The Ginza Ghost Read online

  The chauffeur clicked his tongue in frustration.

  Inside the phaeton it was anything but calm. The speedometer was showing the maximum reading, while the radiator was spewing out little clouds of steam. The whole car was shaking tremendously from the great endeavour, which woke the gentleman in the back.

  ‘Are we at the toll road yet?’

  ‘We’ll arrive there shortly,’ replied the chauffeur without even turning back. At that moment, the speeding coupé could be seen once again for a brief moment on the mountain on the other side of the ravine.

  ‘My word.’ The gentleman leant forward. ‘Hurrying like that in such a place. And what a stylish car, too. Who could that have been?’

  ‘Probably some drunken gentleman on a drive here from his villa in Hakone,’ the chauffeur answered, without giving it much thought.

  ‘Can you pursue him?’

  ‘I can’t. I’m doing the best I can, but that car is a completely different machine from this one!’

  The gentleman leant back and peered into the darkness outside. From his lowered position, he could see a sudden, fierce flash of white light breaking through the dark mountain shadows, but it was gone in a second. The gentleman felt there was something tragic about it, and repositioned himself on the seat.

  Then it happened. Without any warning, the car lost speed and the gentleman was thrown forward and had to place his hands on the chauffeur’s shoulders. The car had made a sudden stop.

  2

  The gentleman looked up and saw a person lying on the road in front of them, illuminated by the headlights. The person raised his head and waved feebly with one arm.

  The chauffeur had already jumped out of the car and run out to the prostrate figure. The gentleman followed rapidly. The person lying there was an elderly man, probably a vagrant. He was severely wounded.

  ‘That crazy… car… just now…,’ the wounded man groaned. The gentleman immediately bade the chauffeur help him carry the victim into the car.

  ‘… Thank you…,’ said the wounded man as he breathed with visible pain. ‘As you can see… I’m a traveller of the night… He suddenly appeared behind me… I tried to avoid it… Sir, please, help me….’

  It appeared he wasn’t able to speak any more, and fell back on the cushions with his mouth open and eyes half-closed.

  The gentleman nodded in irritation and moved himself and his bag into the passenger’s seat, next to the chauffeur.

  ‘Let’s go. And step on it. I don’t suppose there are any doctors until we reach Hakone?’

  ‘True enough, unfortunately.’

  The chauffeur drove off at full speed.

  They finally arrived at the pass.

  The road suddenly became level. They were not surrounded by forest up there. It was wave upon wave of grassy mountain fields. From time to time, the revolving light of an aerial lighthouse would make the surroundings as bright as day. A car approached from the opposite direction. The blinding light hit their eyes painfully. Was it the coupé they had glimpsed just now?

  No, this car was something completely different: a sedan. A man and woman, presumably newlyweds, wore sleepy faces in the back seats.

  ‘Did you pass a coupé just now?’

  As the two cars passed each other, the chauffeur posed the question to his colleague.

  ‘Yes. At the entrance to the toll road!’ shouted the other driver with a smile, and the car with the newlyweds drove off again.

  After a while the car arrived at the Jikkoku Pass entrance of the toll road. A modern-looking white station building was illuminated by electric lights, and in front of that, a boom barrier—similar to those seen at railway crossings—blocked the road, in the same way as a barrier station.

  Two men were standing in the middle of the road, doing something in front of the boom barrier. When the car stopped in front of them, one of the men ran over to the ticket window, which also served as the office.

  The gentleman jumped out of the car and went over to the ticket window. While he was taking the toll fee out of his coin purse, he also asked for something else besides a ticket.

  ‘Did a fancy, cream-coloured coupé pass through here just before we arrived?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the ticket officer replied briskly.

  ‘What kind of man was he? The man in the car....’

  ‘I didn’t see him.’

  ‘You didn’t see him? But he had to buy a ticket, didn’t he?’

  ‘No. That was the car of one of our bosses.’

  ‘What, your boss?’ The gentleman pressed further.

  ‘Yes,’ said the clerk as he punched the ticket. ‘It was the car of Mr. Horimi, an executive of the company, so he doesn’t need to buy a ticket.’

  ‘Horimi, you say? Aha, that young executive of Gakunan Railway. So the driver of the coupe was this Mr. Horimi?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure….’

  ‘There were two men riding the car, perhaps?’

  ‘No, just one person. I’m quite sure of that.’

  The clerk seemed to be mistaking the gentleman for a police officer and was answering politely.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the gentleman to the clerk, ‘there’s been an accident. That coupé hit a pedestrian and drove off.’

  ‘A hit-and-run!?’ the clerk exclaimed. ‘And the victim?’

  ‘We took him in my car.’

  ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘No, he was hit quite severely. I fear he won’t make it to Hakone alive.’

  The clerk was visibly shocked by what he was told, and his face turned paler by the second.

  ‘How horrible… I thought it was odd…. Actually, we had something strange happen here too.’

  ‘Something strange?’ The gentleman leant forward.

  ‘Yes, you see, it was the car of one of our executives, so when I saw it pull up here, I rushed out to raise the boom barrier. But I guess he was in a hurry, because I hadn’t raised the barrier completely yet, when the car raced off in a frenzy, hitting the front side of the roof against the bar.’

  The clerk pointed to the road in front with his chin. ‘The two of us were just busy making emergency repairs.’

  Now it was the turn of the gentleman to be surprised.

  ‘Hmmm. Anyway, I will head for Hakone immediately. Oh, do you have a telephone here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Splendid. Please contact the police in Hakone. Tell them to pick up that coupé right now. Understood? Even if it’s your executive or CEO or something, he needs to be caught.’

  ‘We have another way to do that, actually. I can make a call to the other end of the toll road, to the station at the Hakone Pass entrance, to make sure they won’t raise the barrier for him.’

  ‘That’s a brilliant suggestion. But he might just drive right through it.’

  ‘Don’t worry. There’s an iron core inside the bar. The car can’t pass through it unless it’s raised, just like what happened here.’

  ‘I see. That’s interesting. So we’ll catch him between the exits. Won’t that coupé have arrived on the other side already, though?’

  ‘He shouldn’t even be halfway yet.’

  ‘Good. Please make that phone call then. Don’t let them raise the barrier for any reason.’

  The clerk ran back inside the station.

  A moment later, the phone rang out loudly, while the half-broken barrier was raised and the gentleman’s phaeton—carrying the fatally wounded victim—hurried along the toll road in the middle of the night heading for Hakone Pass.

  3

  I think that most readers are already familiar with the particulars of the Hakone-Jikkoku automobile toll road, but allow me to explain some simple points here, as they are crucial for a good understanding of the extraordinary incident that will occur in a few minutes.

  The mountain range connecting the Jikkoku Pass and Hakone Pass—where this toll road is located—is a main part of the Fuji Volcanic Zone, which runs from north-to-south th
rough the joint where the Izu Peninsula connects to the mainland. The grassy mountains take on the form of an uneven drainage basin, with Sagaminada to the east, and overlooking Suruga Bay on the west. The Gakunan Railway Corporation had purchased this uneven part of the mountain at 2500 feet height, laid a modern, bright automobile road there, and, as in the Edo period, people wanting to make a sightseeing automobile trip had to pay a “border crossing fee” to enjoy the magnificent scenery. The six-mile long toll road which ran from north-to-south was a private road, with stations at both the Jikkoku and Hakone end. It was one single road, with no branch roads. And, as was mentioned, there were boom barriers at both stations, and guards to make sure nobody passes through without paying the fee. It was therefore impossible to sneak onto the toll road midway, nor was it possible to sneak out from the toll road once you had entered it.

  However, while it was one single mountain road, it was not a straight road that went on for miles. It was a road of which the main goal was sightseeing, so to make sure travellers wouldn’t get bored by the beauty of miles of straight lines, the road also featured many pleasantly smooth curves. The road displayed zigzags, S-curves, C-curves and U-curves as it went past ravines all the way up to the top of the mountain.

  But the beautiful scenery of this nice toll road was of course not a match for the darkness. Especially on a muggy, dark night such as the one in question, when the clouds are low, all you can see is the fearful, stretching silhouettes of the bare mountains gradually appearing far away on the horizon, with the last remaining light behind them. It reminds one of a shadow picture of a mountain in the underworld. The car with the gentleman and the wounded man followed the lines of the top of the mountain in the shadow picture. They had reached the midway point of the toll road, hurrying on as if being chased by something.

  ‘I thought I’d seen that car before,’ commented the chauffeur as he manoeuvred the steering wheel.

  ‘Do you know this Mr. Horimi?’ asked the gentleman, sitting in the seat next to him.

  ‘No, I only know him from pictures in the newspaper. But I know about his villa in Atami. It’s on the hilly side of town.’

  ‘Would Mr. Horimi be in residence there now?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t know. Anyway, the villa has its own garage.’

  The gentleman lit a cigarette and smiled contently.

  ‘We haven’t passed any cars. That coupé is probably held up at the Hakone Entrance, now the station has closed off the road there.’

  To their left, far down below, they could see a group of lights, like sparks of fire in the darkness. It was probably the town of Mishima.

  Like a runner nearing the tape, the car started to kick up more dust as it switched into a higher gear. As it entered the last straight stretch, they could see the white-painted station glistening up ahead.

  ‘Oh!’ exclaimed the gentleman.

  ‘There’s no car there!’ The chauffeur raised his voice simultaneously.

  The boom barrier was lowered right over the middle of the road, but there was no sign of the coupé anywhere. A swarthy man—probably a clerk—emerged from the station and blocked the road as he waved his arms.

  The gentleman stepped out of the car and shouted out as he shut the door with a bang: ‘Didn’t you get the call?’

  ‘We did get it.’

  ‘Why did you let him pass then!?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Why did you let that car pass?’

  ‘But….’

  The clerk appeared to be very surprised. A rattling sound was followed by another man appearing from out of the office. The gentleman looked at both of the men as he said in a grave tone: ‘My name is Ōtsuki and I am a criminal lawyer. Even if that coupé is owned by a famous entrepreneur, I will certainly not allow him to run over someone and get away with it. Don’t you people have any conscience?’

  ‘Wa-wait a minute,’ the second clerk interrupted. He was a serious-looking young man with a broad forehead.

  ‘Please allow me to answer you clearly. Save for your own car, nothing has passed by our station here at the Hakone Entrance, not a coupé, not even a cat!’

  4

  Several minutes later, Ōtsuki’s high-pitched voice on the phone could be heard throughout the station, overwhelming the echoes of the other ringing telephones.

  ‘Yes, hello. The Jikkoku Pass Station? The Hakone Entrance here. I’m the one with the wounded person in my car just now. Did the coupé return to your side? Eh? It didn’t? I see, I see. Hmmm. It didn’t come here either. It’s nowhere. It’s gone. On the way? No, of course we didn’t see the car. Yes, it is peculiar indeed. Alright, thank you.’

  ‘Yes, hello, is this the Atami Police Station? You’re the night watchman? I’m Ōtsuki, the lawyer. Is there someone there I could speak with? Mr. Natsuyama? Yes, please get him on the phone. Lieutenant Natsuyama? Ōtsuki here. No, I’m the one who has to apologise. I am sorry I had to call you so suddenly, but something odd has happened. I’m at the station at the Hakone side of the toll road now. Yes, there was a hit-and-run with a car, but that’s what so strange. It doesn’t appear to be just a simple hit-and-run. Yes, yes. Of course we chased after it. We closed up both stations and trapped the car on the toll road. But you see, it’s disappeared. No, really. Eh? Of course I’ll wait. Alright, please hurry then. Oh, and come here in cars, not on motor bikes. Yes, I had my car proceed to Hakone with the victim. He was terribly wounded. Well, I’ll see you later.’

  ‘Hello. Hello? Am I speaking with Mr. Horimi in Atami? Yes, I’m sorry for calling at this hour. Excuse me, madam, but you are? Aha, I see. I am Ōtsuki and I’m a lawyer. Some pressing matter has arisen. Is your master at home? Eh? He’s not? He’s in his home in Tōkyō? Is anyone of his family staying in Atami then? Who? The young miss? She went to Kamakura? Is there anybody else staying in Atami? Er? What? You have one guest. I see, there is a guest there. Well, I am going to ask you something strange, but do you have a car in the garage at your place? Eh? You have? That’s odd…. You see, we just spotted your car here near Hakone. I don’t know who was driving it, but it was a cream-coloured coupé. If you don’t believe me, you should check the garage. Eh? I see, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll wait while you check.’

  ‘Ah, I’m terribly sorry. Did you check the garage? Ah, so the garage was completely empty? I see, I see. What? Your guest was murdered?’

  Ōtsuki dropped the receiver loudly. The office clerks who had run inside the station all looked at each other with pale faces, their bodies frozen to the spot. An ice-cold silence passed by, but Ōtsuki pulled himself together. He picked up the receiver again to make another call.

  ‘Give me the Atami Police Station! Hello, Atami Police Station? Has Mr. Natsuyama left already? He’s about to? Quickly, you need to get him on the phone. Oh, Mr. Natsuyama. It’s terrible. The car we talked about. That car belongs to Mr. Horimi, you know, of Gakunan Railway. I just made a phone call to his villa, and it appears someone at the villa was killed. Yes, yes, that means the murderer used the car to flee. I don’t know who was driving the car, but we will make sure nobody will escape and keep a close eye from both stations, so you head for the villa first and once you’ve finished your investigation there, you should hurry here. Okay, I’ll be waiting….’

  5

  Horimi’s villa was situated in a quiet place even for Atami, on the hilly side of town. The masters of the villa, the Horimi couple, had moved back to their home in Tōkyō at the start of summer. In return, their only daughter, Tomiko, and her private tutor—a foreigner—had come to the villa about ten days earlier. But in the afternoon today, they had been visited by a very unwelcome guest, and the two of them had basically fled to Kamakura. It was this guest who had been murdered. Ei’ichi Oshiyama was his name, and he was an affluent young gentleman.

  Ryōzō Horimi had proved himself in many businesses besides Gakunan Railway, but he’d had to incur some painful blows the last few years, and he’d been forced to borrow a f
ortune from Oshiyama’s father. Seemingly aware of this weakness, Ei’ichi had been chasing after Tomiko, who was still too young for marriage.

  Tomiko of course detested Oshiyama. So when Ei’ichi arrived at the villa, Tomiko and her tutor Evans left the unsettling place. Evans was an old lady, born in the United States, who had been close to the Horimi family since Tomiko was a little girl. Around the time Tomiko started attending the girls’ academy, Evans became her private tutor, teaching her English. Evans loved Tomiko as her own daughter, and as her own granddaughter.

  Two maids, mother and daughter, remained at the villa during the master’s absence. It was the mother Kiyo who had been awakened from a deep slumber by Ōtsuki’s pressing phone call.

  Kiyo had picked up the receiver as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, but had hurried outside after being surprised by the strange tale of the person on the other end of the line. When she discovered that the car that should have been in the garage had disappeared, and that the front gate had been left open, she thought it was the guest who had been careless. But when she opened the door of the guest room, she found Oshiyama, dressed in his pyjamas, lying beside his bed in a pool of crimson. Kiyo had run back to the telephone immediately.

  After she had answered Ōtsuki, Kiyo quickly called the police. Even after her call, she was not able to move, and stood frozen in the telephone room, trembling.

  Lieutenant Natsuyama had been thrown into confusion by all the telephone calls, but he sent some police officers to the toll road, while he himself also took some officers along to Horimi’s villa. The medical examiner who had arrived afterwards determined that Oshiyama’s cause of death had been the two stabs wounds to the heart made by a knife-like weapon. One of the wounds had not been a clean, straight stab, as it had left a sideways scratch on the victim. Not even an hour had passed since the murder.