets.”

  “But if he intended to kill himself, why didn’t he just go ahead and do it? Why did he see the need to resist the police in that way?”

  Chief Tachibana knitted his eyebrows. “What do you mean, Mr. Kindaichi? Are you saying that Kiyo had no intention of killing himself? But—you were there yesterday, so you should know—if one of my men hadn’t managed to shoot him in the hand, Kiyo would have killed himself for sure.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Chief. Yes, Kiyo did in fact intend to kill himself, but he wanted to do it spectacularly and dramatically, and draw as much attention to himself as possible. Doing so would enhance the effect of his confession.”

  Chief Tachibana seemed unconvinced, but Kindaichi ignored the expression on his face. “Actually, what I said just now is wrong. I asked why Kiyo had seen the need to resist the police, but that’s wrong. Kiyo wasn’t resisting at all. He was just pretending to. He never pointed his gun at any policeman but always at the snow. You saw that too, didn’t you, Chief?”

  “Now that you mention it, I thought it a bit strange myself.”

  Kindaichi happily scratched his head. “Please remember that well, Chief. It’ll serve as evidence in his favor when his sentence is determined.”

  Although Chief Tachibana again screwed up his face in dissatisfaction, Kindaichi paid that no heed and continued, “By the way, did Kiyo say anything specific about this confession—exactly how he killed the victims, for example?”

  “Well, actually,” said Chief Tachibana with a scowl, “he refuses to say anything at all. He just keeps insisting that he is guilty of all the murders and that no one else is involved. He won’t say anything else.”

  “Just as I thought. But Mr. Kiyo—” Kindaichi turned his affable smile toward Kiyo, who all this time had remained with his head hung in silence. His face indeed looked identical to that rubber mask his imposter had been wearing. But while the mask lacked all life and expression, the face in front of them now was most human and racked with a heartbreaking look of agony. Though the tan the sun of Southeast Asia had given him still remained, his face was haggard and drawn. Despite that, he was not unkempt. He was clean shaven and his hair—although of course disheveled—was neatly cut, as if he had recently been to a barber.

  Kindaichi, for some reason, gazed gleefully at Kiyo’s neatly trimmed hair. “But Mr. Kiyo,” he said again, “it’s simply not possible for you to have committed all those murders. In the case of Toyoichiro Wakabayashi, for example, it was October 18 when he was killed, but it wasn’t until November 12 that you returned to Hakata from Burma using the name Sanpei Yamada. You’ve probably already heard from the chief, but the night Mr. Také was killed, the night of November 15, a man who appeared to be a repatriated soldier calling himself Sanpei Yamada spent a night at the Kashiwaya Inn in Lower Nasu. Moreover, after he left the inn, they found in his room a bloody towel printed with the words ‘Hakata Friends of Returning Veterans.’ So, when the police made inquiries to Hakata, they found that there had been a man calling himself Sanpei Yamada among the shipload of repatriates who arrived in Hakata on November 12. Moreover, this man gave as his final destination the address 3-21 Kojimachi, Tokyo, the same address we have from the Kashiwaya Inn and the address of your house in Tokyo. In other words, you returned to Japan using an assumed name, but when asked for an address you couldn’t think of an appropriate one, and so you gave that of your house in Tokyo.”

  Kiyo remained sitting in silence. It seemed that the others were listening more attentively to Kindaichi’s monologue than he was.

  “Now the Sanpei Yamada who arrived in Hakata on November 12 departed the following day for Tokyo. Since it would have been possible for him to make it to the Kashiwaya Inn in Lower Nasu on the night of the 15th, it follows that the Sanpei Yamada who appeared at the Kashiwaya Inn on the night of the 15th and the repatriated soldier called Sanpei Yamada who landed in Hakata on the 12th are one and the same, that is, that they both are you. Mr. Kiyo, do you understand what I’m trying to say? In other words, how is it possible for you, who arrived in Hakata only on November 12, to have been the one who committed the murder of Toyoichiro Wakabayashi on October 18?”

  As everyone watched Kiyo with bated breath, he nervously raised his face for the first time.

  “I… I…” he said, lips trembling. “I don’t know anything about the Wakabayashi murder. I’m just talking about the three people from this house who were killed. The Wakabayashi murder has nothing to do with this case.”

  At that, Kindaichi suddenly began scratching his head with its tangled mess of hair so furiously that Kiyo, who was not familiar with Kindaichi’s habit, grew wide-eyed in surprise.

  “Ch-Chief, did you hear him just now? Mr. Kiyo tacitly admitted that he is the Sanpei Yamada who returned to Hakata on November 12 and the Sanpei Yamada who appeared at the Kashiwaya Inn on November 15.”

  Recognizing that he had been had, Kiyo glared, a fierce gleam flashing in his eyes. Then, as resignation overtook him, his shoulders slumped and his head drooped forward.

  Beaming, Kindaichi said, “I didn’t mean to trick you, Mr. Kiyo, but I did want to confirm that. We’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble now. By the way, it hasn’t been clearly proven yet that the Wakabayashi murder is connected with the Inugami murders, but common sense would indicate that the same person was responsible. Let’s leave that aside for now, though, and turn to the last murder, the murder of the fake Kiyo Inugami. He was killed sometime between ten and eleven on the night of the 12th, but the autopsy report stated that it was about an hour after that when the body was plunged head-first into the lake. Mr. Kiyo, were you here, that is, in Nasu, at that time?”

  Kiyo remained silent, now determined never to open his mouth again. Kindaichi smiled broadly and rang for the maid. When she appeared, he said, “Could you bring in the people who are waiting in the other room, please?”

  The maid left and returned immediately with two men, both young, one wearing a black jacket with a stand-up collar and the other wearing the khaki uniform worn by repatriated soldiers. Chief Tachibana frowned in puzzlement.

  “Chief, let me introduce these gentlemen to you. This is Mr. Keikichi Ueda, who works at the Upper Nasu train station. He was on duty taking tickets at the exit gate when the train from Tokyo arrived in Upper Nasu at 9:05 on the night of the 13th. The other gentleman is Mr. Ryuta Oguchi, a pedicab driver, who was waiting to pick up fares in front of the station around the same time. Now, Mr. Ueda, Mr. Oguchi, do you recognize this man?”

  As Kindaichi pointed to Kiyo, the two men nodded immediately.

  “That man,” began the station employee, who must have already prepared what he was going to say, “is one of the passengers who got off the train from Tokyo that arrived at Upper Nasu Station at 9:05 p.m. on the night of the 13th. I remember well, because that was the night it was snowing so hard and he was acting rather strangely. His ticket had been issued at Shinjuku Station in Tokyo.”

  The pedicab driver added, “I remember him, too. When the 9:05 train from Tokyo arrived on the night of the 13th, I was waiting to pick up fares outside the station, but only a few people got off that train. I asked this man if he wanted a ride, but he didn’t say a word, kind of turned his face away, and walked quickly away in the snow. I’m positive. The night of the big snowfall.”

  “I see. You might be summoned by the police again sometime, but that’s all for now. Thank you very much.”

  When the two witnesses had left, Kindaichi turned to Chief Tachibana. “This morning, I took Mr. Kiyo’s photograph and made inquiries at Upper Nasu Station. His hair—it bothered me, because it looks like it’s only been three or four days since it was last cut. But Mr. Kiyo would n
ever get a haircut around here, for he would not be able to hide his face at the barbershop, and even if the barber himself did not know Mr. Kiyo, he couldn’t be certain someone who knew him wouldn’t walk in. If Mr. Kiyo had gotten a haircut, therefore, it had to be somewhere else, so I went to the station to find out when he had arrived in Nasu. If he had been hiding his face, the photograph wouldn’t have done any good, but I assumed that he probably wasn’t doing that anymore. After all, he is, as you see, dressed in the manner of a repatriated soldier, but around Nasu these days, everybody is on the look-out for a man dressed like a repatriated soldier who is hiding his face. So, while doing his best to avoid attracting attention, Mr. Kiyo could not hide his face, and he ended up being seen and remembered by those two witnesses.”

  Kindaichi then turned to Kokin Miyakawa. “Mrs. Miyakawa, you also arrived by train at Upper Nasu Station at 9:05 p.m. on the 13th, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.” Kokin’s voice was so soft as to be barely audible.

  “You had read about Kiyo’s murder in the evening paper in Tokyo and had rushed here in shock?”

  “Yes.”

  Kindaichi looked at Chief Tachibana with a smile. “Chief, do you see? Mrs. Miyakawa learned about the murder in the evening paper and rushed here from Tokyo. That means that Mr. Kiyo, who arrived from Tokyo on the same train, could also have read the evening paper in Tokyo. At least that’s a possibility. In other words, Mr. Kiyo, too, could have read about the murder of his imposter in the evening paper and hastened to Nasu in dismay.”

  “But what for?”

  “To pretend to kill Miss Tamayo.”

  “Pretend? Did you say pretend?” Tamayo’s face jerked up. Color rose to her face, and as she looked at Kindaichi, her eyes filled with a strange ardor and shine.

  Kindaichi answered in a comforting tone. “That’s right, pretend. Mr. Kiyo had no intention whatsoever of really killing you. He just pretended to try to kill you so his confession would be more effective.”

  Suddenly, emotion consumed Tamayo’s body. Shaking violently, she stared back at Kindaichi, eyes wide with feeling, but then her eyes suddenly grew misty, the tears began to flow, and soon she was sobbing uncontrollably, choking on her tears.

  Shizuma and Kiyo

  Tamayo’s outburst surprised even Kindaichi, and he remained dumbfounded for a while, staring at her. Kindaichi had always thought Tamayo a strong woman—which she indeed was. He had thought, however, that her strength unfortunately often made her unfeminine. The Tamayo weeping in front of him now, however, was a pitiful creature, sending forth a painful message of solitude with every sob. He thought he was seeing her soul for the first time.

  Kindaichi cleared his throat and said, “Miss Tamayo, was what happened the other day… was Mr. Kiyo’s attempt on your life such a shock to you?”

  “I… I…” Tamayo continued weeping audibly, her hands pressed to her face. “I just couldn’t believe Kiyo was guilty of those murders. So… so… when he tried to kill me, I thought maybe he had done so because he suspected me of being the murderer. I couldn’t bear that. It was so painful. I don’t care what anybody else thinks. I don’t care at all. But I just couldn’t bear for Kiyo to think me a murderer. No, no, I couldn’t bear that.” Tamayo began weeping passionately again, shoulders shaking.

  Kindaichi turned to Kiyo. “Mr. Kiyo, did you hear what she said? In your attempt to protect someone, you nearly killed Miss Tamayo’s soul. You should think more carefully before you act. Miss Tamayo, don’t cry any more. Why did an intelligent woman like yourself not realize that the attack on you the other day was just a charade? After all, Mr. Kiyo had a gun, so if he had really wanted to kill you, he could have done so with a single bullet. If he were planning to kill you and then to escape unscathed, that would be one thing, but he was prepared to kill himself from the first. It’s not that he tried to kill you, failed, was chased down by the police, and then tried to commit suicide when there was no way out—that’s just not a plausible scenario, since he already had a signed confession in his pocket. No doubt he had it with him even before he left Tokyo, because I can’t believe he would stop to buy stationery and an envelope while he was running from the police after his attack on you. No, he was determined to take his own life even before he left Tokyo. A man who is prepared to die would not be concerned about a gunshot being heard. So, on the night of the 13th, if Mr. Kiyo had really wanted to kill you, he could have shot you dead and then killed himself as well, there and then. Following that line of reasoning, you can see that the attack of that night was a charade.”

  “I understand,” Tamayo answered quietly. She was no longer crying, and as she gazed at Kindaichi, her eyes were filled with indescribable gentleness and gratitude. “You have saved me from the agony of hell. How can I ever thank you?”

  They were the first tender words he had heard from her. Kindaichi, totally abashed, stammered, “Oh, i-i-it’s nothing, n-n-nothing at all,” and briskly scratched his head all around. Soon, however, he swallowed hard and continued. “Now. So we know that Mr. Kiyo came here from Tokyo on the night of the 13th and that he pretended to attack Miss Tamayo. We still cannot state positively, however, that he is unconnected with the murder of the fake Kiyo on the night of the 12th, because it would have been possible for him to kill his imposter that night, leave for Tokyo on the last train or one early the next morning, and still be back in Nasu at 9:05 on the night of the 13th. That is not impossible, although any way you look at it, it is quite illogical, for after all, why go to so much trouble, when he could have just gone ahead and attacked Miss Tamayo also on the night of the 12th and then killed himself? Moreover, there’s also the issue of Mr. Kiyo’s hair.”

  Kindaichi smiled at Kiyo’s head. “I’m positive Mr. Kiyo’s hair was cut quite recently. So if we distribute his photograph to all the barbers in Tokyo and call their attention to it, we’d no doubt be able to find out where he got his haircut. Even if locating the barber turns out to be inadequate to establish his alibi, we should be able to trace his movements from there and find out where he was on the night of the 12th. Mr. Kiyo, how about it? Do you think we’d be able to establish an alibi for you?”

  Kiyo remained sitting with his head hung, his shoulders shaking violently and his forehead covered with oily sweat. It was obvious that Kindaichi’s words had found their mark.

  Chief Tachibana edged forward. “Are you saying that Kiyo came to Nasu on the night of the 13th to play the role of the murderer in order to protect someone?”

  “Exactly. The murder of the fake Kiyo must have come unexpectedly for Mr. Kiyo, too, and when he learned about it in the evening paper of the 13th, it was a devastating shock. Also, whereas before, in the cases of Také and Tomo, it had always been contrived to make it seem the culprit had come from or been outside the estate, no such measure had been taken this time, so he felt if he did not act, the real murderer would be found out. So, Mr. Kiyo made up his mind to sacrifice himself to protect the real murderer.”

  “Who, then—who’s the murderer?”

  Chief Tachibana’s voice sounded like he had something stuck in the back of his throat, but Kindaichi’s reply was quite nonchalant. “I think it should be quite obvious by now—Mrs. Matsuko, of course.”

  Silence filled the room. No one was particularly surprised. Everyone had realized the truth midway through Kindaichi’s explanation. So the looks that were turned in unison toward Matsuko the moment Kindaichi said her name were loaded with disgust and hatred but not with surprise. Even surrounded by these malicious eyes, however, Matsuko remained perfectly composed, and as she sat quietly working her tobacco, a faint, wry smile appeared on her lips.

  Kindaichi edged forward. “Mrs. Matsuko, you will tell us everything, won’t you? Yes, I’m certain you will, for everything you did was for Mr. Kiyo’s sake, wasn’t it? If Mr. Kiyo manages to play the role of the murderer successfully, then all your efforts will have been for nothing.”

  Matsuko, however, neither h
eard nor saw Kindaichi, but gazed intently at her son. “Kiyo, welcome home. If I had known that you would return safe and sound like this, I would never have acted so foolishly. Nor would I have needed to, since Tamayo would surely choose you.”

  Her words and tone were filled with a gentleness hitherto unimaginable from the usual Matsuko. Tamayo blushed, while Kiyo sat with downcast eyes, his shoulders trembling.

  “Kiyo, dear,” Matsuko continued, “when did you return to Japan? Oh, that’s right. Mr. Kindaichi just said that you landed in Hakata on November 12. Then why didn’t you wire me from there? Why didn’t you come home right away? Then I wouldn’t have had to kill those people.”

  “I… I…” Kiyo began speaking as if groaning in pain, but then, with a shudder, he abruptly raised his face in determination. “No, Mother, you know nothing about any of this. This is all my doing. I killed the three of them.”

  “Be quiet, Kiyo!” Matsuko’s words lashed out like a whip. She immediately softened her tone again, however, and continued, “Kiyo, dear, your attitude is torturing me. I know you’re doing this for me, but your actions are torturing me. If you understand what I’m saying, then tell me everything honestly. Just what was it that you did? Was it you who cut off Také’s head and carried Tomo’s corpse to Toyohata Village? I never wanted you to do anything like that.”

  Kindaichi began furiously scratching his head. “J-just as I thought. So, you weren’t accomplices in the usual sense of the word. Mr. Kiyo was secretly cleaning up after Mrs. Matsuko without even telling her.”

  Matsuko turned to Kindaichi for the first time. “Mr. Kindaichi, I’m not a woman who would try to enlist someone—especially my own son—to help me with something like this. Besides, if I’d known that Kiyo had returned unharmed, I wouldn’t have needed to kill anyone.”