Occupied City (29 page)

3. I stand in the Seibo Catholic Hospital, by the beds of the four survivors
crawling out of hell, on their hands, on their knees
THE CRIME SCENE IN MY MIND Nuns stick hoses down their throats, doctors pump out their stomachs
down the bank’s corridors, into the bank’s genkan
THE CASH ON THE DESKS, THE VAULT DOORS WIDE OPEN I watch them cough, I watch them wretch, fluid and bile
through the doors, into the street, the snow and the mud
NOTHING OUT OF PLACE, NOTHING BUT THEIR BODIES I wait for them to wake, I wait for them to speak
on their hands, on their knees
THE SOUND OF RUNNING WATER, THE DIRTY CUPS BEING WASHED Beside their beds, beside their lips
it was the drink, it was medicine, a doctor, dysentery
THE CRIME SCENE CONTAMINATED

4. I turn the corner into my street
what fine men, straight as trees
I CAN HEAR HER VOICE, I CAN READ HER THOUGHTS I see my wife, her child strapped to her back, standing with her friend
that one gave you a very friendly eye
HER LASCIVIOUS VOICE, HER WANTON THOUGHTS They are watching the American soldiers passing in their jeeps
look at you, your shining eyes
NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING Having fun, I ask
that child is not your child
SKIN UPON SKIN, FLESH INTO FLESH What are you doing here, she asks, shouldn’t you be at work
mist rises from under the ground, black smoke from their American ovens
NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I say, I was in the neighbourhood, why
their fog follows me, follows me to work, follows me back home
AMERICAN SKIN UPON JAPANESE SKIN, AMERICAN FLESH INTO JAPANESE FLESH Why nothing, she says, come home, I’ll make you something to eat
he thinks too much, his mind wound tight
NOT SPEAKING, BUT MOANING I can’t come home, I say, I’m still on duty
it is always so dark, he is always so haunted
HER WORRIED VOICE, HER FRIGHTENED THOUGHTS Is something the matter with you, she asks, you look so distracted
he never even looks at his own child, he will go mad from his own
thoughts
I HEAR HER VOICE, I READ HER THOUGHTS Nothing is the matter, I say, but I must go
no sunshine, no streetlights, only clouds, only shadows
ALL THEIR VOICES, ALL THEIR THOUGHTS

5. Wake up, Detective N., says Detective Inspector H., shaking my shoulders, kicking my chair
bones aching, chest hurting
IN THE OCCUPIED CITY I sit up, I cough twice
eyes smarting, ears ringing
WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE We’ve just received a report of a body, sounds like a suicide, at an inn in Shiinamachi, near to the Teikoku Bank
from the smoke, from the tune
THERE IS NO RESISTANCE Take Detective K. and go check it out, says Detective Inspector H., handing me an address on a scrap of paper
from the music-box, the American ovens
THERE IS NO UNDERGROUND We walk down Mejiro-dōri, we cross over Yamate-dōri, then we turn left into the Nagasaki neighbourhood, looking for the Kiraku Inn in Shiinamachi 5-chōme
the smell of burning, the sound of scratching
IN THIS CITY OF COLLABORATORS There is an ambulance outside the inn and a doctor stood with the owner of the inn and his wife
outside the rooms, inside the rooms
IN THIS CITY OF TRAITORS They lead us up a narrow, steep staircase, then down a long, dark corridor to a closed door at the back of the inn
biting, chewing, devouring
EVERY WIDOW IS NOW FOR SALE He’s in here, says the owner as he slides opens the thin stained door to a small dim room and a body on a futon, the quilt pulled back, the body clothed
you can always hear their teeth
EVERY WIDOW, EVERY WIFE, EVERY WOMAN It looks to me like a suicide by potassium cyanide, says the doctor, and I read in the newspaper that you believe the killer at the Teikoku Bank may have used potassium cyanide, so I stressed this when I reported the death
for everything decays, decomposes and dies
IN THE MARKET PLACE, IN THE SHOP WINDOW I walk over to the window, I slide back the screen
how many bodies, how many rooms
OLD BODIES, FRESH MEAT The body is dressed in a grey sweater, a khaki coat, and black serge trousers
in rooms that are not yours
TWO-FACES, TURN-COATS A black overcoat hangs by the door, a wallet lies on the floor beside the futon
you open doors, you enter rooms
ON THEIR KNEES, ON THEIR BACKS I pick up
the wallet, I open up the wallet, ¥100 inside the wallet
how many rooms that were not yours, how many bodies that were not yours
MY WIFE, MY MOTHER He gave his name as Yokobe Kunio, says the owner, and his profession as a company official from Komagawa-mura, Iruma-gun, Saitama Prefecture
from room to room, from body to body
IN THE SHOP WINDOW, IN THE MARKET PLACE And he arrived here when, I ask
in the black fog, in the black mist
FOR A NEW MAN, FOR A NEW LIFE About 9:30 p.m. last night, says the owner
in your eyes, in your ears
IN A NEW COUNTRY, IN A NEW CITY How long do you think he’s been dead, Detective K. asks the doctor
the sound of whispering, the sound of scratching
THEIR RINGS LOOSE, THEIR LEGS OPEN Not very long, replies the doctor, he’s still warm
from the American ovens, from the music-boxes
IN THIS COUNTRY OF NO RESISTANCE He’s better off than me then, laughs Detective K.
among the smoke, among the tunes
IN THIS CITY OF NO RESISTANCE How did you discover him so quickly, I ask the owner
you are always so suspicious, you are always so jealous
I HATE THE LOSERS, I HATE THE VICTORS The owner shakes his head, then looks at his wife, and he says, She did
her eyes will wander, her legs will wander
I HATE ALL AMERICANS, I HATE ALL CAUCASIANS I couldn’t sleep last night, says the wife, I had such terrible dreams, dreams about the Teikoku Bank, I had a bad feeling, a bad feeling about him
no father for her child, no provider for her needs
THE WHITE STARS ON THEIR JEEPS, THE WHITE TEETH IN THEIR MOUTHS I point at the body, and I ask the wife, A bad feeling about him
you are never here, you are always gone
WHITE SKIN ON YELLOW SKIN, WHITE FLESH IN YELLOW FLESH She nods, About him
what does she see in him
WHERE IS THE RESISTANCE I stare at her, in her
monpe
trousers, in her heavy sweater, and I ask, Why
this woman is much younger than her husband
IN THIS CITY OF COLLABORATORS The wife shakes her head, the wife closes her eyes, then the wife slowly says, Last night, I passed him in the corridor, and he suddenly squeezed my arm, and said he had come to see his friend, but his friend was not here
she could have any man she wants
IN THIS CITY OF TRAITORS He had tears in his eyes, tears on his cheek, she says
a better man than you
I AM THE
DETECTIVE, I AM THE RESISTANCE I cough once, I cough again
an exorcism, an exit
THE ONLY RESISTANCE, IN THIS CITY Is it him, asks the wife, the Teikoku killer
not you, never you
NO RESISTANCE CITY I shake my head, I say, His hair is too long, it can’t be him, the Teikoku killer, not him, no
you are no exorcism, you are no exit
NO RESISTANCE

6. I am early, he is late, it doesn’t matter
wa-oh-wa-oh
IN THIS FOREIGN CITY, IN THIS ALIEN CITY I enter the dancehall
beat me mama, with that boogie-woogie beat, that Tokyo boogie-woogie, beat me, beat me
ALL THINGS ARE FOREIGN TO ME, ALL PEOPLE ARE ALIEN Jungle music and tom-toms, yellow skin and Negroid hair
the shadows lengthen, in time, the shades advance, in rhythm
NEW DANCES, OLD TUNES The dance among the ruins, the dance of the living dead on the ashes of the really dead
sakura boogie-woogie, jungle boogie-woogie
NO LONGER HUMAN, NO LONGER LIVING Bones on skin, sticks on drums
in borrowed dresses, to stolen songs
DANCING NEW DANCES, HUMMING OLD TUNES In the lights, in the mirrors, everything is reflected
we are always reflected
REFLECTED, FRACTURED, DISFIGURED AND OTHER I see my wife, but is it her
bows and ribbons in her hair
YESTERDAY’S ENEMY IS TODAY’S FRIEND Every woman looks like her, every woman moves like her
in the redness, in the heat
THE BATTLE IS OVER NOW, THE WAR AT AN END I see my Japanese wife dancing with an American soldier
in the smoke, in the fog
WE PRAISE THEIR MARTIAL SKILLS I see them spin upon the floor, fall then roll around
on and on, dancing and dancing, on and on, turning and turning
THEY PRAISE OUR COURAGEOUS HEARTS Why don’t the gods blow out the sun, then everyone can roll around fucking and fucking
him, her, hell, hell
WITH FOND FAREWELLS AND SALUTES WE PART No, do it in bright daylight
flesh, filth, man, woman, human, animal
WHEELING TO THE LEFT, THEN TO THE RIGHT Do it like the flies on my hand
in fields and in lewdness, in debauchery and in democracies
IN NEW DANCES TO OLD TUNES The bastard, how he touches her up, how he feels her up, the slut
she curtsies, he bows
NO LONGER LIVING, NO LONGER HUMAN I get up from my chair, I cannot
wait in this dancehall
they clap their hands, their hands are hammers
EVERYTHING FOREIGN HERE, EVERYONE ALIEN NOW I leave
all the things of this world, they are evil things
NOTHING IS SPARED, NO ONE IS SPARED

7. Detective Inspector H. gives me a new file, the Matsui File, and I read the Matsui File, cover to cover
all men have secrets, all men tell lies
BAD MEN, GOOD MEN His was the name-card presented at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank, the name used in the rehearsal for the Shiinamachi branch of the Teikoku Bank
somewhere to someone
IN WARTIME, IN PEACETIME We have already questioned Dr Matsui Shigeru, we have already eliminated Dr Matsui Shigeru; his alibi checks out, his appearance doesn’t match
all men are guilty, are guilty of something
WAR CRIMES, PEACE CRIMES But there are things about Dr Matsui that don’t check out, there are things in his background that do match
somehow, somewhere
THE CLUES LIE IN THEIR WORDS Dr Matsui works for the Health and Welfare Ministry in Sendai, Dr Matsui served in the Imperial Army as chief of the Public Sanitation and Health Administration Department in Java, Indonesia
crimes never stay secret, secrets never stay secret
IN THEIR WORDS LIES THE EVIDENCE The newspapers printed the story of the rehearsal at the Ebara branch of the Yasuda Bank, the newspapers printed the details of Dr Matsui Shigeru and his name-card, the newspapers printed that Dr Matsui Shigeru was being interviewed by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Board, the newspapers printed that Dr Matsui Shigeru was employed by the Health and Welfare Ministry, that he had served in the Imperial Army in Indonesia
men always talk, talk to someone
THE EVIDENCE OF THEIR LIES, THE EVIDENCE OF THEIR GUILT Two days after the newspapers printed their stories about Dr Matsui Shigeru, a letter arrived at the Special Team investigating the Teikoku Bank robbery, an anonymous letter, an anonymous letter about Dr Matsui Shigeru, about the things Dr Matsui Shigeru had done in Indonesia, the crimes Dr Matsui Shigeru had committed in Indonesia
in confidence, in betrayal
ALL MEN ARE GUILTY, ALL MEN ARE CULPABLE I keep reading the anonymous letter and I keep remembering this one fact: Dr Matsui’s card was the card used, Dr Matsui’s name was the name used; so the suspect had his card, so the
suspect knew his name; so the suspect knows Dr Matsui Shigeru, so Dr Matsui Shigeru knows the suspect
all men have secrets, all men are guilty
IN WARTIME, IN PEACETIME I put down the letter, I close the Matsui File, I pick up the phone
all men, always
BAD MEN, BAD MEN

8. Dr Matsui Shigeru has already been questioned about the Teikoku murders, Dr Matsui Shigeru has already been eliminated as a potential suspect, but Dr Matsui Shigeru is still in our custody, still helping us with our inquiries
you seem distracted, Detective
DISPLACED We have drawn up lists, lists of the people to whom Dr Matsui Shigeru gave his name-card, the name-cards exchanged and the name-cards received
is something troubling you, something on your mind
FROM THE PAST, IN THE PRESENT, FOR THE FUTURE We have asked any member of the public who may have exchanged name-cards with Dr Matsui Shigeru to present themselves with the name-card of Dr Matsui Shigeru at their local police station
trouble at home, with the wife
DISLOCATED Now I ask Dr Matsui Shigeru to tell me the names of the people with whom he worked in Java, Indonesia, the names of the people with whom he served in the Imperial Army in the Public Sanitation and Health Administration Department in Java, Indonesia
twenty days straight, no days off, it’s not easy, with a wife
UNABLE TO FOCUS, UNABLE TO FORGET My memory is poor, Dr Matsui Shigeru tells me, it must be the effect of that South Asian climate, but I don’t remember them well, the people with whom I worked, the people with whom I served
a wife much younger, a pretty little thing, with a young child, both left at home, to fend for themselves
THE FUTURE, THE PRESENT, THE PAST Well one of them, at least, remembers you, and remembers you well, I tell Dr Matsui Shigeru and I pass him the letter, the anonymous letter
naturally it must be a worry, a distraction, always there, at the back of your mind
DISORIENTATED I’ll be seeing you again, I tell Dr Matsui Shigeru, so don’t be going anywhere now
are you listening, Detective
OUT OF PLACE, OUT OF TIME

9. In the bathhouse
we are letting Dr Matsui Shigeru return to Sendai
IN THE LOOKING-GLASS Men are shaving their faces
as
you know, Dr Matsui Shigeru suggested we interview his colleague, Mr Hoshi Shōji in Sendai
I HAVE MY FINGERS IN MY EARS On their stools
as you know, Detective T. interviewed Mr Hoshi Shōji in Sendai
IN THE LOOKING-GLASS Men are washing each other
as you know, Mr Hoshi Shōji’s alibi checks out, Mr Hoshi Shōji’s appearance doesn’t match
BUT I CANNOT CLOSE MY EYES Buckets of water, over their heads, over their bodies
as you know, Mr Hoshi Shōji suggested we interview Dr Matsui Shigeru’s former colleague from Indonesia, ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima
IN THE LOOKING-GLASS I pick up the soap, I lather the soap
as you know, we issued an APB for ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima
MY BODY IS NOT MY OWN I wash the shoulders and the back of Detective Inspector H.
as you know, the description of ex-medical Sergeant Major Karajima does not match that given by the survivors
IN THE LOOKING-GLASS You always look so wrought, he says, you always seem so distracted, Detective N.
so we are sending Dr Matsui Shigeru back to Sendai with Detective T., to search through his house, to go through his address book, to collect all his name-cards
ALIEN, FOREIGN Harder, he says, rub harder, Detective
to refresh his memory
IN THE LOOKING-GLASS