Biblia Koshodou no Jiken Techou

Chapter 3

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Before I knew it, the hour hand of the clock pointed at 11am. It was time to open the shop.

I, who had been leisurely dusting away the top of the bookshelves, hurriedly moved the wagon filled with books, worth 100 yen on average, to the front of the shop, and flipped the rotatable signboard around.

But though I hastily opened the door, there wasn’t a single customer waiting. I couldn’t see a person on the narrow street near the station platform. The weather was overbearingly hot, and it wasn’t appropriate for going out. Large c.u.mulonimbus clouds were gathered in the sky above the roof of the platform, so I guessed there would be a thunderstorm in the afternoon.

The breeze blowing by was humid and blistering, as fusty as anyone’s breath. The signboard ‘Biblia’ spun around, and the words ‘Antiquarian Bookshop’ came into view.

Anyway, a new day began.

I stretched my back forcefully, and turned back into the shop that was ostensibly a cave made out of books. The dim interior was slightly humid, but it was much cooler than outside.

This was the 3rd day I, Daisuke Goura, was working at the Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia. I hadn’t known this before, but the shop seemed rather famous in the area as it dealt with some expensive books. After a web search through the Net, I found that this shop actually leased the books for some exhibitions.

I, who had this ‘nature’ of being unable to read books, had an encounter with the shop owner Shioriko Shinokawa a few days ago, when I brought my grandmother’s Sōseki"s Complete Collection to her. Because of that, I started working here.

Shinokawa felt that old stories had their own tales in addition to the contents of the books, and had perfectly decoded my grandmother’s ‘story’ hidden in the Sōseki"s Complete Collection. That ‘story’ was related to the secrets of my birth. Shinokawa had an exceptional amount of knowledge in regards to old books, and could display astoundingly uncanny insight. However, she was extremely introverted, and wouldn’t dare look at others in the eyes when the topic was not about books.

3 days pa.s.sed by just like that.

The one who had been watching the shop before me, Shinokawa’s little sister—Ayaka Shinokawa—never told me anything except how to use the cash register and where to put the cleaning equipment. It also seemed she was not too certain about what a job in an old bookshop entailed, and had been simply watching my actions skeptically. It certainly was unbelievable that I, who had once appeared in the shop as a customer, suddenly became an apprentice attendant of this shop overnight.

“Besides books, my sister is very ignorant of everything else other than books, you know?”

She repeated the same line so many times it felt somewhat annoying.

“A thief came into this shop a few days ago, you know? Nothing was stolen, but this area does feel a little unsafe now.”

The way she rattled on seemed to imply that I was that thief. I remember you’re the one who made me go find Shinokawa in the hospital—I really wanted to say this, but managed to hold it within me, and I continued to work silently. I was someone who grew up in a diner, and I could do some basic customer service if I put my mind to it.

Ayaka had been inside the main house this morning, and had not come out yet. Perhaps she had eased up a little of her guard on me, or maybe she thought that it was too annoying to keep watch on me all the time.

The shop was eerily quiet, and I started the computer situated beside the counter. I checked the mail, and found a long email Shinokawa sent. “Good morning, this is Shinokawa.” This was the opening, and after that, there was a long list of work instructions. Finally, she ended off with a “I’ll leave everything to you. If there’s anything you want to know, please send me an email.”

All the instructions since my first day of work came in through email. Shinokawa was in the Ōfuna General Hospital, and use of cellphones was prohibited in the patient ward. She could call from the lobby, but she probably wasn’t in a state where she could leave the bed.

Of course, I could head over to the hospital properly if it had anything to do with books. However, the issue was that there were no customers. I had no opportunity to talk with her at all.

My morning ‘work’ included preparing deliveries based on the customers’ invoice requests. The Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia was one of the shops listed under the antique books catalogue, and many of the books inside this shop could be ordered through the Net. It seemed like the income of the shop was mostly derived from this aspect; I suppose this was why the shop could still run despite the lack of customers coming here.

I moved through the shop that was stacked with books on its avenues, looking for the listed books on the invoices.

At this point, I finally knew what genres this shop dealt with. It mainly dealt with specialty books like literature, history, philosophy, and arts. There were a few Mangas and Pocket books, but these were old books that I had never heard of.

I took the listed books, and returned to the counter. I carefully checked through the email Shinokawa sent to me as I packed them.

It was probably evident without me saying this, but she only wrote about work in her emails. For some reason, I felt that there were unwritten words implied when she stated, ‘If there is anything else.’ It seemed to say, ‘please do not contact me if there is nothing going on, and do not go to the hospital.’

I didn’t think she would be happy to hear unnecessary and random talk from me; the image of her whispering, “…Is that so,” and reverting back to silence appeared clearly in my mind. Of course, it would be vastly different if it had anything to do with books. She would definitely explain to me with her eyes dazzling, just like before, and this was what I was looking forward to.

The door creaked open; I lifted my head and found an old lady with white hair walking into the shop. A parasol dangled from her armpit, she was dressed in a neat plain one-piece dress, and looked extremely refined.

It was an unfamiliar face that I met for the first time, but I supposed she was someone who lived nearby. She seemed to have come back just after completing her groceries, since she was holding onto a shopping bag with a supermarket label on it. She smiled and nodded at me, and I nodded back at her. The customers in the morning are all old people like her.

The old woman went around the shop once, stopping at several corners, flipping through the books, and browsing through them excitedly. Finally, she again nodded at me and opened the gla.s.s door, probably unable to find a book she wanted to buy.

At this moment, another customer was also entering, so she stepped aside.

I stopped what I was doing, as the new customer was dressed very oddly. His head was bald, and his eyes were large and wide. He was a short man, and I could tell from the wrinkles on his tanned face that he was in his late 50s. He was dressed in a T-shirt way too large for him, with a Union Jack flag on it, and jeans that were tattered along the edges. His neck had a pink towel draped around it.

I didn’t know what his occupation was, but he definitely wasn’t a salaryman on his day off. He was also holding a large bag that was made from leisure sheets.

The woman seemed to be as shocked as I was. She tried to squeeze by the bald man, ostensibly trying to escape—and she seemed to b.u.mp into him with her shoulder. At this moment, the bald man suddenly grabbed her shoulder.

“…Hey you, hold on for a moment.”

The baritone voice was filled with a menacing intent, and the old lady immediately turned as pale as paper. I hurriedly got up from my seat; this wasn’t some bustling street at night, but rather an antique bookshop during the day. I never unexpected to see such a dispute here.

“What are you doing!?”

I was about to pull the bald man aside, but he suddenly gritted his teeth and bellowed,

“You idiot, why’re you grabbing me here!? Look!”

He reached into the old lady’s shopping bag, and pulled out the item at the top. At that moment, I could not help but exclaim. He was holding a large book that was encased; it was the book written by Jirō Konwa and Kenkichi Yoshida, ‘Modernology’, the one I just placed on the counter. The name was a little unique, so I still had an impression of it. I returned to the counter, and found that there was a missing book—in other words, she was a thief.

“Ah…”

She groaned in surprise. I was more surprised than shocked to learn that she approached the bookshelves by pretending to support herself off the shelves because she wanted to steal books. I thought thieves would be Middle or High School students, but never expected that an old lady would do such a thing.

“…I hope you can forgive me here.”

She suddenly gave me an begging look, a vast difference from the rich lady-like att.i.tude she showed before. Perhaps this was her true nature.

“It’s not like I’m doing this because I like it. At this age here, there are times where I have to do this, so please spare me some sympathy here, please?”

She suddenly gave me a pitiful look, and it really was awkward. In such situations, I should formally hand her over to the police, according to the stipulations of the service industry, but I was a little hesitant on doing this. Perhaps it was because of my grandmother’s upbringing that I was not used to dealing with old women.

“Such indecent things you’re saying for your age!”

The bald man bellowed.

“This world has no room for shameless old folks like you. You might as well sell some chickens instead of stealing books!”

He was much more furious than I as the employee was, and he grabbed the old lady again. I had to stop him, and while we remained in a faceoff on the narrow pa.s.sage, the old lady lowered her head slightly.

“Sorry to trouble you.”

She suddenly turned around, ran out, and quickly disappeared from my sights. I also hurried after her, but lost sight of her. She escaped really quickly in a way unbefitting her age.

“She’s most likely a serial culprit.”

The bald man said to me as I returned to the shop.

“Be wary of thieves or something, will you? Won’t it be pointless for you to watch the shop if this keeps up?”

“…I’m sorry.”

I lowered my head. I was grateful that he managed to stop a thief, but I was a little confused as to why he was lecturing me. Who was he? Once he noticed my shocked and doubtful stare, the man suddenly pointed at his chest and said,

“My name’s Shida; I’m a frequent customer of this shop.”

The man who called himself Shida approached the counter, and stacked some Pocket books there. There were 7, 8 of them in total.

“…What are these?’

“Can’t you see? I’m selling these books.”

My heart throbbed for a little. Like this, I could go look for Shinokawa with a proper reason, and delightedly returned to the counter.

“The person in charge of appraising isn’t here, so please leave them and come back tomorrow…”

“I know.

Shida said impatiently.

“She’s hurt and hospitalized now. Are you a new employee? You must really like this job. Don’t you find the shopkeeper weird? It’s rare to see such an introverted antiquarian bookshop owner like her.”

As he had said, he proved he was a regular customer of the shop. He casually reached his hand towards the counter, and drew a piece of paper from the file holder. It was the invoice slip for customers to record transactions; he knew where the items were placed better than I was.

He wrote in an ardent manner. I inadvertently noticed his right hand, and his fingers were heavily cracked. The black ink stain reached into the narrow and long fingers, and that was the hand of someone living a tough life.

“Right, this should do it.”

He said as he handed me the receipt. The address given was ‘Under the Bridge of the Kugenuma Beach in Fujisawa City’, and that troubled me. I thought I was rather familiar with the Kugenuma Beach area, but I never heard of the place ‘under the bridge’.

“Where’s that?”

I asked, and at the same time, I noticed nothing was written in the telephone number column.

“Hikijigawa river flows this way, and there’s a bridge right in front of the Kugenuma Beach. You know that place? It’s slightly up from coastal road.”

Shiba drew an imaginary map with his index finger as he said.

“Yes.”

“It’s right below the bridge.”

I stared at his face without looking away—and after a while, I understood what he meant. This man was homeless.

“I picked these books recently. I’m a book watchman.”

“Book watchman?”

What does that mean? Shida however did not answer my question and tapped at the books in his hands a few times with a smiling face.

“Anyway, bring these to the hospital and get the shopkeeper to appraise them. They might not look this way, but they are decent old books. Your shopkeeper will definitely love them.”

“Ah, well.”

I wanted to ask Shida what he meant by being a Book Watchman, but Shida leaned his body over the counter, ostensibly afraid of letting others eavesdrop. I was the only person present in the shop. He really exaggerated his actions.

“…Well, there’s something I want to ask this shop about. Can you please notify the shopkeeper for me?”

“Huh?”

I didn’t know what he meant at all, but he did not give me any room to interject.

“I’m a regular customer here, so there’s no problem, I guess? …Anyway, it happened yesterday…”

As I remained speechless, Shida started to articulate further.

That evening, I went to the hospital. Shinokawa’s sister had no club activities in the afternoon, so she took over in keeping watch over the shop. I knocked on the hospital door, and there was a soft voice inside. It was vague and m.u.f.fled, but it seemed like she was inside the room.

We had not met in 3 days, but I wasn’t particularly delighted. I had been thinking about the customer Shida who had appeared during the day—the ‘request’ he presented to us.

“This is Goura. Please excuse me.”

I said as I opened the door.

“I just sent the email. The book appraisal…”

I was suddenly speechless. Shinokawa was on the bed, drying her hair with a towel. It seemed she just finished her shower, and her white skin was dyed a little cherry pink. Once she realized my presence, she stopped what she was doing and remained still.

“Sorry. I’ll wait in the corridor.”

Fl.u.s.tered, I headed outside.

“It-it’s fine…please come in…”

Shinokawa called me with a teeny-weeny voice, and lowered her head as she let me sit on a chair. Her beautiful and glossy black hair was drenched, drooping above her eyes, and I inadvertently gulped.

“I-I just…showered…I thought you would come by later…erm, sorry…”

It seemed like she wanted to say she just showered, thought I would be late, and was sorry for tidying herself at this moment.

“No, you don’t have to apologize to me about that.”

The shop was being attended to, so I came by earlier. I coughed for a while; if there was silence, I’d inadvertently think too much about the scene right now.

“You showered in the hospital’s bathroom?”

She nodded. The fragrance of the shampoo still lingered in the air.

“Helped me…”

Shinokawa murmured as she put aside the towel. She probably wanted to say that the nurse helped her bath. I see.

She suddenly took a deep breath, as if she wanted to relax. Her pajamas rose greatly with her chest, and my vision instantly settled there. I thought she was just a pet.i.te person, but I may have been mistaken—ah, am I an idiot? What would happen if she found out? Better get down to proper business.

“Can you look at these books?”

I handed over the bag I brought along. To be honest, I was a little skeptical. The Pocket books Shida brought did not seem to be as good as he advertised, and they did not look old at all.

However, once Shinokawa took out the books, her att.i.tude changed.

“Wow, this is amazing.”

Shinokawa squealed in delight like a child receiving a Christmas present. She enveloped the Pocket books tightly, and the spines pressed into her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, leaving me at a loss for where I should look.

“Look!”

Her eyes dazzled, and she turned the spines towards me. They were of Chik.u.ma Publishing and Kōdansha Arts Publishing, the three volumes of Our Mutual Friend by Charles d.i.c.kens, the first and second halves of The Coming of the Book: The Impact of Printing by Lucien Febvre and Henri-Jean Martin, the Limited Edition, Gentle Love Story of Nishōtei by Ryūzaburō Shikiba, the first and second halves of Shigemaru Sugiyama’s Hundred Demons… It seemed each book was cryptic in content, and I didn’t know what was so good about them.

“…Are they really that valuable?”

“Yes. Each book can sell for 2000, 3000 Yen.”

“Eh? Really?”

I was shocked. That was more expensive than what I thought. Those books did not look that old.

“All these books are highly rated by critics, and there haven’t been any reprints. It’s possible to purchase hardcover books, but they can’t be bought with just two, three thousand Yen. There’s a huge demand for such limited edition books in the old books market.”

I remembered Shida’s spirited look. He may look suspicious, but his ability to pick books was not to be underestimated. I was a little concerned as to how he got the books. He said that he ‘picked them recently’ after all.

“A customer called Shida brought them here.”

“Ah, so it’s him after all! I was wondering if it was him.”

She said excitedly.

“That’s because this is his specialized genre.”

“Specialized genre? What does that person do?”

“That man’s a book watchman. Did he not say so?”

“He did… but what’s a book watchman?”

I hadn’t gotten the chance to ask the man himself, as he never gave me the opportunity to raise the question.

“They’re people who buy cheap books from antique book stores and sell them at high prices. Mr. Shida goes around the new antique bookshops in the area every day.”

This was the first time I had heard of such a business. I didn’t expect people could earn a living through such a mission.

“Then why did he call himself a ‘Book watchman’?”

“There are many given explanations, and one of them is that they check the bookshelves and spot for any potentially valuable t.i.tles. [1]. Mr. Shida has always specialized in rare books trading…maybe he knows more than I do.”

“…”

Anyways, Shida was a rare customer who could contribute rare book t.i.tles to our shop. I couldn’t help but regret it a little; if only I had listened to him seriously.

“Did Mr. Shida make any requests?”

She looked at me through her spectacle frames.

“H-how did you know?”

“He always does this whenever he sells some good books to us. He wants to purchase some limited edition books of a certain publishing unit…am I right?”

She gave a sweet smile as she said this. I guess that would be because he often came to them with requests; since he wanted to sell the old books he has to this antiquarian book shop, it would be more beneficial to have connections.

“Hm, how do I put it…it’s about a limited edition book.”

I didn’t know where to begin. It was a request that was a little—no, very intriguing. Anyway, I first took a note from my pocket, something I had jotted down to prevent myself from forgetting.

“He wants us to get the First Edition of Kiyoshi Koyama’s Monument Gleaning + Saint Andersen…

“It’s an anthology from Shinchō Paperback. It seems like the First Edition was released in the 30th year of the Showa Era.”

Shinokawa immediately replied with the details.

“In that case, our shop should have some entries. It’s really not uncommon…”

“No. He doesn’t want a book in our stock.”

I shook my head.

“His request was, ‘My book’s stolen, and I hope you can help me get it back’.”

“Eh?”

She blinked her eyes. I arranged Shida’s long description in my mind; it would be better, I thought, to convey what he said in the correct order.

“…I don’t have any money, and I’m not young anymore. Right now, I’m still satisfied with my life; I don’t have to be a burden for others, and can still live on my own. Not all old people complain about unreasonable things like that woman who just stole.

There are some books I won’t sell no matter what. Everyone can have a book they treasure, right? For me, that would be Kiyoshi Koyama’s anthology Monument Gleaning + Saint Andersen. You’ve never…read it before? Such an unstudious person.

That, was basically my talisman; I always put it in my bag and brought it along so that I could read it whenever I wanted to…but that book was stolen. It happened yesterday.

Isn’t there a path to Kobukuroya on that side (he pointed in the north-west direction)? It’s the place overlapping with the coastal road. You know the first traffic light when you head down the coastal path?...Right. There’s a cross junction. The left leads to Ōfuna station, and there’s a temple at the front. [2]I rode a bicycle there yesterday afternoon.

Why, you ask? For work, work. Recently, I knew someone working in the same line of business, and we agreed to exchange our books there. The second half of ‘The Coming of the Book’ that I just brought was obtained from him.

…Huh? You’re asking me if I only have the second volume? Are you serious? The latter volumes of such rare book series are harder to get. There are those who only buy the first volume and not the second volume, not the other way around, right? There are fewer copies of the second volume in the market, and that makes them more valuable.

We agreed to meet outside the temple. I arrived there first and parked my bicycle at the pine tree beside the shrine gates…there wasn’t anyone around, and it was very quiet. I didn’t bring my watch, and I guessed it should have been almost 2pm.

That temple in Kamakura isn’t considered to be a large one, and there weren’t many visitors, especially since the sun was scorching hot yesterday. I fared much better under the shade of the trees; those waiting for the bus at the station were sweltering there.

I was bored and had nothing to do, so I thought of reading a book under the tree. My bag was in my bicycle basket, and naturally, I brought that Kiyoshi Koyama book.

Just when I was about to take it out, I suddenly felt my stomach ache. It probably isn’t proper of me to say this, but I’d been having diarrhea for the past few days. I wanted to watch my food intake, but it was really hot, and my house didn’t have a fridge.

But there was no sign of any convenience stores or restrooms nearby, so I went to the temple. I thought there would be a restroom for tourists to use.

I then placed the bag and the bicycle under the tree, thinking that n.o.body would steal it. I was really careless, and now that I think about it, it was a grave mistake.

I pa.s.sed through the gates and went down the sandō[3]. After a while, I heard a crash from behind. I looked back and found a young girl lying beside a bicycle, and my first instinct was that she crashed into my bicycle, as my bicycle was parked somewhere along the pedestrian pathway.

“Are you alright?” I asked the girl… well, that girl was about 16, 17 years old, had short hair, and was rather tall. If it were not for the fact that she was wearing a skirt, I would have a.s.sumed she was a boy.

Our stuff were scattered in front of the temple, and my bag naturally had the book I just mentioned.

“Sorry. Please help me lift this bicycle.”

I said that loudly. Well… I guess I reached my limit there, and I had no strength to pick everything up and put them back into the bicycle.

That girl however did not look back, ignored my bag, and instead picked up her dropped paper bag to check the contents carefully… I did not know what was inside, but the plain maroon bag looked pretty high-cla.s.s.

That kid then started to look around. It seemed like something very important dropped out of her bag, and she suddenly picked up something before running off.

To be honest, I felt it was strange back then. That kid picked up what looked like a Pocket book. Anyway, when I came back from the restroom, that friend of mine had already arrived and helped me pick up my stuff. I thanked him and checked the contents of the bag, only to find that Kiyoshi Koyama book missing… it took me a while to realize it was missing.

I asked my friend, and he said that he just pa.s.sed a tall girl. That girl crossed the road and seemed to be headed for the bus stop. Of course, there was no one there when I reached there, as the bus had already gone by.

I bid my friend farewell, and checked the bus stop just in case, but she was not there after all. I guess she took the book and got on the bus.

Anyway, I couldn’t get that important book back. So there’s something I want to ask this shop…

Huh? You’re asking me the reason why the girl stole the book? Isn’t that obvious? That kind of old book is definitely worth a lot of money; she must have intended to sell it for money.

That’s why, when I thought about it, I realized this old book shop was the closest one from that temple. If that kid brought that Kiyoshi Koyama book, can you help me buy it quietly? I’ll pay for it.

…The police? No, I don’t want to call the police. I don’t want to catch the culprit. I just want to get the book back. There are times when people do the wrong things in a stupor… but I really want to give her a piece of my mind.

Anyway, please help me notify your shop owner… I’ll come back again tonight. I’m going off then!”

“…That’s how it was. What do you think?”

I made this crude summary, and looked over at Shinokawa. Her hands were folded on her knees, and she gave a pondering look.

“I guess Mr. Shida really likes Kiyoshi Koyama’s works. I noticed this first when he prevented that book theft.”

She said calmly, and I was about to nod and agree.

“Eh? That has nothing to do with Mr. Shida’s request, right?”

I merely mentioned that he prevented a theft offhandedly when I was explaining Shida’s request, but she smiled and shook her head.

“In the anthology Mr. Shida had, there would certainly be Koyama"s signature work Monument Gleaning. Do you know what it is about?”

“No…”

“It’s a short story about an insipid description of a poor novelist’s daily life. Of course, the basis of this story was the author himself. He met a young girl in an old bookshop, received a birthday present from the girl, opened the wrapping, and…ahh, sorry, I went on a tangent again.”

I had already leaned forward unconsciously. I was actually more interested about the meeting with the girl at such a place, and what happened after the wrapping was opened. But she deliberately coughed and changed the topic.

“Back to the main topic, the opening of Monument Gleaning has a line like this.”

She looked up and recited fluently.

“‘If possible, I hope to age earlier, to a point when my back arches and prevents me from doing anything. At that moment, I may try raising a few chickens to make a living, but not all old people spend their time grumbling about the misfortunes of the world’.”

I was a little surprised. This truly was just like what Shida said to the old lady. I did feel a little surprised when he suddenly mentioned selling chickens.

But right now, I was surprised about something else.

“…Did you memorize all the novels you’ve read so far?”

Upon hearing this, she waved her hands in a fl.u.s.tered manner.

“H-how can that be? That’s not it. Memorizing everything is really… I merely just remembered some pages with the good parts of the books…”

“Eh? Isn’t that amazing? I’ve never met anyone like that before.”

I expressed my true thoughts verbally, but her response was beyond my expectations. Stupefied, her mouth was wide open, and her face turned bright red.

“…I-it feels weird to be praised.”

“Eh? Is that so?”

“This is the first time someone’s said that I’m amazing…”

She peered at me from behind her spectacles, and just when her eyes were about to meet my stare, she suddenly lowered her head again. I felt a little lost as to what I should do.

“…An-anyway, I suppose we should help Mr. Shida here.”

A peculiar atmosphere surrounded us for a moment, and Shinokawa again coughed purportedly to change the topic.

“Mr. Goura, please take note if anyone comes back to sell Monument Gleaning + Saint Andersen. Also…”

The eyes behind the gla.s.ses frowned.

“…I do wonder about something.”

“Wonder?”

“Did that girl really steal the book for money?”

I had been wondering about this question too. It would have been a different case if she were a book watchman like Shida, but would an ordinary person think of exchanging an old book that was randomly picked up for money?

“I feel like it’s a little strange to only steal a single book.”

She said.

“Mr. Shida agreed to exchange books with another book watchman. That meant that there were other items that could be exchanged for money. If she wanted money, don’t you find it weird that she left the other items behind…?”

I nodded. It certainly was intriguing—Shinokawa, who had been folding her arms, suddenly brought her body and leaned out at me. I thought that it felt like a pose of a model in a magazine, but I hurriedly dispelled that notion.

“Wh-what is it?”

“I feel that Mr Shida won’t get his lost book back if this keeps up…why don’t we look for that girl?”

“Eh…”

I never thought of that. Was there a need to go to such an extent for that book watchman? However, I resisted the urge to say something and stop her. Shinokawa’s large eyes widened. Even without the involvement of book trading at this point, this incident could be the best excuse for me to be here.

At the same time, my enthusiasm to search for the culprit kindled within me.

“Let’s help out then. I’ve been thinking about saying this too, actually.”

I said with conviction, or at least something to the extent of that hyperbole. She happily clapped her hands in front of her chest.

“Thank you very much. I knew you’d say that, Mr. Goura.”

Upon hearing her say that about me, I couldn’t help but feel a little touched. So she really trusts me? Just when my mood changed for the better, she continued,

“But if the girl’s not going to sell it for money, why did she steal the book? What do you think, Mr. Goura?”

I was a little lost due to this sudden question. I actually intended to hear her out all the way, just like how it went when she unraveled the mystery behind the Sōseki"s Complete Collection the last time.

“Ah, yeah… maybe she stole it because she wanted to read a book? Or maybe she wanted to read, but couldn’t find a book.”

“I think the chances of that are rather slim.”

Shinokawa firmly denied this with a twinkle in her eyes. The way she answered with such an expression showed more conviction than any words she said.

“This book isn’t really considered rare, and it’s not hard to find them in old book shops. There was a reprint of the book 15 years ago.”

“Then… ah, yes, maybe she took the wrong book during the mix up…”

I heard from Shida that the girl’s bag dropped. There was no way to be sure she didn’t have a similar book, and took the wrong one in the confusion.

“I thought of that too, but in that situation, the girl’s book would have remained at the scene… I think there must have been a reason that caused her to steal the book.”

“Hmm…”

I could not think of any more explanations. This would be the limit of my mental abilities—no, wait, wasn’t this weird?

“If she’s not selling it for money or to read, why did she steal the book?”

“Yes, I do feel this is the crux of the incident too.”

Shinokawa said spiritedly.

“The real reason why the book was stolen will become the clue leading to the girl. Let’s investigate this through.”

“Eh… but how do we go about doing that?”

From what Mr. Shida described to us, I understand a few things.”

She raised her delicate index finger as she said this, and I inadvertently looked at it.

“First, she was very anxious back then. She knocked into the bicycle parked at the side of pedestrian pathway because she was running too fast.”

“…Yeah.”

I nodded to prompt her, and she then raised her middle finger.

“Also, another thing is that the bus arrives infrequently. According to what Mr. Shida said, there were people waiting at the bus stop… I can guess that she was in a hurry trying to get to there.”

I started to gradually understand. She was very anxious because there were others waiting for the bus.

“But this is confusing. She was anxious, but why didn’t she run to the station after getting up… he said she checked through the contents of the bag and looked around.”

“Ah, yes. She was looking around for the item she dropped…”

“But she didn’t pick up the item she dropped… she picked up Mr. Shida’s book. I think there’s another possibility.”

She slowly p.r.o.nounced each word separately.

“The item in the bag did not drop out, probably because it broke or something?”

“Broke? What kind of item is that?”

“I don’t know…in that case, it might be possible she took the book to replace the broken item or to use it to repair something. She looked around anxiously, picked up a pocket book…”

I continued to stare at her intently. It was the same as when she solved the Sōseki"s Complete Collection. She could deduce so much given so few clues, and she didn’t step out from the ward room at all.

However, there was something I didn’t understand very well.

“…Anyway, what are pocket books used for?”

Shinokawa sighed, and she bent her raised fingers. She might not have realized it herself, but she looked as adorable as a Lucky Cat[4], to a point it made me feel awkward.

“I can’t think this through no matter how I try. There’s too little information.”

She said sternly while maintaining the pose of the Lucky Cat.

“…It might be better to ask the book watchman who agreed to meet with Mr. Shida. Maybe he might know something.”

“Eh? Why?”

“Mr. Shida’s a.s.sociate said that he brushed by the girl, but he wouldn’t know where she went if he only brushed by. He knew she went to the bus stop because he looked back, right?”

“…I see.”

My enthusiasm was p.r.i.c.ked again.

Shida would come to the shop later. Would I have to ask him how to contact that man?

“But that man might not come here.”

“Yes, that’s true. I think we should be the ones to visit him.”

“I see… wait, who’s going to ask?”

She looked at me doubtfully. That was a really stupid question between us. Shinokawa couldn’t leave this hospital. Wasn’t it already decided that I’d be the one to go?

The next day was a regular rest day for the Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia.

It was the first rest day since I started working, but I was outdoors, baking under the sunlight. I parked my scooter in front of the Kamakura temple, the ‘scene’ where Shida lost his book.

I stood under the shade of the pine tree, wiping my sweat as I looked around. This place was close to my High School, and I often came here when I partic.i.p.ated in the school’s temple sightseeing activity—a staple activity for schools in Kamakura. The houses were positioned not too differently from how they were back then. It was near the coastal road, but I couldn’t find any convenience stores or family restaurants. This was a quiet residential area that seemed quite sleepy, and I couldn’t find any pedestrians no matter where I looked.

I agreed to meet Shida’s a.s.sociate at this place.

Shida again came to the Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia the previous night, and was extremely delighted to hear that we’d look for the thief girl (and the prices his books would sell for). He told me he had something he wanted to ask the a.s.sociate, and contacted the a.s.sociate using the phone in the shop. I didn’t talk to the a.s.sociate directly, but he agreed to meet me cheerfully, and told me the time and location to meet.

“You should read the ‘Monument Gleaning’ once.”

Shida said to me after he contacted his a.s.sociate.

“I first read that book when I was starting this business. I did not intend to do this business like what I’m doing now; my company and family was in a mess… but I guess it’s nothing much. I do find it blissful to read under a bridge.”

Shida first appeared at the Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia several years ago, and Shinokawa did not know where and what he did for a living before that.

“He was just a poor man who’s not good at building relationships and bad at social affairs. My wish to live a completely content life was simply a wish. It’s all the more impossible to find an innocent and benevolent girl who could treat such a man gently, I guess.”

Shida’s tone was much gentler compared to what he said. He was ostensibly talking to a brother helping him.

“But though the author knew this very well, he still wrote this story. You’ll understand if you read it… I really found myself empathizing with the author who wrote this overly blissful story.”

I nodded—and really had the urge to read it.

“…Actually, I know it’s difficult to get that book back, but I’m unwilling to give up so easily… I won’t blame you even if you can’t find it, so please relax with regards to that… send my regards to that ‘baron’.”

“…What does he mean by baron?”

I muttered under the pine tree. Would that be the nickname of the book watchman? Shida never told me how he looked like, but I guess I would know the moment I meet him.

I checked the clock on my cellphone. It was slightly past the agreed time to meet, and just when I thought about how we had already talked about where to meet,

“May I know what you are doing here?”

An inquiring voice came from behind. I looked back, and found a tall man in white shirt walking over from the temple gates. He was probably in his late 20’s, and had curly hair and long eyes. His un-tanned skin gave off a fragrance of cologne, and if not for the leather business bag he was carrying, I would have believed he was a model taking photos in his free time. Did he come back from a grave visit?

“I’m waiting for someone.”

I answered, and the man’s eyes immediately dazzled. He then revealed his teeth and smiled at me pa.s.sionately.

“In other words, you’re the same as well. I walked around the temple because I came by a little early… are you the one helping Mr. Shida find his book?”

“Yes.”

The man held my hands tightly and shook it a few times. I was still a little lost regarding the situation, and I alternated looking at his hands and his face.

“I’m Mr. Shida’s friend Kasai. For some reason, he gave me the nickname ‘baron’.”

Kasai shrugged his shoulders. Anyway, he was just like a pretty boy in a painting, and I really wanted to call him something regal.

Kasai presented me with a business card. Naturally, I didn’t have one. “I’m Goura, working at the Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia.” I had no choice but to introduce myself verbally.

“Ah, so you’re from that old book shop? I did pa.s.s by the shop before, but never went in. Are you the owner?”

“No, I’m just a shop attendant. I just started working there.”

“Is that so? Please allow me to visit it when I have time in the future.”

He said with clarity.

“I only knew you were Mr. Shida’s friend, so I thought you’d be in the same line of business. I’m really sorry to call you out on a working day.”

Kasai scratched his head slightly. He looked a little scrawny, but he did not seem to be a bad person.

I looked down at the business card in my hands, at the words, ‘Owner of Kasai Bookstore’ above the name Kikuya Kasai. I heard that he was a book watchman before, but it seemed he also operated a shop.

“‘Kasai bookstore’ is the name of the shop I use online. Normally, I specialize in purchases and sell them online, so my methods are a little different from Mr Shida.”

I could not help but marvel at how there were such book watchmen. It was true that it would be faster to sell the books to the customers directly rather than through other shops; this method of operation was probably no different from an ordinary old book shop.

“I’m not too knowledge about books, and I mainly manage some limited edition song alb.u.ms and games. I’ve exchanged goods with Mr. Shida, and the genres we manage don’t clash with each other.”

Looking at the attire alone, he did not seem to be someone lacking in funds. He seemed to be a rather capable book watchman.

“Oh yes. Is it regarding the kid who took Mr. Shida’s book?”

I recovered upon hearing Kasai mention it. I then explained to him what Shinokawa discovered; that the current information we had was not enough for us to look for that girl who stole the Kiyoshi Koyama book—after hearing my story, Kasai raised his eyebrows.

“What? I described it fully to Mr. Shida. He never said such an important book was stolen.”

“Do you know something?”

“What I know is not just what you know; I didn’t just brush by her, actually. Right there.”

Kasai said this as he went to the coastal road. The bus stop was right where we were headed, and I could see the traffic lights and cross junction a little further. He stopped in front of the old gates in front of the temple rafters.

“It might be more appropriate to say that we met each other coincidentally rather than brushed by. It was around 2pm, and I was walking over from the road junction. She was squatting in front of this gate doing something, and there’s some rustling sound.”

The gates were slightly concave into the garden, and I could not see the scenery within. I looked back at the pine tree; from the positioning, it seemed the girl arrived there and waited for a while after stealing the book.

“What was she doing?”

“She turned her back away from me, so I’m not too sure. There was a maroon bag placed on the ground, and she reached her hand inside. She seemed really anxious, looking at the station from time to time. I thought it was weird, but since there was a appointment I was about to head off. When I was about to leave, she called me.”

I was a little surprised.

“Eh? You talked to the girl?”

“Yes. She asked me, ‘Do you have a pair of scissors?’.”

“Scissors?”

“Yes, scissors to cut paper. I thought she wanted something else, and to be honest, I never heard of pedestrians asking others to lend them scissors…but I just so happened to have a pair with me. I have to deliver a lot of goods by mail often, and it’s much more convenient to tie the packages.”

Kasai drew out a pair of stainless steel scissors from somewhere, and looked satisfied as he opened and closed it.

I stared at the blades that were glittering slightly. If it was just like what Shinokawa said, to use the book to repair some broken parts, would that mean Shida’s book was cut into pieces?

“I didn’t know Mr. Shida’s book was stolen when I lent her the scissors, and she looked really embarra.s.sed. She used it only for a short while, and returned it to me.”

“Did you see what she did?”

“Her bag was turned away from me, and I couldn’t see what was inside the bag… no, wait. She was holding something when I lent her the scissors. I guess that was…”

Kasai looked up at the sky for a while, and soon continued slowly,

“…I think it was a coolant.”

“Coolant?”

“That kind of thing used to keep food cold, you know?”

I knew that, but I did not understand why that girl would be holding a coolant.

“Does that mean the bag contained food or something?”

“Maybe, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”

Pocket book, scissors, coolant; I had no idea what could be linked between them.

“After returning the scissors to me, she immediately crossed the road and ran over to the bus stop.”

Kasai pointed at the bus stop on the opposite side of the road. There was a female high school student in uniform, waiting for the bus there; it was the uniform of my alma mater. She probably came back after finishing club activities, and there was a bow bag taller than her, standing on the ground.

“There was such a high school student waiting for the bus yesterday, but it was a blond boy with a guitar strapped behind his back… the bus had not arrived, and it was meaningless to watch on, so I headed off to the temple.”

“So the girl got onto the bus, right?”

“She should have been able to, but she never did.”

“Eh? What’s going on?”

She should be able to ride the bus from here to Ōfuna station. I always thought that girl was headed to the station.

“I reached the gates, and started to pack up Mr. Shida’s belongings. After a while, I was a little concerned about that kid, so I looked back at the station. The bus just so happened to be leaving, and the other pa.s.sengers had already got on, but she was the only one left there.”

“She already got all the way to the station. She didn’t get onto the bus?”

“That’s how it was. I didn’t know the reason, though. After that, she carried the bag in her arms towards the street junction, and that’s all I saw.”

I tilted my head. After hearing Kasai’s description, the mystery seemed to be bigger. She carried a bag with coolant, stole the pocket book, used the scissors to cut something, ran to the station, did not board the bus, and watched it leave—I had no idea what was going on at all.

After bidding farewell with Kasai, my phone immediately ran. It was an unknown number, and I hesitated a little before pressing the receive b.u.t.ton. “Yes?” I merely said, and waited for a reply, but the other side of the telephone remained silent.

“h.e.l.lo, may I ask who is calling?”

There was still no reply. Was it a prank call?

“What in the world, seriously.”

I said impatiently. But just when I was about to hang up the phone:

“…This is Shinokawa.”

The soft voice that came shocked me.

“Shinokawa? Erm, why did you call all of a sudden…”

My mind was in complete chaos. I did tell her my number before, but I never thought she would really call me. She wasn’t allowed to use the phone in the ward room she was staying in, but it was possible to send me emails through the data communication terminal.

“I-I’m, in the corridor now… I just came out from the rehab room…”

Now that she mentioned it, I remembered there was a s.p.a.ce in the corridor for patients to make calls. She must have called from there; it would have been better if she had told me that right from the beginning.

“I have an urge to know what Mr. Book Watchman said… so I gave you a call. I’m really sorry… so…”

She was about to hang up, and to my surprise, I inadvertently raised my voice when I spoke into the phone.

“Wai-wai-wait, please wait!”

If she hung up like this, this misunderstanding would probably continue.

“There’s something I want to ask you. I just finished my conversation with that book watchman!”

I started relaying what I heard from Kasai without further ado. Luckily, she did not hang up—but I got the feeling she was getting more confused the more I described things to her. It was improbable to think that anyone could understand such fragmented information conveyed over the phone.

I got all the way to the point where the girl crossed the road. Shinokawa clearly asked me some questions, ostensibly showing no surprise or doubt.

“…That child left the bus stop with the bag like that?”

I heaved a sigh of relief. Her att.i.tude had changed the moment she asked about books; this was the state when she solves a mystery.

“Eh? Yes, that seems to be the case.”

I answered. I really couldn’t think of anything else important. At this moment, she let out a sigh:

“…I see. I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“What she wanted to do, and why she stole that book…”

I widened my mouth in shock.

“Eh, really?”

“I don’t really understand, but I have a rough gist of things.”

“Amazing! I couldn’t even think of an idea…”

I was really shocked she was about to deduce the truth through such a message. It seemed I was wrong to think n.o.body could crack this case; she could show astounding insight whenever it was something related to goods.

“…No, I’m not that amazing…”

She went silent, and I, who was excited about this, felt that something was amiss. She said she solved the case, but she sounded dejected; she did not seem happy at all.

“Then what’s it all about?”

I was affected by her, and my voice softened. After a while, she said.

“…It’s a present.”

“Huh?”

“That girl had a present in the bag, and it seemed to be a food that required cooling. Since the bag did not have any commercial brand, I suppose she did not buy it from somewhere, but made it herself. She was that anxious because she wanted to deliver it in person.”

“To who…”

At that moment, I recalled Kasai’s words. There was another person waiting for the bus, a youth with blond hair, carrying a guitar on his back.

“And the reason why she didn’t get on the bus is…”

“She didn’t intend to get on the bus, rather she wanted to hand that youth a present… but got into trouble in the meantime. She knocked into Mr. Shida’s bicycle and fell over… the bag with the present dropped onto the floor.”

“…Did it break inside?”

I remembered the sandwich cookie I ate with Shinokawa. That was the last dessert I had recently. Was it that type?

“No, if it’s broken, it can’t be given. What was broken wasn’t the dessert… there should be something outside the dessert.”

“Outside?”

“It’s a present to the opposite gender, so there should be some delicate wrapping. Maybe the decoration or something broke, and she had to repack it again immediately, but she didn’t bring any materials and tools. She also couldn’t find any convenience stores nearby… at that moment, her eyes spotted Mr. Shida’s pocket book…”

“But there’s something weird about this.”

I, who had been listening quietly, was unable to catch up, and I interrupted.

“I’ve never heard of using book pages to repair a wrapping.”

“…I don’t think she used the book either. What I want to say is…”

The sound of a bus door opening chimed, and there was a large bus stopped in front of the station when I realized this. I inadvertently let out a cry.

A young man got off the bus. His school pants were partially covered by a white shirt, and he had a guitar case on his back. He was probably headed to school for practice. My alma mater would always hold culture festivals right after summer vacation; did he form a band with his friends and join the light music club?

The short hair was bright and blond; it seemed he bleached it.

“…What is it?”

“A high school student just got off the bus. Maybe it was the guy waiting at the bus stop when the book was stolen…”

“Go after him!”

Shinokawa blurted on the phone.

“Please ask him regarding that girl.”

“Got it. I’ll call you later.”

I hung up for the time being and trotted over. I saw public bus close its doors and leave. The boy had his back turned away from me as he walked forward. If the school rules hadn’t changed, students should have been banned from having such bright dyed hair. He probably dyed it this eye-catching color because it was the summer holidays.

“Sorry, may I disturb you for a moment?”

The boy stopped and looked backwards. He immediately glared at me; his eyes were long and narrow, probably showing a savage expression on purpose.

“…What?”

He said unhappily, and really dragged his ‘what’ out. This was a common manner of speaking here, and I used to say this when I was in middle school and high school.

“A few days ago, did a girl come to this bus stop…?”

I asked, and suddenly realized something. It was said the girl took the bag away; that meant the boy did not accept the present.

“…A girl wanted to give you a present, right? That’s what I want to ask.”

The boy looked as if he tasted something bitter as he frowned.

“Ah, you mean Kosuga? What, are you her acquaintance?”

I remembered the name ‘Kosuga’ firmly in my mind. This boy seemed to know her.

“There’s something I want to ask her about. Could you please tell me her address, or how to contact her for that matter?”

“…Are you the police?”

“Ah, no…”

I didn’t know how to continue. I failed. In my haste to call him, I couldn’t think of what to ask him at all. No one would give the personal information of an acquaintance just because of this—but after thinking about it a little, he heartily took out his phone and showed me the phone book screen. The phone number and email address were listed right below the name, ‘Nao Kosuga’.

“She probably lives around here, and I don’t really know the details. Is the phone number and email address enough?”

“…Thanks.”

I thanked him doubtfully. The boy suddenly curled his lips, and gave a thin smile befitting a painting. He seemed to have practiced it in front of a mirror.

“Did that brat do something bad? She’s a strange one.”

He said with amus.e.m.e.nt, not showing any concern for that girl called Nao Kosuga at all. I could tell he was extremely delighted.

“…What do you mean?”

“You’re looking for her for some reason, right? What about here? Are you going to abduct her and throw her in some deep sea?”

I frowned. It seemed like I was considered a delinquent; my appearance often gave this impression.

“You don’t really know her?”

“Not really. We just happen to be in the same cla.s.s. I do talk to her in the cla.s.sroom, but I really hate women with bad att.i.tudes.”

“So you rejected the present?”

“Even though it was my birthday, I do have the right to refuse, right? She was shocked when I told her, ‘I don’t want your present’.”

So he pretended to look amicable in school, yet was completely different behind the scenes and could even gain delight from doing this. He could actually tell a stranger someone’s personal information.

There was no reason for me to warn him about anything, but the more I listened, the worse my mood got. I needed to get a way to contact Nao Kosuga, however. I let him use his infrared communication to send the data to my cellphone.

“I’ll be off then. I still have club activities.”

After the boy left, I remained there for a while. Although I got an important piece of information, I could not bring myself to be happy.

While scouting for clues regarding the old book, we found out the girl wanted to give a birthday present, but her present was not accepted. Shinokawa probably wanted to be certain if Nao Kosuga took the bag with her when she left.

I suddenly recalled Kiyoshi Koyama’s Monument Gleaning. After Shida recommended it to me, I bought a copy of Kiyoshi Koyama’s short story anthology. It had been a while since I personally bought a book with printed text. Monument Gleaning was a very short novel, and I barely managed to finish it just when I was feeling uncomfortable.

The protagonist, a novelist, was extremely poor, and lived his life peacefully every day. He was dest.i.tute, but he had quite the idle life; he merely bought some things, cooked, and read some books.

On a certain day, he became friends with a young girl from an old bookstore who called herself a ‘protector of the books’. This hardworking and down-to-earth girl gave the protagonist a nail clipper and an ear pick. In the end, the protagonist accepted the presents heartily.

The story was overly blissful, just as what Shida said; it could cause people to forget the bitterness and loneliness in reality. Of course, the book didn’t state if the protagonist really had this experience, and one could think this was a fict.i.tious diary by the author as a protagonist.

A present that could cause someone to feel such warmth in a story would never occur in reality. Even if someone were to give it, there was the possibility of rejection, just as what happened before.

I recovered from my deep thoughts. Anyway, I would first tell Shinokawa what I heard from the boy, and then discuss about what to do next.

I took out my cellphone, and dialed her number.

The sun was setting outside the window, and a narrow crescent moon appeared in the sky, looking just ready to disappear. I sat on the chair beside the bed, and checked the time on my cellphone.

It was 7pm, the appointed time.

“…She’ll be here, right?”

I asked Shinokawa.

“She’ll come… that’s what she replied to me.”

After hearing my words during the day, Shinokawa sent Nao Kosuga a mail, informing her we were looking for the book in place of the owner, and hoped she would make a trip to the hospital. “I’ll go.” she merely made a reply. She had something to say to us—I guess.

“It’s good if she can return the book.”

She borrowed scissors from Kasai, and definitely cut the book in some way. I guess the book would be incomplete.

“…It’s fine. I don’t think the book will be cut to a point where it’s unreadable.”

“Why? Didn’t she cut it with scissors?”

“She did cut…”

Before Shinokawa could finish, we heard someone knock on the door sharply. The door swung aside before we could reply, and a tall girl dressed in jeans and T-shirt walked in. She h

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