The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

Before the woman confronted him, Honda was
firmly tied up and his identity was established and he
was forced to reveal the circumstances that had
brought a person of his standing to the park at such
an hour. It was a nightmare, that precisely the foolish
story he had heard upward of twenty years ago from
his old legal friend should now be his own experience.
They all seemed to have the lucidity of a nightmare,
quite divorced from reality; the shabby police station,
the dirty walls of the interrogation room, the strangely
bright light, the bald head of the detective.
He was allowed to go home at three in the morning.
A maid got up and suspiciously opened the gate. He
went to his room. He was troubled by bad dreams.
He came down with a cold the next day and was a
week getting over it.
The morning he began to feel a little better, Tōru
paid an unexpected visit. Smiling, he put a weekly
magazine by Honda’s pillow.
It carried this headline: “Troubles of His Excellency
Mr. Judge-Voyeur, Falsely Accused of Stabbing.”
Honda took up his glasses. There was an
unpleasant throbbing in his chest. The article was
astonishingly accurate, even carrying Honda’s real
name. This was the climactic sentence: “The
appearance of an eighty-year-old voyeur would seem