The Tokyo Zodiac Murders (3 page)

After that, we met each other every day, and our loneliness turned into true happiness. In winter, there were always vendors selling roasted chestnuts near the fountain. “
Chaud
, chaud, marrons chauds!
” they would cry. Yasue and I would often buy some chestnuts and then try to imitate the vendors, falling into each other and laughing as if we were drunk.

Yasue was born in late November in the same year as me, but because my birthday is in January she was almost a year younger. She had also gone to Paris to study art, so she must have come from a wealthy family like myself. We returned to Japan together several years before Europe was overwhelmed by the First World War. I was then twenty-two. We thought we would marry, but our plans didn’t materialize. Life in Tokyo was not the same as our romantic days in Paris. Yasue filled her days socializing with old friends, and eventually the modern girl’s attentions turned away from me. We didn’t see each other for a while. I heard later that she had married.

When I was twenty-six, Yoshio introduced me to Tae and we got married. He was at Tokyo Metropolitan University, and he happened to know her because she worked at a kimono shop nearby. Although the introduction was very casual, I decided right away I would marry her; I was so lonely after my mother’s death. I had inherited her property, so I must have seemed a good catch for Tae, although women never spoke of such things back then.

Ironically, several months after I married Tae, I ran into Yasue in Ginza, holding her son’s hand. She told me she was
divorced and owned a cafe gallery in Ginza. “And guess what!” she said with a grin. “It’s named after a memorable place.” “La Fontaine de Médicis?” I said immediately. “Yes!” We both smiled. After that, Yasue became the one and only dealer of my paintings. My work didn’t fetch much, but Yasue always encouraged me to use her space for exhibitions. I had several shows there, but the results were not very good. I think it was because I had chosen not to enter competitions and had few prizes on my curriculum vitae, and I was not an aggressive businessman. I painted Yasue whenever she visited my studio, and I always included paintings of her when I showed at “De Médicis”. Yasue was a Sagittarius, born on 27th November 1886. Heitaro, her son, was a Taurus, born in 1909. Sometimes Yasue would imply that I was his father. She might have been kidding, but it could have been true. In fact, she used the same kanji character “hei” from my name for his name. If Heitaro really was my son, it would have been destiny!

I would say that my taste in art is rather conservative. Abstract painters like Picasso and Miró have never appealed to me particularly. But I love Van Gogh and Gustave Moreau. I suppose my taste is rather old-fashioned, but I prefer art that gives off strong energy in a direct way. If a painting has no energy within, then I feel it is just a piece of canvas smeared with paint. In that sense, I suppose I have to admit some of Picasso’s works do have energy and I admire them for that. I also think that Fugaku Sumie, who throws his body against a canvas, is rather good. However, I believe that creation of any good art has to be done with a certain amount of technique. If you just fling mud at a wall and call it art, I would maintain that a young kid could probably do better.  

To me, so-called “avant-garde” art is very mediocre compared to what we see in real life. I would rather look at a traffic accident—I can see explosive energy in the skid marks of the tyres and in the blood splattered on the road. The thin white chalk lines are a quiet contrast to all that brutality.

I like sculpture, but I have never found abstract sculpture very interesting. I want sculptures to look real. I suppose that is why I am more attracted to dolls than modern sculptures. I found a very attractive woman when I was young. Actually she was not a human but a mannequin in the window of a boutique near Tokyo Metropolitan University. I was infatuated with her. I went to see her every day, sometimes five or six times a day. When I went into town, I always made a detour to see her. This went on for a year. As the seasons changed, I saw her in summer dresses, winter coats and spring blouses. I wanted to ask the shopkeeper if I could buy her, but my shyness wouldn’t allow me to do such a thing.

I called her Tokie, because she looked like an actress I adored who had that name. I grew obsessed with Tokie. I dedicated poems to her. Her face was always in my mind. And I drew portraits of her from memory. That was really the beginning of my life as a painter. I would stand just to the side of the shop window and pretend I was watching the unloading of raw silk at the wholesale store next door. Secretly, of course, I was staring at the doll. She had frizzy brown hair, delicate fingers, and slender legs that I could see below the hem of her skirt. Her face had a certain elegance. Even now, I can recall exactly what she looked like.

One day, I happened to see Tokie naked while the shopkeeper was changing her clothes. My knees trembled and I
almost fainted. No other woman has ever left me feeling that way. The experience had a tremendous effect on my sexuality. Female sex organs covered with pubic hair lost all their attraction. And I began to prefer women with coarse, curly hair. I also started taking an admittedly perverse interest in mute girls and female corpses.

But my love affair with Tokie came to a sudden end. One warm spring morning, when I arrived at the boutique, she was gone from the window. My feelings could not be put into words. I was heartbroken. It was 21st March, and the cherry blossoms were about to bloom.

I’m not so fond of noisy nightclubs filled with cigarette smoke, but recently I started going to a bar called “Kakinoki”—the Persimmon Tree. I enjoy talking to one of the regular customers; he is, in fact, the owner of a mannequin factory. One day, after a few drinks, I told him about my love affair with Tokie and he kindly invited me to visit his factory. But there was no doll like Tokie to be found there.

Probably nobody could understand my feelings towards Tokie. She was very special, and no other doll could compare to her. She was like a precious pearl, whereas all the others were mere grains of sand.

My first daughter was born on 21st March—the same date that Tokie disappeared. So I called her Tokiko. It had to be fate: Tokie had been reincarnated as a human being called Tokiko. I was convinced that Tokiko would look more and more like that doll as she grew up. However, she was not blessed with good health.

As I write this, I am astonished to see where my ideas come from. Tokiko is my favourite child. I wanted her to have a perfect body, and so my subconscious must have suggested that I create
Azoth. Perhaps my love for Tokiko is something more than a normal father’s love. People born under the sign of Aries tend to be cheerful and vigorous, but Tokiko’s birthday is close to the cusp of Aries and Pisces. I think that is what causes her mood swings. When I see her depressed, I think of her delicate heart condition and then my love for the poor child surges.

I have often used my daughters as models, sketching them half-naked. Tokiko is rather skinny and has a birthmark on the right side of her belly. When I first saw how thin she was, I regretted she did not have a perfect body to match her very pretty face. I don’t mean that her body is inferior—in fact, come to think of it, I suppose Tomoko, Reiko and Nobuyo are all even thinner than she is. But since Tokiko—along with Yukiko—is my real daughter, I have always wanted her to be perfect.

Several years ago, I visited Europe again. I didn’t find the Louvre very exciting, so I took a trip to Amsterdam to see an exhibition of the work of André Milhaud. I was so overpowered by his work that for a while I could not go back to my own. It could be titled
The Art of Death
. In a deserted building that once housed an aquarium, he had constructed several tableaux. Among them was the corpse of a man hanging from a pole, and the corpses of a mother and daughter abandoned on a street. Their bodies were rotting, and the stench was terrible. The corpses were fake, of course, but I didn’t realize that for a whole year. Their faces were distorted by fear, and their muscles were wrenched with the agony of death. The most shocking exhibit was a man dying in water. His hands were handcuffed behind him as another man shoved his head underwater. There were tiny bubbles coming out of the drowning man’s mouth. This was taking place in a glass case, lit from the inside.

I could think of nothing to measure up to Milhaud’s work, let alone surpass it. After spending a whole year producing nothing, I decided to create Azoth. I decided that nothing but Azoth could supersede his work!

Nobody will know where I create Azoth, but I must be careful of dogs. They can hear the screams of the dying. Humans cannot pick up a sound when its frequency exceeds 20,000 cycles per second, but dogs can. In the aquarium of Milhaud’s exhibition, I saw a lady with a Yorkshire terrier in her arms. Its ears trembled as it listened to the sounds of death.

The place for the creation and assembly of Azoth will be determined by mathematical calculations. I could do this work in my studio, of course, but it would be very suspicious if six young women disappeared suddenly. The studio would obviously come under investigation. And even if the police didn’t suspect me, Masako could come to the studio. Therefore, I must have another venue for this work, somewhere I can store my creation. So I have bought a house in the countryside at a very good price. However, because this document may be found before my death, I dare not mention the exact location. I will only say that it is somewhere in Niigata Prefecture.

I will leave this note next to Azoth. After her creation, the parts of the girls’ bodies that have not been used should be delivered to various locations that relate to their respective zodiacal sign. The ideal correlation will be a place where a specific metal is mined. For example, gold relates to Leo, iron to Aries and Scorpio, silver to Cancer, and tin to Sagittarius and Pisces. Thus, the remains of the bodies will be disposed of as follows:

• Tokiko (Aries), in a place that produces iron
  
• Yukiko (Cancer), in a place that produces silver
  
• Reiko (Virgo), in a place that produces mercury
  
• Akiko (Scorpio), in a place that produces iron
  
• Nobuyo (Sagittarius), in a place that produces tin
  
• Tomoko (Aquarius), in a place that produces lead.
  

Once the bodies have been returned to where they belong, Azoth will emerge with supreme power. Then the magnum opus shall be completed!

I am creating Azoth not only for myself, but for the sake of the Empire of Japan. The country has followed a misguided path, and our history is marred with unfortunate incidents. Lest Japan be destroyed, we must assume the responsibility of our ancestors. The day approaches. Azoth shall guide us. Azoth shall save our nation.

In ancient times, the Goddess Himiko reigned over our country. Her realm of Yamatai was glorious. Astrologically, the islands of Japan belong to Libra, where people tend to favour social gatherings. The Japanese people believed in God and loved feasts and festivals. However, when Korean forces overpowered Japan and Confucianism was imported from China, our people changed. Their souls lost their freedom and they became self-suppressive. Then they imported Buddhism from China, but that didn’t take root, either. What the Japanese learnt was not real Buddhism, but Buddhism as misinterpreted by the Chinese. We should revert to what this country was originally—an empire ruled by a goddess.

For that reason, Azoth should be placed in the very centre of Japan, so that she can play the part of the Goddess
Himiko. Today, our standard time is determined by the Akashi Observatory at longitude 135° E, but I think this is wrong. The real centre of the Japanese Empire is longitude 138° 48’ E. The Japanese archipelago has a striking bow-like shape, but it is not easy to determine the country’s northern and southern borders. From my point of view, it would be appropriate for the north-eastern border to be either the Chishima Islands or the Kurils, which are located next to the Kamchatka Peninsula. The southern border would have to be Iwo Jima, which is located south of the Ogasawara Islands. Although Hateruma Island, one of the Sakishima Islands of Okinawa, is located at a lower latitude, Iwo Jima is to be preferred because it has the shape of an arrowhead.

The physical geography of the Japanese Empire has a characteristic beauty. That convinces me that the country’s ruling planet is Venus, which falls under the sign of Libra. We would never find such geographical beauty in any other part of the world. The Japanese archipelago reminds me of a well-proportioned female figure. Then there is the Fuji volcanic zone resembling an arrow held against a bowstring. Iwo Jima, as I have said, looks like an arrowhead. Some day, Japanese people will realize how that island has contributed to our country’s history. The arrow was shot once. It passed Australia and Cape Horn, and hit Brazil, where the largest population of Japanese immigrants in the world resides.

I can pinpoint the exact north-easternmost spot in the Japanese archipelago. Most parts of the Kurils should be regarded as part of Japan. Many claim that the islands of Paramushir and Onekotan belong to Japan, but I think they should be excluded. They are so large and close to the Kamchatka 
Peninsula, they rightfully belong to the continent. The centre of the Kurils is where Rasshua and Ketoi are located, but I believe that Japan can go further and include Kharimkotan and other southern Kuril islands in its territory.

Those tiny islands, scattered in the far north and the far south, sandwich the main islands of Japan, making it look like a giant bow hung from the continent with tassels. The easternmost tip of Kharimkotan Island is at longitude 154° 36’ E, and its northernmost tip is at latitude 49° 11’ N.

Next, the central point of the north-east–south-west axis. The westernmost tip of Japan is Yonaguni Island, which is located at longitude 123° E. The southernmost tip of the Empire, I repeat, should be Iwo Jima. The southernmost tip of Hateruma Island, located south-east of Yonaguni, is at latitude 24° 3’ N whereas the southernmost tip of Iwo Jima is at latitude 24° 43’ N. However, the central point between Kharimkotan Island and Yonaguni is at longitude 138° 48’ N. This line is the central axis of the Japanese Empire, which starts from the edge of the Izu Peninsula and goes all the way up to the Niigata Plain, where the land extends north. A part of Mount Fuji is also on this line. Therefore, this line must have played an important role in the history of the Japanese Empire, and I foresee that it will continue to do so.