Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  ‘If you hear from Namie, you call this number. Ask for “the electrician”.’

  ‘And your name?’

  ‘Knowing my name isn’t going to do you any good.’ The man stood.

  ‘What if we choose not to call?’ Ryo asked.

  The man smiled and breathed out through his nose. ‘Why would you do something stupid like that?’

  ‘Namie might not want us to.’

  ‘Listen.’ The man pointed at Ryo’s chest. ‘There’s nothing in it for you if you call us. But if you don’t call us, you stand to lose…’ He looked around the small apartment. ‘Everything. Or enough that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Any questions?’

  Ryo looked the man in the face for a moment and shook his head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Good. Glad to see you’re not an idiot,’ the man said, giving the guy in the green suit – Suzuki – a look. Suzuki left the back room and went out the front door.

  The man pulled out his wallet and handed a ten-thousand-yen bill to Tomohiko. ‘Make sure he gets that hand looked at.’

  Tomohiko’s fingers trembled as he took the money. The man chuckled, a deep, ugly sound.

  Once they were gone, Tomohiko locked the door and fastened the chain. He turned around to Ryo. ‘You OK?’

  Ryo went into the back room without answering and opened the curtain.

  Tomohiko walked over beside him and looked outside. A black Mercedes was sitting out in front of their apartment building. A moment passed, and the men emerged from the building. The big man and the one named Suzuki got in the back, and the man in the overalls got in the driver’s seat.

  Once the Mercedes had left, Ryo said, ‘Try calling Namie.’

  Tomohiko picked up the phone on the dining room table. He tried her apartment. The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered. He put the receiver back down and shook his head.

  ‘I guess if she were at home, they wouldn’t be coming here looking for her,’ Ryo said.

  ‘Does that mean she’s not at the bank either?’ Tomohiko wondered out loud.

  ‘Maybe she took the day off,’ Ryo said, opening up the door of the mini refrigerator and pulling out an ice tray. He dumped the ice into the sink, and picked a single cube.

  ‘Your hand OK?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Who were they? Yakuza?’

  ‘That’s a safe bet.’

  ‘What does Namie have to do with the yakuza?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Ryo said, picking up a fresh piece of ice. The first had already melted to water in his palm. ‘You should probably go home, Tomohiko. Give me a call if you find anything out.’

  ‘What’re you going to do?’

  ‘I’m staying here tonight. Namie might try to call.’

  ‘I should stay —’

  ‘Go home,’ Ryo said immediately. ‘They might’ve left somebody to watch. If we both stay here, they’ll start to wonder what we’re up to.

  He was right.

  ‘You think something happened at the bank?’

  Ryo shrugged. He poked at the burn on his left hand and winced.

  It was already past dinner time when Tomohiko got home. His father was in the TV room watching a baseball game, and his younger sister was in her own room.

  Tomohiko’s parents had very little to say about the way Tomohiko lived his life. They were happy that their son had got into the electrical engineering department at a well-known university and that he seemed to be paying attention in class and getting good marks, unlike many of his peers. He had explained his work with Ryo by telling them that he had a part-time job at a computer shop.

  His mom put out some fish, vegetables, stewed meat and miso soup for him. Tomohiko got his own rice. He wondered what Ryo would be doing for dinner that night.

  Though they had known each other for three years, Tomohiko knew very little about Ryo’s upbringing and family. About the only thing he did know was that Ryo’s father used to run a pawnshop, and that he died when Ryo was still young. He didn’t think he had any siblings. His mother was still alive, but it was unclear whether he was living with her. Nor did he have any close friends, at least as far as Tomohiko was aware.

  The same went for Namie Nishiguchi. They entrusted her with the accounting side of their business, but never talked much about her private life. He knew that she worked at a bank, but didn’t even know what she did there.

  And now yakuza were looking for her.

  He wondered what that was all about.

  Tomohiko finished his dinner and was about to go up to his room when he heard the news on the television start. The ball game was over.

  ‘A middle-aged man was found bleeding from a stab wound to the chest around eight o’clock this morning,’ the newscaster was saying. ‘A passer-by discovered the man and notified the police. The man, identified as a Mr Mikio Makabe, was taken to the hospital, but died of his wounds shortly after arriving. Witnesses reported seeing a suspicious male carrying a large knife in the area just before the attack. Police are now in pursuit of the man as a suspect in the stabbing. Mr Makabe had been on his way to work at the Taiko Bank’s Showa branch not more than one hundred metres from the place he was found. Next —’

  Everything up to that part had made Tomohiko think that it was just another random mugging – they’d been on the rise recently. But when he heard the name of the bank branch, he froze. That’s where Namie works. Tomohiko went into the hallway and picked up the phone. He hammered the buttons, his heart racing.

  Ryo didn’t pick up at the office. Tomohiko let it ring ten times before hanging up.

  He thought for a moment, then went into the living room to watch the news on the off-chance there might be an update on the stabbing. He sat down next to his dad, feigning interest in the other news stories so his dad wouldn’t start talking to him about his ‘future’. The news was almost over when the phone rang, jolting Tomohiko to his feet. ‘I’ll get it,’ he called, running into the hallway.

  ‘Sonomura residence.’

  ‘It’s me.’

  ‘I just tried calling you,’ Tomohiko said, lowering his voice.

  ‘You see the news?’

  ‘Yeah. What’s it mean?’

  ‘It’ll take too long to explain over the phone. Think you can get out?’

  ‘What?’ Tomohiko glanced back at the living room. ‘You mean now?’

  ‘Yeah, now.’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good. We need to talk about Namie.’

  ‘You hear from her?’ Tomohiko asked, gripping the receiver.

  ‘She’s sitting right next to me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. Just come, quick. And not to the office…’ Ryo gave him the name of a hotel and a room number.

  Tomohiko swallowed. It was the same hotel where he used to meet Yuko Hanaoka, the older woman he’d dated in high school.

  ‘Be right there,’ he said. He repeated the room number to himself and hung up.

  He was still in time to catch the train. It was a route burned into his memory. Yuko had been his first, and for a long time after, his only. He hadn’t even kissed another girl until hooking up with a classmate at a party last year.

  Once inside the hotel he made straight for Room 2015.

  ‘Who’s there?’ came Ryo’s voice from inside.

  ‘The Kyoto Alien,’ Tomohiko replied. It was the title of one of their poorer-selling computer games.

  Ryo opened the door. He looked tired, with stubble on his chin. He indicated for Tomohiko to come into the small, twin room.

  There was a table and two chairs by the window. Namie was sitting in one of the chairs.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. She was smiling, but she looked tired, too.

  ‘Evening,’ Tomohiko replied and sat down on the nearest bed, its sheets still perfectly smooth. ‘Right, so…’ He looked up at Ryo. ‘What’s going on?’

  Ryo had his hands in both pockets of his cotton trou
sers as he leaned up against the wall by the table.

  ‘Namie called about an hour after you left. She said she couldn’t work for us any more, so she wanted to return our ledger and documents. She’s running.’

  Tomohiko looked over at her. ‘This have something to do with the guy at your bank who got killed?’

  ‘Something,’ Ryo said. ‘It wasn’t Namie who killed him, by the way.’

  ‘I didn’t think it was,’ Tomohiko said, though the possibility had crossed his mind for a second.

  ‘Apparently that honour goes to one of the fine gentleman who paid us a visit,’ Ryo told him.

  Tomohiko swallowed. ‘Why?’

  Namie sat silently with her head drooping. Ryo glanced in her direction, then turned back to Tomohiko. ‘Remember the big guy with the navy blue jacket? His name’s Enomoto. Namie was… helping him out.’

  ‘You mean with money?’

  ‘Yeah, money. But not her own. She was using the bank’s online system to siphon money into his account.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘She doesn’t know exactly how much. Some of the bigger transfers were in the two million range, though. And that went on for over a year.’

  ‘You can just do that?’ Tomohiko asked Namie.

  She didn’t look up.

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Ryo answered on her behalf. ‘But it’s not foolproof. Someone caught wind of it. Makabe.’

  ‘The guy on the news.’

  Ryo nodded. ‘Except he didn’t know Namie was behind it when he brought it to her attention. So Namie told Enomoto someone was on to him. Well, Enomoto didn’t like losing his golden-egg-laying goose, so he called in a hit.’

  Tomohiko’s heart was thudding in his chest.

  ‘The good news,’ said Ryo, ‘is that Namie’s involvement never came to light. The bad news is: this Makabe guy’s dead and it’s basically her fault.’

  Namie’s shoulders were shaking. She was crying.

  ‘Couldn’t you have put it a little nicer?’ asked Tomohiko.

  ‘No point trying to paint it any other way.’

  ‘Yeah, but —’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Namie said. She looked up. There was determination in her eyes. ‘It’s the truth, anyway. Ryo’s right.’

  ‘Which is why Namie realised she needed to cut ties with Enomoto,’ Ryo explained, pointing to where two suitcases sat, both bulging. ‘Now they’re after her. If she disappears, they killed Makabe for nothing. That, and Enomoto needs more money, apparently. She was supposed to send it over today around noon.’

  ‘He’s got a few businesses he’s running. But none of them are doing very well,’ Namie muttered.

  ‘So why’d you help him in the first place?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter now, does it,’ Ryo said, frowning.

  Tomohiko scratched his head. ‘OK, then, what are we going to do?’

  ‘We’re going to get her out of here,’ Ryo said. ‘Problem is, we don’t exactly know where to, yet. If she stays, Enomoto or the police will track her down eventually. So I’m going to find a place today or tomorrow where she can stay for an extended period of time.’

  ‘You think you can?’

  ‘I have to,’ Ryo said, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Namie said. ‘Sorry to both of you. If the police catch me, I promise I won’t tell them you helped.’

  ‘You got money?’ Tomohiko asked.

  ‘Enough,’ she said. There was a bit of hesitation in her voice.

  ‘That’s where Namie’s a genius,’ Ryo said, beer in hand. ‘She saw this day coming, and set up no fewer than five secret personal accounts, funnelling money away to each of them. It’s impressive.’

  ‘It’s not something I’m proud of,’ Namie said, putting a hand to her forehead.

  ‘Having money is better than not having it,’ Tomohiko said.

  ‘Truth,’ Ryo said, taking a gulp of his beer.

  ‘So what should I do?’ Tomohiko asked, looking between the two.

  Ryo fixed Tomohiko with a stare. ‘I want you stay here for two days with her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We can’t let her go outside. Someone has to go shopping for her. You’re the only one I can ask.’

  ‘OK, I guess.’ Tomohiko brushed back his hair and looked over at Namie. She returned his glance. Her need was plain to see in her face. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’m on it.’

  For food on Saturday, Tomohiko brought some boxed bento lunches he had bought in a department store food court back to the hotel room. They contained an assortment of rice and vegetables, broiled fish, and fried chicken. He used some of the hotel teabags to make green tea and they ate at the small table. ‘Sorry you have to eat this stuff,’ Namie said. ‘You could just eat at a restaurant or something, you know.’

  ‘Nah,’ Tomohiko said, ‘I’d rather eat here with you than eat alone. And these bento boxes aren’t that bad.’

  ‘They aren’t, are they,’ Namie said, smiling.

  When they’d finished eating, Tomohiko pulled some pudding he’d bought out of the refrigerator. Namie gave him a girlish smile.

  ‘You’re very thoughtful, you know. You’ll make a good husband someday.’

  ‘You think?’ Tomohiko grinned as he took a mouthful of his pudding.

  ‘You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?’

  ‘No. I had one last year for a while, but we broke up. Which is to say, she dumped me.’

  ‘Really, why was that?’

  ‘She said she liked guys who knew how to have fun. I guess I was too quiet for her.’

  ‘Well, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ Namie said, shaking her head. Then, just as suddenly, she chuckled. ‘Not that I’m qualified to say anything about anyone’s love life,’ she said, exploring the surface of her pudding with the tip of her spoon.

  After a moment she looked up. ‘You’re wondering about Enomoto, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘Why did I get tangled up with him?’

  ‘Hey, it’s none of my business —’

  ‘No, it’s OK. It’s a ridiculous story anyway,’ Namie said, setting down her half-eaten cup of pudding. ‘Got any smokes?’

  ‘Just Mild Sevens. The light ones, with the filter.’

  ‘That’ll do.’

  She took a cigarette from him, lit it, and took a deep drag. The white smoke curled up into the air.

  ‘About a year and half ago, I got into a little bit of an accident with my car,’ she began, looking out the window. ‘It was just a scrape. And it wasn’t exactly my fault, either. Except I could have picked a better van to run into.’