The Tokyo Zodiac Murders (9 page)

Kiyoshi pored over the details for a few moments.

“Look, it may seem only natural,” he said, “but the deeper they were buried, the later they were found. The one that was abandoned on the ground was found first. Perhaps that was the killer’s intention? I think that the bodies were found in the
order that the killer planned. Now what could he have meant by that? Hmm… There are two possibilities: one, it would have helped the culprit cover his crime; two, the order might have been related to astrology or alchemy, which Heikichi was obsessed with. The first was Aquarius, the second Scorpio, then Aries, Cancer, Sagittarius, Virgo… No, I take that back. There doesn’t seem to be any astrological order… or any relationship between the order and the geography… Wait, wasn’t the one buried closest to Tokyo found first? No, I’m wrong… It seems there’s no meaning to the order after all.”

“I must admit I don’t think the order is important, either,” I said. “The killer could have been planning to bury all six bodies, but got tired. The holes he dug got shallower and shallower, and finally Tomoko was thrown out on the ground. Couldn’t we trace the killer’s trail from that point of view?”

“The deepest ones were in Hyogo and Nara—which aren’t so far apart—but another deep hole was found in Akita, and that’s a long way away.”

“Yeah, that throws a bit of a wrench in that theory, doesn’t it? If Yukiko wasn’t buried so deep in Akita, things would be simpler… First, the killer goes to Nara and Hyogo to bury Reiko and Nobuyo. Next, he goes up to Gumma and buries Tokiko. Then he goes straight up north to Aomori and buries Yukiko at Kosaka, on the border with Akita. From there, he goes south to Iwate and buries Akiko, and then he gets tired and doesn’t bother burying the sixth victim, Tomoko. He just throws her body on the ground and goes back to Tokyo.”

“It’s possible that he might have been worried that the corpses would be found before he got back to Tokyo, rather than that he got too tired of digging.”

“Yes, that could be true. But Yukiko was buried deep in Akita, while the nearest body, Tokiko, was buried shallow. The order is deep, deep, shallow, deep, shallow, not buried. In fact, there’s no order to it. Was it one killer travelling from east to west, or—something we haven’t considered yet—two groups of the military secret service doing the whole thing at the same time? As I recall, there were organizations like that in Tokyo then. One group could have gone west to Nara and Hyogo and then come back to Gumma; the other group could have gone to Akita, Iwate and Miyagi in the east. Each group could have buried the first victims deeper. That makes more sense. But that would eliminate the theory of a single killer.”

“By that thinking,” Kiyoshi commented, “Tokiko would have been left on the ground by the group in western Japan.”

“Hmm. It’s hard to believe that the secret service had a role in it. In fact, there was someone knowledgeable about military internal affairs who testified that the secret service would never do anything like this.”

“Ah-ha!”

“The secret service might have been covering it up!”

“I wouldn’t trust the testimony of an insider.”

“Well, if Yukiko was deeply buried, we could infer the possibility that the killer lived in Kanto, in eastern Japan. If he lived in Aomori, Yukiko, who was the last to be buried, would have been left on the ground without a care.”

“You may have something there,” Kiyoshi allowed. “But aren’t there any other clues? There are a lot of mines on the islands of Kyushu and Hokkaido, but the bodies were only found on Honshu. There were no tunnels connecting the islands in those days, so perhaps the killer was limited to disposing of
the bodies on Honshu. Did the killer bury the girls in the order of their age? Let’s see… Tomoko was twenty-six… Akiko was twenty-four… Yes! At least they found the oldest first and then on down to the youngest last. What could that mean?…”

“I think that’s just coincidence. Some people did think that was a clue, but they couldn’t make it mean anything.”

“Maybe… maybe not.”

“I think that’s about it,” I said. “So what do you think?”

“Well, it’s much more difficult than I expected,” he responded, knitting his brow and pressing down on his eyelids. He seemed depressed again, or maybe he was just acting. “I won’t be able to solve it in one day. It’ll take me several days at least.”

“You can solve it in several days?!” I thought he was joking.

“Everyone had an alibi for the Azoth murders,” Kiyoshi began, as if talking to himself. “The murders seem to have been carried out randomly, the only logic or purpose being the note left behind by Heikichi. But it seems there was no one close to him who would have reason to execute his plans. And no one could have read the note. The secret service couldn’t have read it, and why would they be interested in this Azoth business anyway? So far, Kazumi, we’re stuck!”

“That’s right. So why don’t we move on and figure out the next part of the mystery—the numbers 4, 6, 3 and 13?”

“Ah, yes. Heikichi said Azoth would be placed at the centre of Japan.”

“So you remember.”

“Of course I do. The centre between east and west—on longitude 138° 48’ E. Am I right?”

“Absolutely. Very impressive!”

“So Azoth would have to be somewhere on that line. Why don’t you take a walk along it and find it?”

“Not feasible. The distance is about 355 kilometres, almost the same as from Tokyo to Nara. The line is interrupted by the Mikuni Mountains, the mountainous terrain of Chichibu and the forest around Mount Fuji, so that would render an automobile or motorbike useless. Moreover, Azoth could be buried; it’s impossible to dig like a mole for 355 kilometres! We need to figure out where to dig.”

Kiyoshi snorted. “Oh, that’s not so difficult. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning…”

His voice had fallen so low that I couldn’t catch the last part of his sentence.

I suddenly got busy the next day at work, and I wasn’t able to see Kiyoshi until the evening. He didn’t contact me, either. Perhaps he was concentrating on the mystery of the numbers. As a freelance illustrator, I sometimes resented my situation because it left me no freedom of choice. I wanted to continue my discussions on the murders, but turning down my clients would mean I might lose them for ever.

I once complained to Kiyoshi, “If I switched over to a nine-to-five job, my life would be easier.”

“Dangle a carrot before a horse, and he will run!” Kiyoshi said, standing up abruptly. “There’s a man in the rose bushes. Cutting them down with a hatchet, he thrashes through to reach the house. Do you get the picture?”

I had no idea what he meant, but I nodded as if I did.

“His devotion to that seemingly long journey is not as worthwhile as it might seem. If he had only climbed the fence and looked around him, he would have seen that the goal was actually very close.”

My ignorance must have been apparent.

“What a shame!” said Kiyoshi with a sigh. “If you don’t understand, then even a Picasso masterpiece will lose its value.”

I only figured out what he was saying later. He was suggesting that working like a dog is ridiculous. But I think he also meant that he didn’t want to be alone; he would miss my
company if I got a regular job. His pride was so great that he couldn’t tell me the truth in a straightforward way.

After my busy day, I went round to see Kiyoshi. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood. Usually when we met he was lying on the sofa as if he was drifting about on a raft in the ocean. But on this occasion he was up and roaming around like a bear, mimicking the electioneering speeches blaring out from the sound trucks outside.

“Let’s fight together,” he squeaked in a high-pitched, tremulous voice, perfectly imitating the female candidate Otome, “or we Japanese citizens will be in dire financial straits!” Suddenly his voice dropped low, and he proclaimed, “Kanno! Kanno! Kanno! Mansaku Kanno promises you the health care you deserve!” Obviously, something good had transpired. He turned towards me, waving his hand and smiling broadly. Then he announced, “I have solved the 4-6-3 mystery! Those sound trucks were driving me crazy, but I managed to figure it out.”

With a cup of coffee in hand, he began to explain.

“It’s like this, Kazumi. We knew where the centre of the north-east–south-west axis of Japan was. But we didn’t know where the centre of the north–south axis was. According to Heikichi, the northernmost tip of Japan is Kharimkotan at latitude 49° 11’ N, and the southernmost tip is Iwo Jima at latitude 24° 43’ N. That makes latitude 36° 57’ N the centre point. Cross that with the central east–west axis, at longitude 138° 48’ E, and you come out somewhere around the Ishiuchi ski area in Niigata.

“Heikichi also declared the island of Hateruma, which is at latitude 24° 3’ N, to be the real southernmost tip of Japan, so I tried to find the centre between Kharimkotan and Hateruma. It
was latitude 36° 37’ N. This line crosses the longitude 138° 48’ E line somewhere around the Sawatari hot springs in Gumma Prefecture. The locations of Ishiuchi and Sawatari are about 20’ apart. This statistic could be important.

“Heikichi described Mount Yahiko, at latitude 37° 42’ N, as the bellybutton of Japan. Mount Yahiko and the Ishiuchi ski area are exactly 45’ apart, but still there was nothing of the numbers 4, 6 or 3 anywhere. The distance between Mount Yahiko and Sawatari is 65’—again, not a number we’re looking for.

“So I lay down on the floor for a while, and then a brilliant idea flashed through my mind. I looked up the longitude and latitude of the six mines where the six girls’ bodies were found. I made a list. Look at this…” Kiyoshi said triumphantly and threw a sheet of paper at me. This is what was written on it:

	Kosaka Mine	Akita	Long.140° 46’ E	Lat. 40° 21’ N
	Kamaishi Mine	Iwate	Long. 141° 42’ E	Lat. 39° 18’ N
	Hosokura Mine	Miyagi	Long. 140° 54’ E	Lat. 38° 48’ N
	Gumma Mine	Gumma	Long. 138° 38’ E	Lat. 36° 36’ N
	Ikuno Mine	Hyogo	Long. 134° 49’ E	Lat. 35° 10’ N
	Yamato Mine	Nara	Long. 135° 59’ E	Lat. 34° 29’ N

“When I averaged these longitudes, I got a shocking result: 138° 48’ E. Do you know where that is? It is the exact same location that Heikichi designated as the east–west axis. So those six mines were no coincidence! Next, I averaged the latitudes of the six mines, and the result was 37° 27’ N. This crosses 138° 48’ E somewhere in western Nagaoka. If you compare this location with the centre of the north–south line between Kharimkotan and Iwo Jima, they’re only 30’ apart. Between 37° 27’ N and Mount Yahiko, the distance is only 15’.

“So now we have four points, including Mount Yahiko, lining up on 138° 48’ E. Going from south to north: first, there’s the central point between Kharimkotan and Hateruma; 20’ north from there is the central point between Kharimkotan and Iwo Jima; 30’ north from there is the average latitude of the six mines; and, finally, 15’ north from there is Mount Yahiko. Four points are placed on the line of 138° 48’ E with intervals of 20’, 30’ and 15’. Divide these distances by five, and you get 4, 6 and 3; add them up and you get 13!

“When those four points are added together and then divided by four, the result is 37° 9.5’ N. This point crosses longitude 138° 48’ E somewhere on the mountain in the town of Toka, in Niigata Prefecture. That must be where Azoth is! You know, Kazumi, the coffee I brew is always good, but today it is the best ever! Can you taste the difference?” And with that he burst out laughing.

“Um, yeah, it tastes all right…”

“Huh? Is that all? Hey, I’ve solved the mystery of 4, 6 and 3! I even drew a map for you. Here.”

“Well, yes, you’re great,” I replied reluctantly. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but what he didn’t know was that this same conclusion had been figured out by several other diligent amateur detectives, too. “It’s really admirable. You got this far in just one night; that could be a record…”

“What? You mean someone else has done this before?”

“Well, forty years have passed since the murders, Kiyoshi. Even an ordinary man can build a pyramid in that time.”

This rather blunt kind of response was something that I had learnt from Kiyoshi, and I was just giving it back to him. He was not amused. He kicked the sofa and shouted angrily,

“I’ve never been involved in this kind of nonsense before! What am I doing? Just following someone else’s well-worn path? You already know all the answers, and you’re just testing me! Why are you wasting my time like this?”

“No, Kiyoshi, no…”

He stood by the window, refusing to turn around, refusing to respond.

“Kiyoshi, I just…”

“I know what you meant,” he said, turning to face me. “I don’t think I’m extraordinary. We all live on the same planet, we all share the same consciousness and emotions—but does that make us all equal as human beings? Look at the Tokyo businessman, look at the man from Thailand growing rice, look at the artists and the bankers. Sure we’re one consciousness, but our present and past karma are different. We have knelt at different graves and walked through different gardens. Our lives are but a burst of stardust, or a passing cloud. I’m not a freak, but others are. I feel like I’m living on Mars. When I look at the existence of other people and try to understand their lives, I feel dizzy!”