s Yayoi stood in the kitchen peeling potatoes for dinner, she was distracted by a shaft of sunlight shining directly through the window. She raised her hand to shield her eyes and looked away. There was a short period every year, around the longest days of summer, when the sun would shine in through the kitchen window for a few minutes just before it set. For one moment, Yayoi felt that the light was a sign that the gods were judging her. It was so bright, like a laser beam that would burn out the evil part of her. But that would mean burning out every part. Every part of her had wanted Kenji dead.

Still, only a corner of her mind thought like this; the rest was becoming more and more convinced that Kenji had simply vanished into the darkness after that night when they had loaded him into Masako's trunk. Whenever the children asked what had happened to Papa, Yayoi found herself wondering the same thing, unable now to see much beyond the thick darkness. It had only been three days ago, but for reasons she didn't understand herself, her memory of strangling him was steadily receding.

Still avoiding the sunlight, she closed the home-made cotton curtains and then stood for a moment, pressing on her eyes until they adjusted to the dark. She had tried to distract herself with housework and looking after the children, but her worries kept pushing up into her head like bubbles from the bottom of a pond. At the moment, however, her biggest worry was a new one: Kuniko.

***

Yesterday afternoon, Kuniko had arrived unannounced. 'Yayoi?' She had recognised the voice on the intercom and opened the door for her. Kuniko was dressed in the sort of sleeveless white mini-dress that was in fashion, with white high heels to match, but the flashy outfit looked all wrong on her pale, flabby body.

'Kuniko,' she stammered, surprised by the sudden visit and unsure whether to invite her in. At least the children were away at the day-care centre.

'You're looking very well,' Kuniko said, exaggerating her own surprise. The tone was meant to show Yayoi that she knew exactly what she'd done. Yayoi suddenly felt queasy; but perhaps that was only to be expected in the circumstances.

'Thanks,' she said, still hesitating. 'What can I do for you?'

'Well, you haven't been at work the last few days, so I thought I'd just stop by to see how you're doing.'

'That's nice of you.' What's she up to, Yayoi wondered. It's not like her to go out of her way like this. She studied Kuniko's bulging eyes, but the thick ring of eyeliner obscured any signs of her true feelings. In the meantime, Kuniko had grabbed hold of the door, ignoring Yayoi's obvious reluctance.

'Mind if I come in?'

Having no choice, Yayoi opened the door and let her into the entrance hall. Once inside, Kuniko looked around curiously. 'So where did you kill him?' she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

'What?!'

Kuniko stared at her. 'I said "Where'd you kill him?"' At the factory, she played a junior role and adopted a more deferential tone, but as she stood here now, leering at Yayoi, she seemed almost a different person.

'I'm not sure what you mean,' Yayoi said at last. Her palms were beginning to sweat.

'Don't play dumb with me. Don't forget, I stuffed his stinking body in those bags and lugged them all over the city.' Feeling exhausted, Yayoi suddenly wished Masako were here to see what had come of taking this woman into their confidence. Kuniko stepped out of her shoes and up on to the floor, her damp feet making a sucking sound on the wood. 'So where'd you do it? You see those pictures all the time... crime-scene photos. They say that after a murder there's a sort of aura for a while.' Kuniko was unaware that she was standing on the exact spot where Kenji had died. Yayoi planted herself in front of this larger woman, determined not to let her get further into the house.

'So why are you here?' she said. 'You didn't come all this way just for that.'

'It's hot in here. Don't you have air-conditioning?' Brushing Yayoi aside, she made her way through to the small living room.

The air-conditioner was kept off to save money, and the room was stifling. 'Penny-pinching, eh?'

Yayoi was suddenly aware that the neighbours might hear through the open windows, so she ran after Kuniko to switch on the air-conditioner and then went around shutting up the house.

Kuniko planted herself where she could feel the cool air and watched with an amused look as Yayoi fluttered about. Large beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.

'Now tell me, why are you here?' Yayoi said finally, unable to hide her alarm.

'I have to admit, I was shocked,' Kuniko said, her tone almost scornful. 'You're so cute and all, and then to find out you killed your husband. I guess there's no telling about people. But killing your own children's father... now that's something. What will you do if they find out later that you killed their dad? Have you thought about that?'

'Stop! I don't want to hear this,' Yayoi shouted, covering her ears. As she did so, Kuniko grabbed her arm with her sweaty hand.

Yayoi struggled to get free, but Kuniko was too strong. 'You may not want to hear, but you're going to. Do you understand? I held those pieces of your husband just like I'm holding you now, and then I stuffed them into garbage bags.

'D'you have any idea how bad that was? Do you?!'

'I do, I do... ' Yayoi muttered.

'No, you don't!' she shrieked, grabbing her other arm. 'Stop!' Yayoi pleaded, but her grip seemed to tighten even more.

'You know what happened, don't you? They cut him up! Do you know what that means? How hard that was? You hardly even saw him - after you killed him. But I saw him, and God knows how many times I threw up from seeing him... and feeling him, and smelling him! It was horrible, horrible. I don't think I'll ever be the same!'

'Please,' said Yayoi. 'No more, please.'

'But there is more, plenty more, and you have to hear it! D'you think I did this because I owed you a favour or something?'

'I'm sorry,' Yayoi murmured, crouching down like an animal.

Kuniko let go of her with a spiteful laugh.

'Fine,' she said. 'That's not why I came, anyway. I wanted to know if you're really going to pay the Skipper and me.'

'Yes, of course I'll pay you.' So that's why she's here. Feeling slightly relieved, she dropped her arms and watched warily as Kuniko stood drying off under the air-conditioner. As she studied her, Yayoi was sure she'd lied when she said she was twenty-nine; Kuniko had to be older than her. What kind of lousy friend would be vain enough to lie to you about something like that?

'When?' Kuniko said.

'I haven't got the money now,' said Yayoi. 'I have to borrow it from my parents, and that's going to take time.'

'And am I really getting ¥100,000?'

'That's what Masako said...' Yayoi mumbled. 'Something like that.' At the mention of Masako's name, Kuniko folded her arms across her ample stomach with an annoyed look. Her voice grew suddenly coarser.

'And just how much are you paying Masako?'

'She said she doesn't want anything.'

'I don't get her,' Kuniko said, looking sceptical. 'What makes her think she can act so high and mighty?'

'But without her... '

'Yeah, yeah, I know,' she nodded impatiently, interrupting her.

'Anyway, I'm wondering whether you can give me ¥500,000 instead.'

Yayoi gulped, unsure how to deal with this new demand. 'I couldn't come up with that much now,' she told her.

'When can you?'

'I'll have to ask my father. It could take a couple of weeks, maybe longer. And I might have to give it to you bit by bit.' She hung back from any commitment, worried especially that Yoshie would complain if she found out that Kuniko was now getting more than she was. Kuniko appeared to think over what she'd said for a moment.

'Okay. We can work that out later. In the meantime, could you sign this for me?' She extracted a sheet of paper from her vinyl tote bag and put it on the dining-room table.

'What is it?' Yayoi asked.

'A guarantor's contract.' Pulling out a chair, Kuniko sat down and lit one of her menthol cigarettes. Yayoi put an ashtray on the table in front of her and hesitantly picked up the paper. It seemed to be a contract from somewhere called the Million Consumers Centre for a loan that carried a forty-percent interest rate. There was lots of small print about 'compounded delinquency charges' and other things she didn't understand, with the line for 'guarantor' left blank. A circle had been drawn around it lightly in pencil to indicate where Yayoi was supposed to sign.

'Why do you want me to sign?' she said.

'I just need a name. Don't worry, I'm not asking you to co-sign the loan, just be the guarantor. Seems we're sort of in the same boat. My husband disappeared, too, so I have to have someone else to sign it. They said anybody will do... even a murderer.'

Yayoi frowned at the last bit. 'What do you mean, your husband disappeared?'

'It's none of your business. But at least I didn't kill him,' she said with a snicker.

'I don't know... '

'Look, you're not taking over the payments. It's not a big deal really. You paying me the ¥500,000 is the main thing, signing this doesn't count. Just do it.'

Vaguely reassured by her explanation, Yayoi signed the paper. If she didn't, she was afraid Kuniko might never leave; and it would soon be time to go get the boys. She didn't want her coming around again when they were home.

'Here,' she said, handing her the contract.

'Thanks,' said Kuniko, stubbing out her cigarette. Her business finished, she stood up to go. Yayoi followed her to the door and watched as she slipped into her white shoes. As she was about to leave, Kuniko turned around as if suddenly remembering something. 'What does it feel like? Killing someone?' she asked.

Yayoi said nothing, staring intently at the spreading sweat stains on Kuniko's dress. She had only just realised that she was being blackmailed. 'What does it feel like?' Kuniko insisted.

'I don't know,' she murmured.

'You do. Go on, tell me.'

Yayoi's voice dropped to a whisper. 'The only thing that went through my head was that it served him right.' Kuniko took a step backward, eyeing her nervously and grabbing the corner of the shoe cupboard to keep her balance as one of her heels wobbled. 'I did it right here,' Yayoi said, stamping her foot. Kuniko looked down at the spot, her eyes wide. As Yayoi watched her, she was surprised to realise that what she'd done could scare even a thickskinned character like Kuniko. It made her see how numb she'd been inside since the night of the murder.

'Are you coming back to work soon?' Kuniko asked, straightening up and trying to recapture her superior tone. 'I want to, but Masako thinks I should stay home a bit longer.'

'Masako, Masako, Masako! Are you two lesbians or something?'

Kuniko turned and left without another word. Get out, you pig! Yayoi thought, watching from the doorway - from the exact spot where she had killed her husband three days earlier.

She went back into the house and picked up the telephone to call Masako. She wanted to discuss what had just happened, but as the phone started to ring, she hung up, aware that her friend would probably be mad at her for having signed that document.

So the day had ended without her talking to anyone else. But today she wondered if it really mattered that Masako would be mad at her. She still needed to let her know what had happened yesterday with Kuniko. Yayoi put the potatoes in a bowl to soak and went to the phone. Just as she was about to make her call, though, the buzzer on the intercom sounded. Startled, she let out a little squeal, thinking that it might be Kuniko again, but when she picked up the receiver it was a slightly hoarse man's voice.

'Excuse me, ma'am. I'm from the Musashi Yamato police station,' he said.

'Oh? Yes?' she stammered, her heart beginning to pound.

'Is that you, Mrs Yamamoto?' the voice asked. Despite his polite tone of voice, Yayoi felt a surge of panic. Why would the police be coming so soon? Had something happened? Had Kuniko gone straight to the police last night and told them everything? It was all over! They knew! She wanted to run out the back door and never stop running. 'I've got a few questions to ask you,' the voice on the intercom said.

'I'll be right there,' she managed to answer, trying to collect herself as she went out to the hall. She opened the door to find a greying, slightly shabby man With his coat over his arm smiling amiably at her. It was Inspector Iguchi from the Public Safety Division.

'So your husband still hasn't shown up?' he said. She had met him before, when she went to file the missing persons report. The clerk who should have dealt with the form had been away from his desk, so Iguchi had politely explained the process to her and taken her paperwork. He had also answered the phone when she first called, so Yayoi had begun to feel comfortable with him.

'No, not yet,' she said, fighting to keep her anxiety under control.

'I see,' said Iguchi, his manner growing more serious. 'I'm afraid I have to tell you that pieces of a man's body were found this morning in Koganei Park.' As he spoke, Yayoi began to feel faint, as if the blood had suddenly drained from her head. She clutched at the door, certain that it was all over, that she'd been found out. But she soon realised that Iguchi had taken her panic to be shock at the news.

'Now don't worry,' he added in a hurry. 'We don't know that it's your husband. We're just checking all the missing person cases in the area.'

'Oh, I see.' Yayoi managed a relieved smile, but she knew that it had to be Kenji and she could feel the panic rising again.

'Would you mind if we come in for a moment?' Iguchi said, pushing open the door with his foot and sliding his thin frame past her in one motion. As he did so, Yayoi could see several officers in blue uniform waiting behind him. 'It's dark in here,' he commented. The curtains were drawn again to block out the afternoon sun, and after the bright outdoor light, there was something slightly odd about it. Feeling self-conscious, Yayoi ran to open the curtains. The sun had sunk lower, and it dyed the ceiling bright red.

'The windows face west,' Yayoi said, as though apologising for the fact. Iguchi, meanwhile, had spotted the soaking potatoes.

'It must get hot in here,' he said, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his face. Yayoi turned on the air-conditioner and hurried around closing the windows, just as she had done the day before with Kuniko. 'Please don't trouble yourself,' Iguchi told her. He looked around, studying the room, and when his gaze settled on her again, she felt it in the pit of her stomach - the one place that bore the mark of her battle with Kenji, the one place she would never let them see. She wrapped her arms around herself and stood waiting, frozen, unable to move.

'We'd like the name of the dentist your husband used,' Iguchi continued. 'And we'd like to take his fingerprints and palm print, if you don't mind.'

'He went to Dr Harada, across from the station,' Yayoi said, her voice emerging in a hoarse whisper. Iguchi wrote down the information in his notebook as the team of investigators stood behind him waiting for instructions.

'Would you have a glass or some other object that your husband used recently?' Iguchi asked.

'Yes,' said Yayoi. Her legs wobbled as she led the men back to the bathroom and pointed at Kenji's things. They immediately began sprinkling white powder around in search of fingerprints. When she returned to the living room, she was surprised to find Iguchi staring blankly at the tricycle in the garden.

'You've got small children?' he asked.

'Yes, two boys, three and five,' said Yayoi.

'Have they gone out to play?'

'No, they go to a day-care centre.'

'So, you have a job?' he said. 'What do you do?'

'I used to work at a cash register in a supermarket, but now I'm on the night shift at a boxed-lunch factory.'

'The night shift? That must be tough.' His tone was sympathetic.

'It can be,' she said, 'but I do get some sleep while the children are in day-care.'

'I see. I understand that's becoming quite a common arrangement... And is that your cat?' he added, pointing out at the yard. Startled, Yayoi looked out and saw Milk crouching next to the tricycle, staring at the house. His white coat already looked ruffled and dirty.

'Yes, it is.'

'Don't you want to let it in?' he asked, apparently worried that he had made her shut up the house to turn on the air-conditioner.

'No, he likes being out,' she muttered, her voice betraying the anger she felt at the cat's refusing to come back inside. Iguchi glanced at his watch, appearing not to notice.

'I imagine you'll be needing to go get your children soon.'

'Yes.... Incidentally,' she added, working up the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind, 'what's a "palm print"?'

'The palm of the hand has a print, just like the fingers,' he explained. 'There were no fingerprints on the body we found in the park - seems they'd been removed - but there was a complete palm that we might be able to use for identification. I'm hoping it's not your husband, but I have to tell you that the blood type and general age seem to match his.'

'You said the body had been cut up?' Yayoi murmured.

'Yes,' said Iguchi, his manner becoming more official. 'They found fifteen separate pieces in the park, each one about this large.' He held up his hands to show her. 'Together, the pieces are about one-fifth of the whole body. They're searching the park now for the rest. It seems they found them because of the crows.'

'Crows?' she said, sounding bewildered.

'Yes, one of the ladies who works in the park was going through a garbage can looking for scraps to feed the crows when she came across these bags. If she hadn't, I doubt they'd ever have been found.'

'If it is Kenji,' said Yayoi, making a desperate effort to keep from trembling, 'why would anyone want to do this to him?' Iguchi ignored her question and asked another of his own.

'Has your husband been involved in any kind of trouble lately? Borrowed money perhaps?'

'Not that I know of.'

'And when does he usually come home at night?'

'He's always back before I have to leave for work.'

'Does he gamble or go to bars?' Yayoi thought of the baccarat game Kenji had mentioned, but she decided against mentioning it.

'Not that I know about,' she said. 'Though lately he has been drinking a bit more than usual.'

'I'm sorry to have to ask this, but do the two of you fight often?'

'From time to time, like everyone else; but he wa... is good to the kids, he's a good husband.' She fell silent, having barely stopped herself from using the past tense. But then it occurred to her that Kenji really had been a good father, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Iguchi stood up, uncomfortable with the show of emotion.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'If this does turn out to be your husband, we'll be wanting you to come down to the station.'

'I understand,' said Yayoi.

'But let's hope we're wrong,' he said. 'Your kids are so young...' Yayoi looked up to find him staring out at the tricycle again. Milk was still sitting nearby.

***

As soon as they were gone, Yayoi phoned Masako, this time without a moment's hesitation.

'What happened?' Masako said, guessing it was an emergency from her voice. Yayoi told her what they'd found in the park. 'It's Kuniko,' said Masako, sounding defeated. 'I must have been out of my mind to trust someone like her. But who'd have thought it would all depend on a bunch of crows?'

'What should I do?' said Yayoi.

'If they take a palm print, they're sure to find out it's him. But you've got to go on pretending you don't know anything about it. There's no other way. He never came home that night; the last time you saw him was when he left for the office that morning. You two were getting along fine.'

'But what if they find someone who saw him coming home?' Yayoi said, the hysteria mounting in her voice.

'You told me no one saw him.'

'Yes, but... '

'Pull yourself together,' said Masako. 'We knew something like this could happen.'

'But what if someone saw us carrying him out to the car?' said Yayoi. Masako fell silent, as she often did when she was thinking; but when she finally answered, her words weren't reassuring.

'I don't know what we'd do then.'

'But one thing I can't let them know about is the bruise.'

'Obviously not. But you've got an alibi for that night, and you don't drive so they'd have no reason to think you could have left the body in the park. It'll all work out. You went to work as usual, and you took the kids to day-care the next day.'

'That's right, and I talked to that woman out by the garbage that morning,' she added, as if to reassure herself.

'Try to relax,' Masako said. 'I don't think there's anything to connect you to my house, and even if they search your bathroom, they're not going to find anything.'

'That's right,' Yayoi said again, then suddenly remembered the other worry she'd wanted to discuss with her. 'But there is one other thing. Kuniko showed up here yesterday and tried to blackmail me.'

'What are you talking about?'

'She wants half a million instead of ¥100,000.'

'I'm not surprised. It's just like her. She screws up and then wants to be rewarded for it.'

'She also made me sign as guarantor on a loan.'

'What loan?'

'I'm not sure, but it looked like one of those loan-sharking schemes.' This news seemed to catch Masako off guard and she was quiet again for a long while. As Yayoi waited, clutching the phone, she was sure that her friend would be furious with her, but when she spoke again her voice was calm.

'This could be real trouble,' she said. 'If the news gets out about your husband and the lender comes forward with the contract, anybody will be able to figure out that Kuniko was blackmailing you. There's no reason for you to guarantee a loan for her otherwise.'

'That's true,' Yayoi murmured.

'But maybe they won't notice your name since you're only the guarantor. She's not asking you to pay the loan for her. She's a fool, but I don't think she'd go that far.'

'She knew I didn't have the money even if she asked, so she had me sign instead.' Yayoi wasn't quite sure what Kuniko had wanted of her, but she found Masako's calm tone reassuring.

'It just occurred to me that there might be one advantage to having the body identified,' Masako said.

'What?'

'You'll get the insurance. He had life insurance, didn't he?' Of course he did, thought Yayoi, utterly amazed. Kenji had a policy worth fifty million yen. Just when things were looking hopeless, they'd suddenly taken an unexpected turn. She sat holding the phone in the gathering gloom, thinking over the possibilities.