A Young Lady Vanishes

"I don't know where you're from, but you seem to be making some exceedingly strange accusations." After answering Monzō's questions for some time, the priest finally lost his temper.

"I wonder if you didn't dream all of this nonsense about a dwarf carrying a human arm. If I say I don't know, I don't know. As you can see this is a small temple, and there's no place here where a person could hide. If you have doubts, feel free to search the house. Ask the people of the neighborhood as well. Ask them whether such a cripple resides in this temple."

"I didn't mean to doubt you at all." Monzō became flustered again. "I saw a suspicious man sneak in here last night, so I wanted to warn you to be careful. But it's strange. I certainly did see him."

"If you saw him, then you saw him, but I'm a little busy just now, so . . ."

The priest frowned, stopping just short of saying that he had no time to take heed of a madman.

"I'm very sorry to have inconvenienced you."

Monzō reluctantly stood up. He went out of the gate practically in a daze.

There must be something wrong with me. How mad my visit must have seemed. It's only natural the priest ridiculed me. But by his tone, he doesn't seem to have anything to hide. No matter how hard I try, I can't make sense of it.

He loitered absentmindedly before the gate for some time. Then, suddenly struck by an idea, he went over to the storefront of the small-time candy shop where the old woman was dozing.

"I'll take those rice crackers for fifty sen there." He feigned an innocent inquiry after merchandise for which he had no desire. "By the way, would you happen to know if there's a very short person around here? Like a Lilliputian, that sort of cripple."

"I've lived in this area for many years, but I've never seen anyone like that or even heard a rumor of one," the old woman answered suspiciously.

"Aside from the head priest, what sort of people live in the temple in front of this shop?"

"Oh, Yōgen Temple, you mean? That's a queer temple: the head priest lives there all by himself. There was a young priest with him until just recently, but he was discharged or something, and I haven't seen him since. The head priest is quite an odd gentleman. My husband sometimes offers his services to the temple, so I know all about it."

The old woman seemed to be a gossip and continued to speak loquaciously. But there was nothing of any particular benefit to Monzō. He brought the conversation to a perfunctory conclusion and walked off toward the railway encumbered by the bag of rice crackers. Along the way, he dropped into liquor shops, rickshaw stands and the like and made the same inquiry, but no one knew of the dwarf. He felt stranger and stranger.

Even after boarding the train at Kaminari Gate, he was oddly absentminded. He felt as if a thin curtain was hanging over his head.

"My goodness, if it isn't Mr. Kobayashi!"

When the train passed Ueno Yamashita, someone standing in front of him called out a greeting. Sunk in a reverie, Monzō was so startled by the soft voice that he jumped. He felt as if he had been caught doing something bad. He turned bright red even before identifying his interlocutor.

"It looks like you were lost in thought."

To his surprise, Mrs. Yamano stood there laughing.

"Where are you going?" She inquired, tilting her head in her habitual manner.

Monzō was completely taken aback at the sight of the wife of the businessman Yamano Daigorō clinging to a leather strap on a crowded train.

"I'm very sorry for neglecting to write for so long. Please forgive me." He stood up and made to surrender his seat. Because he was in such a hurry to stand and because the train rounded a curve just then, he staggered, and his hand brushed against the lady's thigh. He grew still more flustered and red in the face.

"Thank you. You're just the person I wanted to see. There's a little something I want to ask you about. Would you minding getting off at the next main street with me?"

"Not at all." Monzō replied deferentially, as if he were the lady's servant. Out of habit, he regarded Mrs. Yamano's beauty with something resembling fear. He was even more uncomfortable when he came into contact with this lady than he was when he encountered her husband, Yamano Daigorō, who was from his hometown.

Disembarking at Ueno Main Street, the pair set off shoulder to shoulder in the direction of the public park.

"I don't suppose you've eaten lunch yet. Neither have I. But won't you stroll with me for a little while? I'll treat you to a meal at the Seiyōken6 once we've finished talking. You see, it would be inconvenient if what I have to say were to be overheard."

Whatever it was, the lady appeared to take it extremely seriously. But no matter what she might say, as long as he was able to walk shoulder to shoulder with her, and more than that to join her at table, Monzō was in ecstasy. Thinking back, he realized he had not eaten all morning.

He thought himself lucky to have gone out that day wearing his only good suit of Western clothes. Dressed like this, I shouldn't be an embarrassment to the lady. I may even have achieved a perfect balance with her attire. Monzō thought only of such things as he followed a step behind the lady, gazing at her beautiful figure.

As they neared the entrance to the park, where pedestrian traffic was sparse, the lady suddenly turned to Monzō and made an odd inquiry: "Say, Mr. Kobayashi, you once told me that a famous amateur detective was among your acquaintances, didn't you? Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Oh, you mean Akechi Kogorō? I wouldn't call him a friend, but I certainly do know him. He was in Shanghai for a long time and only returned six months ago. We met on his return, but I haven't even paid him a visit since. They say he hasn't been accepting many cases since he came back. Do you have some business with him, madam?"

"Yes. I haven't told you yet, but something dreadful has happened. To tell you the truth, Michiko has run away from home."

"What? Michiko? I had no idea. When did it happen?"

"It's been five days. It was almost as if she disappeared. No matter how hard I think, I have no idea why she ran away or where she could have gone. I'm beginning to feel there might really be such a thing as being spirited away after all. We've asked the police to investigate confidentially. They've divided up the work and investigated my husband and everyone else who has been in and out of the house, but there are no clues at all. I hope you understand the situation. I'm truly at my wits' end. My husband had some idea about Osaka, so he set out for his branch office there last night, even though he has no business there. And this morning I'm walking here on my own initiative, asking after the acquaintance of an acquaintance. I even deliberately boarded a train, of all things, almost like a detective." Smiling strangely, she added something with no relation whatever to the story of Michiko: "By the way, do you know the head priest of Yōgen Temple?"

Monzō was more than a little confused, but at the same time a wild idea began to form in his mind.

"No, there's no reason I should. Why do you ask?"

"I first saw you in front of Yōgen Temple," the lady said suspiciously. "I passed you on the vacant land near the gate. I suppose you were wrapped up in your own thoughts. The head priest of that temple comes from the same village as my husband, but he is quite an eccentric. I went to see him about Michi and am on my way back now. Didn't you know that he's from your hometown?"

"Is that so? I hadn't the least idea. I feel as if I've been bewitched by foxes since last night.7 There really must be something wrong with me if I encountered you, madam, without realizing it. My mind has been a bit queer recently."

"Now that you mention it, you do seem preoccupied with something. Did something happen?"

"Haven't you read, madam? There was an article in this morning's paper saying that a young woman's leg has been pulled from a ditch in Senju."

"Oh, I read that. It startled me for a moment because of Michi. But it couldn't be her." She smiled.

"I've had an awful time because of that article," Monzō began awkwardly. "I went to Asakusa Park last night. In the dark public park, I came across someone like a monster. I've been completely mad since then."

It appeared that the lady's curiosity was aroused, so Monzō summarized the events of the preceding night.

"My goodness, how creepy!" The lady knit her brows. "But it was probably just nerves. The priest at Yōgen Temple is not the sort to tell lies, and if a cripple like that were about, there's no way that the people of the neighborhood could fail to notice him."

"I think so as well. But if that's the case, things are even more hopeless. . . ."

They walked about Ueno for more than thirty minutes, Monzō ascertaining the facts of Michiko's disappearance, and Mrs. Yamano inquiring into the character of Akechi Kogorō. At last, the conversation terminated with a decision to call on Akechi at his lodgings.

Finishing their meal at the Seiyōken and calling for an automobile, the two headed for the Kikusui Inn in Akasaka, where Akechi was lodging. Monzō had a strangely pleasant feeling. Taking a meal face to face with the beautiful Mrs. Yamano, sitting beside her in the trembling automobile, and the thought of the lodgings of the famous amateur detective at their destination all delighted his childish heart.

When they alighted from the automobile and stepped into the inn's wide entrance hall, he was feeling thoroughly agreeable. He even entertained an outrageous fantasy that Mrs. Yamano was his lover and had come to meet him, going behind her husband's back.

Fortunately, Akechi was at home. He came cheerfully into the corridor to greet them.

It was a sunny ten-mat Japanese room. The three seated themselves around a rosewood table. Akechi arranged his features, which resembled those of the professional storyteller Hakuryū, into a smile and waited for his guests to broach the reason for their visit. Mrs. Yamano appeared to form a favorable first impression of the amateur detective. She even smiled as she began to tell of Michiko's disappearance. The smile made her expression innocent, like a young girl's, increasing her already considerable charm.

In the six months since his return from Shanghai, amateur detective Akechi Kogorō had been suffering from inactivity. While he said that he had already grown sick of detecting as a hobby, the reality was that he could not stand the tedium of idling about in his room at the inn. Just when his inactivity had become intolerable, Kobayashi Monzō, an acquaintance with whom he had shared a boardinghouse during his period of poverty and for whom he felt some affinity, had come bringing what promised to be a challenging case. As he listened to Mrs. Yamano's tale, he intuited with the experience of many years that this would be an interesting affair. Unconsciously, he thrust a hand into his unruly hair and began to stir it with his fingers.

Although Mrs. Yamano's story was quite long, Akechi summarized it in his own style and committed only the necessary parts to memory.

Missing person: Michiko Yamano, nineteen years old, Mr. Yamano's only daughter, graduated from a girls' school last year.

Father: Daigorō, forty-six years old, iron merchant, director of a real estate company.

Mother: Yurie, thirty years old. Michiko's real mother passed away several years ago, and Yurie is her stepmother.

Servants: two maids, two kitchen maids, a houseboy, a driver and an assistant.

These were the usual occupants of the Yamano house.

"Then, you say that there are no clues at all?"

Having heard Mrs. Yamano's story once in its entirety, he now enquired into the main points.

"Yes, it truly is mysterious. As I said, Michiko's bedroom is on the second floor of the Western-style house. There is only one door in and out of the building, and the room in which we were resting is right in front of that door, so no one could have come out without us knowing at once. Even if we hadn't noticed, the main doors in the entrance and all the others were locked from the inside, so there shouldn't have been any way for her to sneak out."

"Were all the windows in the house locked?"

"Yes, they were all locked from the inside. Besides, even though it had just rained and the ground outside the windows was soft, there were no footprints that we could see."

"I suppose the young lady wouldn't have been able to go out by a window, anyway." Akechi paused. "Did anything unusual occur the previous night?"

"Nothing I would call unusual. Her piano was heard during the evening, but when I went to look in on her at around nine o'clock she was fast asleep. My husband returned from his shop just before I went to look in on her and was in the study right below Michiko's room for a long time, going over his affairs. If Michiko had come downstairs, or if anyone had tried to sneak in, my husband could not possibly have failed to notice. By the time my husband went to bed, the servants were already asleep and all of the doors were locked, so there was no longer any way out."

"How odd. The young lady cannot possibly have vanished.

There must have been a clue somewhere."

"But there's no mistake about the doors being locked. The police made various investigations, but the detectives would only say that it was quite mysterious."

"Couldn't she have gone out in the morning?"

"A maid named Komatsu brought in the morning post and found Michiko's bed empty, but the gate had not yet been opened, and the houseboy was cleaning the entry. The tradesman's entrance had only just been unlocked, and the kitchen maids were in the kitchen. No one could possibly have gone out unnoticed."

"As for the reason your daughter ran away from home, I believe you said that there was none in particular?" Akechi continued his questions.

"No, I haven't the least idea why she did it. I'm only her stepmother, and she may distrust me unjustly on that account, but that was our only trouble. Even so, I would like to assure myself of Michiko's safety as soon as possible. I've come here to consult you while my husband is away because I can't bear to wait patiently and do nothing."

Mrs. Yamano returned to the agony of her position two or three more times, repeating her explanations.

"Was there no engagement or any sort of love affair?"

"There have been two or three proposals, but Michiko said herself that the men didn't suit her or gave some refusal to that effect, and nothing has been decided. Other than that there's been nothing to speak of. . . ." She appeared to hesitate.

"You said your husband went to Osaka?" Akechi pressed his advantage.

"Yes, that is, well . . ." The lady became flustered. "Michiko's favorite aunt lives over that way, so my husband wondered if Michiko might not be hiding there with her."

But the lady's reticence had apparently been on account of something else.

"Just being told of it, the affair is mysterious enough," Akechi spoke thoughtfully, "but just now, you told me that your daughter vanished from inside a house with no way to get in or out. Because such a thing is, in reality, impossible, there must be a perfectly ordinary misapprehension somewhere, and we will all laugh about it later. Once that point is cleared up, your daughter's whereabouts will become known to us with surprising ease. Would you allow me to view your daughter's room? Perhaps I will be able to unravel the riddle without difficulty."

"Yes, of course. Please do as you think best. I have a car waiting right now, so why don't we set out at once?"

After waiting for Akechi to change his clothes, the three departed the Kikusui Inn. Akechi wore Chinese clothing brought back from Shanghai, of which he was proud, and a matching felt hat. Compared to several years before, he had become something of a fop. Inside the automobile, none of them said much. Each of them had something to think about.

"Something quite trivial, something the amateur would think absurd, will play an extremely important role in solving this mystery. Silly things that deviate from the ordinary are indispensable, especially when it comes to crime. The secret of the crime-solver is not to make light of such things. Such are the ideas passed down to us by the famous foreign detectives." Akechi spoke to himself, addressing no one in particular.

The three were squeezed onto a single cushion, with Mrs. Yamano in the center, Akechi on the right, and Monzō on the left. Mrs. Yamano's knee pressed against Monzō's every time the car jolted, and he gradually retreated into the corner. Yet he secretly enjoyed this novel experience.

The car soon passed over the Sumida River and made for Mukōjima along the river. When it passed over the Azuma Bridge, Monzō recalled the unpleasant article he had read that morning. Again, Michiko's disappearance and the freshly severed arm carried by the mysterious dwarf formed an unsavory association in his mind. Mr. Yamano's residence was in a quiet area of Kōmechō in Mukōjima8. Sounding its assertive horn, the automobile entered a splendid, crossbarred gate.

Passing along a clean-swept gravel path, the automobile came up alongside an entranceway built in Japanese style. A small, concrete, two-storey Western building stood at a right angle to the right of the Japanese-style main building, and a wooden garage was visible to the left, a little way from the main hall. Although certainly not grand, it was an estate which somehow gave the impression of affluence.

Coming into the entrance hall, Mrs. Yamano appeared to make an inquiry of the houseboy who came to greet her, but she soon passed through a long corridor and guided her two guests into the parlor on the lower floor of the Western-style building. Although it was not very spacious, careful attention had been paid to the hues of the wallpaper, curtains and carpet as well as to the arrangement of the furniture, so that it was a comfortable room. The glossy surface of a piano in one corner reflected the pattern of the carpet.

Throwing himself into a white, armchair upholstered with linen, Akechi brusquely made a strange inquiry: "Have you checked the shoes?"

"What?"

Mrs. Yamano was somewhat startled by Akechi's abrupt manner of speaking and smiled as she answered his question with one of her own. She had been about to take her leave to the Japanese-style room, but, as Akechi seemed to be speaking to her, she reconsidered and sat down.

"If your daughter has run away from home, a pair of her shoes should be gone," Akechi explained.

"Oh, if that's what you mean, I haven't seen the plain pair she kept for casual wear. A shawl and a small net purse of hers are gone as well."

"What sort of clothing? . . ."

"She was in her everyday clothes. Dark silk."

"In other words," Akechi said sarcastically, "on the one hand, the house was so securely locked up that she shouldn't have been able to take a step outside. And, on the other hand, the shawl, shoes, and so on are all present to attest that she did indeed run away from home."

"That's right," the lady answered with embarrassment.

"Then, would you be so kind as to show me the interior of this building?"

Akechi returned to his feet as he spoke.

The parlor and the master's neighboring study were the only two rooms on the lower floor. Akechi passed a brief glance over the study then ascended the stairs at the end of the corridor outside. Kobayashi and Mrs. Yamano followed. There were three rooms on the second floor, all of which were used by Michiko, the only daughter. From the state of her rooms, it could be guessed that Michiko was not a methodical person. The various articles of her toilette stood in disarray before a full-length mirror in the powder room, and the bookshelves and desktop in the study were cluttered and disorganized.

The lady opened the cabinets and closets one by one and displayed their contents. Although she produced Michiko's recent correspondence from a drawer of the desk and displayed it as well, there was not a single item which attracted Akechi's interest.

"We searched the closets and so on thoroughly that morning, but we found nothing out of the ordinary."

The lady wished to indicate that there had been no oversight on the part of the household.

"But, unless she was a ghost, she couldn't have left a locked room."

Akechi touched the wallpaper and examined the locks on the windows as he spoke.

"Is it possible your daughter is still in the house?"

Monzō thought that if Michiko had managed to stay hidden within the house for five days, she must surely be a corpse. He still could not escape the nightmare feeling of the previous night.

Having looked over the room from top to bottom, the three returned to the parlor.

"It seems Michiko is fond of the piano. Do you play?" Akechi inquired as he stood before the large upright piano in the parlor and lifted the lid of the keyboard.

"No, I'm absolutely clumsy."

"Then, other than your daughter, no one here can play?"

Seeing the lady nod in assent, Akechi seemed to think of something, sat down on the piano bench and began to play.

The other two were startled by Akechi's childish behavior. But even stranger was the sound of the piano, which made a sound like the striking of a clock with a bent mainspring as Akechi's fingers touched the keys.

"Is it damaged?" Akechi stopped playing and looked at the lady.

"No. At least, it shouldn't be. Michiko was always playing it."

Akechi tested the broken key once more and, sure enough, it made the same noise. The next key had come down with phthisis as well. The three suddenly fell silent and exchanged glances. They had been struck by an uncanny premonition. Mrs. Yamano went ghastly pale and fixed her gaze on Akechi's eyes.

"May I open it?" Akechi inquired presently, his expression grave.

"Yes, by all means," the lady replied, her voice and heart trembling.

Akechi moved the metal fittings under the keyboard, opened the lid of the piano halfway, and peered inside.

Monzō leaned forward behind Akechi. He gazed steadily at Akechi's expression rather than at the inside of the piano. He expected the detective to find something horrible inside the piano's resonating chamber. The bloody corpse of a woman with its arms and legs severed floated vividly before his eyes.

But at first glance nothing was amiss inside the piano, whose lid had been completely removed. Within the large cavity, only the intricate lengthwise and crosswise springs could be seen.

When he was sure of that, Monzō heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed. He thought amusedly of his foolish daydream of the moment before. He exchanged a glance with the lady, and they both smiled slightly. She was certainly of the same mind.

In spite of that, Akechi's expression became still graver as he conducted a single-minded investigation of the piano's interior. And when he finally stood up and turned to face the two, his voice was low.

"Madam, this is no ordinary case of a girl running away from home. It is more horrible. Do not be alarmed. This hairpin is your daughter's, isn't it?"

Akechi displayed a metal hairpin.

"Yes, that's probably Michi's."

"This was caught in the springs inside the piano. That must be why it made such a noise. Is your daughter's hair long and just a little red?"

In addition to the pin, a single hair was entwined about his fingers.

"Oh my, then . . ." Mrs. Yamano exclaimed in astonishment.

"Your daughter can't have been playing hide-and-seek. It would be impossible to climb inside here and close the lid alone. That being the case, I cannot but think that someone hid your daughter here." After a slight hesitation, Akechi continued. "This is merely conjecture, but it seems someone may have concealed your daughter here for a time, prepared for her disappearance, waited for a time when everyone's attention was diverted, and then carried her out of the house."

"But, there wasn't a single visitor that day, and this room is the closest to our own. So we would have known if anyone had sneaked in." The lady sought a way to contradict Akechi's imaginings.

"If we assume that to have been the case, then it is inconceivable that your daughter had freedom of movement at that time." Akechi went on without taking notice. "If she had been able to cry out or move, someone would have heard her. Most likely she could neither move nor cry out.

"It is a queer hiding place, but there was probably no other choice on the spur of the moment. Criminals are creatures who employ absurd plans, such as we could not imagine. Conveniently, there is no one else in the house who plays the piano, so the ploy went undiscovered. It appears that the scoundrel who hid your daughter conducted himself with surprising composure. I made an examination just now to see if there might not be fingerprints on the lacquer of the lid, but there are none at all. It has been wiped clean."

Although it felt somehow unreal at first, as they listened to Akechi's explanation, they gradually understood the nature of the case clearly. The first thing they worried about was Michiko's safety. Mrs. Yamano spoke a little haltingly and with a deliberate nonchalance, as if afraid to put it into words.

"Are you saying that Michiko has been abducted? Or perhaps something even more terrible?"

"I can't say yet. Under the circumstances, I can't be optimistic."

"But even if Michiko's body had been hidden here, how could it possibly have been carried outside? During the day, there were ourselves and a great crowd of eyes, and the doors were shut at night. Even if someone sneaked in and got out again, it is impossible that we should not have noticed. There has never once been a door latch out of place when morning came."

"That's so. I was thinking of that just now. Are even the windows here checked every morning to see if they are fastened?"

"Yes. My husband is wary by nature, so the maids have been ordered to take great care. And everyone has been more careful than ever since this happened."

"By any chance, since your daughter vanished," Akechi spoke as if he had suddenly realized something, "has any large article been carried out? As you can tell from this piano, whoever has made off with your daughter possesses some rather extraordinary ideas. He may have employed another ridiculous conjuring trick in carrying your daughter away. In other words, I am wondering if he may not somehow have concealed your daughter's body in some entirely unimaginable object and then carried it out."

The lady appeared to be a little taken aback by Akechi's odd suggestion.

"No, no large object of that sort has been carried away."

"But if your daughter is not within the estate, then she must have been carried out of it by some means. And judging by the state of this piano, it's unthinkable that she could have gone out by herself." Akechi hesitated slightly, then said, "Would it be possible for you to call the servants in here? I'd like to ask them a few questions."

"It will be an easy matter."

The lady called all the employees of the household to convene in the parlor. It was somehow an impressive scene. The five men and women jostled and milled about before the door, fidgeting restlessly. They gazed at Akechi's Chinese garments with queer expressions in their eyes, unable to judge what sort of person he might be.

Only two of the employees were absent. Komatsu the maid had complained of a headache and was sleeping in the maids' room, and Fukiya the driver had returned to his parents' home two or three days before.

Akechi did not much like to gather a crowd of people in one room and attempt to interrogate them like that. It differed from his usual method. But how had Michiko (probably a corpse) been carried out of the Yamano estate? There was a need to investigate that point alone in a great hurry.

Mrs. Yamano introduced Akechi Kogorō to the employees, who looked at him suspiciously, and admonished them to answer all of his questions without the least reserve.

"I would like you to describe, as well as you can remember, all the people who have come in or gone out of this estate since your young mistress went missing. In other words, since the second of April," Akechi got straight to the point. He then turned his eyes to the houseboy who minded the entrance.

Yamaki the houseboy, his pimple-covered face reddening slightly, racked his brains to list the names of visitors. He added that among these men and women, fifteen or sixteen were acquaintances of many years and that there had been nothing about them that ought to arouse the least suspicion. The lady was of the same opinion on this point.

"Wasn't there anyone among them who carried away something large? I don't just mean visitors but even the people of the house. I don't care who it was. Be that as it may, wasn't there a person who went out the gate carrying some large object?"

"You say a 'large object,' but the most I saw was a briefcase," the houseboy answered, mystified. "Automobiles and rickshaws have gone in and out by the gate, but no one went away carrying anything large."

None of the other employees knew anything more.

"Has anyone been in or out by the rear entrance?" Akechi at last seized upon the two kitchen maids.

"There were only well known tradesmen in the kitchen." One of the kitchen maids looked to the other, as if seeking agreement.

In the end, they learned nothing. The driver hadn't driven anyone besides the master of the house and he declared that he didn't remember carrying any kind of large object. If nothing had been overlooked, then it seemed as if there was nothing to do but to search above the ceiling, under the floorboards and in the nooks and crannies of the house. But they had already been searched to exhaustion by the people of the Yamano household: Michiko Yamano had indeed vanished like smoke.

"But such a thing is impossible! There is something we are overlooking. You overlooked this piano. If you had been more careful, your young mistress might have been found before she was carried off. It must be something obvious. We are failing to notice something quite ordinary. Besides what has been said just now, isn't there something which has been left unsaid? For example, the houseboy has said nothing of postmen coming and going by the gate. Although a postman couldn't have carried off your young mistress, we shouldn't leave out that sort of trivial detail."

"There were cleaners and laborers and so on as well, weren't there?" Monzō broke into the conversation as if he had suddenly come to his senses.

"That's right. That's the sort of thing I mean."

"Oh my, speaking of cleaners, hey, Okimi," one of the kitchen maids said abruptly, looking over her shoulder at her colleague. "It was the very next day, wasn't it? When he came early in the morning to take the garbage? That sanitation worker from the ward office, I mean."

She addressed this last to Akechi and bent in a slight bow.

"Was there something unusual about him?"

"No, not particularly . . . But he seemed to be a little earlier than the scheduled time. Even though he always comes about once every ten days, that time he came when he had been just two or three days before."

"I suppose the waste bins are by the tradesman's entrance in the kitchen?"

"Yes, they are placed inside the service entrance."

"What sort of man was he? Did you recognize him?" Akechi looked as if his curiosity had been roused.

"No, I didn't particularly recognize him, but he was a dirty man wearing a livery coat, just as always."

"I suppose he came in by the tradesman's entrance. Did you see where he brought the garbage?"

"No, we just passed each other at the gate as I was leaving on an errand. What about you, Okimi?"

"I didn't get a good look at him either, but . . . oh, yes! Now that I think back on it, there was something odd. Even though it had only been two or three days since the last man came to take it away, our waste bin was full. That morning, I went to throw away the trash before the cleaners came, and noticed it, but," Okimi turned to Akechi, "I was busy, and I had nearly forgotten it."

"Is the waste bin large?" Monzō asked, unable to wait for Akechi's question. He was more fascinated than others by such bizarre happenings. He privately wished to test his own conclusions as to Michiko's whereabouts.

"Yes, it is very large."

"Large enough to hold a person?"

"Yes, a person could get in all right."

After such questions and answers had been repeated, Akechi and the others went to inspect the waste bin by the tradesman's entrance. The service entrance opened in the high concrete wall opposite the main gate. Just inside it was a large, black-lacquered waste bin. Except that its size showed those wild imaginings to be possible, nothing much was discovered.

"Conceal a person in the waste bin and cover them from above with filthy garbage. They are then moved onto a garbage cart by a man dressed up as a sanitation worker and carried off somewhere. This is a most absurd fantasy. But its absurdity makes it all the more likely to be true. There are some extraordinary points about this case. There are points which cannot easily be considered with common sense. Criminals do occasionally concoct wild and ridiculous plans," Akechi explained to Mrs. Yamano, who appeared dubious.

After that, a thorough search of the premises was conducted, and the servants were investigated one by one. In the case of Komatsu, the kitchen maid who had complained of a headache and gone to sleep in the maids' room, Akechi went to that room and made various inquiries of her.

Immersed in the air of the Yamano household like that, Akechi managed to grasp a few points. From the language and expressions of Mrs. Yamano and the servants, a single, hazy conclusion seemed to have been born.

Akechi and Kobayashi received the hospitality of dinner and quit the Yamano residence with the onset of night. Although Monzō made various attempts to learn what conclusions Akechi had come to, the latter continued mostly in silence until Monzō alighted from the automobile and split off in the direction of his boardinghouse.

For two days after that, nothing happened out in the open. Akechi no doubt was moving his investigation forward, so Kobayashi Monzō called alone at the Yamano estate or prowled aimlessly about Asakusa Park and the neighborhood of Yōgen Temple in Honjo according to his own judgment. No fresh incident occurred at the Yamano residence, either.

But on the night of the third day, the tenth of April, an unprecedented strange occurrence took place in a famous department store on Ginza Avenue. It established beyond a doubt that the case of Yamano Michiko's disappearance was no commonplace affair of a girl running away from home.