Ruined Map - Abe Kobo [29]
However, the client he forced into suicide was, strangely enough, a hundred-per cent victim. The client did not know who her father was and had been raised by women. She had become a lonely young girl with great determination to succeed. She was running a small beauty parlor at the corner of a building. One day a shabby old man, whom she at once recognized as an alcoholic, appeared and testily proclaimed himself to be her father. Since, thanks to him, she had experienced a lot of hardship in growing up, she did not believe him at once. But as she listened to his story, all kinds of details came out which only her father could have known. The little scar, for instance, back of her dead mother’s ear that was invisible since it was usually covered by hair … the coral hair ornament, a memento of her grandmother … the story about the high suspension bridge in her mother’s village, that she herself had seen only in a photograph. And then when he guessed right about her blood type and even the birthmark on her shoulder, she gradually began to feel that the shape of the ears and nose of the man before her were somehow quite like her own.
That day, in view of everything, she handed him a thousand-yen note and got him to go away. But three days later, his breath smelling of alcohol, he put in another appearance, saying he just wanted to catch a glimpse of her—another thousand yen. It became an event that took place every three days, then every other day, and finally daily. The girl gradually grew uneasy. If this were her real father she couldn’t let things go on as they were. So finally she came to our office, and it so happened that he was put in charge of investigating the identity of the self-styled father.
If he had thought only about satisfying her expectations, without paying any attention to the truth, as was his wont, perhaps the tragedy could have been avoided. But for some reason he was suddenly tempted by his old devil. Quite unlike himself, he volunteered to play the role of angel. But unluckily his real nature surfaced at once.
The girl, however, was not satisfied with his report and suggested another investigation. At that time he should have done at once what she really wanted done. It would still have been better to get money by threatening blackmail—he was so good at that—and return to being lowest man as usual. But apparently he was too assiduous in his role as angel. Like a kindergarten teacher who tries to correct a child’s unbalanced diet, he decided to push things through with no concessions. I cannot recall now whether it was a question of the real father or a false one—if you ask someone, they’ll tell you right away, though it makes no great difference which—but anyway, the girl, who knew she had no alternative but to accept the results, committed suicide. When he learned what she had done, he came down with a serious mental disorder. Then, about a half year later, he was put in the care of a mental clinic and at the end of last year was at last discharged. Anyway, that’s the way I heard it.
Wearily, the chief repeated: “He’s back in the hospital, I hear. Anyway, take your eyes off him an instant and they say he stops breathing to the point of fainting. Strange, isn’t it? Can you imagine someone being able to do that? He’s really lost his senses, I’d say.”
Same day: 2:05 P.M.—Left the office. Headed in the direction of F—— City. I went to try to establish contact with Mr. M, the councilman there who on the day