Ruined Map - Abe Kobo [8]
“Your brother again? But unfortunately your brother isn’t available.”
“Oh, my brother’s the one who had the idea of helping you like this. It’s true. Please believe me. My brother’s like that.” Then suddenly her voice became more intense. “It’s true. My husband didn’t break his word. He didn’t, really. I’ve proof. It just occurred to me I have. That morning, he left once and then came back again right away. That’s important, I think. It was only a minute after he had gone downstairs. He forgot the paper clip. It occurred to him that he should clip separately some of the documents he was supposed to hand over at S—– station.”
“I’ve heard that already.”
“Oh dear. I suppose you have.” The girl smiled tightly with her lips, showing her teeth, but she could not conceal the anxiety in her eyes. “I’m always talking to myself. I’m sorry. It’s a habit. No one objects no matter how many times I say things to myself, you see. It’s stupid … the paper clip … I always thought so. But I wondered if the fact that he came back for it wasn’t proof he really intended to keep the appointment. Since I’m asked by everyone, I’ve got in the habit of repeating only that.”
“Everyone?”
“The ones I talk to when I talk to myself. But the clip business is so trivial. It’s all right for attaching papers, I suppose. But I realize my only real hope depends on that little clip.”
I WALKED slowly ahead, halted, turned on my heel, and walked back again over the rough asphalt sidewalk. With normal strides, it was thirty-two paces from the corner of building number three. When I looked up, the row of street lights, artificial eyes that had forgotten how to blink, seemed to be waiting for a festival procession that would never come. The pale, rectangular lights reflected in the windows had long since abandoned such festivals. The wind slapped at my sides like a wet rag. Raising the collar of my coat, I began walking again.
If I believed her literally—or the words she spoke to herself—within these thirty some paces an unreasonable and unforeseen event had lain in wait for him. And as a result ofit he had not only disregarded the appointment at S—– station, but had boldly and irreversibly stepped across a chasm, turning his back on the world.
“ALL RIGHT. Purely in terms of imagination, the following is conceivable. For example—don’t take it amiss—a blackmailer who knew some weakness of your husband’s. For example, an old mistress, a child he may have had by her—these things happen—some youthful error still outstanding that could crop up like an unexpected ghost. Furthermore, it’s August, the month when they say dead souls come back to earth, just the right season for ghosts. And women aren’t the only ones who come back as spirits. A sometime accomplice in embezzlement, now ruined by dissipation, is a fine candidate too … a vindictive second offender just out of prison. Don’t you know of some habitual blackmailer who may have been arrested through secret information given by your husband? Of course, the trap might also have been set by some perfect stranger. We’ve had our hands full with forgery cases lately. Apparently, forceful methods are in fashion … like secretly taking out insurance on a man in one’s own name and then killing him by running him over in a car. Of course, unless the body is discovered and the identity confirmed, it isn’t worth a yen. But I should imagine that’s not your husband’s case. Perhaps, since there’s still no word from the police, we should consider the case as accidental death or the same as accidental death. If it’s murder, he’s probably incased in cement at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. But if that’s true, it complicates matters. It would mean that he was involved with a pretty dangerous gang. A smuggling organization, maybe, or a counterfeiting ring.”
The girl had stopped drinking halfway through her second glass. One by one the bubbles collapsed, the beer turning to dregs before my eyes. I didn’t stir. Was she deep in thought,