Each of the three investigators conducting the interview had introduced himself as simply so-and-so from Investigation Headquarters. Shiroyama did not know their title or post, but all three spoke with precise and courteous diction and did not take their eyes off of him for even a second. When Shiroyama’s eyes moved, so did theirs. Finding their gaze unbearable, Shiroyama finally resorted to avoiding looking at them altogether. And yet, he could not escape the discomfort of having three pairs of eyes boring into him.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything to eat?” an investigator asked for the second time.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Well then, we would like to confirm a few things about what you have just told us. First, when you were attacked—you said you came up the path and were struck on your left side by a blow from behind, then because you were being choked, you were unable to turn to see the assailant. You were blindfolded for the duration of your confinement, and when you were released by the side of the prefectural highway the perpetrators left you blindfolded and your wrists bound while they fled. By the time you removed the duct tape from your wrists and the blindfold, they were nowhere in sight. Accordingly, since from beginning to end you did not see the perpetrators at all, you cannot describe their faces, physique, or clothing. Nor did you see the vehicle you were transported in. Do I have all that right?”
“Yes.”
“During those few times they carried or lifted you up and you came into contact with their bodies, you sensed they were of average build. And you never detected the smell of cigarettes.”
“That’s correct.”
“After you were attacked, there were three perpetrators with you inside the car. And after you arrived at the hideout, one left while two remained. During your confinement, you were able to distinguish between the two men’s voices, and though one sounded younger than the other, you felt that neither sounded older than forty. Both spoke standard Japanese with no accent, and their tone was consistently stiff, as if they were reading from a script. They never sounded rough or violent, and refrained from whispering or making careless remarks. Finally, you did not recognize any of the voices. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“And yet I wonder,” the investigator continued, his tone shifting unexpectedly, “you said that during your fifty hours of confinement at the hideout, while your eyes were blindfolded and your mouth was taped shut, you listened with desperation for whatever words might come from the two men. They spoke as little as possible, always sticking to the script. You must have listened to their voices for any clues, racking your brain to figure out who they could be.”
“At first, yes. But I could not come up with anyone.”
“Even so, didn’t you try to guess what kind of men they were?”
“I tried, but I didn’t have the slightest idea.”
“What did you imagine, for example?”
“I can’t recall specifically. I could tell that they were not the type of men who belonged to the same stratum of society as I do, but otherwise I had no idea.”
“Perhaps it was someone who held a grudge against you or the company? Or maybe they were after some money?”
“Of course I thought about these and many other things, but I couldn’t figure it out,” Shiroyama replied, wondering if the police had to pry into every such detail.
“You said the men did not belong to the same stratum of society, but did you base that judgment solely upon the voices you heard?”
“Yes.”
“Next”—the investigator mechanically flipped through his notebook—“you said that after you were taken into the hideout, you were told that they would not harm you. They provided you with a futon and a blanket, and then you fell asleep. When you came to, you were taken to the bathroom where you did your business, the restraints on your hands were untied and the duct tape over your mouth was pulled off, and you were given oolong tea and a rice ball. During that time, you did not feel that you were in any physical danger?”
“No.”
Even as he replied, Shiroyama was again aware of the three pairs of eyes that seemed to be piercing right through him, and he had to ask himself if something was amiss with his response.
“You said that every time they pulled off the duct tape from your mouth so you could eat, you repeatedly asked them what they were after and at first they did not respond. But eventually, the older man mentioned that they wanted money, and when you asked how much, he told you six hundred million in cash. Shocked when you heard the amount, you wondered how the company could ever respond to such a huge demand . . . Is that an accurate description of what you said?”
“Yes.”
“At that point, why did you immediately assume that they were demanding money from the company?”
“I didn’t think it was feasible they would demand six hundred million from an individual.”
“If that’s true, when you determined that they were demanding money from the company, did you ask them why they were extorting Hinode Beer?”
That’s right, Shiroyama thought. He realized that while he was held captive, that was one question he had never asked. Why had the perpetrators chosen him, the president of Hinode Beer? Why did they choose Hinode from among the myriad companies that existed? These questions had been on the tip of his tongue, but perhaps what nagged at him and prevented him from asking was the memory, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, of his niece and her family’s blunder from four and a half years ago. Feeling as if he were again staring into an abyss of melancholy, Shiroyama grasped for an answer and all he managed to come up with was, “I asked but they didn’t reply.”
“Did you ask them just once?” the investigator swiftly followed up.
“Several times.”
“Let me go back to the ransom. You told us the only thing the perpetrators ever said was that they wanted money, six hundred million in cash, and they did not offer any further details. Does that mean they didn’t reply to any of your other questions?”
“That’s right.”
“What else did you ask them?”
“I asked them why they were doing this and . . . I told them six hundred million was too much . . .”
“And the perpetrators did not reply, right? When one of them started gathering up trash and vacuuming, another one told you that you were being released and they would be in touch about how to deliver the money. And right after that you were taken out of the hideout—Is that right? Did I get everything they said to you then accurately?”
“Yes.”
“Did the perpetrators say anything else to you?”
“No.”
“Did you say anything else to them?”
“No. My mouth was taped shut.”
“When the one perpetrator began cleaning up and the other one told you that you were being released, and so on, did you notice any sudden changes in either their demeanor or way of speaking? Did they seem anxious or hurried at all?”
“I was blindfolded, so I don’t really know.”
“Were there any signs of sudden commotion?”
“No. There didn’t seem to be.”
“How did you feel when the perpetrators told you they would be in touch about how to deliver the money?”
“I felt a little relieved to hear that the money had not yet been delivered.”
“During your confinement, did it ever occur to you that you might be the hostage in a kidnapping for ransom?”
“I did.”
“Then weren’t you suspicious or concerned that they were letting you go without the money being delivered?”
“No. I was just so relieved to hear that I was being released, I was in a daze.”
“How do you feel now?”
As Shiroyama cast his gaze downward, three pairs of eyes drilled into his forehead. Occasionally th
eir scrutiny transformed into suspicion. Their eyes were like daggers, and Shiroyama their target; his previous physical discomfort was now compounded by a sense of abhorrence. All the while, he found himself indulging in untimely self-reflection, remembering that for most of his life forbearance had never been his strong suit. Now that he was on thin ice, forced to stack one lie upon another, it was a wonder that a part of his mind was able to remain so coolly detached.
How did he feel, now, about the actions taken by the perpetrators? There was no room for doubt about the intention behind their cash demand. What was more, the reasons they had chosen him—the president of Hinode—as well as why they let him go and what they intended to do hereafter, were all so simple and clear that there was no choice but to accept them. Thus cornered, all that was left for him to do was to focus on figuring out how to respond, but he could not reveal any of this to the police.
“For now, I’m just thankful that I made it back in one piece. I haven’t yet had the wherewithal to analyze the perpetrators’ actions,” Shiroyama responded.
“I see.” The investigator gave a perfunctory nod, then immediately threw out a fresh feeler. “And yet if the motive for the crime is money, then it must be said that this crime group’s actions are extremely peculiar. Even though they left a note claiming ‘We have your president,’ during the fifty-six hours of confinement they made no contact with your family or company. On the other hand, they made their demand for six hundred million clear to you. What’s more, they said they would get in touch later before letting you—their hostage—go. I’m sure you understand, but in the same way that blackmail requires incriminating material, a demand for ransom cannot occur without a hostage . . .” The investigator said this much and, quite inexplicably, he looked at Shiroyama with what could have been construed as either a smirk or a wry smile.
Shiroyama, contemplating how this superficial affect was identical to the pervading mood when he entertained bureaucrats, was convinced that this procedure was indeed a waste of time, an unproductive formality in which neither party could reveal their true intentions, so he merely responded with, “I can understand.”
“But again, seeing as the perpetrators told you they would be in touch, we have no choice but to assume that their demand still stands. If, going forward, this crime group actually makes a demand for cash without there being a hostage, that would mean they didn’t need a hostage in the first place. And if that’s the case, why did they take the risk of kidnapping you at all? I can’t get my head around it.” The investigator searched Shiroyama’s eyes again, and Shiroyama responded with silence.
“Shiroyama-san. What I’m trying to say is that your story’s inconsistent. From the way they kidnapped you and held you captive to their process of letting you go, this crime seems premeditated from start to finish. During the fifty-six hours of confinement, you never detected the third man in the group coming and going from the hideout, and there was no cell phone reception at the hideout due to interference from a magnetic field. If there was no contact from outside to the two men who were watching you, we can only assume that your release was also executed as planned. So if, having released their hostage, the perpetrators are still demanding six hundred million, well, to be honest with you, there’s no way for us to grasp their true intentions—”
“The perpetrators definitely told me they would get in touch about how the money should be delivered.”
“That’s precisely the point. If the perpetrators are after a ransom, it’s reasonable to think that they must have some kind of business with you, the one they kidnapped in order to extract that money. To speak frankly, isn’t there something that you still haven’t told us?”
“I believe I’ve told you everything I can remember.”
“I hesitate to bring this up, but do you have any personal problems that you would rather not be made public? Women troubles or financial issues perhaps . . .”
“There’s no reason for me personally to be extorted.”
“It could be a problem within your family. Or some trouble at the company, over the course of the thirty-six years you’ve worked there—”
“No, nothing.”
“Around the time of the election for the Lower House of the Diet in ’92, an employee at your Hiroshima factory was forced to resign by the company, which cited a breach of employee regulations. It seems there was significant backlash from a certain religious organization following the dismissal.”
Shiroyama was surprised anew. Trying to recall the details about an event of which he had no memory felt like extricating a sheet of memo paper from a mountain of junk, and he shook his head. He realized that former employees or others in the periphery who had learned about the incident in the media must have gone to the police, and the sheer breadth of the incident’s direct and indirect influence sent a fresh chill up his spine.
“In ’93, at your Nagoya branch, wasn’t there a case in which the manager from the second sales division, forty years old at the time, caused an accident while driving a company car? The male victim was a member of a large crime syndicate.”
“I’m aware of that case but—”
“Following the accident, the amount that the insurance company had paid out by the end of last year was around thirty million yen, including full coverage of two years’ worth of medical treatment costs and compensation for temporary disability as well as three million in property damage to the victim’s foreign car. Your company paid him five million in consolation funds. For a mere whiplash injury, one must admit this is an exceptionally large sum, but word has it that your company actually paid closer to ten million in compensation.”
“I understand that we dealt with the aftermath of the accident appropriately after consulting with the prefectural police chief.”
“According to what I confirmed with a person at your company named Ide, manager of general affairs, there were numerous instances of harassment against the company by the syndicate to which the victim belonged regarding the construction of Hinode’s new factory in Nagoya—”
“In accordance with the local organized crime exclusion ordinance, we filed a cease-and-desist order signed by the precinct’s superintendent. I have not been informed of any further problems.”
“Well, just know that when something happens to any company, even if it’s not as large a corporation as Hinode Beer, various speculations both true and untrue emerge—like ants swarming after spilled sugar. The media companies are engaged in a fierce reporting battle as well. Of course, your company’s risk management is top-notch, so I’m sure there won’t be any leaks from the inside.”
An intimidation followed by a wisecrack. Shiroyama paid no attention to either.
“What do you think, Shiroyama-san? Didn’t something else happen other than what you have told us? A threat or blackmail regarding some specific matter—”
“No, there’s nothing.”
“You tell us nothing comes to mind at all, but from tens of thousands of publicly traded companies, the perpetrators have chosen Hinode Beer. If this were a kidnapping where the only objective was money, it could have been any one of the thirty-five board members based at your main office, but they came after you. If we are talking purely about accessibility, your circumstances make it especially difficult. To be honest, the other executives would have been much easier marks. However, the perpetrators took the risk of kidnapping you. Therefore, it’s reasonable to think—”
“I hear you, but nothing comes to mind.”
“Shiroyama-san. You must give the police an accurate account of everything that happened.”
“I told you everything I can remember.”
“It would be a different story if a child had been kidnapped. But when a grown man comes back from a kidnapping unharmed and he cannot give us a single detail to paint a clearer picture of the perpetrators, no one, I assure you—not the police, not the pub
lic—will be satisfied. And even though you were taken from in front of your own home by force and kept in confinement for fifty-six hours, you returned alone and with nary a scratch. Besides that, the perpetrators made sure to outfit you with body warming patches when they released you so that you wouldn’t freeze to death. If you don’t start talking, both you and Hinode Beer could be subject to an excessive amount of scrutiny.”
“What do you mean by scrutiny?”
“Maybe you made some kind of a deal with the perpetrators. Or maybe you planned and staged the whole kidnapping yourself. That kind of thing.”
Immediately after Shiroyama had gone into the fire department for help, he had become acutely aware that such suspicions might arise, and by the time he was back in Tokyo, he was already surrounded by disbelieving eyes on all sides. Thinking back, it was almost eerie how the perpetrators had never laid a hand on him. But those same men—the ones who had explained their financial demands and instructed him as to how he should respond to the police’s questioning—must have also obviously known beforehand what kind of public reaction would be triggered once their actions and the instructions they had given him came to light. The entire abduction, confinement, and release must have been the result of their careful calculation of the predicament in which the victim and the corporation would then find themselves. Realizing this, Shiroyama had no doubt that even sitting here now, he was still a pawn in the hands of the perpetrators. Nevertheless, he wondered what other options had really been feasible.
Lady Joker, Volume 1 Page 45
