The Informer

by Akimitsu Takagi

  “We haven’t completely forgotten about Eiko Ogino,” he said slowly. “So far Segawa has assiduously denied his guilt, but we don’t think he’ll last much longer. He should make a clean breast of it within a day or two. And depending on the details of his confession, there’s a definite possibility that criminal re­sponsibility will extend to Eiko Ogino. But she does have a perfect alibi in relation to both murders, and at present she’s suffering from mental and physical fatigue. This is quite evi­dent to everybody, so we feel that for the time being we’re in no position to take firm action against her. Have you been aware of these circumstances?”

  “Yes, I’m acquainted with all aspects of the case, in both outline and detail, and I’m in complete agreement with your attitude.”

  “Then I’d like to hear the basis of your decision to proceed against her on a private complaint.”

  “I’m quite happy to give you the full facts in my possession. Let me begin by explaining my relationship with the late Mr. Ogino. It was about a year ago that I first met him in connec­tion with the raising of a loan. We had dinner together two or three times and found each other’s company quite agreeable. Subsequently he told me over a drink that when he becomes president, he’d like me to become legal adviser to the company.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Now, it was at the beginning of this month that he rang me and asked me to meet him somewhere urgently. He told me he’d been recently visited by Segawa, a former university class­mate who hadn’t been near him for a long time, and was asked by him to appoint him as an agent for the company’s products. He said he felt there was something strange about Segawa. He asked me if I’d engage a private detective on his behalf to check on Segawa’s activities. I thought any connection with the Shichiyo Chemical Company would be to my advantage, so I eagerly complied with his request.”

  “I see. But wouldn’t it have been much quicker and easier for Mr. Ogino himself to engage a private detective, instead of going through you? Didn’t you think it strange he should ask you to do this for him after such a short acquaintance?”

  “Yes, I thought of that myself. First I assumed he’d made the request to test my ability. But then it occurred to me that while the company might well have a detective agency in its regular service, there could be some personal relationship involved here, and for this reason he didn’t want to go through normal channels. This was confirmed during the subsequent investiga­tion. I found a situation existed which would’ve quite prevented Mr. Ogino from consulting the company’s legal adviser.”

  “Hmm.”

  “There was a clandestine relationship between Segawa and Mrs. Ogino. So far as we could ascertain, twice they’d gone to the Seizanso Inn at Sendagaya in the middle of the day and spent some time there together. Of course, we couldn’t have burst into their room to catch them in the middle of intercourse, but I think their presence there was sufficient proof of a love affair between them.”

  It wasn’t the first time Kirishima had heard this story. But now that it had been told by someone who had no connection with the police, any doubt he might’ve entertained up to now about the accuracy of Inspector Ishida’s information had been dispelled for good. He couldn’t help wondering how a man who had ambitions to become a crack industrial spy could’ve been so careless in his love affairs.

  Yumida’s glowing eyes never for a moment shifted from Kirishima’s face as he went on. “On the second occasion, after leaving the inn, they went into the Café Takuto, apparently to have a rest. It’d be probably correct to say they were intoxicated with a lingering feeling after their love-making. They certainly wouldn’t have expected our investigator to be sitting at the next table, listening to their conversation. On top of this, the late Mr. Ogino’s sister, Mrs. Nishiwaki, and his secre­tary, a Mr. Fujita, happened to come into the shop and meet the other two by accident. They had a cup of tea with them but left soon after. It was then that Segawa and Mrs. Ogino began a startling conversation.”

  “And your investigator overheard the whole conversation?” Kirishima felt a chill spreading down his spine.

  “Not all of it, but more than enough.” Yumida produced a smile for the first time since his arrival, but it only reached as far as the rim of his heavy glasses. “Mrs. Ogino kept complain­ing that their affair had been discovered, and Segawa was des­perately trying to reassure her. She asked him how long it’d take before he’d be ready to marry her so that she could ask her husband for a divorce, and he didn’t give a definite answer. And then she said, ‘If Shoichi died, and I became a widow, everything would be solved at once, wouldn’t it?’ This is what Mrs. Ogino said . . .”

  Kirishima sighed, and his clerk who looked as if he were asleep beside him, suddenly twitched his eyebrows.

  “. . . After that they dropped their voices, and the investiga­tor could only catch snippets of their conversation. At one stage he heard him say, ‘If we both have a firm alibi, then it should be all right.’ And she said, ‘I can fix one for myself, but what about you?’ And he replied, ‘I know a woman who’ll do anything for me. If I use her carefully, I should be able to man­age all right.’ These were some of the things the investigator heard them say . . . Well, Mr. Prosecutor, when I examine this conversation in the light of subsequent events, the least I must say is that Mrs. Ogino shared Segawa’s criminal intentions. My legal training—and my sense of justice as a citizen—compel me to reach the conclusion that she’s an accessory before the fact, if nothing more.”

  “I see. And what did you do after learning of this conversation?”

  “The day before Mr. Ogino’s murder I gave him an interim report on the investigation. The same evening I had to travel to Kyushu to attend to another case. I learnt about his death in Kyushu and was terribly shocked. I had an impulse to come back to Tokyo immediately. But I couldn’t let down my cli­ents, and thought that once the police got moving on the case, it wouldn’t take them very long to uncover the truth. I felt it wasn’t necessary for me to interfere with the normal course of justice, and so I left it at that. Three days ago I re­turned to Tokyo and received the formal report from the detec­tive agency. Reading this made me consider the matter once more from every angle. And I came to the conclusion that to do nothing about it would be quite wrong—against the will of the deceased, as well as against the cause of justice. And when I learnt that the police had practically completed their part of the investigation, I decided to come direct to you, Mr. Prosecutor.”

  “I see.” For a few seconds Kirishima seemed to be absorbed in examining his pen, slowly twirling it between his fingers. Then he looked up at Yumida again. “I’d like to ask you some­thing,” he said. “Did you consult any member of the Ogino family, or any executive of the Shichiyo Chemical Company, before coming to me?”

  Yumida adjusted his glasses on his nose. “Quite obviously, I couldn’t tell Mrs. Ogino about it. As for the others, I didn’t want to create the impression that I condemned illicit love af­fairs on personal principle. Nor did I want to appear to be mak­ing a threat in any way. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. But after very careful consideration, I finally did meet Mr. Ogino’s sister, Mrs. Nishiwaki, and told her everything. I thought if she asked me to do no more about it—to protect the family’s repu­tation, I’d comply with her wishes and just watch the case from the sidelines from then on.”

  “But she didn’t try to stop you taking further action, I take it?”

  “No. On the contrary, she positively asked me to proceed. She was very angry—which was not at all unexpected since the victim was her brother. She said it made her feel ill to think that she’d been calling this woman her sister-in-law, even if only for a comparatively short period. She told me that, much as she’d like to do it herself, she or any of her family couldn’t bring a charge against Mrs. Ogino—it was simply below their dignity. But she definitely wanted me to go ahead. She said this was the only way
to carry out the will of her dead brother so that he could rest in peace. And that’s when I finally made up my mind to come to you, Mr. Prosecutor.”

  “Have you brought the formal complaint with you?”

  “I’ll present it to you tomorrow, if you like. I’ll also produce as evidence the full report of the Fukami Private Detective Agency. And if you need a witness later on, Mr. Asaoka—the investigator who overheard the conversation in the café—will be prepared to testify under oath whenever you want him.”

  “Thank you. Well, when I had a look at the complaint and the report tomorrow, I’ll take the necessary action . . . By the way, you haven’t any other information on Segawa’s activities besides this, have you?”

  “Unfortunately, no. As you’ll appreciate, it’d be quite im­practicable to shadow a person constantly, day and night. Even private detectives have their off-duty hours, so the best that can be done is an intermittent investigation. Personally, I thought it was quite an achievement on the agency’s part to establish that Segawa and Mrs. Ogino had gone to that inn not only once, but twice. And securing that piece of conversa­tion in the café—that was sheer luck, I’d say. When I learnt about it, I felt my duty was done, so I stopped the investigation right there. I regret this now, of course. I realise we should’ve pushed on, just a little further. If we did that—who knows—we might’ve been able to secure direct evidence of the murder itself.”

  Yumida sighed heavily, but it was quite obvious from the ex­pression on his face that he wasn’t disappointed at all with the result of the morning’s work.

  For a little while after Yumida had left, Kirishima seemed to have lost his power of speech, as if he had been affected by the poisonous air left behind by the man. He walked to the win­dow and opened it, then slowly lit a cigarette.

  His clerk, Kitahara, brought him back to earth. “Mr. Prose­cutor, things have taken a strange direction, haven’t they?”

  “Hmm. If it had been Segawa’s counsel coming here this morning—that I’d call fundamental progress. But what’ve we got instead? A second prosecutor on the scene.” He gave a sour smile and closed the window. “You don’t think he might be the so-called informer, do you?”

  “Well, he certainly makes me wonder,” Kitahara said, bit­ing his lip. Normally he wouldn’t venture an opinion during working hours, but this time the boss himself had given him the opportunity. “I very much doubt he was telling the truth, anyway.”

  “I feel the same way, as a matter of fact.”

  “If he did make such a report to Ogino, would Ogino have invited Segawa to his home for a friendly drink? What a lot of rot! Imagine him offering a drink to a man he knew was having an affair with his wife. Or worse still, imagine him wanting to be alone with a man he knew was planning to murder him. How crazy can you get? . . . The world must be coming to an end when a lawyer dares bring such crap into the State Prose­cutor’s Office and expects to get away with it. It’s men like him that drag the reputation of the legal profession right through the mud.”

  “I agree with you entirely.” Kirishima sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his swivel chair. “Sadako Nishiwaki has put him up to this, I’d say. The shallowness of a woman’s cunning shows right through the whole miserable business. Anyway, I thought it might be best to play along with them for the time being.”

  “But what made you realise Mrs. Nishiwaki is behind Yumida?”

  “Money, of course—the question of property left behind by Ogino. Since he left no will, Mrs. Ogino’s share of the inheri­tance will be two-thirds, and Mrs. Nishiwaki’s one-third. But if Mrs. Ogino were convicted as an accomplice, she’d automati­cally forfeit her share, even if she weren’t the principal of­fender. Then Mrs. Nishiwaki would get the lot—it’s as simple as that.”

  Kitahara shuddered. “It’s a matter of hundreds of millions of yen coming or going, isn’t it? In a situation like this people are likely to do things they’d never dream of doing otherwise. Like buying a witness, or hiring a crooked lawyer . . . Now that things have gone this far, Mrs. Nishiwaki would probably do anything to have her sister-in-law branded as a partner in crime . . . She probably thinks, whatever she does it won’t bring back her dead brother, so what the hell?”

  “That’s about it,” Kirishima muttered. “Well, I’ll make up my mind on this tomorrow, after I’ve seen the official com­plaint. I may threaten Yumida with a charge of false accusa­tion, or perjury. We might even get an unexpected hint about the truth from his reaction, if we’re lucky.”

  At about the same time, Kyoko called on Toshiko at the Ogino house. Toshiko was thrilled with the unexpected visitor. She showed Kyoko into the living room and offered her a glass of Portuguese wine.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” she said. “My sister has been staying in bed all the time since her husband’s death. I thought of engaging a nurse for her, but she steadfastly refuses to meet any stranger. I’m stuck with the double job of nursing her and looking after the house—at least for the time being.” She sighed with resignation.

  “You poor thing. There isn’t much you can do about it, I sup­pose. At this stage at any rate, your sister does need your help. Her wounds will heal much quicker if she has someone around her who understands her and really cares about her.”

  “That’s probably true, and anyway, I’m the only one she has left now.”

  “But surely she must have some relatives or friends who’d come and comfort her every now and then?”

  “I’m afraid not. The truth is—since the funeral hardly any­body has set foot in this house. The family lawyer, Mr. Kura­hashi, rang her three times trying to arrange an appointment with her, but each time she insisted she didn’t feel up to it . . . Apart from that, there was only Mr. Ogushi. He came twice, but only on the second occasion did she face him and talk to him for about twenty minutes . . . And she keeps repeating she wants to go to some far-away place where nobody knows her.”

  “Well, she’s still young . . . Why don’t you suggest to her to go on a trip overseas when the first forty-nine days are over?”

  “I don’t think she could do it. She’s talking about going away, but I don’t think she’d have the will-power to do any­thing, at least till the trial is over.”

  Kyoko took a sip at her wine. “I hope you don’t mind me telling you this, but wouldn’t it help her if she had a man friend as soon as possible? I realise only time will heal her wounds completely. Even then the scars will remain—she’ll never be able to erase all her painful memories. But if she can find new hope—accumulate new experience of a happier kind—then her wounds might at least stop bleeding, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, maybe you’re right—you’ve some personal experience in this. Your love for your fiancé must’ve helped you greatly in bearing the loss of your father last year.” Toshiko’s voice qua­vered. She closed her eyes, on the verge of tears. “Forgive me for ringing you yesterday about Mr. Segawa—I know I shouldn’t have, but my sister kept pleading with me till I gave in to her.”

  “Well, I certainly got rapped on the knuckles for it.” Kyoko gave a light-hearted little chuckle. “He made it perfectly clear to me that if I marry a State Prosecutor, I won’t be poking my nose into his official business. He refused to tell me anything definite, but the impression I’ve gained is that the prosecution of Mr. Segawa is only a matter of time now. I could be wrong, of course.”

  “I see. That’s exactly what I’ve expected.” Toshiko bit her lip. “Somebody should get him a lawyer . . . We’d be prepared to pay the legal expenses on the quiet, but we must find some­body to engage counsel for him. It wouldn’t look good other­wise, would it?”

  “It certainly wouldn’t . . . But what about Mr. Ogushi? He’s one of Mr. Segawa’s former classmates. It’d be quite natural for him to come to the aid of his friend.”

  “As a matter of fact, he did make some reference t
o this when he was here the other day. He said he’d do anything to help my sister, but he had no intention of setting eyes on Mr. Segawa again. He qualified this by saying it’d be a different matter if Mr. Segawa were proved innocent of my brother-in-law’s murder.” Hesitantly she shrugged her shoulder. “I quite understand how he feels. I don’t think I could ask him.”

  “Perhaps not. Well, then all you can do is follow things qui­etly. You’ll just have to stay out of it, even if you find it difficult because of your sister. Surely when the case goes to court, Mr. Segawa’s family will do something for him? . . . By the way, is Mr. Ogushi fond of your sister?”

  Toshiko sighed. “I’m not sure. It was the year before last, I think—his wife died after they’d been married for only one year. He left his baby daughter in the care of his parents and has been living on his own since . . . I have thought about it. If Mr. Ogushi were prepared to marry my sister after all this, she might find new happiness. But I really don’t know whether I should suggest anything to either of them. Perhaps I shouldn’t interfere—for the time being anyway.”

  Kyoko felt her heart shrink. Of course, this could be entirely Toshiko’s own idea. She lived under great stress at present, and her imagination might’ve carried her away. But even if fantasy did enter into it, her mention of it must’ve been prompted by her intimate knowledge of her sister’s past. Or perhaps Ogushi’s affection for Eiko was strong enough for other people to recog­nise, even if he did his best to hide it.

  Reluctantly Kyoko concluded it was not at all impossible that Ogushi was the man waiting in the wings.