Ruined Map - Abe Kobo [103]
Fortunately there was still no one else around. I rushed up the stairs, two at a time, and rang the white bell in the white iron door, bordered with its dark green frame. Although it had only been on a day since I had been here, I felt like someone who has been on a ship and touches land for the first time in a month. Whatever the meaning of the curtains that had changed to stripes, this blood-spattered face of mine should afford me free admission.
At the second ring the cloth over the peephole was rolled up. It was not surprising she had taken so long, considering the hour. I heard the chain being hurriedly unfastened. The handle turned, the door opened wide.
“What has happened to you? It’s so early in the morning …” she gasped in the amazement I had anticipated.
“It was the Camellia. Will you let me wash up my face?”
At least there were no men’s shoes in the entryway. She wore a net over her hair and had on a strange pajamalike quilted garment that made her look like a young girl. I still couldn’t make her fit in with the impressions I had gleaned from the photo that I had spent two successive evenings intently studying.
“When you say ‘Camellia,’ you mean that coffee house?”
I took off my topcoat and my jacket; my sleeves and my collar were blood-soaked. As I carefully wiped away the stains with absorbent cotton, which I dipped into the basin of lukewarm water she had brought me, I briefly explained the situation to her. With exaggeratedly painful breathing I told her about the worrisome information I had got out of the parking lot attendant … and the driver Toyama’s story which supported it … and the unlicensed employment agency for temporary drivers that was forbidden by law.
“You’d best not touch the cuts too much. Shall I change the water?”
“A nose bleed, I guess. The cuts don’t amount to much. They sting, but they’re no more than bruises.”
“Why did they have to be so violent, I wonder.”
“I guess they had to be.”
“Anyone who takes refuge there must be desperate not to be found out.”
“Did you know that Tashiro committed suicide?”
“Suicide?”
“Why does everybody want to run away?”
“What was his motive? I suppose he had some reason.”
“Motives … I have some things to tell you about when I get the time, but … To make a long story short, he got lost … where was he? … did he really exist the way he thought he did? It was others who proved both his existence and his whereabouts, but since not a single one took any notice of him …”
“If that were the case, I’d have to be the first to die,” she said, her tone of voice suddenly normal again as she tossed back her remark. “Do you want to try on my husband’s shirt? I hope it fits you.”
“But I’ve lost my job on account of him. The chief’s got an extreme case of police phobia. If there’s any possibility at all of getting involved in complications, it means dismissal. What about it … will you let me go on with the investigation for the remaining two days plus, even though I’ve lost my status?”
“Maybe it’s my fault.”
“You changed the front curtains, didn’t you?”
“I’ve put on some coffee. Yes, let me think, it must have been the day before yesterday … the day of my brother’s funeral. That’s right, it was right after your visit. The coffee stain just wouldn’t come out. Then I sent them to the cleaners. I was talking to someone who absolutely had to have a cup of coffee. I prepared it all right, but as I was carrying it out, he suddenly tickled me from behind …”
Suddenly I felt a rising nausea. A violent pain radiated from my eyes, reverberating against the back of my skull, focusing at the back of my neck, knotting my throat.
“Was this fellow another dream about your husband?”
“Yes, I guess so. I guess it was, when I think about the tickling.”