Ellery Queen's Japanese Golden Dozen. Ellery Queen
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the contents with Yamagishi's account book. They said promissory notes of a man named Tomio Inoki were missing. They said I'd made a mistake. Intending to steal my own notes, I'd misread the name Tomio Inoki for Torao Ueki. They said it happened because the characters used to write the names are similar. And, also, because there was only a little moonlight that night.
"Then another detective came in. He said did I know Yoshiya Nakamura? I said, sure, because he's a customer at my shop. Then he said Nakamura must know my face pretty well, and I said, sure, that's right. The detective looked real proud of himself then, as if he'd won something, and told me Nakamura had testified to seeing my hurrying in the direction of Yamagishi's house about five minutes after nine, on the night of the murder. Nakamura was looking out his toilet window. The detective was all grins. He said I probably hadn't been aware of Nakamura's watching me, but it was too late to evade. Now they had testimony of a man who'd seen me in the vicinity, the evidence of the cashbox—and my own admission of a motive. They said it was 'unshakable evidence.' God. Then they said they sympathized with me. If I'd confess, they'd have the public prosecutor release me, arrange to have the case dropped. They were very pleasant to me when they said that I probably wanted to go home to my family and my work as soon as I could.
"I tried to explain why Nakamura had seen me through the window. They wouldn't listen. They kept on promising to have the case dropped if I'd make a false confession. Well, I finally said, all right, I committed the murder. God. They were so happy they let me have cigarettes and ordered in food for me. So then I wrote a confession to their instructions. They wanted something else. A map of the interior of Yamagishi's house. So, I did that.
"Writing, I ran into problems. First, I didn't know what kind of weapon to say I used. One of the detectives said, looking at me like an owl, straight-faced, 'How about the stuff used for fuel in a stove?' I said, 'Sure, I beat Yamagishi to death with a chip of coal.' The detective called me a fool, and said, 'Stump-head. The longish stuff they bring from mountain forests. About this long.' He gestured. 'Oh,' I said. 'Split logs?' 'That's right,' he said. 'You smacked his shiny old bald pate with a hunk of firewood.' Then he said, 'C'mon, where's it kept?' I didn't know, you see. So I said, 'A corner in the kitchen.' Well, he got mad then. He shouted at me, 'No! It's a place where rain falls on it. But only drops of rain. Drop, drop, drop!' He was probably trying to be highly descriptive. 'Under the eaves?' I said. 'Right as rain!' he called out.
"But what is written in the investigation report and that first deposition makes a different impression: 'Before I went to the door, I went around behind the house, I hunted around and found a chunk of wood from the pile I knew was there. . . . So I went to the door, I stepped. into the hallway and called to Yamagishi.' It's true, the general meaning of the two statements is similar. On the end of the confession is the sentence, 'I affix my signature to certify that this transcription is identical in content to my oral testimony.'
"The detectives took me behind Yamagishi's place and asked me to show them the piece of firewood I used for the murder weapon. But I hadn't murdered anybody! I was at a loss. 'How's for this one?' asked a detective, picking a log from about the second row on top. I think he had it in mind from the start. I said, 'All right,' and it was identified as the murder weapon. Then I said, 'But there's no blood or hair on it.' They explained that there had been no exterior bleeding and Yamagishi'd been bald. So, obviously there was no blood or hair. Then, like they were making fun of me, one said, 'If Yamagishi'd bled, we'd've been forced to paint blood of his type on the log.' When I asked about lack of my fingerprints, another said, 'Prints can't be detected on a rough surface like that.' So he wrapped the log in cloth as a piece of material evidence.
"Then they asked how we'd been sitting when I killed Yamagishi. I said I'd hid the piece of wood in my hand, come in the hallway, and told him I had two million yen with me. He asked me in. I took off my shoes, stepped up into the main part of the house, and abruptly smashed him on the back of the head with the piece of firewood.
"The detectives said it was impossible. So, they had a version. Since I was a guest, Yamagishi must've taken out two cushions, like he would. When I told him I'd come to pay two million, he probably rose to go into the next room for receipt blanks. That was, according to them, when I hit him on the back of the head. They added that I'd put the cushions back in the pile by the wall to suggest the murderer hadn't been a person received as a guest. By this time, I was damned tired of arguing, and just said, 'Sure. That's how it was.' But they insisted I repeat it all, like they'd said it. So, I did that. Not very well, actually. But I did like I was told.
"Next thing, they asked me how many times I struck him. 'Once,' I said. They said it wasn't enough to kill. 'How many times?' 'Six or seven.' But that was too many. If I'd hit him that many times he'd have bled more. 'Let's see,' one said. 'You just don't remember, but it's three times, right? Three times.' He spoke as if I were a child. Then he muttered, 'Three blows with a piece of firewood would make a wound like the one described in the autopsy report.'
"Then came the cashbox, breaking it open, taking the notes, mistaking Tomio Inoki's name for mine—all of that was the detectives' suggestion. They asked about the pond where I threw the cashbox. I said, 'The one to the left.' They told me to think again. 'After all, there're only two.' So, I said the one on the right. Now, if the real killer's prints could be found on that box, I'd be okay. The investigators said it was impossible to take prints from it, because it got coated with mud from the pond. According to them, I deliberately threw the box in the mud to obscure fingerprints.
"Of course, I didn't know about the ashes they say they found in the weeds in the playground of the life-insurance company. Maybe the police burned some paper like the notes on their own. You can't read printing or writing on ashes.
"I was so eager to go home, I fell into the police trap. They promised to have the public prosecutor release me and have the case dismissed, if I confessed. They said they sympathized with my motive and wanted to help me as much as they could. I believed them.
"They took me right from the jail to the detention house. The detectives said to tell the public prosecutor exactly what I'd said to them. If I said anything different, they threatened to return me to the police and start all over. 'This time, we'll really let you have it. You try denying the confession in court, we'll see you get the limit. Play it smart, Ueki.'
"They frightened me. So, I told the public prosecutor the things like they're written in the false confession. Then, finally, I found their promises about dropping the case, letting me go home, it was all a lie. I decided to come out with the truth."
4
After reading this deposition, Harajima couldn't decide whether the claim that the confession had been made under police pressure was exaggerated or true. The first confession sounded unforced, natural. But, in its way, so did the second. There were still some policemen who might resort to tactics of the kind Ueki described. As a lawyer, Harajima was tempted to lean toward the second confession.
The public prosecutor's indictment refused to recognize the second deposition, insisting on considering the confession made before the police as evidence. The constitution (Article 38) states that confessions obtained by means of coercion, torture, or threats, and confessions obtained after unduly long detention are inadmissible as evidence. Confessions given as a result of deceptive interrogation—for instance, claiming that an accomplice has admitted guilt when he has not—or as an outcome of leading questions slanted in favor of the interrogator, are to be regarded as forced. Such evidence is insufficient to establish guilt.
Defendants often plead their confessions were forced in an attempt to prove their innocence. In such cases, corroborating evidence is of the greatest importance in establishing guilt. Such evidence includes material evidence, and testimonies of third parties. It can be divided into direct and indirect, or circumstantial, evidence.
Torao Ueki had borrowed money at high interest from Jin Yamagishi. Unable to pay, he faced the threat of having his securities seized. His desire for murder was circumstantial evidence. He had no alibi for the time of the crime. Testimonies of his friends, Nakada, Maeda, Nishikawa, and Shibata, and the manager and personnel of the Manpaiso mahjong parlor, established the fact that he had left the premises at around nine in the evening and had returned at ten.
Yoshiya