Malice: A Mystery

  I think he felt like he’d gotten a bad deal because his father had to move there for work. He used to tell me he was only there temporarily, which is why he didn’t really know anyone in the neighborhood and didn’t play with any of the kids there. Of course, I didn’t care about any of it. It was him telling me all this. Like he was making excuses for something. Besides, he didn’t move away after all, at least not when I knew him.

  There was another thing, too.… I think at one point he tried to switch elementary schools, but it didn’t work out for some reason. He told me they wouldn’t let him switch because he was going to school every day. He thought that was pretty ironic, “suffering through that hell day in and day out, and then getting punished for it.” He said there was this kid, one of his neighbors, who used to come and pick him up every morning to walk to school together, which he couldn’t stand. Like it was all some big neighborhood conspiracy to drag him down, right?

  I remember thinking, I wish someone would come over and get me to go to school every morning! Talk about nice. But Nonoguchi was always Nonoguchi.

  Was Hidaka the boy that walked to school with him?

  He never said. In fact, he never mentioned Kunihiko Hidaka at all. This whole thing in the news was the first time I ever heard about him.

  On Hidaka’s novels:

  Actually, I hadn’t read any of them. I do read, but mostly mysteries. Light stuff, like those travel mysteries where they’re going off someplace and somebody gets killed, you know those? I tend to stay away from the backbreaking stuff. If you have to work to get through a book, it’s not very relaxing, is it?

  Anyway, when I heard about the murder, I did pick one of them up. Sent chills down my spine to think that Nonoguchi was the author.

  Which book?

  Sea Ghost. The one about the artist whose wife cheats on him? It made sense in a lot of ways.

  How so?

  I mean, you could tell Nonoguchi wrote it. It just felt like him, you know? It was like his personality was stamped on every page. That stuff doesn’t change from when you’re a kid.

  Actually, Hidaka wrote Sea Ghost.

  What, really? Shows you how much I know! Guess I’d better stick with the light stuff. (Laughs)

  Sorry, I’ve got to get to that meeting.

  Interview: Yasushi Fujimura

  Yes, I’m Osamu’s uncle. Osamu’s mother was my sister.

  And as for our request for the profits from those books, it’s not like we’re just mindlessly clamoring for money. Frankly that’s insulting. We just think things should be put right, that the air needs to be cleared. That’s all we’re saying.

  But Osamu did murder Mr. Hidaka.

  Of course, and he should be punished for it. He needs to pay his debt to society, and I think that was Osamu’s intention when he confessed.

  That only makes it more important that everything’s on the table, you understand. It was a terrible thing he did, certainly, but he didn’t do it without reason. It’s important to think about his relationship with Mr. Hidaka, isn’t it? This ghostwriter thing—he was writing those novels for Mr. Hidaka until the day he just couldn’t take it anymore. That’s what everyone—all the authorities—are saying.

  In other words, some blame rests at the feet of Mr. Hidaka. It’s not just Osamu who’s in the wrong here. Why should Osamu be the only one punished? What about Mr. Hidaka’s part in all this?

  I don’t know much about the literary market, but I hear that Kunihiko Hidaka’s novels sold quite well. He was one of the top-ten highest earners, I hear. But who really earned that money? Wasn’t he selling novels Osamu had written? Does it make sense for only Osamu to be punished, while the money he earned remains in someone else’s hands? I don’t think it does. If it were me, I would return that money. It’s only fair.

  I’m not sure the bereaved family agrees.

  Oh, I’m sure they don’t. That’s why we’re bringing in lawyers to get everything straight. I’m just trying to help Osamu out here. I don’t want the money. It wouldn’t be my money, anyway. It would go to Osamu.

  But isn’t this a matter for civil court, Detective?

  Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your sister, and the neighborhood where her family lived.

  Oh … so you didn’t come here about the royalties? Right, well, my sister moved to that area shortly after Osamu was born. Built herself a house. Her husband’s relatives sold them some land cheap, which is why they ended up in that particular spot.

  Did she like it there?

  Not much, no. She told me once that, had she known what sort of place it was beforehand, she never would’ve built there.

  What didn’t she like about it, specifically?

  That, I’m not sure. I sort of avoided the subject. Speaking of which, why do you ask, Detective? Does this really have anything to do with the case? I understand you have a job to do, but worrying about my sister’s choice of neighborhoods seems like stretching it a bit far!

  Not that we have anything to hide.

  Interview: Akio Nakatsuka

  Nonoguchi? I’ve never heard of any Nonoguchi.

  He was your classmate in middle school.

  Really? Okay, like I’d remember that.

  On the murder:

  Sorry, haven’t picked up a paper in a while. And I don’t know anything about any authors.

  He was your classmate, too.

  Well, whaddya know. So, Detective, what’s this have to do with me? I’m between jobs right now, and I kind of have to get down to the employment center, so I don’t have a lot of time.

  Do you remember anyone named Hidaka?

  What? Yeah, I remember a Hidaka. He’s the one who got offed? No kidding. Guess you never know how someone’s going to check out till it happens.

  So how’s asking about his school going to help your investigation? Didn’t you just say you already know who killed him? What’s left to find out?

  We’re just making sure we have all the facts.

  Things must be pretty quiet for you to be checking things after the murder’s already solved!

  On bullying:

  Oh, c’mon. You don’t think I—

  Fine, yeah, I knocked Hidaka around a couple of times. Never for any particular reason. Just keeping him in his place, you know.

  But that Hidaka, he was one tough cookie. I don’t think we ever got money out of him. Most of those kids, you put the fear into them and they’ll give you a thousand, two thousand yen just like that. So, yeah, we paid Hidaka special attention. Looking back at it, the kid had guts. Course at the time it just pissed us off.

  On Nonoguchi:

  Look, man, I told you I don’t know any Nonoguchi … wait, unless you mean the Gooch? Yeah, that’s right, his name was Nonoguchi, wasn’t it. I remember him. He was Fujio’s moneybags.

  You know, the thing you carry money in? Whenever Fujio needed some cash, the Gooch was good for it. And he had him running errands all the time. Man, what a wimp that guy was.

  Do you know what happened after Fujio left your school?

  No, we all split up after that. I didn’t see the Gooch very much after that either.

  On the assault:

  Yeah, I heard about it, that girl from the Catholic school, right? But I don’t know much. That’s the truth. Me and Fujio were close, but he never told me stuff like that. And I hardly ever saw him after he left. They had him grounded for months.

  You weren’t with him at the assault?

  No way, man. I heard someone was there, but it sure wasn’t me. What does all this old crap have to do with your case, anyway?

  Look, I can tell you one thing. You said that Hidaka guy was the one who got killed, right? I might not have seen Fujio after he left, but I did see him—Hidaka—once, just about three or four years ago. He came over to my place, said he wanted to know about Fujio and the assault.

  He told me he was writing a novel about Fujio. Can you believe it? I didn’t take him too seriously, s
o I didn’t think much about it. I guess if it became this big seller, I shoulda asked for more money! (Laughs)

  What did you tell him?

  Just what I knew. He didn’t seem like he held anything against me in particular, so what’s the harm?

  What exactly did you know?

  Hardly anything. But he was persistent, wanted to know if I remembered any detail at all. Turns out he thought I was the one with Fujio, too.

  On the photograph:

  I don’t know anything about a photograph.

  I heard you might have it.

  Who would say something like that? That’s crazy.

  Okay, okay … maybe Fujio did give me one, just before they got him. It was blurry as hell.

  You kept it?

  Yeah, what’s the harm in that? Doesn’t mean I did anything. It’s not like I was holding on to it special or anything, either. I just forgot to throw it out. I bet if I searched your house, I’d find a few photos from when you were a kid, Detective.

  Do you still have the photo?

  No way. I threw it out a little while after Hidaka visited.

  Did you show it to him?

  Yeah, I showed it to him. I figured I owed him that much at least, what with our past, and him coming all the way out to see me. He wanted to borrow it, so I let him have it for a while. He sent it back a few days later in an envelope, though, with a note about him not believing in saving photographs or something. I just threw the thing in the trash, envelope and all.

  Did you see Hidaka after that?

  Nope.

  Were there any other photographs?

  Just the one. I don’t know if Fujio even took any more photos than the one.

  We done here?

  Interview: Heikichi Tsujimura

  Note: For this interview, I spoke with Mr. Tsujimura’s granddaughter, who acted as his interpreter, since Mr. Tsujimura has difficulty speaking clearly.

  How old is your grandfather?

  Um, ninety-one, I think. His heart’s strong, but he can’t walk around anymore. Still sharp as a tack though, if a little hard of hearing.

  When did he retire?

  He stopped making fireworks about fifteen years ago. It was less his age and more a problem of supply and demand. They stopped doing fireworks shows down by the river so work got really slow. We think it was probably good timing, though. And since my father wasn’t in the business, we didn’t feel there was any need to keep it going.

  Have you seen this book?

  An Unburning Flame? Oh, it’s by Kunihiko Hidaka! No, I hadn’t heard of it. I don’t think anyone in my family’s read it.

  Could you ask your grandfather?

  I’ll try, though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

  … No, he’s never heard of it either. He hasn’t read a book in years. What about it?

  It’s based on your grandfather’s work.

  Really? It’s about a fireworks maker?

  … Grandpa says that’s a strange thing to write a book about. Not many people know much about his line of work, he says.

  On Hidaka’s visits:

  Really? Well, Grandpa used to have his workshop right next to the shrine in town. So Mr. Hidaka saw my grandfather work when he was a kid and wrote his novel about it?

  … Grandpa says some of the neighborhood kids would come and play nearby sometimes. He tried to keep them away because it was dangerous, but some of them were persistent so he let them inside once or twice.

  Were there many of these kids?

  … Actually not that many, he says. He just remembers one.

  Does he remember a name?

  … Sorry, no. He says he didn’t forget it, he never knew it in the first place.

  Would he recognize the boy from a picture?

  I’m not sure … it was a long time ago. I’ll ask him, though.

  … Okay, well, he says he remembers what the boy looked like. Do you have a photograph with you? Okay, let’s show it to him.

  … He says the boy he remembers was smaller than any of these kids. What is this? A middle-school yearbook? So the boy is one of the ones in this group here? But wouldn’t he have been younger than this when he visited the workshop? Right, that’s what I thought. Okay, well, I’ll try to explain it to him.…

  8

  THE PAST (PART THREE)

  KYOICHIRO KAGA’S STORY

  I believe I’ve met with everyone I can who has anything notable to contribute about Osamu Nonoguchi’s and Kunihiko Hidaka’s past, particularly their time in middle school. I’m sure there are others I haven’t been able to track down, but I feel I’ve obtained all I need for now. Though the evidence and testimony add up to something like a box of unassembled jigsaw-puzzle pieces at the moment, I do have at least an idea of the completed picture in my mind, a picture that I believe reveals the full truth behind this case.

  At the heart of everything is the bullying that took place during Nonoguchi’s and Hidaka’s middle school years, and which defined their future relationship. Once I realized the significance of those events, several other parts of the story fell into place. I’m now convinced that it is impossible to understand what happened on the day Hidaka died without first understanding this troubled history.

  * * *

  I know something about bullying, though not firsthand (as either victim or aggressor—at least, not so far as I’m aware). My experience is secondhand. Over ten years ago, I was a homeroom teacher at a middle school, in charge of a class of ninth-graders.

  Toward the end of the first semester the first signs appeared. The semester-end exams provided the first clue: according to an English instructor, five of the students from homeroom had given the exact same incorrect answer to a problem.

  I knew the English teacher to be a thoughtful man who kept a clear head. Indeed, he didn’t seem upset or angry in the least when he came to me.

  “It’s almost certainly cheating. They were all sitting together in the back of the classroom when they took the test. I can talk to them myself, but I thought I should let you know first.”

  After considering it for a while, I asked if he was willing to let me handle it. If there was cheating going on, it probably wasn’t limited to English class.

  “Act quickly,” he advised. “Let them get away with it once and there will be more students involved when it happens next time.”

  I took his warning to heart.

  I went to the teachers who had these students for other subjects and asked if there had been anything suspicious in the exam answers they’d received. I also reviewed the tests I’d given them in the subjects I taught: social studies and geography.

  Despite some similarities in the five students’ answers, I could find no clear evidence of cheating in composition, science, or my subjects.

  The science teacher’s opinion:

  “They’re not idiots. They wouldn’t do anything too obvious. Kids can be crafty when they put their minds to it.”

  Yet their craftiness failed them when it came to math.

  The mathematics teacher:

  “A student who doesn’t get math in their first or second year won’t suddenly start getting it in their third. I generally know before they take a test which students are going to be able to answer which questions. For example, I know that the final proof on the latest test is beyond Yamaoka’s abilities. But look at his answer: ‘A D E F.’ The correct answer was actually ‘Δ D E F.’ It’s obvious that he looked at someone else’s paper and mistook their delta for an A.”

  It was the sort of elegantly convincing argument you’d expect from a mathematician.

  Clearly, I had no reason to be optimistic about the situation, but I had to consider my response. School policy was not to punish students for cheating unless a teacher actually caught them in the act. Yet we had a responsibility to let the students know that we’d noticed what was going on. In other words, to give them a warning. So one day after class, I told the students involved to remain beh
ind.

  I told them that they were suspected of cheating, then revealed the reason for our suspicion—that they had all made the exact same mistake on their English exam.

  “Well, do any of you have anything to say?” I asked.

  No one responded. I singled out Yamaoka and asked again.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t cheat.”

  I then asked each of the other students in turn, and all of them denied cheating.

  Lacking proof, I couldn’t do much more. But they were obviously lying.

  All five students looked downcast the whole time I was talking to them, but one in particular, Maeno, was red around his eyes by the time I’d finished. Knowing the students and their previous performances, I was pretty sure that his test had been the source for everyone else’s answers. School rules dictated that the one who let his test be copied was just as culpable as those who copied from it.

  That night, I received a call from Maeno’s mother. She said her son was acting strangely and wondered if anything had happened at school. I told her about the cheating incident, and I could hear her gasp at the other end of the line.

  “I suspect your son was the one who showed the others his answers, which unfortunately still counts as cheating. However, because we lack proof of cheating, there won’t be any punishment this time. I just gave all five of them a warning. Did your son seem shocked?”

  “He came home with his clothes all muddy,” she said with tears in her voice. “And now he’s locked himself in his room and won’t come out. However, I caught a glimpse of his face and it was all swollen, Mr. Kaga. I think he was injured and he might have been bleeding.”

  The following day, Maeno was out sick. When he came in the day after, he had an eye patch over one eye. The bruises and swelling made it clear someone had beaten him up. I had an idea who.

  At this point I finally understood that Maeno wasn’t a friend of the students who’d cheated off his test. They’d coerced him into giving them his answers on the test, then pummeled him as punishment for making a mistake that gave them away. At the time, I didn’t know whether the bullying had started before the cheating or not.