The Hunter by Asa Nonami Page A

restaurant workers and customers injured in the fire were undergoing treatment. Of the twenty-two originally hospitalized, three had been released the previous day. Takizawa and Takako had traveled to interview each of them at home last night. All three had been customers at the restaurant, and because all three lived far from Tachikawa, the pair had been unable to accomplish anything else.
    The two hospitals were near the scene of the fire. By noon, Takizawa and Takako had to file an interim report with the desk. At that point, depending on what new information came in from other teams, the investigation might take a new tack, so questioning of the remaining patients needed to be finished this morning; she assumed Takizawa understood the urgency.
    But who knows — since he won't say a word to me.
    Takizawa, the senior partner of their team, had been proceeding according to his own judgment, and all Takako could do was follow along. She had made up her mind that when he did speak to her—whenever that might be— she would be prepared to give a clear, concise answer. Until then, she would silently go wherever he did.
    Six customers—four male and two female—and two male restaurant workers, all with relatively mild injuries, were staying in the first hospital. After introducing themselves to the attending physician, Takizawa and Takako visited each of the six. All said pretty much the same thing:
    "What did he look like? I don't know. Just a man."
    "By the time I saw him, he was already in flames. All I could think about was trying to escape."
    "The first thing I heard was—I think it was a young waitress screaming. I thought, what's going on, and I tried to see. Stuff was beginning to catch fire."
    A college student who had broken his arm escaping the fire kept glancing at Takako as he answered Takizawa's questions. "I was in the no-smoking section, you know, way across the room? So I couldn't really tell what the hell was going on. I never thought it would turn into such a big deal—then before I know it, somebody's on fire, jumpin' around, and I'm like, wow! It was like a TV show or somethin', know what I mean?"
    Everyone, whatever the level of language used, was of the mind that the fire had indeed erupted from the person of the victim himself. Interestingly, when they spoke of their surprise and terror, all of the witnesses, not just the student, seemed oblivious to the physical pain they themselves had suffered.
    "So, yeah, I almost lost it," the student went on. "I mean, it got really wild in there. Pretty soon there's all this screaming, and black smoke coming out of everywhere. It stunk to high heaven, and my eyes were, like, all scratchy."
    "Did he say anything, the man who was on fire?" asked Takizawa.
    "I already told all this to somebody yesterday."
    "Run it by me again, will ya? I'm hearing it for the first time."
    "He kept shouting 'I'm on fire! Help!' Over and over. But there was nothing anybody could do."
    "I’m on fire! Help!' Got it. Anything else?"
    "Um—he made a sound like a wild animal. A kind of bellow, like Uaaugh."
    "Uaaugh."
    "You're writing that down, too?"
    "Yep. Now tell me this—how was it you happened to be out getting something to eat at that time of night? "
    Takizawa conducted the entire interview by himself, without the least regard for Takako's presence. She took her own notes and stood behind Takizawa, observing the student's demeanor as he talked. It was better if she kept her mouth shut and her eyes open. By standing at a distance and watching, she might pick up something from an expression or a gesture.
    When he finished answering Takizawa's questions, the student looked over at Takako. "What about her? Is she a cop, too?"
    Takako crinkled her eyes in a smile, but Takizawa didn't turn around. "Yeah, you could say so," he mumbled.
    "Wow. A woman cop." The student stared at her with frank fascination.
    Then Takizawa closed his notebook loudly and said, "See, it's like this. John