Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner Chapter 61: The Disappearing Corpse

The man standing at the door, Mr. Yasukawa, was not tall, and could even be described as a bit stooped. His hair was sparse, and his face was full of wrinkles. His unusually large eyes made him look like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings at first glance.

The lights behind the door were not on, leaving everything in darkness. Fushimi Roku raised his flashlight and rudely shone it into the room. Beside the entrance was not a shoe cabinet, but a statue of Avalokitesvara, weathered and aged, sending shivers down one’s spine.

"Please co in," Mr. Yasukawa croaked hoarsely.

The apartnt was small, about seven or eight square ters, with Noh masks hanging all over the walls. Shining his flashlight around, Fushimi Roku felt they looked like pale human faces.

Mr. Yasukawa set up a folding table, and everyone sat down on the tatami mats. Both Fushimi Roku and Watanabe Shun sat cross-legged casually, while Minamoto Tamako, like a Yamato Nadeshiko, took off her shoes and sat silently with her little feet in white socks tucked under her heart-shaped pelvis.

The foul sll ca from the trash can, filled with bento boxes, wadded-up white paper, and various household waste; the chemical odor emanated from the Noh masks, so of which still had wet paint... For Minamoto Tamako, the sanitation conditions were hellish, and she couldn’t help but move closer to Fushimi Roku.

Ah, the sll of Attack concentrated laundry detergent, it was quite pleasant, sowhat managing to fend off the indoor stench attack.

Under the scrutiny of three patrol police officers, Mr. Yasukawa quietly introduced himself. His full na was Yasukawa Seiji. He was a mask artist with a keen interest in operas and theater. He was particularly fond of Chinese Sichuan and Cantonese operas, as well as Western Shakespearean operas...

Sensing that this guy would keep rambling without end, Watanabe Shun impatiently interrupted him, insisting that he get to the point about the ghostly apparition in the hallway.

If there was no clear explanation, how could they justify the crowdfunding? If soone reported them for illegal fundraising, they wouldn’t even have a place to plead their case.

"Um, okay..."

Yasukawa Seiji looked sowhat regretful, as he began to narrate what he had seen and heard.

The matter wasn’t actually complicated. Three months ago, a woman moved into the apartnt building. She was a bit ntally unstable and wandered around endlessly, saying she was looking for soone. When others asked who she was looking for, she couldn’t say; if they chased her away, she’d just co running back.

Helpless, a few kindhearted residents ca together and decided to find an empty room for the woman to stay in.

Fifty percent of the apartnts in this building were occupied by squatters, most of whom were unemployed vagrants. Only the street-facing units had proper rent paynts; any older rooms were for whoever moved in first. Although there was no water or electricity, it beat living under a bridge.

And so, the woman moved in next door to Yasukawa Seiji.

The woman was exceptionally beautiful, tall and well-proportioned, with a presence that surpassed TV actresses, so all the bachelors on the floor took great interest in her.

Yasukawa Seiji didn’t know her na, nor did he have much interaction with her. He only occasionally heard the laughter of children from the next room — theoretically, the woman ca by herself and lived alone, but Yasukawa Seiji clearly heard two voices.

"It must have been around noon today, a shot suddenly rang out in the hallway. The woman possibly got scared or was sohow provoked, and she started screaming, ’Give it back, give it back,’ as she ran down the corridor with her hair disheveled, barefoot, up the stairs... not long after, she jumped off the building and died."

After Yasukawa Seiji finished speaking, he anxiously observed the expressions of the three people. He found it odd, for so reason, that the handso male officer’s gaze lingered on the top of his head for a few seconds.

"But didn’t you say earlier ’a while ago’?" Minamoto Tamako imdiately pointed out the flaw in his logic: "’A while ago, a woman jumped off the building. Since then, ghostly apparitions often appear in the hallway,’ that’s what you originally said, isn’t it?"

"N-noon can be considered ’a while ago,’ right?" Yasukawa Seiji stamred: "There truly were several ghostly apparitions at night, so it can be considered ’often’..."

At this point, even Watanabe Shun could tell he was lying, his criminal police instincts blazing as he slamd the small table, shouting: "Damn it! You dare to lie to the police too? Spill it! What exactly are your motives!"

"No... I just rembered it wrong... don’t get violent — I’m telling the truth!"

The scene quickly descended into chaos. Watanabe Shun seized Yasukawa Seiji’s sparse hair, pressing his head against the table to interrogate him; Minamoto Tamako urgently tried to diate, but didn’t want to directly contradict her senior, leaving her anxious and worried; Fushimi Roku sat on the side, watching the spectacle unfold, thinking that a few snacks would make it perfect...

"If you don’t believe , you can ask the others!" Yasukawa Seiji shouted aggrievedly: "Everyone on this floor saw it!"

Watanabe Shun pressed him several more tis, but Yasukawa Seiji kept saying the sa thing. With the two juniors watching, Watanabe had no choice but to spare him for the ti being.

The three of them split up. Watanabe Shun stayed in the room to prevent Yasukawa Seiji from locking himself in like a turtle. Fushimi Roku and Minamoto Tamako went door-to-door, verifying the truth of Yasukawa Seiji’s words.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t lying. Several tenants saw the woman jump, and their accounts matched Yasukawa Seiji’s exactly. Strangely enough, they did witness ghostly apparitions when returning ho in the evening.

Sotis, the apparition stood in the hallway, sotis behind a balcony, sotis behind a window, its face indistinct, chilling to the bone. The tenants were deeply unsettled, so they put white salt and talismans outside their doors, hoping to ward off the vengeful spirit.

Minamoto Tamako asked several more questions, like where did the body go, who did the woman usually associate with, why didn’t anyone call the police... The tenants, however, replied with a mix of unclear, uncertain, and indifferent ignorance.

Initially, Minamoto Tamako suspected that the tenants were collectively lying. How could they be so calm about a neighbor jumping to their death?

Only after asking residents on other floors did Minamoto Tamako learn that jumping from the building was actually quite common here. Every two to three months, soone would commit suicide by jumping. During stock market crashes, as many as three or four people a day would jump from the roof.

This was getting stranger by the mont.

Even if Minamoto Tamako were Sherlock Hols reincarnated, it was impossible to make bricks without straw. With no body, no cri scene, and no clue about the victim’s identity, even filing a report with the police might not get the detectives to take it seriously.

In the end, Minamoto Tamako had to classify the matter as pending, promising the residents she would organize a fundraiser to hire monks from Honmyo Temple to exorcise the spirits.

Once this was settled, the trio continued their patrol, encountering only trivial incidents of no consequence. During the night, they made several trips back to the koban, dragging in bickering couples, fighting delinquents, and lost drunks.

Twelve hours whisked by, and at six o’clock in the morning, Sugamo cald down from its restless state, returning to peacefulness under the dawn light.

On their way back to the dormitory, Minamoto Tamako kept muttering about the ghostly apparitions at the apartnt, asking Fushimi Roku if he had any clues.

The latter, having been worked like a horse all night, was in a foul mood and was contemplating whether to bribe the chief to transfer him. Upon hearing Minamoto Tamako’s question, he casually replied, "Isn’t it obvious? Yasukawa Seiji told only half the truth; the woman isn’t dead at all."

Minamoto Tamako was startled and quickly asked, "Why do you say that? Could that ghostly apparition actually be a living person? How did she disappear in the hallway?" Seeing that Fushimi Roku was ignoring her, it felt like a hundred ants were crawling on her, "Just tell already! I’m dying of impatience!"