A brittle, hollow sound.
She was still on the ground, clasping her head in her hands, when I walked slowly over to her.
“Excuse me, miss?”
First she was bewildered; then, after a moment, she recognized me. She scowled in astonishment.
“You?”
She scrambled to her feet, pulling the sides of her coat shut over her chest, stepped back and turned sideways to me.
“What’s going on? What are you doing here?”
I picked up the plastic jar. She wrenched it out of my hands, her face on the verge of tears.
“Listen, I … uh … owe you an apology. The truth is, I’ve been coming to the diner because I knew some things about you. Like that man who came out of here just now—he’s from Kinoshita Construction, isn’t he?”
Her scowl grew fiercer.
“What business is that of yours?”
“There’s something I’ve got to tell you. It’s about your father.”
The girl’s chin jerked upward and her long hair billowed around her head. She spun around, shoving me backward as she did so, pulled the door open, and jumped back inside. As she pulled the door shut behind her, I tried to wedge my foot inside, but she was too quick.
“Miss Nakagawa, you’ve got to hear me out.”
I was banging on the door now. It made a distinctive dull thud I recognized—steel plate over a paper core. The door must have been quite new: there was almost no give in the rubber seal of the aluminum doorframe, and none of the normal rattling.
“Miss Nakagawa, please. Open up. I’ve got to talk to you.”
I knew she was standing just on the other side of the door. I could feel her there.
“Please, Miss Nakagawa. It’s not the sort of thing we can talk about here on the doorstep.”
The door flew open and smacked me on the forehead. Fireworks exploded somewhere behind my eyes. Green ones.
“Damn, that really hurt.”
“Keep the noise down. The neighbors’ll complain.”
Peering down through the one eye I could still open, I saw a bar of white light lying across my feet. When I looked up, I found the girl glaring at me through the partially opened door.
She shivered.
“Okay, I get the message. I’ll get changed and then I’ll let you in. Wait there.”
She slammed the door shut. I heard the key turning in the lock and the chain being slid into place.
I picked up the plastic jar.
It was cracked, and a piece of the lip had snapped off.
* * *
Ten minutes later, she opened the door and let me in.
I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about me, so when she gestured for me to take a seat at the table, I sat on the floor, my back against the wall, in the formal seiza position, my heels tucked under my bottom. The room itself was so small, where and how I sat probably didn’t make much difference.
The girl was wearing jeans and a knit jersey; for some reason, she looked physically bigger here than she did at the restaurant. Maybe she felt more real to me here in her own room. I don’t know.
I told her my name and that I’d worked for a while with her dad on a building job. It was a lie, but I was worried that things might get too emotional, too fast, if told her what we really had in common.
I began by telling her that there were some pretty ugly rumors swirling around Kinoshita Construction and that her father’s accident wasn’t the first of its kind. I asked her if her father had any debts. She didn’t say anything to that, so I put forward my theories about what the company was up to. Most of it was based on what happened to my dad and me. From her reaction, it looked like I was on target.
I was careful not to move too fast. It wasn’t easy, but I just kept talking, slow and steady, until she began to believe me.
“He started out by saying that Kinoshita Construction would take care of me,” she explained. “Because Dad was working for them when he died.”
Apparently, Makio Tobe had found her new apartment for her and handled the move. She’d been wary at first, but in the end it was thanks to him that she’d been able to put her life back together, she said.
“The company had insured my father’s life for fifteen million yen. Tobe said that the money could cover all my school fees, and my living expenses for quite a while too.”
School, in her case, meant beauty school; she was studying hairdressing.
“The minute I moved in here, his whole attitude changed. He said that all the money from the insurance money had gone to pay back what my dad owed and that he couldn’t give me a red cent. He told me that I owed him—for the deposit and the key money for this place, plus my moving expenses and the fees for two terms of school. Well over a million yen, all told.”
“That’s a fortune.”
She smiled sadly.
“Learning to be a hairdresser’s an expensive business, you know. We have to buy all our own equipment—combs, brushes, scissors, whatever—and the school I go to is private, so tuition there costs way more than at a public school. The fees are more than a million a year. The rent here’s over ninety thousand, but I haven’t got the money to move out now. Dad only had thirty thousand yen in the bank when he died.”
She tilted her head and stared up at the blank white ceiling. She was trying to blink back the tears. It didn’t work. They streamed from her eyes and slid down her cheeks to her throat. I stared at her long, white neck; at the straight black hair that tumbled onto her shoulders.
“Tobe told me that Kinoshita Construction wouldn’t be able to take care of me after all and that he needed me to sign all these documents acknowledging responsibility for my father’s debts. Then he dumped all these bits of paper on the table and yelled at me to sign. I was terrified. I knew that signing anything would only make things worse for me, so I said no. And that’s when—”
Her body was racked by a sob.
“That’s when he told me to strip. ‘Take all your clothes off for me right here, right now, and I’ll cancel all your debts and take care of you till you graduate.’”
I didn’t want to catch her eye, so I looked off into the corner.
“I’ve dreamed of becoming a hairdresser since I was a girl. Dad always encouraged me. I didn’t want to lose that dream, so … fuck it, what’s it matter anyway? It’s not like it cost me anything to do it. I’ve got no boyfriend … nobody who cares.”
She was clasping the edge of the table. She lowered her head onto her little bunched fists and wailed.
I didn’t know what to do. I just sat there quietly as my legs went numb beneath me.
Maybe I should have gone around the table, put my arm around her shoulders, told her that everything was okay. I was pretty sure she’d shove me aside and tell me to get my hands off. She’d be right. Nothing was really okay.
Not helping her wasn’t an option, though. My mind was made up. I knew that Kinoshita Construction had set up her father’s death to pay off his debts. I knew that Tobe had then exploited the situation to take advantage of her. I racked my brains: how could I help her escape from the awful situation she was in?
“You’ve got to stop.”
Her sobbing let up a moment, then redoubled in force. It was almost a retching sound.
“You mustn’t let him come here anymore.”
I felt like I was getting through. She’d stopped sobbing now and was breathing heavily.
“I can probably help you with the money side of things. There’s this old guy, Mr. Takaoka. He’s got my back. He’s kind of like a father to me. I’ll talk to him. And I’ve got savings of my own too. You said a million yen, right? I’m sure we can raise that much.”
She lifted her head, slowly and unsteadily, and looked right at me. Her breathing had normalized. There was an icy smile on her face.
“You goddamn hypocrite!”
What was she talking about?
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what kind of gir
l I am,” she sneered. “That I’ll fuck anyone—for money.”
She cackled wildly.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Did I misunderstand you? You don’t think I’m worth the money? That I’m overselling myself?”
“I never said that.”
“But that’s what you mean. You fork out the money and I dump Tobe and become your sex friend instead. Hey, I’m cool with it. At least you could pass as my boyfriend. If you’re going to pay me, then come on, let’s have a party right now.”
The girl crossed her arms in front of her and grabbed hold of the hem of her jumper.
“What the hell are you doing?”
With a single deft movement, she peeled the jumper over her head and threw it to one side.
Under the cold white fluorescent light, her skin looked as white and fragile as a sheet of paper. There was something pitiful about the tiny breasts beneath the pink bra.
Her hands moved to the belt in the waistband of her jeans.
“How about a quick fuck? If you like the goods, we can formalize our little arrangement. If you don’t, then it’s no obligation, no commitment.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“Don’t worry. This is my life. You don’t need to play Mr. Nice Guy with me. I know I’m not supermodel material.”
“Stop it, please.”
I got to my feet, pulled the duvet off the bed behind her, and draped it around her skinny body. As I did so, I noticed several fresh stains on the sheet on the bed.
Looking away, I wrapped the girl in my arms.
“I like you, but not in that way. Anyway, you’ve got to stop saying those things.”
She was like a kitten in my arms: a soft, warm bundle of fragile bones.
“I was lucky. I had Takaoka. When my dad died, the old man was there to help me out. You—you’ve got no one. Tobe’s a scumbag. He’s not what you need.”
A hand emerged from a gap in the duvet. The nails, I noticed, were cut short. The fingers crawled questioningly over the cloth until they reached my arm.
“You’re so warm,” she said.
At that moment her alarm clock went off. I’ll never forget the sound.
* * *
The girl never knew when Tobe would come round. Her phone would ring suddenly in the evening and it was him, announcing that he was heading her way and she should be at home for him. He didn’t care if she was supposed to be working or had a school assignment to do. Once, she’d got back late and kept him waiting outside; he’d bitch-slapped her to teach her a lesson.
After the night we spoke, I went round to her place every day as soon as work was over.
“You must be really into her,” the old man said after I told him I’d got a girlfriend. I didn’t say anything about her connection with Kinoshita Construction. The last thing I wanted to do was to worry the old man.
“Is it the girl at the diner?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s a nice girl?”
“I guess she is.”
“Good to hear there are some of them around.”
I wanted to introduce them to one another. Not yet, though. Not yet.
“I know I’m jumping the gun here, but are you guys thinking of getting married?”
Although we weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend yet, I’d already made up my mind.
“I’d like that, yeah, at some point.… Haven’t said anything to her though. I mean, she’s a student. We’ll have to wait a few years.”
“What about her parents?”
“They’re both dead.”
When he asked me her name, I pretended I was too embarrassed to tell him. In fact, I was just worried that he might figure out the link between Michiko Nakagawa and Noboru Nakagawa, the dead construction worker.
“Okay, son, I understand. You can introduce us properly when you feel that the time is right.”
“Will do, boss. Okay, got to run.”
As soon as work was over, I’d go back to my place, have a quick shower, jump back in the car and head for her apartment. She was usually in when I got there.
“I’m coming. Oh, you poor thing. It’s freezing out there.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Going over to her place became a part of my routine. If she hadn’t rustled something up for dinner, we’d eat out nearby. After dinner, I’d drive her to the diner. Sometimes I’d call it a night and go home; often I’d go to and collect her at the end of her shift and drive her back home.
Sometimes we’d walk instead of taking the car. Now and then she’d link arms with me. I never pushed for anything more. I didn’t want anything to start between us until the Tobe business had been properly sorted out.
* * *
That day came sooner than I had expected.
December 3. It was a depressing day. It had been drizzling for hours.
“Hi, this is Michiko here.”
I’d just got in from work when she called. A desperate note in her voice told me everything I needed to know.
“He called?”
“Yes. He’s coming here at seven. Kosuke, I’m afraid.”
I looked at my watch. It was six thirty.
“I’m on my way over. Don’t let him in, whatever you do.”
“I know. Please be quick.”
“I’ll be right there. Promise.”
I ended the call, dashed out to the parking lot, and jumped into my car.
Keep cool. You’ve got plenty of time.
To calm myself, I repeated the phrase like a mantra throughout the drive.
I normally left the car in a parking lot around the corner, but that night I parked right in front of her building. It was the right thing to do. Tobe was already there, banging on Michiko’s door.
I grabbed something from the glove box and ran toward him.
“Open the fucking door, woman,” he was yelling. “You’ll be sorry.”
Since pummeling the door with his fists wasn’t having much effect, Tobe switched to kicking it. That was when I charged him.
He grunted, staggered to one side and crashed to the ground.
“What the fuck! Who the fuck are you, punk?”
I placed myself between him and the door.
“Don’t come round here again. Out of here. Scram.”
Tobe blinked and peered up at me through the drizzle. He dragged himself slowly back onto his feet. He wobbled once but managed to keep his balance.
I took a step toward him.
“Did you hear what I said? Don’t come around here no more. Using the profits from an insurance swindle to get your hooks into a dead man’s daughter—you make me sick.”
Tobe inspected me with curiosity.
“You’re very well-informed, you fucking know-it-all.”
“Yes, I do know it all. You know why? Because you gave me some money too: a hundred thousand yen. I needed it. I was grateful. I had no idea about all the double-dealing dishonest shit that lay behind it. You dirty, greedy little rat. What was your cut? One million? Two?”
His eyes suddenly widened.
“Hah! I know you. You’re the kid who works with Ken Takaoka.”
“Real quick on the uptake, aren’t we. Booze addled your brains?”
“You said one hundred thousand yen, right? Are you … are you … that little kid?”
“Bravo, full marks. Maybe you’ve got a couple of brain cells left after all.”
Tobe’s shoulders began to shake. He was laughing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. You’re telling me that you’ve got the hots for that piece of skirt in there?”
I didn’t reply. Talking with him about her would only soil our relationship.
“Damn it, boy. The girl’s a whore. A million yen was all it took for her to spread her legs and, hey, presto, pussy on tap for yours truly. What’s to like in a cheap slut like that?”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, I’ve got it: it�
��s that bristling bush on that scrawny body of hers. Turns you on, huh?”
I felt like something caught in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Or speak.
“Every time I come around to ride the bitch she starts out blubbing—and then ends up moaning like a fucking porn star. ‘Ooh! Aah! Ooh! Aah!’ Her tits aren’t up to much, but her nipples—they stand up like soldiers and just fucking beg for it.”
The bastard! The total bastard!
“Let’s try it doggy style, I say, and she rolls right over and wags her little butt in my face. You had her that way yet? Up the shitter? She fucking loves it, man.”
Suddenly I could breathe again. I heard myself roaring. The sound came from somewhere deep inside of me and burst out of my throat.
I pulled the iron bar out from under my waistband, lunged forward in a half squat and swung it as hard as I could at Tobe’s shins.
He went down again with a crash. I kicked him. Stomped all over him. Called him every name I could think of.
“Stop it, please stop!”
Tobe was sprawling on the ground. His clothes were soaked through. He was trying to grovel with his forehead pressed on the ground to let me that know I’d well and truly defeated him. Except I wouldn’t let him.
* * *
It was Michiko who made me snap out if it.
“That’s enough. Stop or you’ll kill him. Then you’ll be in serious trouble.”
Tobe was squatting on the ground like a school kid cowering under the desk in earthquake drill. He was shivering and laughing all at the same time.
2
Since the evening meeting of December 9, Reiko had been trying to make sense of everything.
There was the fake Kenichi Takaoka who was actually Kazutoshi Naito. There was Makio Tobe, the insurance fraudster and serial womanizer. Somewhere in the background, there was the Tajima-gumi, part of the Yamato-kai Syndicate, and their front company, the Nakabayashi Group.
There were the two young people who had been deprived of their fathers by Kinoshita Construction: Kosuke Mishima and Michiko Nakagawa. And then there was Kimie Naito and her nephew, Yuto Naito, who was in fact Kazutoshi’s birth son.
Soul Cage--A Mystery Page 19
