The Silent Dead

by Tetsuya Honda

  It’s weird. I expected smoother sailing than this.

  The sum total of their knowledge could be expressed with a couple of bullet points. One: both Kanebara and Namekawa habitually went to an unknown destination on the evening of the second Sunday of the month. Two: both men had been throwing themselves into their work over the last few months.

  Even then, there were inconsistencies in the chronology. With Kanebara the change had occurred in spring, whereas with Namekawa it was the start of the year. Why the discrepancy?

  The neighborhood canvass produced no results. The victims’ personal effects yielded no clues. Interviews with the families, friends, and colleagues produced nothing to connect the two victims, either to each other or to the person allegedly responsible for disposing of them. Fatigue was starting to show in the faces of the task force members, and the initial energy of the investigation was almost dissipated.

  Thursday, August 21, was the tenth day since the discovery of Kanebara’s body on the hedge. An announcement was made that the task force would get a day off on the twenty-second.

  “The way things stand, we are still in the dark about many aspects of this case, including motive, method, and the original location where the crimes were committed. On the plus side, we now have a good idea of where we need to focus our efforts. Both victims had the same numerous small cuts on the torso, the same severed carotid artery, and the same deep incision in the abdomen. Both victims exhibited a similar pattern of behavior on the second Sunday of the month. We know where the blue plastic sheeting and the string used for bagging the bodies came from. There’s no shortage of clues that could lead us back to the perpetrator. If we are methodical, there’s no reason why we can’t crack this case.

  “You’ve all worked incredibly hard for the last ten days, and you’re worn out. I can’t tell you if we’re eighty percent there, or if the solution to this case is quite literally around the corner. None of us knows how this is going to play out. At times like this, it’s easy to start feeling edgy and lose focus. I want you all to take tomorrow off. Use the time to recharge, mentally and physically. I want to see you back here the day after tomorrow, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and totally committed to wrapping this thing up.”

  The more passionately Chief of Homicide Wada spoke, the more convinced Reiko became that what he really wanted to say was that they didn’t deserve any time off.

  His “take a day off the case” speeches are all the same anyway.

  In fact, though, Reiko was emotionally worn out. In addition to the slow progress of the case, the stress of dealing with Katsumata in the office and in the field was getting to her. Their relationship had gone from bad to worse after the Kasumi Shiratori episode. She badly needed a break from the man, even if it was only a short one.

  Why don’t I spend my day off at home?

  Unusually for her, Reiko didn’t go out drinking that night. Instead she went directly back to her parents’ house.

  * * *

  The journey home took just under an hour, about the same time as the commute from home to the Metropolitan Police Department headquarters in central Tokyo. The distance was quite doable, had she wanted to travel to Kameari police station from her parents’ place on a daily basis.

  When Reiko was working on a case, she always stayed in a hotel. It had nothing to do with distance or convenience; she simply didn’t want to go home. Any excuses she made about the investigation being in trouble were lies she told herself as much as her parents.

  It’s the walk from the station I can’t bear.

  The fastest way home was through a residential district with a park, but Reiko had avoided that route for years. Although it took longer, she always walked along the main road and took care to drop by the video rental place and the convenience store on the way. It had nothing to do with getting a movie, something for dinner, or a magazine. She wanted to make sure that she was picked up on the shops’ CCTV to prove that she was still alive and kicking at a specific time. She’d kept up the habit for years now, despite her doubts about its usefulness.

  The family had moved into their house in Minami Urawa in Reiko’s first year at junior high. She was thrilled to have her own room for the first time in her life and had fantasized about walking her dog in the nearby park. (Unfortunately, she’d never gotten around to getting a dog.)

  She got home in twenty minutes. The place was unusually quiet. She looked at her watch. It was still only twenty past ten. Her father was probably still slaving away at the office. Her mother, who was a night owl, never went to bed before he got home. Strange. It was way too early for the porch light to be off like that. What was going on?

  The best thing for me would be if Mom’s out.

  Reiko took the key from her handbag and opened the wooden front door with its coat of peeling paint.

  There was something funny about the interior of the house too. The living room to the left of the passage was in darkness, and a light was on in her sister’s room upstairs. Her sister had moved out a couple of years ago when she got married, and her room was no longer in use.

  As Reiko locked the door behind her, a voice came from the top of the stairs. “Reiko?”

  It was Tamaki, her baby sister.

  “I didn’t know you were visiting.”

  Reiko put her handbag, which was swollen with a change of clothes for tomorrow, down on the hallway step.

  Tamaki came down the stairs. She had her sleeping newborn baby daughter in her arms. Reiko’s first-ever niece, Haruka.

  “I’m not visiting.”

  Tamaki’s face was contorted with rage.

  “What’s with the death-ray stare?”

  Reiko went into the living room, switched on the lights, and began hunting for the remote control for the air conditioning. The house was unusually humid and stuffy. She was barely moving and the sweat was pouring off her.

  “Remote, remote, where are you hiding?” she murmured, pulling up the sofa cushions.

  There was nothing there.

  “What have you been doing?” said Tamaki, gently rocking her baby as she came into the living room.

  “Me? Working, of course.”

  What an idiotic question! Ignoring her sister, Reiko went on with her search.

  “Working where, exactly?”

  Reiko didn’t like her sister’s condescending tone.

  “What does it matter where? Since when do I have to account for everything I do to you? I’m tired, so give me some space, okay? And where’s Mom?”

  Tamaki’s eyes widened. “You’re not here because of my message?” she asked, with open annoyance.

  “What message?”

  Where the hell was that remote control?

  “I called your cell at lunchtime.”

  Lunchtime? Oh yeah, come to think of it, someone did call me.

  “Did you call me from the home phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, but when I’m working, I don’t answer calls from here.”

  The expression on Tamaki’s face was a welter of conflicting emotions: amazement, scorn, distress, and tearfulness.

  “So what Mom told me is true.”

  “Why should I pick up? She’ll just nag.”

  “And you’ve no idea where that nagging mother of yours is right now?”

  “No. That’s why I asked.”

  Tamaki’s face momentarily softened and she stopped rocking her baby.

  “She’s in the hospital.”

  “Huh?” said Reiko, not understanding.

  “Mom’s been hospitalized.”

  “Hospitalized?”

  “How many times do I have to say it? Mom’s in the hospital.”

  “When?”

  “This morning. She saw Dad off to work, when she suddenly got this pain in her chest. She called the ambulance herself. She also called you, though she knew you wouldn’t pick up.”

  Chest pains? Hospital? Reiko felt as though someone had emptied a bucket o
f ice-cold water on her head. A chill spread through her body.

  “How … how’s she doing?” There was a quaver in her voice that she could not control.

  “The heart attack could have killed her, if she hadn’t called the ambulance so fast. She’s stable and out of any immediate danger as long as she rests. They are doing some tests. She may have to have bypass surgery. It depends on the results.”

  There was a history of heart problems on her mother’s side of the family. Narrow coronary arteries. It was a genetic thing.

  “Why didn’t you pick up?”

  “I was working on a case,” she stammered. “I couldn’t.”

  “`Couldn’t … or wouldn’t?”

  Tamaki’s voice was loud and bitter. The baby opened its eyes in alarm. Tamaki ignored it.

  “You think ‘couldn’t pick up’ is any sort of excuse? I want to give you a piece of my mind. Dad called me this morning to give me the news. I called my mother-in-law and asked her to take care of the house. Then, lugging my baby and bags, I took God knows how many trains to get here from all the way across Tokyo. When I finally made it, I tried calling you while I was getting together the stuff Mom will need while she’s in hospital. I didn’t just call you once or twice, but hundreds of times. When I got to the hospital, I found Dad waiting out in the corridor. He was trembling, and his fists were clenched tight. He’d wanted to call you too, but he didn’t know your number. I didn’t know it either. I called you from here because your cell phone number is pre-programmed into the home phone.”

  The baby had started wailing. Tamaki broke off to comfort her. “It’s all right, little one,” she said softly. “There, there. Come on.” The baby kept on crying.

  Reiko bowed deeply to her sister. “I’m sorry, truly sorry.”

  Tamaki glared at her. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

  “I know … but still, sorry.”

  Reiko couldn’t remember the last time anyone in her family had given her such a roasting—or that she had said sorry. She had nothing to say in her defense. The idea that her mother might be ill had never even crossed her mind.

  “Your not answering the phone had nothing to do with being busy.” Tamaki spoke as if she could see right through her. Tamaki snorted contemptuously when Reiko stayed silent. “I heard that you blew off three dates with prospective husbands.”

  “It was two, not three.”

  “You may not count taking a call mid-date before rushing off to catch a murderer as blowing someone off, but I do.”

  Reiko was again at a loss for words.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a pained silence.

  “Whose fault do you think it is Mom collapsed today?”

  The back of Reiko’s neck went suddenly cold, ice cold.

  Was Tamaki going blame her for her mother’s condition? She certainly wasn’t guiltless. She had torpedoed those three marriage dates. That was a fact. But was that really what had triggered her mom’s heart attack?

  “It’s our auntie in Yokohama.”

  Reiko was relieved that Tamaki was pinning the blame on someone else.

  “Auntie was always criticizing Mom. You know why? She says that it’s because Mom was out that day that you can’t find yourself a husband, that what happened to you happened because Mom wasn’t here. It wasn’t like she only made the claim once or twice. Oh no. Every time you blew off another date, it gave her a pretext to lay into Mom. You had no idea, did you? Mom called me in tears I don’t know how many times. She actually believed that what happened to you was her fault. On top of that, her heart’s congenitally weak. With all the pressure, no wonder it gave out.”

  The baby started crying again, loudly. Tamaki just ignored her.

  “I respect you for what you’ve done. You had a terrible experience, but you managed to put your life back together. You’re my big sister, and I’ve always looked up to you. Everyone always praised you; you were tall, good-looking, good at sports, could get the gist of a textbook just by looking at it. Me, I was never like that. The only time people ever paid any attention to me was when they found out I was your sister. That was the only way I got any respect.”

  Reiko’s mind drifted back to when they were teenagers together.

  “As girls, we were very close. I looked up to you—but at the same time I resented you. With everybody comparing us all the time, I ended up convinced I was worthless. When that thing happened to you, a little part of me felt, ‘serves you damn right.’ I kind of hoped it would bring you down to my level.… But oh no, not you. You bounced right back. You got straight into college without needing an extra year to retake your exams. You got into the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, and then you made lieutenant before thirty. You’re amazing. Nobody else could have pulled it off.”

  Reiko’s jaw clenched as she struggled to keep her dark memories at bay.

  “Can you guess what the first thing to go through my mind after I had Haruka was? I thought, maybe now I can outshine my big sister for once. I was proud to give Mom and Dad their first grandchild. They traipsed all the way to the other side of Tokyo to see Haruka.” Tamaki choked up. “But I could see from their faces what they were thinking when they saw her. They wanted to be holding your baby, not mine. My granddaughter wasn’t good enough. They won’t be truly happy until their Reiko finds herself a husband and produces an authentic Himekawa grandchild.”

  Haruka’s little hand let go of Tamaki, and her arm dangled helplessly down.

  “Anyway, how come you didn’t notice that Mom was in a bad way? There’s no way she was right as rain right up until the attack. There must have been some signs. Why didn’t you spot them? That’s not the big sister I used to know. You used to be the first to pick up on it when someone was sick or anxious. Where’s that sister gone? When did you change? The big sister I hero-worshipped, hated, and adored wasn’t the sort of person to ignore her own mother’s phone calls and hang her out to dry.”

  Oddly enough, Tamaki was now the one crying. Reiko just stood there, looking at the little round belly of the baby as it went up and down. She must have cried herself to sleep. The tears sliding down Tamaki’s cheeks and onto her chin plopped down onto Haruka’s face. The baby’s mouth twitched, but her eyes stayed shut.

  * * *

  After a shower, Reiko had a light dinner prepared by Tamaki. She was all apologies as she chopped the vegetables at a painfully slow pace. “I’m sorry about what I said. I crossed the line.” Reiko wasn’t so sure she deserved an apology. In the end they ate their rice and vegetables in silence, then went up to their rooms.

  Reiko went straight to bed. She wasn’t in the mood to sleep, but she didn’t feel like doing anything else. She was shattered, exhausted. She lay down, switched off the bedside light, and closed her eyes.

  So much of what Tamaki said came as a shock to her. They were sisters. They had known each other forever. Reiko had known that Tamaki was jealous of her. She had noticed how much more lively Tamaki became after the incident. She had sensed it was about something more than showing sympathy to her traumatized sister, but she had never expected Tamaki to be so forthright about how she really felt. It was her own selfishness that had driven her sister to it, though. She had no right to fight back. None whatsoever.

  The biggest shock was the discovery that her mother was only pressuring her to find a husband because she blamed herself for what had happened that day. It was when the dates didn’t pan out and her sister—their auntie—started giving her a hard time that she’d been carted off to the hospital.

  Reiko had to admit that she wasn’t the only person to have suffered. Still, she’d suffered more than anyone else. No one could deny that. She had worked hard to find a way of living life that made sense to her, and she wanted the rest of her family to respect the choices she had made. So maybe what made her happy was different than other women. She had joined the police, become a detective, made lieutenant in Homicide. And because of that, she felt fully and
completely alive. Was it selfish of her to want them to try to understand that? Did she need to painstakingly spell out all the whys and wherefores before they would accept the life choices she had made?

  * * *

  On the day it happened, her mom had been out. That much was true. She’d gone to Shinjuku for a school reunion. Knowing that her mom would be back late, Reiko decided to go for a night out in central Tokyo with some friends. That was the root cause of it all. Her mom not being at home had nothing to do with it. Responsibility lay with the seventeen-year-old Reiko and her insouciance in deciding that getting home late was okay, since both her father and mother were out for the evening.

  That night, Reiko made it back to Minami Urawa station at 8:30 p.m. Although her parents were not there to scold her, she still felt she should hurry. She decided to cut across the park. She had no idea it could be dangerous.

  As she was crossing the park, she caught sight of a male figure. Had he been lurking behind a tree? They would bump into one another if she stayed on the path. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut across the grass—but before she could do so, the man had flung himself at her and was crushing her in his arms.

  “Don’t fight me.”

  A deep, rasping masculine whisper.

  Reiko was dragged into a patch of darkness behind the public toilets. There were shrubs on one side and, behind a fence, a water tank on the other. She was shoved to the ground. She felt the cold damp hard earth against her back. The acrid stink of the toilets. The bestial panting of the man. The still air. The suffocating humidity. The heavy darkness of a summer night.

  The man was far stronger. Even without the muttered threats and the knife he pressed against her throat, she couldn’t have gotten away.