The Silent Dead Read online

  She was unable to put up any meaningful resistance as her panties were ripped off, her legs forced open, and her body penetrated. He had a hand over her mouth. She screamed wildly but no sound came. She felt terror at the violence being done to her. She felt desperately alone: no one was coming to save her although she was so close to home. She felt despair at the thought of the future she was losing.

  And it got worse. Without any preamble, the man stabbed Reiko in the ribs. He raped her again, this time with the knife stuck inside her. Drifting in and out of consciousness, Reiko prayed for the nightmare to end. Don’t stab me anymore. Don’t rape me anymore. I don’t want to die.

  Then. “Hey, what’s going on over there?”

  A beam of white light sliced through the darkness. She caught a glimpse of the rapist’s face. He was smiling. He wrenched his head away, jumped to his feet, leaped over the hedge, and ran off in the opposite direction.

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  A pair of legs came to a halt nearby. There was the clinking of metal against metal. Strong arms picked her up. She smelt sweat on a shirt. Overwhelmed with relief and with shame, Reiko passed out.

  When she came to in the hospital, Reiko was told that she had fallen victim to a serial rapist active in the area. She’d also seen the man’s face. That was significant. A number of detectives came to her room to ask her about what had happened. Reiko didn’t reply. She couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t just the detectives; she couldn’t bring herself to speak to the doctors, the nurses—not even her own family.

  She didn’t yet see herself as a rape victim. She was gripped by a crushing sense of despair. She felt irremediably soiled. The life she had pictured for herself would never be hers.

  Waking from her shallow sleep, for a brief moment she hoped that the whole thing was nothing more than a bad dream. But the wound on her left side, the white walls of the hospital room, and the endless parade of visiting detectives brought home the fact that her private nightmare was a public crime. No one was going to let her gloss over the incident. They weren’t going to let her cry herself to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened while her physical wounds, at least, slowly healed. She couldn’t deceive herself or anyone else with a nice comforting story about being attacked by a stray dog. Reiko had been raped and stabbed. She was the victim of a full-fledged crime. She found herself hating the policeman who had rescued her. If he hadn’t shown up, she could have reported the incident as just a simple stabbing.…

  After a few days, the number of detectives coming by suddenly dropped off. Only one kept coming: a short, pudgy, and—even the teenage Reiko had to admit it—rather cute woman detective. She had been there before, but hadn’t yet spoken to Reiko.

  The woman’s name was Michiko Sata. She was an officer in the Saitama Prefectural Police Criminal Investigation Bureau. She brought Reiko flowers and her favorite kind of candy, as well as music CDs, fashion magazines, comics, and a portable game device.

  Reiko was surprised to find that Detective Sata avoided any mention of the rape. She treated Reiko like a friend or like a sister, just chatting about normal, everyday stuff—snafus at work, her obnoxious bosses, her favorite movie stars, books, TV shows, whatever.

  Reiko’s first response was puzzled silence. She gazed abstractedly out of the window. Eventually one of Sata’s anecdotes got to her, though, and she burst into laughter. The story was about how Sata had accidentally put the handcuffs on herself instead of the perp she’d just collared. After that, Reiko began talking to Detective Sata. She didn’t say much, but slowly began to open up, though she still refused to speak to anyone else.

  After a few days, Sata asked Reiko if she could perhaps “help them with their inquiries.” It was the first time she’d referred to the rape. She wanted Reiko to take a look at the facial composites the police had created based on the other victims’ statements to see if Reiko could identify her attacker.

  Reiko refused. To see that face—the grinning face of the man who had violated her looming out of the darkness—was the last thing she wanted to do. The thought was enough to unleash a swarm of buzzing flies around her head.

  “If it’s going to be difficult, we can forget about it. The most important thing is for you to get better.”

  Detective Sata left it there and went home.

  She continued to drop in on Reiko at different times every day. She generally steered clear of the rape, but every second or third day she would gently ask if Reiko felt up to looking at the composites.

  “I can’t. I’m too frightened.”

  “All right. Not to worry then.”

  Every time she came, Detective Sata brought Reiko a little gift: home-baked cookies one day, a favorite book of hers or an ice cream on another.

  While Sata tactfully kept her references to the rape to a minimum, Reiko’s attitude was undergoing a gradual change. I want to face up to what happened to me. I want to help Detective Sata, and I want her to help me so I can face this rape full on. But on the day she finally made up her mind to look through the mug shots, Sata, for some reason, failed to come. Nor did she come the next day either. On the third day, a burly, middle-aged male detective she recognized as the first person to try to interview her came into her room. He brought with him an older woman.

  “You’re looking a whole lot better,” he said by way of greeting. There was something strange and forced about his smile.

  Reiko said nothing. She examined the faces of both her visitors then looked away.

  “Miss Himekawa, I have some news for you. One is a very good piece of news: three days ago we made an arrest in the incident that we’re investigating here.”

  The incident that we’re investigating here. The detective had to speak in these nebulous terms because Reiko had yet to provide any details about what had happened to her. She hadn’t admitted to being raped, so he couldn’t come out and say, “We arrested the man who raped you.” But they thought they’d got him. They’d caught that man with the grinning face in the darkness.

  “Unfortunately … I have another piece of very distressing news.”

  The words stuck in the detective’s throat. While he struggled to keep his emotions in check, the woman beside him stared vacantly into space.

  “Detective Sata … lost her life in the line of duty.” Getting the words out cost him a huge effort. Reiko’s brain froze in shock.

  “The suspect resisted arrest. Detective Sata was stabbed as she grappled with him. She was taken to the hospital as fast as possible, but she’d lost too much blood. They couldn’t save her.”

  The detective gestured at the woman. “This is Detective Sata’s mother. She has something that she very much wants to show you. Mrs. Sata?”

  The woman gave Reiko a formal bow, then pulled a book out from her battered cloth handbag. The book had a dark green leather cover with a strap and buckle.

  “I’d like you to look at this, Reiko. It’s my daughter’s journal. She kept it up right up to the night before she … was killed.” The woman broke down. The tears poured out of her as if a dam had burst. The male detective tried to comfort her with a hug. Reiko timidly picked up the diary and opened it.

  She flipped through it until she found the day after she’d been raped and started reading the entry. Along with a description of the overall incident, there was a great deal about Reiko personally.

  Reiko’s face is a complete blank. You can tell that she’d be very pretty if she smiled, but at the moment she isn’t even able to register sorrow or pain. I know she’s doing her best to process what happened to her. It’s not an easy thing to watch. The doctor in charge of her case says she’ll need to stay in the hospital for a couple of weeks because of the internal damage she sustained.

  Reiko played one of the computer games I brought in. She isn’t reading the fashion magazines or comics though. I think she likes flowers. I went for something colorful and brought her some freesias. She looked at them for a while. That�
��s a good reaction. She won’t eat while anyone else is with her. I don’t want to force her to do anything, but perhaps candy would do the trick.

  The next entry was about a day Reiko remembered very well.

  Reiko laughed! She laughed at my little story, the old chestnut about silly me putting the cuffs on myself by accident. God, I’m so thrilled. She looked so cute. She has such a lovely smile. Today was a good day.

  Reiko suddenly realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. Since the rape, she’d been emotionally numb and not cried even once. Now warm tears were streaming from her eyes.

  Today for the first time Reiko tried to open up to me about what had happened. It didn’t work out. I’m pretty sure that I mishandled the situation. Something I said made her clam up and look sad. Reiko, I’m so sorry. I know that the worst thing I can do is try to hurry you. God knows, you’ve suffered enough already without me coming in to make things worse. I’ll back off a while. I wonder if Reiko likes cookies. I may not have much time to sleep if I start baking this late at night.

  I’ve got quite a few books on sex crime and just finished another one today. Regardless of how many I read, my basic philosophy remains the same: we’ve got to get Reiko to confront what happened to her head on. Burying it inside and pretending like it didn’t happen is the worst thing to do. She needs to draw a line under it. That’s how she can beat this thing. And she’s got to beat it. Her whole life is ahead of her. We can’t let this single awful incident wreck it. We must beat it together. We’re going to fight and we’re going to win. Work with me on this one, Reiko. Let’s fight it together. You can help me, Reiko.…

  Today Reiko told me “she just needed a bit more time.” It’s a major step forward. Her attitude is definitely changing. She’s starting to confront the reality of what happened to her. The lieutenant in charge keeps banging on about how we need to make a quick arrest. As far as I’m concerned, rushing things would be a mistake. I don’t want anyone else interfering with Reiko. They should leave her to me. I’m not saying that just because I’m a cop and I’m handling her case. I feel that way because I like her. I’m her friend, and I’m a woman. She’s got to confront what happened to her. She’s going to have to fight to get her life back. That’s what I want for her. Reiko, I want you to get back on your feet, and live facing forward. Come on, Reiko. Let’s work together on this. Fight to live. Fight to get your life back.

  The next entry was the last one. It was from four days ago.

  I decided not to mention the rape today. I’m not worried. Any minute now, Reiko is going to come back and agree to work with me on beating this thing. Her eyes have changed. They’re brighter now. The will to live is there again. I’m going to step back and leave the rest up to her. Her emotional state is all-important. It’s her life. You’ve been an inspiration to me, Reiko. You’ve given me so much positive energy. Thanks, Reiko. I’m ready to go to bat for you.

  Tomorrow it’s my turn to be on stakeout in the park. Based on the time cycle we’ve identified, the perpetrator should be straining at the bit by now. Bring it on, you bastard! Try me! I’m not facing you alone. Reiko will be with me, and we won’t let you win. I don’t care how dark it is or how cunning you are. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to take you down. Bring it on, you pervert! You’re going down.

  Reiko closed the journal and sat quite still. For a while, she said nothing. She couldn’t speak until she had brought her breathing back under control. Sata’s mother and the detective waited quietly.

  The cicadas were singing shrilly. Reiko looked out of the window. The leaves of the trees were black against the white rays of the sun. It was a quiet and windless afternoon.

  “I will fight.”

  Reiko looked up at the expanse of cloudless azure sky. Looked up at Michiko Sata, who was now watching over her. And she made a vow: she would fight side by side with Sata.

  It was the start of a long battle.

  The police interviewed her and took her statement. They checked her statement against the crime scene. Then came the lineup: five men on the far side of a small plate-glass window. One glimpse of the face of the second man from the left, and Reiko felt as though an army of filthy caterpillars were crawling all over her. She wanted to scratch herself, dash her head against the wall, knock herself out. Instead, she closed her eyes, pictured detective Sata’s smiling face, and recalled the words of the journal.

  Work with me on this one, Reiko. Let’s fight it together.

  Reiko inhaled deeply and forced herself to look through the window for a second time.

  “Could you get that guy—the second from the left—to smile?”

  “Huh?” The detectives were mystified.

  “Please could you ask him to smile?”

  One of the detectives went around into the next room and pulled the supervising officer out for a quick word. Then four of the men in the lineup filed out. Only the man who’d been second from the left remained behind. The officer said something to him. The man tilted his head quizzically, shook it, then said something back. The thick glass made his voice inaudible. A smile flickered across his lips as he was speaking.

  Oh my God!

  Reiko knew that face.

  It was the face of the man who had held her down, stabbed her, violated her. A man whose existence she didn’t even want to acknowledge.

  “That’s him.”

  “Nice work,” chorused the detectives.

  Reiko, to the departed Detective Sata, thought, I tried to do what you wanted. I took him on.

  Unfortunately, that was only the first stage of her struggle. The police were all very much on her side, but once the case went to court, it was a different story. Standing in the same room as the perpetrator, in front of crowd of strangers, she had to publicly admit that she’d been raped.

  The lawyer for the defense did his best to minimize his client’s guilt. Was Reiko sure she wasn’t at least a little bit responsible for what happened? Perhaps she’d been … a little heedless? He produced a medical certificate showing that Reiko, except for the stab wound, barely had a scratch on her. Was Reiko seriously claiming that she tried to fight him off? Wasn’t the sex actually consensual? Was she really a virgin at the time? The lawyer fired these questions at her at machine gun speed. Reiko began to flag.

  “I contend that there are very real reasons to believe that you were not raped by my client,” continued the lawyer smugly. “He propositioned you, and you consented. I earlier touched on the sexual proclivities of my client. There is a side of him that derives pleasure from forcing himself on women who resist him. This courtroom is not the place to debate the normality or abnormality of that, so let’s leave that for another day. What I can say with confidence is that the defendant only stabbed you, Miss Himekawa, because you put up no resistance. In other words, the defendant only stabbed you to goad you into fighting back. This is proved by the fact that none of the other victims—all of whom fought him off aggressively—were stabbed. So, while my client is prepared to accept the charge of bodily injury, we contend that the charge of rape lacks all plausibility.”

  Are you serious? You’re trying to argue that it was consensual? That I was happy to give myself up to a complete stranger in the dirt in a park at night? How can you? How can you even suggest such a thing?

  While Reiko furiously rejected his insinuations, she also began to lose her sure grip on the actual facts of the case. She was convinced that everyone in the courtroom now saw her as a slut who’d willingly had sex with the man. The weight of their imagined disapproval bore down on her. She couldn’t hold her own.

  The girl’s a slut. A lowdown, dirty slut.

  The girl’s a slut. A lowdown, dirty slut.

  The girl’s a slut. A lowdown, dirty slut.

  The libelous voices multiplied, tearing at her flesh like so many knives, ripping her open and replacing her true self with the sluttish version that the lawyer had invented—the sluttish self that had given herse
lf to the man. She was a slut. A lowdown, dirty slut.

  You know that’s not true.

  Reiko heard a voice in her head.

  That’s not true. You’re going to beat this thing. You’re going to fight, and you’re going to win.

  It was Detective Sata! Detective Sata had come back to support her.

  You’re going to fight, and you’re going to get your life back.

  Reiko imagined herself holding hands with Sata.

  You’re right, detective. That is not who I am. I would never consent to anything like that.

  Reiko now had her confidence back. She glared scornfully at the defense lawyer.

  “The fact that I had no scratch marks does not mean that the sex was consensual. The man was holding a knife to my throat. His other hand was over my mouth. I chose not to resist because I was afraid of being brutalized even more and of the knife cutting me. Submitting is not the same thing as consenting. Why don’t we apply your logic to Detective Sata? Detective Sata was prepared to put her life on the line to arrest that man. According to your reasoning, the fact she was ready to risk her life meant that she was happy to be killed—and that her murder was therefore consensual. You can’t seriously think that.”

  Reiko was vaguely aware that the judge was telling her off. Nothing he said got through to her, though, and she went right on haranguing the defense lawyer.

  “That flies in the face of common sense. Are you married? Maybe you have a girlfriend? A sister? Don’t try and tell me that if they were the victim in this case, you’d still be standing there arguing that it was a consensual act? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that because Detective Sata was willing to risk her life she actively wanted to be killed? Are you going to stand there and tell her family and the whole police force that she wanted to die? Well, are you?”

  A couple of court clerks darted out from either side of the room, to pull Reiko off the witness stand and off to silence. They made it halfway, then stopped in their tracks. They were looking not at Reiko but at the people in the gallery behind her.