low cry. For the "business" given him was even more romantic than his imagination had anticipated.
The letter was written in simple words and contained no more information than was necessary for the purpose at hand. It stated that between four and five that very day a man about forty years old would alight at Oga-wamachi from a streetcar coming from the direction of Mita. He would be wearing a black fedora and a salt-and-pepper cloak. He would be tall and lean with a longish face and a mole between his eyebrows. With these characteristics to guide him, Keitaro was to spy on the man's movements during the next two hours and then report on them. That was all the letter contained.
For the first time in his life Keitaro felt himself the hero playing a leading role in a detective story fraught with danger. At the same time, doubts arose in him as to Taguchi's intentions: whether, in order to protect his interest in society, he would dare to resort to such a surreptitious act to find out someone's weak points for some future use. When Keitaro thought about the dishonor and guilt he would feel in being used as a spy for someone, he broke out in a cold sweat. With his hand holding the letter, his body turned rigid and his eyes became fixed in a stare. Yet when he considered what he had heard from Sunaga's mother about Taguchi's character, and when he combined that information with his own personal impressions of the man, he could not feel, on the whole, that Taguchi was that ill-natured a person. And once Keitaro concluded that spying on another's personal behavior did not necessarily come from base motives, the stiffness of his muscles relaxed and set his warm blood flowing again. Regaining his composure, he could now regard the problem from the vantage point of pure interest, one free of the disgust he might feel in going against his own moral integrity.
At any rate, he felt inclined to accomplish the job in the way Taguchi had asked him to and to regard the experience as his first real contact with the outside world. Again he read Taguchi's letter, more carefully this time, reexamining it to see whether or not he would actually be able to obtain a satisfactory result only from the person's characteristics and the conditions written therein.
Of those characteristics Taguchi had described, the only one inseparably connected to the man's person was the mole between his eyebrows. But it would not be easy to be absolutely certain such a tiny mark on the face belonged to the right person, especially when, at four or five in the afternoon during this time of the year, the winter light was scant and many passengers were busily getting on and off streetcars. Indeed, great numbers of rush-hour commuters would be heading home from Marunouchi by the only line across Kanda Bridge. And there was something else. He had to take into account the streets, which would be even more congested at this time of the year-end sales when shops on both sides of Ogawamachi would be trying to attract chance customers with bunting, bands, and gramaphones, not to mention the usual electric illuminations.
When Keitaro considered these points in relation to the probability of the success of the task at hand, he felt extremely uncertain about his ability to do it alone. Nevertheless, since it was definite that the person he was to look for would be dressed in a salt-and-pepper cloak and a black fedora, there seemed to be a ray of hope. Of course he ought not to expect much of a clue only from the cloak, whatever its style might be. But since the man would be wearing a black fedora, he could easily be spotted because nearly all men nowadays wearing fedoras preferred colors other than black. If he looked carefully for this sign, he just might succeed.
Reasoning in this way, Keitaro came to the conclusion that successful or not, he should at least go to the streetcar stop. He looked at his pocket watch and found it was just one o'clock. To reach his destination
The letter was written in simple words and contained no more information than was necessary for the purpose at hand. It stated that between four and five that very day a man about forty years old would alight at Oga-wamachi from a streetcar coming from the direction of Mita. He would be wearing a black fedora and a salt-and-pepper cloak. He would be tall and lean with a longish face and a mole between his eyebrows. With these characteristics to guide him, Keitaro was to spy on the man's movements during the next two hours and then report on them. That was all the letter contained.
For the first time in his life Keitaro felt himself the hero playing a leading role in a detective story fraught with danger. At the same time, doubts arose in him as to Taguchi's intentions: whether, in order to protect his interest in society, he would dare to resort to such a surreptitious act to find out someone's weak points for some future use. When Keitaro thought about the dishonor and guilt he would feel in being used as a spy for someone, he broke out in a cold sweat. With his hand holding the letter, his body turned rigid and his eyes became fixed in a stare. Yet when he considered what he had heard from Sunaga's mother about Taguchi's character, and when he combined that information with his own personal impressions of the man, he could not feel, on the whole, that Taguchi was that ill-natured a person. And once Keitaro concluded that spying on another's personal behavior did not necessarily come from base motives, the stiffness of his muscles relaxed and set his warm blood flowing again. Regaining his composure, he could now regard the problem from the vantage point of pure interest, one free of the disgust he might feel in going against his own moral integrity.
At any rate, he felt inclined to accomplish the job in the way Taguchi had asked him to and to regard the experience as his first real contact with the outside world. Again he read Taguchi's letter, more carefully this time, reexamining it to see whether or not he would actually be able to obtain a satisfactory result only from the person's characteristics and the conditions written therein.
Of those characteristics Taguchi had described, the only one inseparably connected to the man's person was the mole between his eyebrows. But it would not be easy to be absolutely certain such a tiny mark on the face belonged to the right person, especially when, at four or five in the afternoon during this time of the year, the winter light was scant and many passengers were busily getting on and off streetcars. Indeed, great numbers of rush-hour commuters would be heading home from Marunouchi by the only line across Kanda Bridge. And there was something else. He had to take into account the streets, which would be even more congested at this time of the year-end sales when shops on both sides of Ogawamachi would be trying to attract chance customers with bunting, bands, and gramaphones, not to mention the usual electric illuminations.
When Keitaro considered these points in relation to the probability of the success of the task at hand, he felt extremely uncertain about his ability to do it alone. Nevertheless, since it was definite that the person he was to look for would be dressed in a salt-and-pepper cloak and a black fedora, there seemed to be a ray of hope. Of course he ought not to expect much of a clue only from the cloak, whatever its style might be. But since the man would be wearing a black fedora, he could easily be spotted because nearly all men nowadays wearing fedoras preferred colors other than black. If he looked carefully for this sign, he just might succeed.
Reasoning in this way, Keitaro came to the conclusion that successful or not, he should at least go to the streetcar stop. He looked at his pocket watch and found it was just one o'clock. To reach his destination
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