Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam Read online

  Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. I have to save them. The victims must not die. That’s the ideal. That’s the way the world should be.

  “Kunikida, hurry!” Dazai yells to me from behind.

  No. This isn’t right.

  “No!” Miss Sasaki wraps me in her arms, stopping me.

  Why? Why are you holding me back? Nobody deserves to die. I won’t let them.

  Dazai drags me out of the room. All I remember is screaming something.

  All four victims are dead.

  CHAPTER II

  11th

  Returning home late, I face my inkstone in silence.

  Though this is a day I will never forget, I will not inscribe it in my notebook.

  No matter how difficult the trial, no matter how great my disgrace, I must laugh.

  But for now, there is only silence.

  I read the paper at my desk at the office. The news has been chaotic all morning. Sensational reports flood the television and Internet.

  MISSING YOKOHAMA VISITORS FOUND DEAD

  DID A PRIVATE DETECTIVE AGENCY’S MEDDLING LEAD TO THE VICTIMS’ DEATHS?

  And then there are the images—the white gas, the suffering victims, and me, grabbing on to the cage. It’s only a matter of time before the pictures make the front page of the newspaper. The agency’s phone has been ringing off the hook all morning with no end in sight. So far, they’ve all been complaints, but it won’t be long before the victims’ families begin to call us to threaten legal action. To make matters worse, we still have no leads as to where the remaining seven missing persons are.

  Who took the pictures the moment the victims were killed, and why make them public?

  The phone on my desk gives a teeth-grinding trill. I reach for the receiver, but Dazai promptly snatches it up and puts it back in its cradle. The ringing stops.

  “Looks like this is exactly what the enemy wanted, huh?” Dazai says cheerfully. He’s carrying a photo in his hand. “If it’s any consolation, this is a really good picture of you.”

  I silently try to take it from him, but he nimbly lifts his arm into the air before I can.

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You look awful.”

  “…No. There’s work to be done.”

  “Wow. You’re not gonna take a day off even after all this? You know, someone threw a rock at me on two separate occasions while I was trying to come into the office today.”

  I look outside. A few protesters have been standing in front of the agency, causing a ruckus since morning. There will undoubtedly be even more tomorrow.

  “‘Take a day off’? Have you lost your mind? We have a mission of utmost priority: Find the criminal behind this.”

  “Well… Yeah. You’re right,” Dazai agrees with a blank look on his face.

  “Where’s Miss Sasaki?”

  “She’s in the infirmary getting examined by Dr. Yosano. Sounds like she’s gonna be okay.”

  “Let’s pay her a little visit.”

  I get out of my chair. Miss Sasaki is the only known victim to have had contact with the murderer and lived to tell the tale. We can probably figure out who the perpetrator is if we can learn how they’re kidnapping everyone.

  I casually look down at the picture before following Dazai into the infirmary. You can clearly see my face in the pictures along with Miss Sasaki’s and the victims’, but the most of Dazai you can see is the tail of his overcoat. How was he able to avoid the secret photos?

  “I’m sorry… I really wish I could help you, but…”

  Miss Sasaki helplessly gazes at the floor.

  “I’ve always been prone to illness, and I’m anemic, which causes me to faint every now and then. I was feeling especially ill the day I was abducted… I passed out at the train station, probably from the anemia.”

  In that case, I guess she wouldn’t have any idea how she was abducted. However…

  “Then that would mean someone abducted you in the midst of the confusion after you passed out.”

  Kidnapping someone in the middle of a place as crowded as Yokohama Station would be impossible. Carrying an unconscious woman would draw even more attention. Either there are multiple kidnappers or someone’s using a very clever trick…

  “Let me just say…thank you so much for saving me yesterday. I… I don’t have any friends or family to turn to, so…”

  Miss Sasaki hangs her head low in silence. She doesn’t say another word after that. With her naturally delicate features coupled together with the porcelain skin, she reminds me of a marionette doll whose strings have been cut. Actually, her own experience isn’t too much different. As if her thread of life had been cut, she was almost killed by an unidentified serial killer for who knows why, and her life could still very well be in danger.

  “You even allowed me to stay at your home last night…”

  ……Hmm?

  “Hold on. Where did you stay last night?”

  “My place,” Dazai nonchalantly replies.

  …………

  …………Are things like this the norm nowadays?

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Dazai. You… You were very…kind to me last night…”

  Miss Sasaki flushes bashfully for some reason.

  “What’s wrong, Kunikida? You’ve got a really weird look on your face.”

  “Dazai… Don’t you think that’s taking things a little too fast?”

  “I… I was the one who asked him to let me stay over. I basically forced him.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. I simply did what any gentleman would. Besides, I’m used to getting asked for things from people I’ve just met,” he replies with a smile.

  …………

  I have no interest in frivolous love affairs. Two people must have mutual respect for each other when building a relationship. If you ask me, an unplanned single night of fleeting passion is unforgivable and shameless. So—therefore—for this reason alone, it doesn’t matter how popular a fool like Dazai may be, because I am not the least bit jealous or frustrated.

  Not the least bit jealous!

  “What a beautiful, misfortunate woman,” Dazai says with a smirk. We’ve returned to the office to prepare for our next investigation.

  “So that’s your type?”

  “I like all types of women. They’re the bearers of all human life, a source of mystery. But I do like the fact that Miss Sasaki would probably kill herself with me if I asked.”

  “Go marry a cicada or something, then.”

  Relations between the sexes must be pure and strong. The only feminine company I intend to keep will be with my ideal spouse, where we complement and lift each other up, and I will be with her until the day I draw my last breath. That is my ideal. It’s also written in my notebook.

  “What about you, Kunikida? What do you think of Miss Sasaki?”

  “She’s a victim and a witness to the case. That’s all.”

  “I’m asking only because I can’t even begin to imagine, but…what’s your ideal woman like?”

  “You’re free to read about it.”

  I open my notebook to the page titled “Spouse” and show him. All my future plans are written here.

  “What is this, an encyclopedia?!”

  His expression slowly hardens as he skims over the page.

  “…Whoa. Oh no, no, no… This is just… Wow. I’m…”

  “The hell kind of reaction is that? Is it weird?”

  “No, not at all. I think all guys can relate to the ideals…of each section.”

  “Right? What’s wrong with having standards?”

  “Exactly. I agree with you one hundred percent, Kunikida. A word of advice, though: Never show this to a woman. It’d really turn them off. I mean, even I’m struggling to keep myself from yelling ‘A girl like this doesn’t exist!’”

  Is it really that far-fetched?

  “Okay, I get it. Now let’s get to work and find that kidnapper. By the way
, have you found out anything else?”

  “There’s one thing I noticed.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you truly wish to pursue your ideal woman, then we’re going to have to do something about those boring glasses first.”

  Dazai swiftly swipes the glasses off my face, then puts them on. They look awful on him.

  “Enough! Give those back!”

  So long as my work isn’t hindered, then nothing else matters. Besides, simply wearing nice glasses isn’t going to magically improve my life. And Dazai looks even more comical with them on… Even more ridiculous than usual for some odd reason.

  “……Glasses?”

  Glasses. The photos of the victims. Their faces. The monitoring equipment. The hotel they stayed in—

  “Something the matter, Kunikida?”

  The missing people all left the hotel of their own accord, and they all stayed in Yokohama alone. So that means the security footage of everyone entering and leaving the hotel is…

  “Come on, Dazai. We’re leaving.”

  I snatch my glasses and put them back on.

  “I figured out who the kidnapper is.”

  The ocean breeze soars past the Port of Yokohama. Dazai and I stand on the levee at the mouth by the shore. I gaze into the sky. The sun is already high, peeking through the sea of clouds and shining onto us. I do not feel as fine as the weather, however. A familiar taxi stops before me.

  “Detective Kunikida! Please get in.”

  A familiar cabdriver waves me over, and we waste no time climbing in.

  “I apologize for the sudden call.”

  “Oh, don’t be. I would go through fire and water for you and the agency, Detective! So are you in a hurry to get somewhere? Don’t you worry! The speed limit means nothing to me!”

  “It should. Anyway, do you remember the missing-persons case we spoke of last evening? Well, I figured out who the kidnapper is.”

  “What?! I saw the news about the abandoned hospital. I feel so sorry for those poor victims… So we’re going to arrest the kidnapper, yes? Roger that! We have to hurry, though, or he’ll get away. So where is this perpetrator?”

  “Right here.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re the kidnapper, and inside this taxi is where the kidnappings have been taking place.”

  “Uh… I don’t think I’m following you, Detective. What are you saying?”

  “I thought, ‘Who would be able to kidnap someone in this city without anyone noticing? Where in Yokohama would a victim be comfortable alone with a complete stranger?’ The answer is here. You used sleeping gas on the victims, then kidnapped them. While wearing a gas mask yourself, of course.”

  “Wait… No, no, no. Hold on. I’m pretty sure the investigation indicated that the victims all left of their own accord, by themselves, and mysteriously disappeared. I heard there were no records of them ever getting into any vehicle or going inside any building. If all the victims got into this taxi, then wouldn’t there be a record of a phone call or of them hailing a cab?”

  “Yes, there would be. And that’s why there is no doubt in my mind that every victim got into this taxi. Of course, the city police weren’t able to find any records no matter how hard they looked. Why? Because they were looking at the wrong date. The victims didn’t get in this taxi on the day they went missing.”

  “What… What are you trying to say?”

  “Okay, Kunikida, we’re not going to get anywhere trying to answer each and every one of his questions. Let me explain exactly what happened,” Dazai chimes in. “Driver, you were searching for certain customers during your daily work shift. The conditions for a target were simple: They had to be in Yokohama alone and heading to their hotel, they had to be wearing something that partially covered their face such as a hat, glasses, or sunglasses, and they had to be around the same height as you. You have a small frame, which is why women would be viable candidates as long as they met those few requirements. All of this would make it appear as if you had no relation to the victim, and you could disrupt the investigation.”

  “I… I’m afraid I don’t follow. I—”

  “Yes, yes. Let me finish first, okay? You’re a taxi driver who operates in the area. Those requirements may be strict, but you’d be able to find someone who matched them in two, three days tops. Then, when just the right person happened to show up, you used sleeping gas on them just like Kunikida mentioned. After that, you went to a secret hideout, held the victims prisoner there, and stole their clothes and belongings. That’s why the victims at the abandoned hospital were in their underwear. Now this is where you really begin to shine.” Dazai claps his hands giddily before continuing. “Next, you dressed in the victim’s clothing and disguised yourself as them. After that, it’s just as you told us last night. All you have to do is put on a little makeup, stuff your cheeks and clothing a bit, and you’re someone else. Of course, you must have religiously practiced and chosen only people you were confident you could pull off, though. Plus, you weren’t trying to deceive people, only video footage. You went to the hotel the victims planned to stay at and purposely made sure the security cameras saw you.”

  I think back to the footage I viewed during the investigation. In hindsight, there was an unnaturally high rate of people with their face covered—six in glasses and two in sunglasses. The remaining three had either a hat or long hair, leaving only a portion of their face exposed to the security cameras. This was possible only because he selected victims wearing specific clothing that would be easy to emulate.

  “The rest is simple. You leave the victims’ belongings in the hotel room and check out the next morning in broad daylight. By leaving a record of what appears to be the victim entering, checking in, and exiting the hotel, the police would stubbornly focus on investigating what happened to the victim after they left. Naturally, they didn’t find anything, though, since you undoubtedly know Yokohama inside and out. At the very least, you knew where you would be recorded and where you could escape to avoid any security cameras. That’s why the more we investigated, the more it appeared as if the victims intentionally spirited themselves away while making sure there would be no records of it.”

  “This is absurd. This hypothetical, purely speculative situation you’re proposing is—is nothing without…without evidence. That’s right—you’ve got no evidence to support your claim.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You would have been more than able to conduct Miss Sasaki’s kidnapping on your own as well,” I continue explaining from where Dazai left off. “Abducting Miss Sasaki after she passed out at the station must have been your easiest job yet. I’ll bet you felt like the luckiest man alive. People usually call an ambulance if they see somebody suddenly faint, but it takes time for the ambulances to arrive from the hospital. But there’s always a taxi waiting in front of the station for passengers, and luckily for Miss Sasaki, a Good Samaritan happened to be present to save her. This well-intentioned individual wanted to get her to the hospital as quickly as possible, so he decided to have a taxi take her. That’s when you took her away, bold as brass, except you didn’t take her to the hospital like you were supposed to.”

  “I…”

  The driver sounds as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t speak another word. I can’t see his expression clearly from where we’re sitting, either. I shift my gaze to the interior of the car, where I find a few small white particles in one of the crevices. I pinch what I can with my fingertips.

  “If you’re going to turn yourself in, you should probably do it quickly. It won’t be long until we have evidence. I’m sure you cleaned the inside of this car, but there’s still some residue from the gas. A lab analysis will confirm it in no time.”

  “I… I have no idea where that came from. It must have been from one of my customers. That doesn’t count as evidence.”

  The driver barely manages to stammer out the words. Nevertheless, he admitted his guilt th
e moment he started making excuses.

  “Evidence isn’t even necessary to prove you’re the only one who could have done it.” I begin to lay out the basis of the argument. “The only way to use the trick Dazai mentioned would be to get the victims into a taxi, and you had two of the victims in your vehicle, which is no different from admitting you gave rides to the other nine.”

  “That isn’t physical evidence, Detective Kunikida,” the driver plainly states while avoiding eye contact. “Everything you’ve presented has been circumstantial evidence. It’s not as if you found a weapon in my house or have video evidence of me committing a crime. Sure, you could file charges, but I wouldn’t be convicted.”

  It’s my turn to fall silent. He’s right. We would need physical evidence to connect him to the victims: blood, fingerprints, video recordings, a confession with information only the criminal would know…

  We don’t have the necessary hard evidence. In fact, our case could be dismissed due to a lack of probable cause as things stand now. From the way the driver’s talking, it sounds like he made sure to dispose of all the physical evidence. He’s cleverer than I thought. What’s my next move?

  But what he says next completely disproves my assumptions.

  “Detective Kunikida… Let’s make a deal. If you accept my conditions, I will turn myself in.”

  “What?”

  “I would like the Armed Detective Agency to protect me and guarantee my safety in return for my confession. I request only seventy-two hours of your time until I receive witness protection following the prosecutorial investigation.”

  “A witness protection deal? What are you talking about?”

  “There’s no time… I’m going to be killed. They’re going to kill me.”

  “Wait. I’m not following. Tell me step-by-step what’s going on. Who’s going to kill you? And for what?!”

  “I wish I never did business with that lot… I should have never tried to get into the organ-trafficking business alone! And now I’ve made them angry! This is bad… This is really bad. I can’t get in touch with any of the buyers, either. They’ve cut me loose! But why? They were never supposed to find out… But they’re already onto me. And they’re getting closer…”