He nodded. He never did hold my hand, but as we walked home he gripped the edge of my coat again.
“First, buy some clothes. Some decent clothes.”
18 Wearing a black coat, I stood at the edge of the platform and watched Yonezawa.
I checked that the knife was still in my pocket and pretended to be reading a newspaper. He scowled at some laughing children. When a woman walked by he followed her with his eyes. Finally he looked down and started to walk. He bumped into a businessman but kept going without an apology. When the train arrived I got into the same carriage as him. It was full, though not so full that people were jammed together. I positioned myself a little away from him, continuing to read my paper. He leaned against the doors of the swaying train, his arms hanging loosely by his sides.
At Ikebukuro a lot of people got off but even more got on. A group of high school girls in sportswear piled on at the last minute and the carriage grew crowded. Maybe now, I thought, folding my paper and moving closer to Yonezawa. But he was moving slowly towards the girls, frowning and clicking his tongue in disapproval. He stood out like a sore thumb as he forced his way through the packed car. When he got close to the girls, he stopped and glared at them. Didn’t open his mouth, didn’t touch them, just stood next to them, staring.
I thought that if I moved he’d see me, so I waited till the next station. Not many passengers got on or off. I inched closer to Yonezawa until I was right behind him. One of the hemmed-in high school girls was squirming in discomfort. I pinched the material on the left side of his coat between my fingers. His body jerked as the girl tried to put her bag up as a barrier between herself and him. At that moment I slowly cut his jacket from top to bottom. The opening didn’t reach his inside pocket, however. I exhaled softly. The air in the carriage was thick and I was getting hot.
He looked at the schoolbag between them and seemed to give up, contenting himself with scowling. He started touching his collar. It could only be a matter of seconds before he looked down and spotted the slit. Holding my breath, which had been quickening, I stretched out my left foot and kicked one of the girls lightly on the leg. She jumped, yelped and turned slowly to look at Yonezawa. His skinny frame trembled in surprise and I slid the knife back into the side of his coat. Lifting the fabric with my fingers, I began to cut his inside pocket, slicing it little by little with the tip of the blade. I spread my fingers, holding the knife between with my thumb and index finger and pinching the envelope between my middle and ring fingers. A shiver ran from my fingers up to my shoulder. Ignoring my nervousness, I pulled it out. I could see out of the corner of my eye that the envelope was quite different from the dummy I was to replace it with. Worse and worse, I thought, with a sinking feeling. The girl turned away again, perhaps out of fear, and before I knew it the train arrived at Shinjuku.
Watching Yonezawa as he walked ahead of me on the platform, I took out the envelope. The fake was green and white, but this was an ordinary brown one. My hands were shaking slightly, but when I held it up to the light I could see another envelope inside. I opened the brown envelope and removed the second, which was green and white with a company name printed on it, just like the dummy. I sighed with relief. Overall, however, it was battered and discolored. The difference between it and the dummy, still clean and new, was obvious. Massive buildings loomed all round the platform. Baffled, head aching, I trailed after Yonezawa. He went out the east exit and joined the crowds outside. When he spied a group of loudly dressed women, he stopped. Then he turned round and our eyes almost met. I went back into the station, bought a can of coffee from a kiosk and leaned against the glass by the entrance, my back to the street. After a few deep breaths I opened my cell phone and punched in Yonezawa’s number, which I had written on a piece of paper. Sweat trickled down my jaw.
I could see him in the distance in the square outside Alta. He seemed to be talking to himself, because the people around him were staring in astonishment. He looked around, pawing at the side of his jacket. Soon he noticed the ringing and stuck his hand in his pocket. When he answered the phone he was panting.
“Yonezawa?” I said quietly.
He didn’t reply.
“I said, is that Yonezawa? Answer me.”
“Who is this?”
“Have you lost an envelope?”
He snarled something unintelligible. With his phone still clamped to his ear he started walking in my direction, then stopped and studied the people in the square. I wasn’t keen on doing business up close with a man who carried a gun.
“You can look as much as you like. I’m nowhere nearby. I’m watching you from a building with binoculars.”
“Who are you?”
“That’s not important.”
He was getting closer to me. I stepped back from the glass, which was steaming up. A man who I guessed was a plain-clothes detective crossed swiftly in front of me.
“You know it’s not normal to walk around with things sewn inside your coat. Some people asked me to get my hands on this. But they’re not exactly guys I can trust to pay me, so I’ve got a better idea. I heard I could turn this into cash. I’m guessing you need it, right? I don’t know why such an uninteresting envelope is so important. If you want it back, you’ll answer my questions.”
“Are you with the company? Or one of Yada’s?”
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Several people were looking at him as he paced the area, still dragging one leg slightly. I went into the station and through into the department store next door.
“Answer the questions.”
“Shit. I knew it.”
“What?”
“I just knew someone was after me. Motherfuckers! This is exactly why I haven’t liked going out.”
“If you’re just going to talk crap, I’ll throw it away.”
That shut him up.
I went into the toilets and locked myself in a cubicle.
“First, tell me what’s in the envelope.”
“No fucking way.”
“Why not?”
“They’ll kill me. Give it back. Please!”
“I’ll burn it.”
Again he said something I couldn’t make out.
“I’m begging you, goddammit. Give it back!”
“It’s a bit damp now.”
“Huh?”
“I spilled some coffee. If you don’t talk to me soon, the papers inside will be ruined.”
I dribbled some coffee into my hand and rubbed it very lightly over the surface of the envelope.
“Stop!”
“Aw, it’s all dirty now. This is fun.”
“All right! I’ll pay you.”
“Now I’m folding it.”
“Listen! It’s no use to you. There are channels you have to go through. You won’t even be able to do anything with it. I’ll pay you. Three hundred thousand yen.”
“It’s falling to bits.”
“Okay, five hundred thousand. That’s all I have. I bet that’s more than they’re giving you.”
I crushed the corners of the envelope and compared the dummy with the original. Now the fake was even grubbier than the real one. If you looked closely the seal in the center was at a slightly different angle, but it was in almost exactly the same place.
“All right, I guess I’ll have to take your offer. I could use the money just now.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“If you’re going to talk like that I really will throw it away.”
It was probably already safe to hand it over, but if I made it too easy he might get suspicious about the envelope. I left the toilets and walked past several people. Returning to the station, I climbed the steps to the east entrance.
“Go and get the money from the bank. Then put it in one of the coin lockers in front of the ticket gate for the Yamanouchi line at the east entrance. There’s a vending machine next to the kiosk. Put the key where you take o
ut the cans, on the right side. I don’t know why, but there are lots of plain-clothes cops around today. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Cops?”
“It doesn’t matter. Don’t even think about watching to see who comes to open the locker. Go straight back to the square and stand somewhere I can see you. I’m watching you. When I know that you’re back outside, I’ll put the envelope in the same locker and the key back in the same place. Easy.”
“How do I know I can trust you? We should make the exchange face to face.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
I hung up. When I went out the east exit I could see Yonezawa in the distance, still clutching his cell phone. He walked off and I followed him with my eyes, keeping a wide gap between us. He went into a bank.
I changed direction and lit a cigarette in the smoking area outside Alta, thinking that it had been a long time since my last one. When I looked up a news flash was being shown on the big screen. A politician had been shot while he was making a speech on the west side of Shinjuku Station. The people on the street were panicking, and the announcer was speaking as gravely as if he’d been shot himself.
Yonezawa came back from the bank and crossed the street at the crosswalk, heading toward the east entrance of the station, but when he saw all the people standing there he turned around and looked up at the screen, not moving. I averted my gaze and kept on smoking. I waited until he started walking again and followed him, keeping well back.
He opened the coin locker and put something inside, then bought a drink from the vending machine. Seeing that he was scanning his surroundings, I went outside again. It was some time before he appeared at the exit again. He stood in the middle of the square and looked around. I looped back to the station and phoned him. After telling him to come to collect the envelope in ten minutes, I hung up. A tall man who looked like a cop passed right beside me with a cell phone in his hand. He disappeared into the crush, shouting.
When I took the key from the vending machine and opened the locker, a bank envelope was inside. I checked it and there was no doubt it held money. I replaced it with the dummy, bought a coffee from the machine and put the key inside as I took out the can.
Suddenly my strength deserted me and I wanted to sit down right where I was, but I had to keep watch until he collected the envelope. Unless he took it without realizing that the papers had been stolen—in other words, unless he thought the fake was the real thing—this whole exchange was pointless. I kept an eye out, staying well back and hiding in the crowd, until I saw Yonezawa. He opened the locker and inspected the envelope. My heart beat faster, but he put it in his pocket without a second glance. I phoned him.
“Did you get it?”
He didn’t answer straight away.
“Are you there?”
“It’s filthy. A total mess.”
I figured that so far he hadn’t worked it out.
“It’s your own fault. I always do what I say I’m going to. I could have kept it and done a runner, but that sounds like asking for trouble. In fact I’m doing you a favor. You should be grateful.”
“One day I’ll find you and kill you.”
“Try it.”
I ended the call and my body went limp. I was dying for a smoke but I realized that several people had turned to look at something behind me. Yonezawa had seized a young man’s hand in front of the lockers. The youth, who was holding a cell phone, was untidy and toting a large bag, as though he was traveling by himself.
I could have made my escape, but I thought of Yonezawa roaming around with a gun. I rang him right away, moving nearer. At that instant, however, he seemed to look straight at me, even though we were still a long way apart. I turned away but I could sense him drawing closer. My pulse began to race. I thought about cutting the call, but if the noise stopped just as I was fiddling with my phone it would be a dead giveaway that I was the one on the other end.
I slipped the phone into my pocket, still ringing, and faded back into the crowd. Every time I looked around his eyes met mine. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him clawing his way through the throng like a madman. Just as I climbed the stairs, acting casual and thinking that it would be worse if I ran, he reached my side and grabbed my arm. When I felt his fingers, I gasped. My throat went dry.
“It’s you?”
“Huh?”
He was breathing heavily.
“Where’s the money?”
I assumed a puzzled expression, but my heart was beating faster than ever.
“The envelope was there, but that was mine in the first place. Give me the money, quickly! And don’t make a fuss.”
He pressed against me and jabbed something into my gut. I knew without looking that it was a gun. The face that had made such an unpleasant impression on me when I first saw it in the photo was right there in front of me. I had a brief image of Kizaki, and it felt like Ishikawa and Saeko were watching me from nearby.
“Stop it, please.”
“I’ve seen you somewhere. I’m sure of it. I know it’s you. It must be.”
A few heads started to turn in our direction but no one was paying us any particular attention. Yonezawa’s phone kept on ringing like some kind of rite. His eyes bulged and he was sweating profusely. I tried to remain calm, but in those circumstances it would have been unnatural not to be shocked.
“I’m sorry if I’ve done something.”
“Have I got it wrong? Fuck. I’ll kill that guy. Where is he? No, it’s got to be you. If it’s not you I’m fucked.”
He was spraying flecks of saliva as he spoke. He started searching the pockets of my coat. I wondered if I should admit it was me and return the money, but considering his deranged state and the possibility that he might find the real envelope, it seemed too dangerous. In spite of the risk of being shot, I thought about trying to escape. At that instant, however, someone caught him by the arm.
“You can’t get away from Mr. Yada,” said the stranger. “But you made it a fair way. You’re Yonezawa. Found you at last.”
Yonezawa suddenly punched him, spun around and sprinted off through the curious crowd. I had no idea what was going on and I thought that fleeing was my only option as well, but the guy had already taken hold of my arm. Why wasn’t he going after Yonezawa? Why had he captured me? I couldn’t move. Just as I was thinking that I was done for, he squeezed my arm even tighter and showed his yellow teeth.
“You’re amazing. You really switched it. I was watching the whole time. Mr. Kizaki’s orders. The situation has changed, so if you’d failed I would have had to kill Yonezawa straight away and get the papers. I didn’t know how you were going to do it. I thought you were about to take off and I almost killed you too. Maybe it would’ve been better if I had, because that would’ve created a disturbance and given us some cover for the hit over at the west gate.”
THE MAN AND I got in a car. Once inside he took off a light bulletproof vest. He laughed a lot, saying over and over that I was going to be a good addition to Kizaki’s gang. One of his ears was missing. Putting a dirty arm round my shoulders, he suggested we go out for a drink sometime.
My cell phone rang. It was Kizaki, of course.
“Have you given him the papers?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re cautious. That’s excellent.”
Kizaki laughed, but I still hadn’t come to terms with the new situation.
“Because I told you to hand the envelope directly to me. But it’s fine, you can give it to him.”
I did as instructed.
“To start with, come over here. Get Maejima to bring you.”
He hung up and I exhaled. There was no way I wanted to become partners with the guys who murdered Ishikawa. In my inside pocket I still had the knife I’d used to cut Yonezawa’s coat. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if I killed Kizaki with it, I thought. Obviously I’d die immediately afterwards, though. In that moment I was seized by the conviction that I didn’t want t
hat to happen. I didn’t know what was holding me back, but the fact that I was trying not to screw up meant I was still clinging to something in this world. For the time being, I turned over in my head ways I could politely refuse to join them.
When we reached the parking lot the man called Maejima let me out of the car first. His cell phone against his one ear, he told me to go to the end of the alley between the buildings and through the door. Then he returned to his cell phone conversation.
The space between the two office blocks was too narrow to be called a street, barely wide enough for two people to pass. There were no signs and I couldn’t tell what kind of companies the buildings housed. It felt ominous, but I had no choice but to go in to see Kizaki.
The passage was claustrophobic and smelled of mold. Someone was walking towards me from the other end. I started to turn back, thinking what a tight squeeze it would be, but Maejima was approaching from behind. He looked much bigger than he had before. I turned forward again, wondering why he seemed to have grown. At that moment someone opened an umbrella right in my face, and just as it hit me I felt a fierce heat in my belly. My strength vanished and I collapsed. It’s hot but it doesn’t hurt, I thought, and then I was gripped with a violent pain as though a hand was crushing my insides. My breath stopped and my body shook. I retched but nothing came out. The pain spread to my chest and next, for reasons I didn’t understand, to my arms. My vision flickered and I realized that, like it or not, I’d received a fatal blow. Dark blood was forming a pool on the concrete. I saw a pair of shoes in front of me. I tried to look up but couldn’t move.
“Hard luck.”
It was Kizaki’s voice.
“Even though you did everything perfectly, this is what happens. And you don’t know why, do you?”
Someone took hold of my coat and casually pulled it off. I was rolled over and I couldn’t breathe. The world went black. When I came to I was still in pain.
“Whether you succeeded or whether you failed, I’d already decided that you were going to die in this spot. One reason is that I need a corpse here. It’s a bit early, but an hour from now everything will be clear.”
The Thief Page 11
