CHAPTER SIX: THE THIRD DAY ON THE MAINLAND
Dusk was approaching.
The sea was turning dark. Kawaminami was standing on an embankment, peering at the faraway shape of an island floating in the sea. Beneath the staircase that led down to the sea was the crouching, lean body of Shimada, who was disturbing some children who were fishing.
They had finally come here—to S—Town.
Could Nakamura Seiji still be alive? They had come here in the hopes of finding a clue that could support the answer they had arrived at last night. They had also wanted to take a look at Tsunojima.
But after half a day spent questioning local people and fishermen, all they had unearthed was a bunch of ghost stories. Having discovered nothing that could further their investigation, the two had come to this place down by the harbour to relax a little.
Kawaminami put a cigarette to his lips, sat down and stretched his legs. He watched Shimada, who was dressed in blue jeans and a green blouson, while listening to the rolling waves close by. Shimada didn’t seem like a man in his late thirties at all, with his childish voice and his playing with a fishing rod lent to him by the kids.
“He’s strange,” Kawaminami thought. Then he recalled how the discussion last night between Shimada and Morisu had unexpectedly taken an awkward turn, and let out a deep sigh.
Shimada and Morisu had completely opposite personalities in a way. If Morisu was yin, then Shimada was yang. In the eyes of the serious and introverted Morisu, Shimada, a person who simply followed his own interests and instincts, must have appeared to be an inconsiderate busybody. And Shimada was a lot older than Kawaminami and Morisu. That must have rubbed him the wrong way, too. Shimada in turn seemed to be disappointed in the goody-two-shoes act of Morisu, spoiling his fun.
‘Mr. Shimada, isn’t it about time to go?’ Kawaminami stood up and yelled to him. ‘The trip back will probably take another hour.’
‘Let’s go then.’
Shimada gave the children their fishing rod back and waved goodbye. His long legs brought him back to Kawaminami in a few steps.
‘You seem to like children.’
‘Well, yes,’ Shimada said without any hesitation. ‘Don’t you think it’s wonderful to be young?’
The two walked side by side along the path next to the embankment.
‘We didn’t discover anything today.’
‘Oh, really?’
Shimada grinned.
‘We gathered some ghost stories, didn’t we?’
‘Those are just rumours you’ll hear everywhere. Such stories always circulate when people die under unusual circumstances.’
‘I disagree. No matter how strange it may sound, I think that the truth might be hidden somewhere in those stories.’
A swarthy, well-built young man was repairing a net on the side of the road with expert fingers. He was probably not even twenty. There was something childlike about his enthusiasm for the job in hand.
‘You know, Conan,’ Shimada said, ‘I can only hope that your comrades—no, ex-comrades—don’t get caught up in the spell of the Tsunojima ghost.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that the ghost of Tsunojima might well be none other than the man thought to be dead, Nakamura Seiji. Seiji is still alive and on the island. And your ex-comrades unwittingly went to his place.’
‘But that’s.…’
‘Sorry.’ A voice they didn’t know interrupted them. Surprised, they turned around. The voice was that of the young man repairing the net.
‘You friends of those students who went to the island?’
The young man asked in a loud voice, his hands still holding the net.
‘Yes,’ answered Shimada immediately and he walked up to the man. ‘Do you know them?’
‘Father and I took them to the island. We’re going to pick them up again next Tuesday.’
‘That’s interesting,’ said Shimada enthusiastically, and he crouched down next to the man. ‘Was there anything strange about the group that went to the island?’
‘Not really. They were all excited. Don’t know what’s so interesting about that island though.’
The young man spoke bluntly, but his eyes, fixed on Shimada, seemed friendly. He ran his hand through his short hair and spoke again, showing his bright white teeth.
‘You trying to find something about them ghost stories?’
‘Ah, yes. Something like that. Have you seen the ghost?’
‘No. That’s just a rumour. I don’t believe in no monsters.’
‘Ghosts and monsters are different beings.’
‘That so?’
‘You know who the ghost is?’
‘That Nakamura Seiji guy, right? They say his wife’s haunting the place too.’
‘Well then, have you never considered the possibility that Seiji might still be living on the island?’
The young man raised an eyebrow in surprise.
‘Still living? Didn’t he die? That’s why he’s a ghost.’
‘He might not have died,’ Shimada said gravely. ‘For example, that story about the lights going on in the Decagon House: it might be Seiji himself who puts on the lights there. Those stories of people seeing Seiji, isn’t it more realistic to assume he’s really still alive, rather than that they saw his ghost? And they also said a motorboat going near the island had sunk. What if Seiji had killed those fishermen and sunk the boat because he had been seen?’
‘You’re a funny lot.’ The young man chuckled in amusement. ‘But those stories about the boat are wrong. ‘Cause I was there, I saw how the boat turned over.’
‘What?’
‘The waves that day were high, you see, and I happened to be there, so I warned them. I told them there was nothing but small fish to find around that island. But they didn’t listen and went off. And they had just left here and hadn’t even come close to the island when a high wave caught them. Old folk might say a ghost sank the boat, but that was just an accident.
‘And you said the ghost killed the fishermen, but in truth nobody died. All the men on the boat were saved.’
Kawaminami, who stood next to the two listening to them, suddenly burst out laughing. Shimada pouted his lips.
‘Then I’ll take back the thing about the boat. But still, I think that Seiji might still be alive.’
‘Alive and living on the island, you mean? What’s he eating, then?’
‘He could have a motorboat hidden somewhere. He could go out sometimes to get provisions.’
‘Well now,’ the young man looked doubtful.
‘You think it’s impossible?’
‘I guess it’s possible if he came up at the other side of J—Cape in the night. Nobody goes out there. But if he just tied his boat there, somebody might discover it, don’t you reckon?’
‘He probably hides the boat somehow. Anyway, as long as there’s no storm out there, a motorboat is enough to cross the sea, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. With the weather right now, you could manage with a boat with an outboard motor even.’
‘I see, I see.’
Shimada hummed happily and jumped up.
‘Thank you very much. Yes, I learned something good.’
‘Really? You’re really funny.’
Shimada waved to the young man and walked to the car parked further down the road. Kawaminami ran after him.
‘And Conan?’ Shimada grinned, ‘Great catch we made, don’t you think?’
Kawaminami was not sure what part of the talk right now could be called a “great catch.” He didn’t know what it was, but he was sure Shimada wasn’t talking about abandoning the theory of Nakamura Seiji still being alive.
‘Yes,’ he said half-heartedly.
But whatever he’s thinking.…
Kawaminami thought, looking at the lingering sun above the sea on the other side of the embankment:
They are on that fateful island now. Ah well, what’s the worst thing that could happen there?
The black shadow of Tsunojima melted silently into the twilight.