“This isn’t one of your novels, Rintar. I wouldn’t do something so roundabout. Tell me about this rumor.”
“You’re a harsh critic, Father. All right, then. The story I’ve heard goes like this:
“Ms A, a college student, went to a party at B’s apartment with other members of her club. B was a year ahead of her at college. They had a good time drinking. A little after midnight, the party ended, and A left the apartment along with a friend.
After walking for a while, A realized that she had left her handbag at the apartment and decided to part with her friend and go back to retrieve her bag. When she returned to the apartment, the lights were already out and there was no response when she rang the doorbell. It appeared that B had already gone to bed. Feeling dejected, A tried turning the doorknob and it opened. B must have forgotten to lock the door.
The apartment’s one room was pitch dark. But she remembered where she had left her bag and felt bad about waking the soundly sleeping B. Without turning on the light, A whispered, ‘I came to pick up what I forgot,’ as she groped for her bag. She left the apartment as she had entered it.”
“Hmm, that’s very interesting,” Inspector Norizuki mused. The expression on his face was deadly serious, in contrast to the seeming nonchalance of the statement. Unaware that the lengthening ashes of his cigarette were about to drop onto the table, he asked, “And then?”
“The next day, A, concerned that she hadn’t seen B on campus, went to his apartment. When she arrived, a police car was parked in front of the building, and the street was filled with policemen and onlookers.
‘Did something happen here?’ A asked one of the neighbors clustering around.
‘There was a murder here last night. Mr B in Apartment X was killed.’
It seemed that after A and the others had departed, someone had entered through the unlocked door and stabbed B to death as he was sleeping.
I should have woken him and told him to lock his door when I came back to retrieve my bag, A thought. She was filled with remorse, but no matter how much she regretted her actions, B would not return to life. Nothing could be done for him now.
Starting the next day, the club members who had been drinking with B just before he was killed were called in by the police to give their statements. Feeling somewhat responsible for B’s death, A went voluntarily to give her statement to the detective in charge, offering as much detail as she could about the events of the night of the crime. When she’d finished, the detective took out a photograph. Prefacing his question by saying the picture might shock her, he asked, ‘This message was left at the scene of the crime. Does it mean anything to you?’
The photograph was of the wall in B’s apartment. Smeared on the wall in blood were these words:
‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’
Upon seeing the photograph, A turned pale and fainted. When A had returned to B’s room that night, he had already been killed! If she had turned on the light to try to wake B, she would have come face to face with the killer and A would most certainly also have been killed.”
Inspector Norizuki folded his arms across his chest and groaned. “You said it was a popular urban legend. Does that mean quite a large percentage of young people have heard it?”
“I suppose so. Nowadays there are many sites on the Internet dealing with urban legends. Leaving aside whether one believes it to be a true story, it’s likely most young people have come across it at least once. There was even a movie last year that dealt with a similar tale.”
The inspector opened his eyes wide in wonder. “Even a movie?”
“An American film that was given the title Rules in Japan. The original title was Urban Legend. It was a horror-suspense B-movie on the subject of urban legends – just as it says. It should be out now on video. The plot sounded interesting – a series of murders made to look like popular urban legends in America, like ‘The Backseat Murderer,’ ‘The Boyfriend’s Death,’ or ‘The Babysitter and the Man Upstairs’ – but it wasn’t really very good as a mystery movie. A different version of the story we’ve been talking about was used.”
“By ‘a different version’ you mean . . .?”
“It’s a type known as ‘The Roommate’s Death.’ And it might be closer to the original. The version we were just talking about didn’t arise spontaneously. The core of the story must have been translated from an earlier American version. After all, the recent boom in urban legends started in America. What kicked it off was the book The Vanishing Hitchhiker, written by the folklore scholar Jan Harold Brunvand, which came out in 1981.”
The inspector snorted impatiently and said, “Quit showing off your knowledge. What was the version of the story in the movie Rules?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Rintar apologized. “Details of ‘The Roommate’s Death’ can vary, but in the movie, it goes like this. It’s set in a dormitory of a college far from any major city. The heroine’s roommate is a dissolute female college student. One night, she enters the room to hear moans from her roommate’s bed. Assuming, mistakenly, that her roommate is in the midst of a tryst with her boyfriend, the heroine doesn’t turn on the light, but goes directly to her own bed and falls asleep listening to music through her earphones. Waking up the next morning, she discovers her roommate’s butchered body in the bed next to hers. On the wall, written in the blood of the victim, are the words, ‘AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN’T TURN ON THE LIGHT?’ ”
“So again, by not turning on the light, she saved her own life. I see. It’s a valuable piece of information. The fact that the film was shown in Japan means that it is possible the murderer may have seen it. If it’s out on video, then we should check the video rental shops. If we’re lucky, this could help us narrow down the suspects.” Inspector Norizuki took out his pocket notebook and jotted down the movie title. He seemed to be serious.
Wondering if he could really be in earnest, Rintar said, “This isn’t just an after-dinner entertainment? Don’t tell me that such a strange case has actually occurred?”
“Yes, it has, actually. I’ve been saying so from the beginning, haven’t I? But it’s not the movie version. This case is just like the first story of Ms A that you related. We’ve kept the message written in blood from the media, so it hasn’t become a news item.”
Rintar stared wide-eyed at his father. “A copycat murder of an urban legend?”
Frowning deeply, the inspector replied, “It seems like it, from what you have to say.”
“Then, please,” Rintar said eagerly, “give me the details and circumstances of the case.”
2.
“The victim, or student B,” Inspector Norizuki explained, “is Matsunaga Toshiki, a second-year student in the Sciences Department at M—— University. He lived in Room 206 of the Belle Maison Matsubara apartment building at Matsubara 1-chme. This is a building for students a five-minute walk from Meidaimae Station on the Kei Line. The name of the building is fancy, but the one-room units are just one rank above low-end apartments. Apparently the soundproofing is thorough, but as the front entrance has no auto-lock system, anyone can freely enter the building, even those who do not live there. Matsunaga’s body was found lying on the floor of his room on Tuesday afternoon.”
“Who found it?”
“A deliveryman from Yamaneko Delivery Company. It just happened that on Monday, the day before, a package was sent from Matsunaga’s family in Shizuoka. The deliveryman rang the door-bell for Room 206, but there was no response. Noticing that the door was unlocked, the deliveryman suspected that Matsunaga was actually there but pretending not to be. It does seem a waste of gasoline to go repeatedly to the same address to try to deliver a package to a student who might be sleeping in until the sun is high in the sky,” the Inspector said, seeming to sympathize with the deliveryman. “Just to make sure, he opened the door and peeked into the room to discover the victim lying in a pool of blood on the floor of the eight-tatami-mat-sized room. In a panic, the
deliveryman tried to raise him up, but it was obvious that hours had passed since the victim had died. It was one forty-five pm when he called the police emergency number, 110, from the scene on his cell phone.”
“It is fortunate that he gave priority to contacting the police over fulfilling his delivery quotas. What was the method used in the crime and the cause of death?”
“Matsunaga died almost immediately from loss of blood, having been stabbed in the chest with a sharply pointed object like a pick. But it wasn’t that he was suddenly attacked while he was asleep in his bed. There were signs that he struggled with the assailant. So we should take it that the victim woke up and resisted.”
“You say ‘a sharply pointed object like a pick’. Could it have been something like a screwdriver?”
“No, we discovered an ice pick left in the sink with blood on the tip that matched the victim’s blood. We found out that this ice pick wasn’t brought in from elsewhere. It was one that Matsunaga, who liked to drink, frequently used. As the handle had been washed clean with water, we couldn’t lift any fingerprints that might have been those of the murderer. According to the Identification Section, the murderer must have washed off most of the victim’s blood at the same time.”
“I see. The fact that there were signs of struggle and that the ice pick from the crime scene was used seems to indicate that it was an unpremeditated crime. What about the estimated time of death?”
“According to the medical examiner and the results of the autopsy, Matsunaga was killed between eleven p.m. on Monday and one a.m. on Tuesday. But we ascertained from the statements taken from those associated with the victim that he was already dead by about eleven-thirty pm.”
“Whom do you mean by ‘those associated with the victim’?” Rintar cut in.
Inspector Norizuki did not respond right away; he appeared to want to tell his story at his own pace. Only after he had reached for a cigarette and taken his time lighting it did he continue.
“Those who were in the same club at the university, of course. I told you it was exactly like the story of Ms A, didn’t I? Matsunaga Toshiki was a member of the university Bowling Club. He often invited other members of the club to drinking parties in his apartment. The solid soundproofing had the advantage that even if they became drunk and boisterous, his neighbors would not complain.”
“Hmm, and that’s why Matsunaga had his own ice pick?”
“Right. Monday, when the crime occurred, was the last day of first-term exams at the university. The Bowling Club members had gathered early in the evening at a pub in Shimokitazawa to celebrate the end of their exams. When that initial party at the pub broke up, the seven members of the club who were an especially close group repaired, as usual, to Belle Maison Matsubara to continue to drink. They said they bought some drinks and snacks at a convenience store on the way and began the second party just after nine p.m.”
“Who was at the second party?”
“Four male students, including Matsunaga, and three female students. Here’s the list of them.”
So saying, the inspector opened to a page in his notebook. The list noted each member’s name, major department, university year, gender, and the train station closest to his or her residence.
“There are two first-year female students, aren’t there? Which one played the part of Ms A?” Rintar asked as he attempted to commit the names on the list to memory.
“It was Hirotani Aki of the Literature Department. But let me tell you the facts in order. At first, the drinking party on Monday night was friendly and lively. But then it veers from your story. Partway through, there was quite a disagreement. Matsunaga and Miyoshi Nobuhiko, also a second-year student, started arguing over some small matter. Disregarding the efforts of the others to calm them down, they continued to revile each other.”
“I thought you said it was a close-knit group? Did they dislike each other?”
“Apparently not normally. And though they insulted each other, they didn’t actually come to blows. Matsunaga, who was the calmer of them, seemed to enjoy dishing out a string of insults that angered Miyoshi. Since he was drinking, Miyoshi must have overreacted to comments he would have let slide if he had been sober. Isn’t that what student gathering have always been like? Nevertheless, Miyoshi apparently did have a reason to dislike Matsunaga.”
“Would that be related to this?” Rintar extended his little finger, indicating girlfriend problems.
The inspector made a sour face and nodded. “Exactly. What they call a love triangle.”
“Did it involve one of the three women there?”
“No, that’s not it. It all happened in the past. There was a girl named Sasaki Megumi who had been a member of the Bowling Club. She was in the same year as Matsunaga and Miyoshi and was going out with Miyoshi. Then Matsunaga seduced her. With the trouble that created among the threesome, it became uncomfortable for her and she stopped attending club gatherings. She dropped out of the club, and ultimately her relationship with Miyoshi fell apart.”
“I see. It’s the kind of story you hear quite often.”
“Well, yes. There’s a bit more to it, but for now let’s go on with the case. The two young men started quarreling shortly after ten p.m. At ten-thirty, Miyoshi said he had drunk too much and didn’t feel well, so he would go home. I don’t think he was really drunk. He probably felt uncomfortable. No one attempted to keep him there, so he left alone.”
“The party didn’t break up when Miyoshi left?”
“Not right away,” the inspector replied. “But a pall was cast over the party, and those who remained started squirming. For about half an hour they continued with some desultory conversation until they decided to break it up. Matsunaga, the host, had stayed up all night the night before to study for his exam that day, so apparently he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open by then.”
“Then perhaps his taunting Miyoshi wasn’t out of spite but partly to keep himself awake.”
“I wonder about that. In any event, shortly after eleven pm, after cleaning up the cigarette butts, empty bottles, and trash, the five remaining club members (other than Matsunaga) left Belle Maison Matsubara. They divided into two groups. Nozaki Tetsu and Nagashima Yurika, along with End Fumiaki, headed for Meidaimae Station. Hirotani Aki and Sekiguchi Reiko, the two first-year coeds, went in the opposite direction to Umegaoka Station on the Odaky Odawara Line.”
“Just a moment, Father.” Rintar broke in. “. . . I can understand why Nagashima Yurika, who lives in Kichijji, and End Fumiaki, who was going to Tsutsujigaoka, would go to Meidaimae on the Kei Line. But Nozaki Tetsu lives in Machida, doesn’t he? Why didn’t he go to Umegaoka Station on the OdakyLine with the two first-year coeds?”
“That’s because instead of going home to Machida, Nozaki went to spend the night at Yurika’s apartment in Kichijji,” Inspector Norizuki said. “I should have explained earlier that Nozaki and Yurika were an accepted couple within the club. But Yurika asked me to keep this secret from her parents.”
“So that’s the deal. Sorry I keep interrupting your story. The point isn’t that group but the two who headed for Umegaoka, isn’t it?”
“Right you are.” The Inspector cleared his throat and wet his lips. It was his signal that the story was entering its key stage. “The distance from Belle Maison Matsubara to Umegaoka Station takes about fifteen minutes on foot. When the two women reached the station, Hirotani Aki noticed that she didn’t have her cell phone with her. She had received a call during the party, had taken her phone out of her bag then, and had forgotten it in Matsunaga’s room. If it had been a different item that she had left, it would not have mattered much. But she couldn’t go home without her cell phone, which to her is more valuable than her life. Flustered, Aki decided to go back to Belle Maison Matsubara.”
“Did she go alone?”
“That’s right. Sekiguchi Reiko did not go with her.”
“That’s strange. Even though the trains were stil
l running, it was late for a young woman of nineteen to be walking the dark streets alone. That’s not safe. Why didn’t Sekiguchi Reiko go along with her? Perhaps the two of them weren’t such good friends after all?”
Inspector Norizuki shook his head. “No, Aki and Reiko were the best of friends even within the group. This is unmistakable. Your doubts are justified, but there was a valid reason why Aki returned to Matsunaga’s apartment alone. Aki borrowed Reiko’s bicycle.”
“Her bicycle?”
“Yup. Reiko lives in an apartment at Umegaoka 2-ch me, south of Umegaoka Station. She rides her bicycle to the station, where she takes the train. That’s why Reiko’s bicycle was at the station’s bicycle parking lot that day. A distance that takes fifteen minutes to walk one way can be covered in a ten-minute round trip by bicycle. It’s practical, isn’t it? Reiko handed her bicycle key to Aki and went to the late-night donut shop facing the station to wait for her.”
“I see. This is more involved than the urban legend. What happened then?”
“Aki pedaled to Belle Maison Matsubara on the borrowed bicycle. The party had let out after eleven p.m., and they had taken fifteen minutes to walk to Umegaoka Station. Let’s say it took a few minutes to arrange to borrow the bicycle and five minutes to bike to Matsunaga’s apartment. Aki would have reached the door of Room 206 around eleven-thirty pm. The highlight of the case starts here. Aki rang the doorbell of Matsunaga’s apartment, but there was no answer. The light was off as well. As I said before, Matsunaga had stayed up all night the night before the drinking party and seemed quite sleepy by the time everyone left. It would not have been strange if he had turned off the light and crawled into bed as soon as he was alone. Wondering what she should do as she stood outside the door, Aki tried turning the doorknob. Matsunaga must have forgotten to lock his door before he went to bed. The door opened. The room was pitch dark . . .”
The Mammoth Book Best International Crime Page 38