Death Sentences (21 page)

He awoke once, near dawn because he heard Keiko murmuring.

".. I'm

But she was just talking in her sleep.

Her body was still pressed warmly against his, her head resting on his chest.

Beneath the covers with her, drowsy with satisfaction, Sakakibara felt himself drifting back to sleep.

He awoke to dazzling sunshine.

The white lace curtains glittered with light.

The aroma of coffee reached him.

Then it all came back to him.

He threw back the covers to leap out of bed only to find he hadn't a stitch of clothing on.

He got out of bed anyway.

He spotted the clothes he had shed the night before, now folded neatly on the bed stand.

She had even left him a fresh pair of underwear and T-shirt.

He heard her voice.

"Sakakibara-san, are you awake?"

She spoke with same tone that she used with him at work.

"Uh, yeah .. .

Sakakibara answered, feeling somewhat hesitant.

"Come in here once you're dressed. I went out and bought underwear at the convenience store, I hope it fits."

"What time is it?" He asked her while getting dressed.

"It's past nine, about nine-forty. But more important, have you taken a look outside yet?"

"Outside ... ?"

"Yes, outside! You haven't seen it yet!"

Her voice rang with excitement.

And then she came flying into the bedroom.

"You haven't seen it yet? Come on, hurry up!"

She grabbed him by the belt he'd just put on and dragged him over to the window.

Sakakibara's jaw dropped.

Snow hadn't entirely buried the neighborhood, but every rooftop was covered with a mantel of white that shone brilliantly in the light streaming down from a cloudless sky.

"Wow!"

An almost inarticulate noise escaped his lips.

It was truly miraculous.

It felt like some unknown power was celebrating their union.

Sakakibara gazed absently at the scene for some time.

Then he returned to himself, becoming aware of the weight of her hand on his shoulder.

He turned, but her eyes were cast down, no longer gazing up at him.

He was about to say something, but, as if anticipating his words, she turned from him and moved quickly toward the dining room.

"We should get moving. The train will be packed because of the snow-"

Her apartment was a typical two-room studio.

There was a bedroom and a dining room.

A cute little table with two chairs stood in the middle of the dining room.

The interior was simple. It said a great deal about her personality.

By the time he had washed up, breakfast had appeared on the table, coffee and toast, bacon and eggs, with a small salad on the side.

The announcer on the television droned on about how unusual snow was in the city.

Scarcely exchanging a word, they tucked into the food while watching television.

Ten past ten-

They left her apartment.

On the street nearby, Sakakibara's CBX was covered with snow.

It had begun to melt, but the streets were still too slippery for the bike. He had assumed as much and had left his helmet and grip in her room.

They walked side by side to the Ochiai metro station.

"Let's take different trains."

At her request, he took the first train to arrive. As expected, it was jam-packed.

He managed nonetheless to force his way into the crowded train and endured the ride to the next station.

The snow had pretty much melted away in the area around Takada-no-baba station.

With thoughts of Keiko, who would surely be arriving on the next train or the one after that, Sakakibara headed for the Kirin offices.

He first poked his head into the editorial offices on the third floor.

The door wasn't locked. But the lights were on.

When he opened the door wider, he spotted two men, half asleep, one on the floor, one on the sofa.

The one on the floor had a blanket pulled over his head, so Sakakibara couldn't tell who it was, but it was Kojima on the sofa.

When he noticed Sakakibara, Kojima's eyes opened wide.

"Ah, boss. And a good morning to you. You made a good choice returning right away last night. All that snow. We couldn't even get a cab."

He scratched his head, as if looking for an excuse.

"And Miyagami?"

"Ah, Miyagami and the other temp went upstairs to the workroom to sleep."

Well, that explained things. When he went up to the workroom to wake up Miyagami and the student, Mishima Keiko arrived.

They probably wouldn't get much work done that morning, not until those guys' hangovers wore off.

It was already one in the afternoon.

But ... Kasadera hadn't come in yet.

The trains should be running on schedule by now.

(Strange-)

An unpleasant thought crossed Sakakibara's mind.

The expression on Kasadera's face as he climbed in the taxi last night remained clear in his mind.

Sakakibara reached for the phone. He dialed Kasadera's number.

It kept ringing ... seven ... eight ... nine rings.

He lived in a small house left to him by his parents. He lived alone. Still, it was one floor, and so it shouldn't take him long to get to the phone, no matter where he was.

Maybe he had just left for the office.

Sakakibara hung up.

Sometime past two they finally got into the swing of things.

"I wonder what's happened to Kasadera?"

Keiko whispered to Sakakibara when she brought him some tea.

Three o'clock rolled around.

Sakakibara called Kasadera's home once again.

But there was still no answer.

Six o'clock went by.

Kojima and the others went out for dinner. Sakakibara sent Keiko with them and stayed by the phone.

Kasadera wasn't going to show.

Sakakibara ran out of cigarettes.

Thinking maybe there was a fresh pack in his bag, he unzipped it.

The copies of the manuscripts were right on top where he'd thrown them last night.

He pulled them out and fished around until he found a pack of Mild Seven on the bottom.

He tapped one out and lit it.

Again he tried Kasadera's number. Still no one there.

He spread out the manuscript copies on the table.

But he was too tired to make out the words. He finally gave up and put them back in his bag.

The group returned from dinner.

That day-they ended up working well past two in the morning.

1

The day after the funeral, there came a call from Kasadera's mother.

If there was anything that Sakakibara wanted from among the books and papers that he had accumulated, she wanted him to take it.

She said she'd take the remaining books to a used book dealer.

Kasadera Toru had been the youngest of three brothers.

His parents were currently living with the eldest son and his wife in Shizuoka. The middle son was in Nagoya.

Apparently, they had found a buyer for the house in Shibuya where he had been living alone.

"I see. I will come take a look," Sakakibara replied.

It was Friday.

The entire staff at Kirin looked worn out from helping at the funeral the previous day. And so anyone who hadn't an urgent task to complete had been given a respite from the Seito job.

But Sakakibara came in just after ten nonetheless.

He felt agitated at home alone.

Kasadera was dead. And there was no apparent cause.

It was Sakakibara who had found the body. Actually, Kasadera was still alive when he found him.

After two days without word from him, Sakakibara became worried and went to his house in Shibuya.

There was a light on in his house. But the front door was locked. He tried calling from a nearby public phone a few times and then tried shouting from outside. There was no response, though.

Newspapers and letters had piled up in his mailbox.

The lady next door came out.

She recognized Sakakibara. She said that she hadn't seen Kasadera coming or going the past couple of days.

The evening newspaper from the day before was in the mailbox. He had taken in the one from the night before.

That meant that he had returned home that night ... that snowy night.

He used the neighbor's phone to call the police. They broke the lock on the back door and went in.

The house was warm. A strange odor laced the air.

The light was coming from a sitting room that he used as a study.

He was there.

A burner on the gas stove was on.

There was Kasadera, stretched out on his back sleeping, his legs under the kotatsu, a low table equipped with a heater.

The room reeked of alcohol.

They soon realized why.

On the kotatsu lay the pile of photocopies of the manuscript, a French Japanese dictionary, and a pad of paper. Beside them was a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

It was all too obvious what he'd been doing.

That night he returned home well past two in the morning, and while having a nightcap, he'd started reading the manuscripts signed Who May.

The bottle of whiskey had been left uncapped. It was now empty. The glass was empty, too. Later they discovered that he hadn't drunk the whiskey. It had evaporated in the heat. That explained why the place reeked.

At first Sakakibara thought he had drunk too much and fallen asleep like that. But that wasn't it. Kasadera wasn't sleeping at all. He was lying there with both eyes wide open, staring into space.

His one hand was still clutching one of the three manuscript copies.

The policemen contacted the station immediately. A police car and an ambulance showed up in no time.

At that time he was definitely alive.

Although the heat from the gas stove and the kotatsu had thoroughly dehydrated him, he had a pulse and was breathing.

"He'll be okay. He'll get through this," pronounced the doctor in the emergency room.

His diagnosis was not entirely wrong. The treatment successfully pulled him through the worst of the crisis. At least this is what the doctor said. He was on the way to recovery physically.