Deep Red

by Hisashi Nozawa

  Miho had spoken to her from the real world. If she were carrying his child again, her hatred would be passed down to the kid. For hating Akira, the child would convict Miho of being “a father killer.” During her “four hours,” Kanako had believed it was her role to prevent a future where Miho and her child hated each other and tried to kill each other.

  It didn’t matter whether Miho was pregnant again or not. Kanako wasn’t running now for some child she wasn’t even sure would ever be born.

  Kanako had hated Norio Tsuzuki, and his daughter Miho.

  Miho had lived these past eight years hating Kanako’s parents, who had swindled her father, and the law that was trying to send him to the gallows.

  Kanako and Miho had met, and their hatred had mixed, resulting in an unexpected chemical reaction. It had morphed into a will to murder Akira Nakagaki.

  What Kanako had to stop were the droplets of darkness that had started to drip down as a result of their mixed hatred—the endless chain of droplets filled with hatred and murderous intent.

  She made it out to the avenue. If she crossed the overpass, Ice Storm would be right there. Kanako suddenly became afraid and wondered if she was making a dangerous gamble.

  If she went to Daikanyama but wasn’t able to stop Miho, Akira Nakagaki’s body would be lying in the parking lot. If she rushed back to Gotanda afterwards and Goro had already called the bar, it would be proof that no one had been there at the time of the crime, and Miho would have no alibi. That was the worst-case scenario.

  Kanako reconsidered and thought how crossing the overpass and going to the bar may be her best option.

  She crushed the cowardly voice. She raised her hand to hail an empty taxi. She decided to throw herself into the situation despite the poor odds.

  “To Daikanyama,” she boldly announced their destination to the driver as she got in, then immediately rephrased herself. “I meant, in front of Ebisu station will do.”

  She didn’t want to leave any obvious traces like a suspicious woman hurrying close to the murder site in a cab. She would get off at Ebisu and sprint the several minutes’ walk.

  It was 1:33. They were gradually approaching the time their plan would be executed and when they needed to craft an alibi. All she could do was pray that the call from Goro would be delayed.

  The streets to Ebisu were empty. They flew through the city. They didn’t get caught at any of the stoplights. Kanako began to think that luck hadn’t abandoned her yet. At 1:44, they passed under the girder bridge.

  “Here is good.”

  Kanako handed over two thousand-yen bills and, not taking any change, leapt out of the taxi. She crossed during a red light and heard angry honking but didn’t turn back. All she had to do was run the street to Daikanyama.

  She almost crashed into a herd of businessmen coming out of a bar and rushed through them. “Hey, young lady, where you off to in a hurry?” she heard from behind her. What if someone testified that a panicked young woman had rushed towards the site of the crime at around the time it had occurred? Kanako decided she didn’t care.

  She called Miho’s cell phone again as she ran. It was off, just as before. Perhaps Miho had already placed her call and summoned Akira Nakagaki, who’d been waiting in his office, down to the apartment parking lot.

  Miho lurking in the trash-deposit area. Miho gripping the hammer and creeping towards the brawny man from behind. The horrible image flickered on and off to the rhythm of Kanako’s ragged breathing.

  She passed through the West Ebisu neighborhood and entered Daikanyama. Only one block left. Kanako continued to send fuel to her heart though it was about to explode. The five-story apartment building was coming into view. The cross appeared beyond that. The cross was illuminated and glowed faintly.

  As she approached the apartment building she looked beyond the street, and behind her too, to check for passersby. She entered the pathway that connected the front of the apartment building to the parking lot.

  The hinter side of the apartment building, out of reach of the streetlamps, was illuminated only by a single fluorescent light and appeared to be in a haze. It was as if the air was saturated with malice aforethought. Kanako thought she could smell blood.

  There were more bicycles now than when she’d checked out the site. Most of the residents had returned. The space surrounded by the wheels looked like some circular arena.

  There was a single man collapsed at its center.

  His body was turned the other way as he lay on his side on grimy concrete, and his hands hung down at unnatural angles.

  It was Akira Nakagaki. Kanako had been too late. She was battered by despair at her wasted effort. Her head throbbed from breathing too hard. Her body felt empty. Her mind went completely blank.

  She finally sensed another presence nearby. She twisted her neck and peered around. A woman leaned against a bicycle, perhaps the reason why all of the others around it had fallen over. She was crouched in an unstable position. Miho, and barefoot. She had taken off her shoes somewhere.

  Through the faint gloom, Kanako could see the excessive colors decorating her face. Miho had said that she would put on thick makeup the night of the crime as a disguise. She looked like an actress with stage makeup who had finished her part and collapsed off-stage. A hammer hung limply from her right hand.

  There was no sea of blood here, nor the smell of exhaust from a chainsaw, but Kanako felt as though she had just witnessed the murder site from eight years ago. The fallen victim, and the crouched assailant’s profile. It was more than enough for Kanako to imagine the stage of the tragedy eight years ago, and all the hairs on her body stood on end.

  Both Kanako and Miho’s reactions were dulled. Their eyes were finally drawn to each other.

  “Oh…Kako.”

  Her voice was a whisper, but she seemed hysterical. Kanako worked past her despair, approached Miho, and sat in front of her. They peered into each other’s faces.

  “Did you do it?” Those were the only words that came to Kanako’s mind.

  “Why are you here?” Miho asked, only half-listening.

  “Is he dead?”

  Kanako turned around. Akira Nakagaki was in the same position as before.

  “I hit him.”

  “I know.”

  “I hit him, and he fell like a rock.”

  “So he died.”

  “I tried to check and touched the vein in his throat and put my ear close to his nose…but I couldn’t really tell.”

  She looked as though she had encountered a difficult problem she couldn’t solve by herself and didn’t know what to do.

  “It wasn’t true…”

  “When you checked, how was he?”

  Kanako became irritated at Miho’s listless replies and shook her shoulder. Miho’s head lolled back and forth.

  “A human’s vital point? Liar. I mean, I could hear the sucking sound. He was breathing. He’s just asleep.”

  Kanako stepped back from Miho. Hope battling with fear, Kanako approached the fallen Akira Nakagaki. She peered into his shaded face and strained her ears for his breathing.

  She could hear it. It sounded like he was breathing peacefully in his sleep, but when she looked, his expression was hardly restful. Pain had carved furrows between his brows.

  Kanako examined the back of his head. It was slick with blood. Miho had definitely put her weight into the swing. Beneath the skin dyed crimson, she could see something white. She wondered if it was his skull.

  She didn’t know if it was a vital spot for humans. Miho had heard from a martial arts nerd that a vital spot was tucked directly behind the head. From the wound it looked as though she had missed and struck a little to the right.

  “I did aim for where he told me…”

  Miho crawled closer on all fours. For a while, the two were side by side as they stared down at where Akira Nakagaki’s body was stretched.

  “Should I hit him again?”

  When Miho said this, K
anako wrenched the hammer from her hand.

  “Did he see your face? When you hit him.”

  “I don’t know…I don’t think so. I crept in from behind and hit him once, and he just sorta fell without turning around.”

  “So you weren’t seen.”

  “I wasn’t seen.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Kanako made Miho stand up. Miho’s body was heavy, as though she’d expended all her strength on that one blow.

  “Come on, stand up.”

  “I can’t, my strength’s gone…”

  Just her lower body seemed to have turned into some invertebrate creature. Kanako forcefully dragged her up and started towards the avenue. Miho’s upper body felt thick. She’d worn an extra layer in preparation for a spray of blood.

  “Wait, my shoes…”

  Miho pointed to the trash-disposal area where she’d taken off her sneakers. Kanako went to grab them. She’d probably taken them off so Akira Nakagaki wouldn’t hear her when she approached.

  Miho held onto Kanako and tapped her toes on the ground to put on the sneakers with tight shoelaces. Kanako reflexively plugged her ears against the sound.

  “…But is it okay to leave him like that?” asked Miho.

  “It’s okay.”

  Kanako supported Miho, who’d finished putting on her sneakers, and headed back the way she’d come. Miho’s gait was wobbly, unsteady. Their irregular footsteps echoed over the asphalt. Kanako glanced at her watch and saw that it was 1:51. If she hurried back to Ice Storm, would she make it in time to catch Goro’s call?

  “Hey, why did you come? Isn’t that bad?”

  Miho sounded happy that Kanako had, but worried about the obvious deviation from their plan.

  “Be quiet.”

  Kanako had just dialed 911 on her cell phone.

  “…Um, I was just passing by, but I peeked when I heard a scream and there’s a man collapsed behind an apartment building.”

  Kanako withheld her number. She tried to change her voice as much as possible, too. She had once heard that all tips that came into the emergency call center were recorded.

  “Um, the place is in Daikanyama, right by the church.”

  The address was listed in front of the apartment building. Kanako saw it and told them.

  “Oh, me? Just passing by. Anyway, please send an ambulance right away.”

  As soon as she ended the call, they departed from the location as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. Kanako prayed that no one would see her lending her shoulder to Miho like this. Their irregular footsteps rang discordantly along the dark road. Luckily it was late at night and there was no one else around.

  “I’m going to the bar now like we planned.”

  “But is there any need for you to be on phone duty at this point?”

  It was as Miho said. If they were going there now, it was better if Miho took the call herself. But no, she couldn’t, Kanako realized after giving it some thought.

  “Even if you take the call at the bar, Miho, it wouldn’t mean that you were there at the time of the crime, and your alibi won’t hold.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  “Regardless of whether it’s a fictional or imaginary girl, we have to prove to Goro that you were with a third party, a customer, the whole time.”

  “If you don’t make it to the call…”

  Goro might become suspicious if no one was at the bar and cut his band practice short to come back and check. Kanako fretted that she wouldn’t be able to fool him all by herself.

  “It’s all right. I’ll go.” She was just putting on a brave face. “If Goro shows up, that’s even more reason to keep him from meeting you. If he sees the state you’re in now, he’ll know something happened.”

  “I wonder what’s wrong with me…It’s like all it took was that one swing and I used up all my strength. I bet my father felt like this too.”

  The image of Norio Tsuzuki sinking down to his knees in a sea of blood brushed Kanako’s mind. He’d written in his statement that his exhaustion upon stealing the lives of four people made him feel in hindsight that robbing others of their lives amounted to chipping away at his own. Looking at Miho now, Kanako was able to sense the dread and lethargy of a murderer as though she’d experienced it herself.

  “And um, I…”

  Miho struggled to remember what she was supposed to do now.

  “Miho, you do as we planned and go back to your room. Once they figure out his address from his belongings, the police will contact you.”

  “Got it.”

  They came out onto an avenue. Kanako made Miho sit on the guardrail.

  “Let’s take separate taxis. I’ll go ahead.”

  “Hey, Kako.”

  “Yeah?” Kanako, staring along the road, was busy looking for empty taxis.

  “What was that? You suddenly sank to the floor and fell asleep with your eyes half-open.”

  “I get like that sometimes. It’s a mental, well, something like a kind of fit.”

  “You should really go get it checked out at a hospital.”

  “I know it looks bad, but I’ve been getting better.”

  “Sometimes you nodded like you could hear my voice.”

  “It’s because I could.”

  “Really?”

  “Last night, you ended up doing it with him, right?”

  “You really did hear me.”

  Miho dropped her eyes in embarrassment, but they also retained the final flickers of madness. “After he made love to me, he fell asleep right away. I parted his hair with my finger and inspected the back of his head and told myself again and again that it was where I’d hit him today. I’d open a hole right there, and then he’d die…”

  She had apparently passed the night imagining that gruesome picture. Kanako had been far better off even if all she had managed was to drift in and out of a light sleep.

  Miho glanced at her own right hand. “I hit him with this hand. It felt like the hammer had bounced off a soft rock.”

  The weapon was latched to Kanako’s waist like a carpenter’s tool. She panicked and rolled up her trainers to hide it. “I’ll get rid of it.”

  Miho was spreading and clenching her right hand. “My hand felt numb from the shock. He didn’t even scream and just fell over like a toy with its power turned off. I thought, ‘Hey, humans are pretty weak.’ But I found out that he was still breathing, and I thought, ‘Wow, humans are pretty tough’…” She let out a big sigh. “And I couldn’t believe I’d planned to bludgeon him to death…”

  “I bet all criminals are like that. They realize the enormity of their deed only after the fact.”

  “I wonder if the police will know that I’m the one who hit and tried to kill him.”

  “You’re going to become a scoundrel, right? What’s up with you, getting all frightened by just a failed attempt?”

  Kanako was building up her nerves. A taxi with an empty mark approached. She waved her hand frantically.

  “Let’s not meet for a while after this.”

  That was part of the plan too. Miho nodded. The taxi stopped, and Kanako quickly crammed herself through the open door. Miho remained sitting against the guardrail.

  “Is the other person good?” the driver asked.

  “We’re not together. Please go.”

  After stating the destination, she turned back to look out the rear window. Miho stared after her without waving.

  “It’ll be a bit far if you come out on Yamate Street, so please get as close to the tracks as possible.”

  She heard a siren coming from ahead on the opposite lane. The red light of an ambulance approached. It might have been rushing to Daikanyama. It passed right beside them.

  Kanako prayed that they would be able to save Akira Nakagaki’s life. She prayed with all her might.

  The neon lights were turned off.

  However, she noticed that they had increased to three colors. She wondered if they would increase e
very night until they formed a seven-hued rainbow.

  She had the taxi park three hundred yards ahead on the road, and on her way sprinting to the bar, she dropped the weapon, the hammer, into the Meguro River. She arrived in front of the establishment at exactly two.

  Kanako cautiously made her way down the stairs decorated to resemble an icy cavern.

  When she opened the door, the bell on the door rattled. The vast, empty domain held no sign of people, just a few slivers of light coming from the ceiling above the counter.

  She wondered if Goro had already called.

  Kanako sat at the counter close to the phone and stared at the cordless receiver on its holder.

  Was Goro coming back, suspicious that no one had been at the bar? If he did, what excuses would she give?

  “Miho wasn’t feeling very well and went home. She asked me to close up…”

  That was no good, Kanako shook her head. If she met Goro here, she would no longer be an imaginary girl. She’d end up having to explain Miho’s actions through the night.

  Miho would hear of Kanako’s background, and the fact that the survivor from the case eight years ago had made contact with the killer’s daughter would come to light.

  Perhaps the phone had already rung, no one had picked up, and Goro had interpreted it to mean that Miho had gone home without waiting for him to call and simply continued his band practice. Then Kanako wouldn’t get a chance to provide Miho’s alibi.

  She fell face forward against the counter. It was a dead end. She imagined the black shoes of the police ringing loudly against the ground as they drew closer. She felt a chill. Her teeth chattered.

  The phone rang. Kanako leapt up. She bumped her knee against the back of the counter. Groping futilely in the air as the shrill electronic sound rang out, her right hand finally managed to clutch the receiver in a death grip.

  “…Hello?”

  “Oh, it’s Goro. Sorry for calling so late!”

  His voice sounded almost angelic.

  “I’m, um, someone who was asked to watch over the place…”

  “Where’s Miho?”

  “She went to buy cigarettes for me. I’m just a customer.”