A Quiet Place (13 page)

At this point Eiko may already have been dead. No, she must have been, decided Asai. By the time Chiyoko Takahashi had told the university student to run and fetch Doctor Ohama, she was laid out in the tatami room at the back, no longer breathing.

“I checked my watch. It's very important to do that. It was 4.35 in the afternoon on the seventh of March… Her pupils were dilated and her heart had stopped beating. There was nothing I could do… According to Ms Takahashi, your wife had taken her last breath about thirty minutes before I arrived… And so I based the time of death on what Ms Takahashi told me… Probably not as long as an hour… Yes, well, I suppose it's possible…”

All Doctor Ohama's words. After persistent questioning by Asai, the doctor had finally conceded that Eiko could have passed away as long ago as an hour earlier.

Asai was certain that all of the evidence pointed to this being the reason that Kubo had signed over his land to Chiyoko Takahashi.

The Hotel Chiyo had appeared barely six months after Eiko's death. The negotiations must have begun right after the incident. How much had Ms Takahashi paid Kubo for his land?

Asai pictured the face of the cosmetics shop owner, her careful way of speaking and her engaging manner. But underneath lurked something not quite so pleasant – a greed and cunning, and the boldness that came with her thirty-something years. Perhaps she wasn't just the kept woman of the cosmetics wholesaler; what if they had conspired together to exploit Kubo's weakness?

Couples' hotels were a prosperous business. Up on that hill, all the hotels were thriving. He guessed that Ms Takahashi had long since given up on her failing cosmetics business and thought of going into the hotel business. And then suddenly there was a golden opportunity to acquire the land she needed. Kubo revealed his weakness when he asked for her help. She must have got an excellent price. It was blackmail, pure and simple. Certainly, Genkichi Higai must have been involved somehow. Or maybe they'd employed a yakuza type to threaten Kubo. Konosuke Kubo's name may only have been added to the list of board members for the sake of appearances.

To tell the truth, Asai wasn't all that interested in the exact method Ms Takahashi had used to get Kubo's land. He was far more interested in Kubo himself. The man who had killed his wife.

He could have investigated whether the days of Eiko's excursions corresponded with Kubo's days off work, or the days he'd left work early, but he didn't really need to.

Back at the ministry, Asai scrutinized documents, met with manufacturers and businessmen, attended meetings, drafted proposals. But in every quiet moment his mind was assaulted by the image of the tall man with the long face.

13

The detective agency's report had mentioned that on the last Saturday of the month, Konosuke Kubo used to travel by train up to a sanatorium on the Fujimi plateau to visit his wife. He always took the train nicknamed Alps #4, which left Shinjuku Station at 1.10 p.m. Asai found this last part out himself by calling R-Textiles one Saturday afternoon and telling the receptionist in General Affairs that he was an acquaintance of Kubo's.

“I'm sorry – Mr Kubo left about an hour ago. Yes, he's on his way to Fujimi in Nagano Prefecture… Which train? The 1.10 express from Shinjuku… Yes, that's right. He always takes that one.”

It took about three and a half hours to get from Shinjuku to Fujimi. Kubo would be getting in around 5 p.m. That would fit in nicely with visiting hours at the sanatorium. Asai imagined that he would stay the night in Fujimi or neighbouring Kamisuwa, then go back again to the sanatorium on Sunday morning to spend some more time with his wife before returning to Tokyo.

Visiting Nagano once a month without fail to comfort his sick wife made Kubo look like a caring husband, but Asai was sure that he felt obliged to do it for show. This was the same man who had thought only of saving his
own skin when he dragged Eiko's dead body to Chiyoko Takahashi's shop. Everything was appearances with him – he was cunning and two-faced.

The fourth Saturday in October fell on the twenty-fifth.

A little before one in the afternoon, Asai was walking along the Chuo Line platform at Shinjuku, his dark glasses in place. The Alps #4 was already sitting in the station, allowing him to walk the full length of the train, glancing into the windows with an air of nonchalance. Kubo wouldn't recognize his face, which gave Asai a distinct advantage when tailing him.

Kubo was sitting in the first-class car, around the middle of the carriage, next to the left-hand window. He was reading a newspaper. There was no one next to him and one older gentleman sitting opposite. The two men appeared not to know each other. Asai seated himself several rows away, across from a mother and child, but kept Kubo in sight.

Seeing as Asai knew Kubo's destination, he wouldn't need to observe him the whole time. However, he had one small concern. This express didn't stop at Fujimi station. According to the timetable, it would stop at the slightly larger Kobuchizawa, just before Fujimi, at 4.24 p.m. They would need to transfer to a local train, departing at 4.52 and arriving at Fujimi at 5.05. There would be about a thirty-minute wait on the platform at Kobuchizawa.

Would Kubo wait there for half an hour, or would he just take a taxi directly to the sanatorium? It was difficult to predict, although Asai thought the taxi would be the more sensible of the two options.

Asai planned to confront Kubo somewhere en route to the sanatorium. Visiting hours were probably limited,
so he could conceivably catch him on his way out, but it would be getting late by then. If, say, visiting hours ended at eight, it would already be dark, and he wasn't sure that Kubo would be willing to talk to him. Ideally, he should try to intercept him in a quiet location, with no one around.

So it was going to be important to keep an eye on Kubo, just in case he didn't get off the train at Kobuchizawa after all. He'd assumed at first that the man would go straight to Fujimi, but what if he didn't? What if he'd just told everyone that he visited his wife from Saturday to Sunday, but in fact spent the Saturday night enjoying himself at a completely different location before turning up at the sanatorium on Sunday? He might spend the night at the hot-spring resort of Kofu, or even somewhere further afield, such as Shimosuwa.

The train set off. Kubo was still reading his newspaper, and hadn't met or spoken to anyone. Asai tried to read a magazine, but it was hopeless; the letters wouldn't stay still on the page.

A large number of passengers got off at Kofu. Other groups of sightseers boarded, apparently on their way to admire the autumn leaves. There were signboards on the platform touting the beauty of the Shosenkyo Gorge at this time of year. Asai raised his head to check on Kubo. He hadn't moved from his seat and was staring out of the window, smoking a cigarette. He looked bored.

So he would either get off at Kobuchizawa or Shimosuwa. If it was Kobuchizawa, would he wait thirty minutes on the platform for the local train, or take a taxi?

After Kofu, the train slowed down as it began to climb more steeply. The outline of Mount Fuji disappeared
from the left-side window just as the mountain ridge of Yatsugatake became visible on the right. The woods on both sides became gradually more crimson.

With all the new passengers from Kofu, half the carriage was filled with new faces. The elderly gentleman opposite Kubo had been replaced by an elegant woman of around thirty, dressed in a kimono. Asai wondered whether the two had planned to meet on the train, and watched the movement of their heads over the top of the seats, but they didn't appear to be talking to one another. They must be strangers, after all. Kubo seemed to be engrossed in some kind of magazine now.

This was the first time that Asai had ever had the chance to observe the object of his hostility for such a long period of time. He watched his every gesture: the turn of his head, his hand movements, the hunch of his shoulders – everything typical of the average Joe, bored by a long train journey. When he thought of how his own wife could have been seduced by a blend of such banal and trivial gestures, he felt something grow in the pit of his stomach and the bile began to rise in his throat. But along with the unpleasantness, there was a sweet feeling of satisfaction that all his efforts to discover the identity of his rival had led to this moment. In order to completely savour the sensation, he would have to take care how he went about the next stage of his plan.

Asai hadn't loved Eiko to the extent that his heart would never recover from the shock of her death. What he felt now was anger that she had betrayed him, and that the coldness that she had shown him was the fault of this man, Kubo. He couldn't let things be. He hated this man
whose seduction techniques had reignited a spark in his wife after she'd been frigid for so many years. He knew that Kubo was capable of all kinds of cunning and ingenuity, as evidenced by his plan to dump Eiko's body on his neighbour. Asai's thoughts were not of avenging his poor wife for having been innocently led astray by this playboy; no, this revenge was entirely for himself. At least, if he'd stopped and thought about it, that was the conclusion he would have come to, but in the heat of the moment he was blinded by his emotions and had convinced himself that he was there to vindicate Eiko.

The train crossed the border into Nagano Prefecture, and immediately began to slow even more. Passengers began to stand and gather their belongings. The tall figure of Kubo rose from his seat and reached for his bag from the overhead luggage rack. Asai sprang to attention. It was just as he'd thought – he planned to get off at Kobuchizawa.

As the train pulled into the station, Kubo set off for the far exit door, without once glancing back. Asai immediately exited from the other end of the carriage.

Around half of the passengers headed straight for the steps up to the exit bridge, and the rest stayed on the platform to wait for the local train. Kubo was among the twenty or so who stayed. The train would get him to Fujimi in under fifteen minutes, so Asai supposed it was worth waiting the extra half hour to save on the taxi fare. He was sure Kubo felt no pressing need to rush to his sick wife's bedside.

Asai kept himself at a safe distance. Kubo was facing east, so Asai made sure he was turned the opposite way. Across from him was a tall mountain, whose name he
didn't know. The late-afternoon sun shone crimson on its summit. It was the end of October, and the air was rather cold so high up. Standing completely alone, your shadow thrown across an unknown station platform by the setting sun, would have been enough to make anyone melancholy, but Asai didn't feel any sadness right at that moment.

It was a long half hour, but the train finally came. There weren't many people boarding, so Asai made sure he chose a different carriage. As the train passed through the ridge, the mountains cast a bluish shadow over the autumn colours, and beyond, the far slopes of Yatsugatake were pitch-black.

Kubo was among the passengers getting off at Fujimi. Asai imagined his bulging bag was filled with presents for his sick wife. He followed him, making sure there were no more than three or four other people between them at any time. He feared losing sight of the man, and even more that Kubo might take a taxi from the rank in front of the station. If that looked likely, Asai intended to approach him before he could climb in.

But to Asai's surprise Kubo got on to a bus that was waiting in front of the station. He hadn't prepared for that eventuality, but he decided it would be safe to get on too. Asai would just have to make sure he kept his back to Kubo all the way to the stop for the sanatorium.

They passed by the bright lights around the station, and headed out of the town. Up on the expanse of the plateau, small glimmers of daylight remained. Kubo got off at the sanatorium, followed by three other passengers. Asai hung back.

About fifty yards away, built on the highest ground, the sanatorium, with its brightly lit windows, looked just like a hotel. The three passengers who had got off the bus in front of him turned off in different directions, so at last Asai was alone with Kubo in the midst of this vast landscape.

The other man set off along the road. Asai raised his dark glasses to look at his watch. It was just before six. Kubo's slightly hunched figure was a few yards in front of him. The road sloped upwards. As a car headed towards them from the direction of the sanatorium, Asai turned his face away from the glare of its headlights.

After the car had passed, Asai called out to Kubo.

“Excuse me!” His voice came out breathless. He didn't sound like himself at all.

The figure ahead stopped and turned. In the gloom he could just make out the long, bespectacled face. It was definitely the same man who'd been watching him outside the cosmetics boutique. But this time he seemed less menacing. He could see at once that Kubo didn't recognize him, and this gave him a slight sense of relief, but at the same time his heart lurched in his chest.

This lasted a mere two or three seconds, then Asai approached Kubo, a smile on his face.

“Excuse me, but are you Mr Kubo?” This time his voice came out normally.

“Yes, that's right.”

Kubo stood there looking a little puzzled, apparently waiting to discover who this was addressing him.

“Are you on your way to the sanatorium?”

“Yes, but… If you don't mind my asking, who are you?”

Asai stood his ground. The other man being much taller than he was, he was forced to raise his eyes to look him in the face.

“I'm Asai.”

Kubo looked even more puzzled. He hadn't realized who Asai was. He was clearly trying to recall all the Asais of his acquaintance.

“I'm sorry, Mr Asai from…?”

“Tsuneo Asai. Surely this isn't the first time you've heard my name?”

It was a dramatic way to announce it, but he hadn't prepared for this particular conversation, so it just came out that way.

Kubo suddenly looked as though he had swallowed a lump of lead. His glasses had slipped a little way down his nose, but his eyes were fixed firmly on Asai's face. Asai continued.

“No, in fact, this is the first time we've met. I'm Eiko's husband, Tsuneo Asai.”

Asai spoke frankly, and even bowed his head slightly.

“Mr Kubo, I'd like to ask you some questions about my wife. Could you spare me some time?” he asked, raising his eyes once again to Kubo's.

A look of panic crossed Kubo's face. If it hadn't been so dark, Asai was sure he'd have seen his features twisting and his eyes blinking rapidly. He was yet to reply.

“You're just about to visit your wife, I presume.” Asai took another step forward. “I'm sure you're in a hurry, so shall we just have a chat in the lobby or the waiting room?”

“No,” interrupted Kubo. “Not there. It's impossible.”

“I see. That'd be a problem for you, would it?”

“Yes. Please spare me that.” Kubo was almost begging.

“I see. You don't want your wife asking awkward questions?”

“Right.” Kubo hung his head.

“I understand. Well then, where shall we have our conversation? It's already getting late and dark…”

Kubo didn't respond.

“There don't seem to be any cafés around here. Is there a coffee shop or something at the sanatorium?”

“I'd prefer to avoid any of those places,” said Kubo weakly.

“So where can we talk? Should we go back to town? Wait for the next bus?”

“No… no. If you don't mind, could we go for a walk somewhere? I'd rather not have anyone overhear our conversation.”

“Take a walk? You mean on one of these country roads?”

Kubo bowed his head in supplication. “Yes. If that's all right.”

To tell the truth, this was what Asai had hoped for all along. Or it would be more accurate to say he had steered events directly towards this outcome.

What Asai had never anticipated was that Kubo would admit so easily to his relationship with Eiko. He'd expected his adversary to play dumb, to deny everything. After all, the man had shown himself to be a wily character. Asai had expected to have to work to get any kind of confession, and had come prepared for all different lines of attack. But he hadn't needed any. Kubo hadn't dodged his questions, presumably because Asai had managed to take him by surprise, to materialize right in front of him out
of the darkness. He had been unable to defend himself. Overwhelmed by his accuser's determined manner, Kubo had realized that Asai knew the whole truth.

The two men turned off the road to the sanatorium and took what was barely more than a track towards the foot of the Yatsugatake mountain ridge. There were few buildings in sight, and just the odd light vaguely visible between the dark mass of the forest and the smaller groves of trees. There was nobody else around.