In the cold early morning, the crow's eye witnessed the lanky figure of Mayama Tôru approaching from the distance. Mayama coughed heartily and spat on the pavement, exhaling clouds of white breath into the frigid air, then cleared his throat and looked at the sky, touching his fingertips to his forehead as though suffering from nausea. He stopped for a moment and looked quizically through heavy-lidded eyes when he noticed the crow, and reached out for it. The bird cried out for the last time and, after a short fluttering of wings, lay dead on the asphalt.

Inside a bus moving along the highway, Shibata Jun stood reading aloud from a book on passion that could have been a doctoral thesis or a low-grade novel. She paused to look up wistfully, and mused aloud to herself that only the most fascinating of women can find love, then continued, absorbed in the pages until she noticed the two high school students seated before her. The two boys sat with their textbooks spread before them, struggling with a probability equation that originated in some dusty nook of Tokyo University. Shibata leaned forward to press her curious face toward into the text, absorbed the equation like a sponge and immediately computed the solution. "The answer," she declared, standing up straight again, "is P=1/6, Q=1/5." She promptly raised her book to her face and resumed her own reading. The two students were astounded to find in the answer key that her solution was indeed correct.

In a darkened conference room deep in the bowels of the Keishichou, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters, a detective named Hayashida was stridently narrating the gory slides of a woman's corpse projected on the screen. "This is the victim of the murder seven years ago, Tanaka Michiko, aged thirty. In our current investigation, we find that all the slayings have the markings of this weapon in common..."

At that moment Shibata attempted to sneak into the dark room, inadvertendly letting a sharp sliver of light from the hallway cut into Hayashida's rambling. She attempted to be discreet, but the big shadow of her clumsy head got in the way of the projector. "Hey, what are you doing there!" Hayashida shouted, causing the entire investigation committee to turn the unified conglomerate of its cleanly-shorn heads toward the intruder.

"I'm sorry--" Shibata began. Nervously turning to move, her foot caught the floor switch and caused all the lights in the room to reveal her standing awkwardly and alone beside the projector. A stiff and dour-looking man rose from his seat and demanded her identity.

Shibata stood uncertainly with her hand gripping the strap of the tote bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm Shibata Jun," she began softly. "I have arrangements to join the First Investigation Department today--"

"Ah!" Hayashida cut in. "You're the rookie going to Second Chapter." The collective of minions turned their backs to the young pariah, and among them a man named Nagao called out offhandedly, "Second Chapter ain't the First Investigation Department. It's three floors down the basement, on the other end of the building."

"But," Shibata began to protest, "I thought Second Chapter was also the First Investigation Department..."

"Yeah, well, it's around ther somewhere. You'll figure it out someday," was all Hayashida would condescend to give her.

Shibata apologized again, bowed, and turned to leave the room. The dour-looking man called to her as she retreated. "You're the daughter of the late Councillor Shibata Junichiroh, who was killed in the disaster?"

Shibata Jun stopped timidly at the door and turned to face the man. "Yes, sir," she said, making a slight and hesitant bow.

"I'm Saotome of administration. We are much obliged to your father for the great works he did during his lifetime." He lowered his head, and all the rest of the investigation committee turned in unision to bow from their seats. An uncharacteristic smile broke on Saotome's face when he raised it again. "The best of luck to you!"

Shibata thanked him and bowed repeatedly as she excused herself, nearly banging her head on the door on her way out, and finally closing it after her. Saotome made an ironic comment about the absurdity of such material as young Shibata having come from Tokyo University to find such a career. He commanded them to laugh, and the committee's mocking laughter rose to a crescendo and filled the room as darkness again enveloped it, and the echo resounded against the projected image of Tanaka Michiko's battered, bloody head on the screen.

In Second Chapter, the office of unsolved cases, Nonomura Kôtarou waited eagerly on the sofa, rearranging paper cups and a dish of party mix on the coffee table before him. Taniguchi Tsuyoshi sat with the telephone receiver to his head at the cluster of desks in the center of the room beside Kondoh Akio, his eyes two magnified blurs behind the thick lenses of his glasses, busily typing at his computer while Taniguchi spoke. "Hello, excuse me for disturbing you..." Nonomura kept himself preoccupied with setting and resetting the cheap items on the coffee table. "She's late," he mumbled, reading ten to nine on the clock on the wall. "It's already twenty minutes into the work day..."

"This is Taniguchi of the Second Chapter of the First Investigation Department of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Once more, don't you recall the circumstances at that time? No, five years ago... No, no, it was solved five years ago..."

Under the billowy cloud of cigarette smoke behind Kondoh's computer was Mayama Tôru, staring nonchalantly into the book in front of him. Taniguchi's voice wavered on emphatically about the certainty of some evidence somewhere and some such, and Nonomura finally grew tired of pushing his paper cups about, and got up to stare toward the door in anticipation.

Downstairs, Shibata Jun was running through the hallways in search of that same office. She looked about restlessly, abruptly turned to head in the opposite direction, and collided violently with a young woman carrying a stack of binders. They both cried out as they toppled to the floor, investigation data from the binders fluttering out in disarray. "Jeez, what the hell is your problem," the woman barked in an Osaka drawl. She may have been younger than Shibata, but displayed a confidence and a woman's talent for grooming that Shibata did not possess. Dressed in a meticulous office suit and short skirt, her bare knees touched the floor as she knelt to gather the papers.

"S-sorry!" Shibata stammered.

"Stupid moron..." The young woman murmured as she contined to collect the paperwork. Shibata made to help, but instead became quite enthralled by the report of a kitchen-knife homicide among the scattered sheets. Her gaze flickered over the Chinese characters spelling out: dangerous weapon, corpse, victim, bloodstains, fingerprints, left-hand side. Shibata sat brooding with the paper, utterly captivated. "Eight fingerprints!"

"Hey you. Gimme that." The Osakan girl had gathered the lot, and now snatched the remaining paper from Shibata's hand. "What's with this kid," she wondered crossly.

Shibata stopped her as she began to stand, and inquired quickly, "Wait, what is Keizoku?" pointing to the characters stamped on the cover of the binder.

"It's where cases get sent after the primary investigation," replied the Osaka voice.

"So it's for unsolvable cases?" Shibata asked eagerly, slinging the bag strap over her arm as she took in the young woman's answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, but we have to say we're continuing. We have to keep working on the case until the arrest is made. That's how it is, so remember that." The young woman walked away, leaving Shibata to call out her thanks and bow deeply at her back. Returning to a vertical position, Shibata suddenly remembered the time, checked her Tokyo University wristwatch, and cried out in apprehension. She bounded through the halls to continue her fruitless search for Second Chapter's office.

Kido Aya's heels clicked on the floor as she strolled into that office, bearing the disheveled stack of binders she had collected upstairs after her collision. "Mo-orning," she drawled as she entered behind Assistant Section Chief Nonomura, who gave a nod and a grunt. "That party mix again?" Aya wondered hoarsely as she passed Nonomura's idiosyncratic offering of peanuts and pretzels. The Assistant Section Chief then sat watching the dish as if expecting to find the answer there, but the peanuts slowly disappeared into the faintly bovine mouth of Taniguchi across from him on the sofa. Nonomura stared across at his underling and finally asked point blank why he insisted on always consuming all the peanuts.

"Excuse me--!" came the voice of the young woman rushing into the office. "Good morning!" She bowed to the office, greeting the men.

"Inspector Shibata Jun, I presume," Nonomura beamed back.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I'm late." Shibata made haste to remove her scarf and overcoat.

"I'm Assistant Section Chief Nonomura," the aging man pronounced, introducing her to the other men. "She graduated from the elite of Tokyo University this spring, and is now joining the Metropolitan Police force."

"My name is Kondoh," said the diminutive, bespectacled man from his desk. Towering Taniguchi stood and introduced himself in a like manner, accentuating the already bizarre phsysical dissimilarity of the two men.

"Uh, I'm Mayama," said Mayama, lowering his head only slightly more than the cigarette raised in his hand. "How's it goin'."

"Pleased to meet you." Shibata bowed deeply. Just then Aya turned around the corner to stop in surprise at the sight of the clumsy young woman who had collided with her upstairs. "What the hell--?"

"Ah--" Shibata started in slack-jawed shock.

"Er, this is Kido Aya, of general affairs affiliated with the First Investigation Chapter," said Nonomura. Shibata rushed over to the young woman and thanked her for the information she'd provided some time ago, as Nonomura beckoned everyone to gather at the coffee table. Aya ambled over to Shibata's bowing figure, and smirked mockingly in her face. "Took you long enough to get here from the seventh floor. Do you, like, have any sense of direction?"

Nonomura poured cups of an orange-derived beverage and raised his own in a toast, as everyone took part in the obligatory gathering around the low table. "Well, here's to a short three-month training period. We look forward to working with you," was his unoriginal but heartfelt proclamation.

"Cheers!" everyone chorused, raising their cups and drinking. Mayama went straight back to the desk after draining his cup, and Nonomura and Taniguchi sat. No sooner had Nonomura made the offer for everyone to help themselves to the party mix than Taniguchi tossed a handful of pretzels into his mouth, drawing a disapproving gaze from Nonomura and an outright expression of disgust from Aya.

"Excuse me," said Shibata, catching Nonomura's attention. "What is it that I should be doing?"

"What Second Chapter's all about. Why don't you read the damn data?" Aya remarked.

"The data..."

"Well, what she means is that we have to dig deep, well, it's like digging up buried corpses," Nonomura explained. "In a word, basically, these cases were deemed unsolvable, and..."

"The continuation!" Shibata exclaimed with delight.

"Exactly! Well, at least in theory, we're continuing the work on these cases that none of the detectives above us have been able to solve..." He studied his jar of party mix and was about to offer some to Shibata, but she had already walked off to the insurmountable library shelves of countless casebooks and records. She was surrounded as far as she could see, and turned around in enchantment. "These are all unsolved cases... Amazing!"

Shibata had been immersing herself in the Keizoku library for a length of time when a female officer in uniform led a peculiar man in through the doorway. "Gentleman has arrived for a consult regarding the continuation of investigations." She turned to the peculiar man named Shimura, and invited him in. He looked about fearfully and with grave doubt on his rubbery, mask-like face as the others in the office stood to greet him. His thoughts were filled with flashbacks of the telephone conversation he had had in which the voice of his deceased acquaintance had asked him to repay an old loan.

"I'm sure of it!" he declared, his face twitching nervously. "That was Tada's voice, and he was murdered in Yokkaichi last April!"

Nonomura brooded, tapping his fingertips together, as Kondoh chewed his gum beside him, watching the client across from him through thick and heavy lenses. "Are you really sure about that?" Mayama called from behind the desk. "You must be mistaking the voice you heard on the phone."

"There's no mistake!" Shimura protested. "I spoke to Tada a million times when he was alive. It's no mistake at all!"

Taniguchi began to make an implication of extortion, but Aya stopped him. Kondoh asked, "First of all, had you repayed the loan?"

"Yes, I did!" said Shimura. "I paid the full amount back to his relatives!"

Shibata inquired after the data, and once Kondoh had found the case number in his electronic file, Shibata rushed off deep into the bookshelves to locate the casebook.

"I'm supposed to meet Tada tomorrow. I'm afraid to go alone. I wonder, couldn't somebody come with me?" Shimura winced. Everyone seated in the office was silent.

Shibata stepped out from behind the bookshelf with the open casebook in her hand, patting her chest and smiling eagerly. "I will go."

Shibata's face was buried in the casebook. She read softly aloud, her fingers rubbing her scalp and absently toying with her unkempt hair. "The incident took place on 21 January one year ago, the murdered party being one Tada Hiroichi, aged 37, who had traveled on business to Yokkaichi in Mie Prefecture on the evening of the incident..."

She mumbled, "Yokkaichi, Yokkaichi," pulling a worn atlas from her bag, locating the city among its pages. "Here it is, here it is... Is he from Yokkaichi?" she wondered. Looking at the photos of Mr. Tada in the investigation report, Shibata envisioned the Yokkaichi hotel at which the victim must have been staying, making telephone calls to several of his high school classmates. He had asked everyone to leave, as it was nearing one AM. Shibata examined the photo of the suspect, Ota Kôji, aged 40. He was Tada's superior at their company, and the only man found to have a motive in Tada's murder. Evidence indicated that Ota had returned to a bar in Roppongi on the evening of the incident, and Shibata envisioned a drunken Ota slurring profane oaths to kill Tada. According to the testimony of the bar's proprieter, Ota had had a grudge against his junior Tada, for an indictment the latter had made regarding Ota's illegal monetary dealings with clients in the bar. Ota had left the bar in Roppongi shortly before 1 AM, and at 8.15 AM Tada's body was found at the bottom of a building in the city of Yokkaichi. the victim had apparently sustained numerous stab wounds to the abdomen, after which he was thrown from the rooftop.

"The victim's face was completely destroyed, but through evidence such as his driver's license, combined with a perfect match between the victim's teeth and Tada's dental x-rays, it was concluded that this was indeed Tada Hiroichi. It is certain that Ota had a motive, but at this time his whereabouts remain unknown. Autopsy revealed that death must have occurred between one and two AM. Ota had returned to Roppongi just before one AM..." Shibata wondered at the travel time between there and the crime scene.

Kondoh read from his computer screen. "Travelling by bullet train, the distance between Roppongi and Yokkaichi is two hours and thirty minutes. The shortest highway route would require four hours and thirty minutes."

"There's the problem, right?" said Shibata. "How could he have gone from Roppongi to Yokkaichi in two hours?" Shibata gathered her hair to the top of her head, fondling it restlessly. "How is it possible..." she murmured to herself.

The squeaky little cartoon policeman popped up on Kondoh's computer screen, announcing that it was 5.15 PM and the work day was concluded. Kondoh stood and saluted, saying his goodbyes for the evening and adding the announcement that he would be attending a social dance on this day. Nonomura offered the standard closing remarks to his underlings, but Shibata continued to pore over the casebook, pen tucked behind her ear, oblivious to Nonomura's repeated "Time to go..."

As the evening wore on, Mayama hid behind a telephone pole in the shade of the shrubbery, watching a young man named Asakura leave his workplace. The tall and graceful young man greeted his girlfriend Maiko at the office door, where she stood waiting with two other women. They said their goodbyes and Asakura walked off with Maiko into the night, stopping to kiss her neck for a moment before moving his arm around her shoulder to gently guide her through the darkness. In his home, Mayama continued to watch Asakura, staring across the night through a telescope into the young man's apartment. Asakura closed the door after showing his girlfriend out, and sat in a chair facing the open window. Mayama leaned back and raised his cigarette to his lips, taking a deep drag as he gazed out the window. The only light in his apartment came from the lonely flourescent glow in the aquarium, in which the goldfish darted restlessly back and forth in their glass prison.

Despite the deepening of the night, Nonomura remained in the basement office. "Hi, it's me. We're almost finished," he told his wife on the telephone. "Oh, don't worry, of course I'm leaving now." Shibata remained kneeling before the mass of maps and data spread about the dim alcove, waving her arms slowly in front of her with eyes closed as if she was in a trance. "Well, let's go." He smiled as he rambled for a moment, comparing her enthusiasm to that of her late father, but his revery came to a halt when she opened her eyes. "Oh--what's wrong?" Nonomura started.

Shibata winced, unable to move. "My legs are asleep! It hurts!"

Shimura waited uneasily on the boardwalk, with his funny head sandwiched in a pair of big furry earmuffs. Now and then a tour group or some such passed through the area. Shibata and Mayama sat shivering at one of the tables, where the icy wind tossed their hair about their ruddy faces and runny noses. "Tada," said Shibata, "I wonder if he'll really come."

"Naah, he's not gonna come," Mayama grumbled. "He could he? He's dead. It's a pointless waste of time. Shit, why the hell did I have to come, anyway? The Chief's gotta be crazy."

"Oh. I'm sorry," said Shibata, wiping her nose. She suddenly jumped up and pushed her chair away behind her when she saw a man approach Shimura. She stared with expectant saucer eyes as the stranger neared to Shimura, who lifted an earmuff to hear him. Mayama narrowed his eyes, unable to see the man's face until at last he turned around to request that Shimura photograph him. The man made a peace sign for the camera as the shutter snapped, then bowed his thanks to Shimura.

As the light of the short winter day faded, Mayama watched the hours pass on his wristwatch. He stood to greet Shimura when he finally approached the table where the two detectives sat. "Listen, don't feel bad," Mayama smiled, less in genuine sympathy than relief that he no longer had to endure this pointless travesty.

"But--that voice, I'm sure it was Tada's."

Mayama wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Well, say, are you under a lotta stress? Could be an auditory hallucination. It's pretty common these days, after all." He smiled, "Sometimes I think I can hear the voices of the dead myself." He turned to Shibata where she sat with the tissue over her nose. "Let's go?"

Shibata replaced the tissue in her coat pocket. "Um, I'd like to look into the suspect Mr Ota's alibi once more..."

Mayama took a cigarette from his pack and stuck it between his teeth. "That's okay," he said as he flicked his lighter. "Look, if you're so into your career, just chill..." But when he looked up, Shibata was already walking away. "Hey!" he called out, hurrying to catch up with her, leaving a very unhappy-looking Shimura behind.

The two detectives stood before the rustic front door of Ota Keiko's home. Shibata read the woman's name from the report in her hand, adding that it had been the third time she had moved during the year. "Whatever," grumbled Mayama, startling Shibata with his unceremonious knocking on the door. "What?"

Inside the house, while Mrs Ota prepared tea, Shibata examined the books on her bookshelf. "Care for the aged," she read. "Do you know someone in fragile health?"

"No," intoned Mrs Ota, a frail and gloomy woman, as she poured green tea for the two detectives at her table. "I sometimes volunteer for hospice here in the neighborhood. It's my way of atoning for my husband's crime." She pushed the small cups across to her visitors.

"Oh, I see," said Shibata.

Mayama knelt beside Mrs Ota as she explained, "Since the time of the incident, things have been really...awful. I was getting prank calls until dawn. My neuroses began to become unbearable. I had to have my telephone removed."

"I'd guessed that," said Mayama. "But you never knew your husband had criminal motives?"

"I didn't have much communication with my husband."

"Your husband and the deceased Mr Tada were both employed at the same Yasoi Construction company, weren't they?" Shibata asked. "Did your husband have some sort of qualm against Mr Tada?"

"Yeah," said Mrs Ota, recalling the large sum of money her husband had received. "Mr Tada knew my husband well. My husband's wanton spending, how he borrowed money from clients... My husband didn't care for Mr Tada from the beginning. I think he felt it was perfectly alright to let his feelings show. And then, when someone placed an anonymous call to the company about my husband's dishonesty..."

"I understand," said Mayama, taking a quick sip of the tea and accidentally scalding his mouth. "Ah. Your husband felt he was betrayed by his junior. But, your husband's, well... Tada thought highly enough of your husband, right?"

"Why would Mr Tada betray your husband?" Shibata inquired, leaning forward and scooting closer to Mrs Ota. "The total amount was eight million. If Tada knew of the embezzlement, and yet they continued to pretend and carry on together, they were both committing the same offense. If that's the case, then why would Mr Tada have prosecuted? Did something happen between them?"

"Well, but..." began Mrs Ota. "Mr Tada was an honest man, and I think he couldn't permit my husband's dishonesty. To him, it was inexcusable..."

"Of course," said Shibata. "His sense of justice."

The room was silent for a moment, until Mayama broke in, "See, well, actually, there's a man who reported receiving a phone call from the deceased Mr Tada." Mrs Ota looked up in surprise, and Mayama asked her, "Do you know someone named Shimura?"

"No," she said.

"He was Mr Tada's old mah-jongg buddy. He'd borrowed some money before the murder, meaning to return it, and says he just got a pretty terrifying phone call..." Mayama chuckled dismissively before he and Shibata left Mrs Ota's home. The woman hesitated at the door. "If he gets a call like that again, will you please tell me? Whoever's doing it ought to be ashamed of himself."

"Mrs. Ota is a good person," said Shibata, as she and Mayama made their way through the twilight sidewalk traffic. "Whoever is responsible really should be ashamed."

"Yeah, really good person," said Mayama, looking at his watch in eagerness to be done with the day. "Well, it's about that time," he said, taking his leave.

Shibata tried to protest, but he brushed her off. "No, nothing else. I'm goin' home." Shibata piped up about the confirmation of the suspect's alibi, but was unable to detain Mayama any longer.

Shibata wandered around in that section of town for a number of hours. Having become utterly lost in the cold and strange city, and unable to obtain meaningful directions from passerby, she finally stopped in front of the bank to contact Kido Aya from her cell phone. Aya answered from the lamplit comfort of her bedroom. "Whatta you doing, kid?"

"Um... I was looking for a confirmation of the suspect's alibi, but we couldn't find any witnesses."

"Ah," said Aya. "The case about the phone call from the dead dude?"

"Yes," said Shibata.

"Where you at right now?"

"Um, I don't really know... I see a police box to my right."

"You idiot!" Aya tried unsuccessfully to get some further information from Shibata, but finally gave up. "Jeez, kid. Okay, okay. Look, I'll be right there, just don't go anywhere, ya got it?"

She eventually found Shibata in the shopping district, and the two of them directly approached a bar sign advertising half-naked beauties. "So, this is the Lingerie Pub," mused Aya. Shibata read the sign after her, and followed her inside. Shibata stared in mute amazement at the hostesses dressed in nothing but bras and panties serving drinks to casual businessmen packed into the small, womblike pub. Aya thumbed the buttons on her cell phone and looked over at Shibata. "What's up," she said, grabbing Shibata's sleeve and tugging her away. "C'mon, lets jet." Shibata apologized and looked back again as if reluctant to leave.

As she walked behind Aya out into the biting cold and onto the sidewalk, she murmured to herself about the lot of changes that had taken place in a year. "Oh, for real? Thaankyoou," Aya clucked on the phone. "Bye bye," she said, putting the phone away and annoucning, "I know where that bar owner is."

A surprised Shibata stepped up beside her to hear that Aya had found out from a friend at her old job in Roppongi.

"You used to work in Roppongi? Cool!"

"Man, I haven't talked to that guy in like five or six years..." Aya gave a sort of hint regarding her old line of work, and it suddenly dawned on Shibata that Aya had been a bar hostess. It was difficult enough for Shibata to grasp the image of Aya serving drinks in her underwear, but Aya wouldn't even bother to educate her on the basics of nightlife. A very inquisitve Shibata hurried to catch up, dragged along in Aya's footsteps.

The bar owner, when they found him, was standing on a street corner wielding a large sign and bundled in winter layers. His voice grew increasingly tearful as he defended himself, while Shibata just listened, acknowledging. "No, man, Ota's alibi is the truth! This is no joke, man! Ever since that happened you police just keep coming around over and over! I'm not the one who did it, you know! It's hard enough for a guy to make a living without this crap! Why the hell do ya hafta keep coming around?!"

"I can't believe he's lying," said Aya when she and Shibata on the bench waiting for the bus. "Ota was definitely in Roppongi at midnight. Dude, it's the perfect alibi."

"Is it perfect?" asked Shibata.

"Huh?" said Aya.

"The alibi. I think I've figured it out."

"Whattayou talking about?"

Shibata got up and announced with absolute certainty that she was going to Yokkaichi.

"You are so wierd," Aya muttered, then called out to her as she walked away. "Hey, wait up! How the hell do you expect to go to Yokkaichi now, huh?"

"Can't I?"

"Dah, whattaya think? For a trip like that on casework you gotta go to general affairs and get approval from the section chief, and then coordinate it with the police department on the other end!"

Shibata cried out in sudden realization of the obvious technicality. Aya wondered aloud if Shibata had actually graduated from Tokyo.

From a pedestrian bridge above, Mayama's hard eyes were on Asakura and Maiko drinking in the window of a restaurant below. The flash of a camera caught the side of Mayama's face, and he turned abruptly to see the reporter named Kee standing before him. "Mr. Mayama," said Kee, holding the camera with both hands, "Looks like you're doing what I think you're doing. I've got the proof here."

Mayama walked up to him, grabbed the camera, aimed it at his own face, and contorted his expression into a maniacally twisted grimace, snapped the shutter, and walked away.

Back in his own apartment, Mayama munched on some sweet old bun while squinting through his telescope into Asakura's apartment across the way. Mayama's shower ran and stopped, and a freshly scrubbed young woman clad in nothing but a towel stepped out of the bathroom chirping a very girlish "Thank you!"

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked, looking closely at Mayama's face, but he only told her to shut up. Unfazed, she switched on the remote control for the television and laughed like a child at the inane comedy that played upon the screen.

"Would you be quiet for a second," Mayama growled.

The prostitute apologized in a voice that suddenly belonged to a mature woman, and sat in silence at the chair by his side, letting the television babble and flicker. Mayama sat at the telescope for a moment longer before leaping up and nailing her with the pastry in an overflow of disproportionate irritation.

He seized the television and yanked it away from the wall, dropping it on the floor beside the aquarium. He scratched his head and ambled over to where the prostitute sat, while the lamp hanging from the cieling brushed his scalp. "Here," he said, smiling sarcastically and digging into his pants pocket, letting loose change and subway tokens scatter and roll on the floor. He shoved a fat, rumpled wad of bills at her. "Go away."

Under the blue sky of morning, in the back of the patrol car Shibata thumbed through the photos of Tada's bloody slaying, studying various angles of his demolished face and bloodstained business suit. It took her a moment to hear Mayama, slouched beside her and toying with a strand of his hair, repeating her name. "Shibata," he said. "Hey, Shibata."

Abruptly she broke from her rapture and turned toward him. "Yes!"

He beckoned her toward his forehead. "Check it out," he said, indicating his hairline, "Looks like it's thinning."

When she leaned forward for a closer look, Mayama began to smile. "I'm goin' bald. Male-pattern baldness." He began to guffaw. "Looks like you're gonna get the same thing!"

Shibata anxiously felt her own forehead under that thick and full mop of hair, unable to recognize the joke in spite of Mayama'a laughter. Just then the driver spoke, informing them that they had arrived at the building from which the body had been thrown.

On the rooftop, the two detectives had a panoramic view of the crime scene. "The suspect's footprints came from the northeast corner," Shibata said. "Mr Mayama, which way is northeast?" Mayama pointed and mumbled that his rookie partner had no damn sense of direction. "From the northeast, 2.75 metres. It's not enough," she continued. "It was 75 metres southward. Here, from here..." Mayama stood shivering in silence, watching her hold her tote bag and put her foot over the edge, attempting to climb onto the ledge and falling back with a short cry when she looked down. "What the hell?" said Mayama.

"I forgot how high it was!" Shibata breathed, attempting to regain her composure. She stood again and attempted to use her bag to simulate a cadaver, and spoke of the way in which the victim must have been thrown. "Being dropped like this wouldn't be enough to destroy the face," she said. "So what made the killer, after stabbing him, decide to carry him here and throw him over like this?"

"Do you," Mayama asked, mocking her with a grin, "Know what it's like to knife somebody? It ain't the same way you feel when you're cuttin' up tofu."

"So he stabbed him many times, right?" Shibata insisted, while Mayama shook his finger repeatedly in fervent agreement and gave her the thumbs up as she spoke. "He was afraid that his victim might revive, and stabbed him over and over again, with the nervous reaction described in medical textbooks."

"It'd be a nasty thing to have him revive after he was dropped from here," said Mayama, surveying the rooftop.

Shibata proffered her scarf to him, asking if he wouldn't mind holding it; she leaned at the ledge once more, pretending her bag was a corpse, while Mayama grudgingly held her weight back with the scarf around her neck while she continued her thoughts. "Like this, ah, like this... but, it seems he was awfully conscientious for someone so frightened."

"Why do you say that?"

Shibata was soon lying on her stomach on the pavement at the foot of the building, her dress and overcoat spread over the ground, wondering how the body could have fallen in order to smash the face. Mayama crouched beside her, lighting a cigaratte, as the two uniformed policemen who had driven them there looked on from behind. Shibata voiced a doubt as to whether it was actually Tada who was killed. Mayama insisted that the body's dental molds were Tada's, and that that was the single most reliable form of forensic evidence available. "Didn't you learn that in college?"

"The day Tada was killed," the bespectacled chef recalled in the Yokkaichi restaurant where he was interviewed. Shibata listened in earnest to his roundabout recollection as he babbled in a nasal voice one might associate with a pumpkin. "Exactly that day, well, so many people were calling. If I saw one person going for a drink alone, I couldn't be sure. Well, I was so busy with New Year's arrangements and so forth. I wouldn't remember any such thing as one person saying 'Let's go out for a drink' at midnight or some such."

Mayama sat stifling his laughter in the corner with his back to them. "But," the chef concluded, "Mr Tada was a man alone, and didn't go out with anybody."

Mayama was startled into seriousness and turned suddenly. "How come?"

"How's that for inside information," he mused when he and Shibata were back in the patrol car. "The guy was impotent. From the age of thirty on for the next seven years. Shit, if it was me I'd wanna die, too."

"But," Shibata protested, "To divorce a husband on the grounds of impotence, a wife would have to be just too coldhearted. If there is love between them, a thing like impotence wouldn't matter," she declared with wistful conviction.

Mayama smiled. "Listen," he began, coughing, "Between a man and a woman," he continued, clearing his throat, "It's all about the meat connection. Hm? Y'just wanna go at it. That there is love," he declared with a flippant leer.

Shibata turned in her seat to face him. "But, those transient things are bound to fade. Isn't there such a thing as pure love?"

The driver cleared his throat, making the odd pair in the back seat were suddenly aware of his presence. He excused himself.

"Even if it was all about pure love," Mayama went on, "If he didn't do anything to you, there wouldn't be much of a confirmation that he really loves you. Hm?"

Shibata gave a slow nod and grunted in reluctant assent.

Having returned to the basement office of the Second Chapter, Shibata stood hefore the whiteboard decorated with photos of the suspect and alleged victim and diagrams to illustrate her findings, and she made her presentation. "On the evening of the incident, the victim, Mr Tada, makes an invitation on the telephone. 'I'm in a hotel in Yokkaichi. Come have a drink with me.' The time is one AM. Those were not people with whom he was intimate. Perhaps it wasn't his intention to have them come at all. Then, why would Mr Tada have made a telephone call on that pretense?"

Taniguchi stood with folded arms and spoke in a low voice. "That day, Tada wasn't in Yokkaichi..."

"Right!" said Shibata, extending her arm emphatically. "The victim Mr Tada was not really in Yokkaichi on the night of the incident, he was in Tokyo. With regard to the suspect Mr Ota, well, perhaps there is a bit of misinformation with respect to the victim. In the general investigation, the suspect's alibi was doubted, but the victim's alibi was never questioned. Another possibility was perhaps overlooked by the investigation party at that time--so I believe," she added, patting her chest.

"But why?" asked Kondoh from just beyond Shibata's shoulder.

Shibata took a breath and waved her hand to indicate the board. "Actually, couldn't the victim Mr Tada have been trying to kill Mr Ota? For the betrayal of Mr Ota's acceptance of bribes, the consequences for Mr Tada could have been quite severe within the context of the company. In short, the victim Mr Tada would have had something of a motive to kill Mr Ota."

Nonomura extended his arm from behind the little potted plants and teapot that decorated his desk. "Having traveled to Yokkaichi on business, Tada returned to Tokyo with intent to kill Ota, having created a false alibi by phone of his presence in Yokkaichi. And when it had come to the act, the reverse occured and Ota ended up by stabbing Tada to death. Then, fearing for the discovery of the corpse in Tokyo, Ota brought it to Yokkaichi for disposal there."

"Yes," said Shibata.

"Basically," Kondoh continued eagerly, "With Ota in Tokyo at just before one AM, he would have had to explain how Tada had been killed."

Nonomura rose from his seat. "Under those circumstances, Ota's alibi would fall apart."

"Yeah, great, but how do we catch the offender?" Mayama inquired dubiously.

"Well, nonetheless I'd say we're making quite a bit of progress. I ought to telephone the section chief at once," Nonomura declared happily.

But just then the phone rang. It was Shimura, calling to inform them that he'd received another call from Tada.

This time Ota Keiko sat between Shibata and Mayama to help stare at Shimura in anticipation, as he stood on the boardwalk staring back in suspense and fear. Someone was watching them through binoculars. Mrs Ota furtively stuck a small piece of paper to the inside of the armrest of her chair, and Mayama tacitly let her believe that her attempt at concealment had been successful. After a long time, he stood. "We just can't seem to bring back the dead," he said, bowing. "Sorry, Mrs Ota, to waste your time like this." He motioned to Shibata that it was time to leave, and Shimura staggered over to the table looking very tired. "I still haven't had any sleep," he explained, wincing. "I keep having these nightmares about drinking with him just a week before he was killed..."

Shibata scooted close to him with peculiar intrigue. "Drinking--a week before he was killed?"

Mrs Ota blinked, and Mayama shook his finger at Shibata. "For chrissakes, what is it now?"

"Where was it?" Shibata asked. "What time?"

"Well... about eight, I guess... in Akasaka," Shimura offered.

"One week before Tada was killed," said Shibata, "That would make it 14 January."

"So what?" said Mayama.

Shibata took the tattered sheets of data from her bag. "That day, from 5.00 to 5.45," she asserted, examining the papers, "Mr Tada was having his lower right molar extracted at Yamabuki Dentistry. Look. Here." As Shimura peered into the data, Mayama shot a sharp glance at Mrs Ota. "His lips, after anesthesia--mind holding this," Shibata entreated, handing the papers to Mayama. She produced her thermos and filled the cup, filled her mouth and slurred, "Like this," as she let the liquid flow sloppily down her chin and onto the ground, earning her an irritable rebuke from Mayama.

"So did he drink?" she asked Shimura.

"He did," Shimura admitted.

"Just like normal?"

"It seemed that way," said Shimura. "Controlling it well, I guess?"

"Yeah, controlling it well," said Mayama, soliciting for agreement in Mrs Ota's direction. She looked surprised, but Mayama only turned back to Shibata and said, "Let's go. C'mon. Let's go."

"Inspector Mayama, I would like to go to Dr Yamabuki's office," she said.

"Miss Shibata," said Mayama ironically, "I would like to go to the john. Would that be okay with you?"

Shibata gathered her things, and Mayama uttered a casual farwell and began to trot off before turning around to reach across Shimura's chest and hand back the data to Shibata, who then walked off in the other direction, leaving Shimura and Mrs Ota standing dumbly by themselves.

Dr Yamabuki was a small man with a round and honest face. He listened to Shibata's questions across the counter, and was surprised that research on the homicide of Tada Hiroichi was still continuing. "Yeah," said Mayama, "We just came across a complication in the modus operandi."

"I wonder," said Shibata, reading the clinical records in her hands, "Is there really no mistake."

"Under his lower right molar," the dentist recalled, indicating his jaw, "An impacted wisdom tooth sprung up unexpectedly. I have a vivid recollection of it."

Mayama bowed, thanking the dentist for his help and allowing him to go about his business, while Shibata buried herself in the x-ray charts. After a moment, she noticed the number 1065 in the upper right corner of Tada's record, and inquired after the meaning of it. "Ah," said Dr Yamabuki, leaned over his computer screen, "That's our method of classifying patients according to their order number."

"Oh, I see," Shibata murmured, letting her hair fall over her face as she stared into the charts, looking down at the data in her hands as she approached Mayama where he stood facing the wall. "I know who the culprit is," she announced quietly. "What should we do?"

By Ota Keiko's watch, it was nearly one when Shibata finally arrived. Mrs Ota had been warming her ears in her palms and sighing faint white clouds of breath when she became aware of the shadow of the young detective nearby. "I'm sorry for asking you here like this," said Shibata.

Mrs Ota expressed that she would have to leave by two, and Shibata moved forward to explain, "Ah, oh, no, it's almost over. Actually, the fact is, we've discovered the identity of the perpetrator in the murder of your husband."

Mrs Ota looked confused, and asked slowly, "Not the one who killed Mr Tada?"

"No," said Shibata. "Mr Tada was not the one who was killed. It was your husband, Ota Kôji."

"I don't follow you," said Mrs Ota at length.

Shibata rummaged through her bag to produce the dental records that bore Tada Hiroichi's name. "Here," she said, indicating the number 1065 on the corner. "These are dental records from your husband. But look closely. Here, the patient to whom this file belongs has a name beginning with O. Strange isn't it?" Mrs Ota started as Shibata continued, "To create a file for Tada, the characters for 'Ota' could be read as 'Tada'."

Mrs Ota refrained from speaking, or else was unable to do so.

"You accompanied your husband to the dentist's office. Because they don't see many adult patients, the receptionist remembered you well. You handed in the insurance card for your husband. However, it wasn't Mr Ota's insurance card. By writing in the furigana characters for 'Ota,' you were able to turn in Mr Tada's insurance card. Naturally, the receptionist called him in for his appointment using the pronunciation 'Ota.' Knowing nothing, your husband underwent his own treatment. All that remained after Mr Ota's treatment was a medical record bearing Mr Tada's name. That was your technique for substituting the body."

Mrs Ota turned her face away in discomfort.

"It was you and Mr Tada who killed Mr Ota, wasn't it?" The seagulls called and flapped their wings nearby as Shibata stood facing Mrs Ota. "Why did you kill your husband?"

Mrs Ota would not answer, and turned toward the ocean. Shibata continued, "Wasn't it because... you and Mr Tada were in love, weren't you? You could never have peace in your husband's presence. In Mr Ota's arrogance, he used violence against you." Shibata grew inappropriately excited by her own imaginings. "Mr Tada felt sympathy for you, and a love grew between you. Mr Tada was sexually incompetent, wasn't he? But you fell in love without regard for that. Isn't that what pure love is! You went so far as to commit murder for pure love?"

"That's enough of your imagination!" Mrs Ota snapped, shuddering. "I'm not the murderer!"

"No, but--" Shibata began, but was interrupted by Mayama's voice in the distance. "Shibata!" he called. "Cut the bullshit. You can ask Tada yourself pretty soon." He turned to Mrs Ota. "Ah, he'll be along pretty soon."

Mrs Ota recoiled. "What are you saying?!"

"That day, you knew he was watching from somewhere and could see you, so you left him a note," Mayama explained, referring to the small paper she had slipped into the armrest, which he had snuck back to retrieve when she was gone. "We found that note, where you wrote the time and place you and Tada would meet. Three o'clock this afternoon at the Kaminarimon. So I rewrote the note. One o'clock this afternoon. The place would be here. He oughtta be around here, for sure. Someplace where he can see us pretty well..."

Mrs Ota looked about in anxiety, turning to run toward the shore and looking desperately every which way, until she made the awful discovery of the solitary figure of Tada Hiroichi looking down at them through binoculars from the high pier across the water. She cried out to him at the top of her lungs to run, run away. Tada slowly lowered his binoculars in realization, and was about to run when he saw Taniguchi and Kondoh racing toward him from either direction. Tada took a desperate look over the edge at the ocean far below, and screamed as he plunged headlong into the icy waters.

Shibata cried out, watching the splash through her opera glasses. Taniguchi and Kondoh had reached the top of the pier and began to scramble for the exit. Mayama pounded his feet on the sidewalk in a race toward the water, with Shibata and Mrs Ota running behind him. "Shibata!" he screamed. "Call an ambulance!"

Taniguchi and Kondoh grimaced as they leapt over the obstacles that separated them from the shoreline. From the other direction, Mayama tore over the bridge to meet them, while Tada's head and shoulders bobbed frantically in the water. When he struggled onto the semi-frozen mud, five people were racing together toward him. He was lying on his back when Taniguchi and Mayama each grabbed an arm to drag him onto the rocky shore. "Feel him!" Mayama shouted. "He mighta ruptured internal organs!"

Kondoh and Mrs Ota reached the water's edge to find Tada gasping up dumbfounded from the gravel. Shibata crawled over to him on all fours to ask a desperate question. "You loved Keiko, didn't you? There's certain proof of that... So... that's why you killed Mr Ota, isn't it?" Shibata envisioned Tada on Mrs Ota's bed, hugging her from behind, apologizing. She imagined the two of them on the sidewalk as Tada entrusted her with his insurance card, asking her to keep it a secret, telling her they would soon have peace. She imagined an enraged Ota Kôji meeting Tada at the latter's request, suddenly halted by the knife plunged into his gut. Tada thrust the knife in again and again, then drove the corpse to a building from whose roof he would have cast it over.

Tada trembled as his lips began turning blue. "It was me the whole time. It wasn't... Keiko's... fault..."

Mrs Ota watched in silence as Tada's eyes slowly closed, and the twitching of his head came to an end.

Mayama looked at his watch as Taniguchi and Kondoh waited beside him. Mrs Ota's face burst into tears and her jaw opened and closed, unable to gulp air into her lungs. She sank to her haunches, struggling to catch her breath.

Mayama grabbed her by the lapels of her overcoat and raised her to her feet, pinning her to the stone wall. "You used Tada to kill your husband." The waves crashed on the shore, spraying them with a fine mist. "So don't you fucking cry! You fucking murderer!"

Tanguchi and Kondoh pulled him away as he flailed madly. Shibata looked on silently until Hayashida's voice came rushing toward the beach, followed by Saotome, Nagao, and several other men in beige trenchcoats who might have witnessed Shibata's initial clumsy entrance into the conference room on her first day. "Tada Hiroichi's been found. Why the hell weren't we informed!" Hayashida demanded. "We need to arrest the murder suspect."

"Not necessary," Mayama uttered flatly.

"What?"

"He's dead."

Hayashida blinked, and inclined his face to where one officer was presently examining Tada's lifeless body on the ground, with all the others surrounding. Saotome took a few steps onto the gravelly shore. "That's a problem. You'll never hear the end of this. You let the suspect die!" Taniguchi and Mayama both looked down in shame, and Saotome noticed Mrs Ota. "Who is this? An accomplice?"

Taniguchi suddenly saluted, spared from complete failure. "Yes sir!"

Saotome looked pleased and courteously asked Hayashida to do the honours. Hayashida clapped his hands together once and called out, "Right! Let's go!" as he and Nagao each took one of Mrs Ota's arms, leading her away.

Shibata let them get over the hill, and ran up it as the party made its way across the field. "Please, wait!" she called, and the group of police turned to face her. "You loved him, didn't you? Mr Tada. You didn't use him... You loved him, didn't you? Please. Please answer," Shibata begged, nearly in tears.

Ota Keiko turned slowly and looked Shibata in the eyes. She stood for a moment and blinked, perhaps moving her lips into what might have been a smile, but made no reply.