Hidden Nexus

by Nick Tanner

  ‘Why was he let go?’ asked Inspector Saito again.

  This time she gave him a look that inferred that he was completely mad. ‘Because of the scandal in the papers!’

  ‘I’ve not heard about it – what scandal?’ He turned to Sergeant Mori who shrugged his shoulders in turn. It appeared the two detectives were behind the times. ‘Can you tell us about it?’

  ‘I don’t know much. I’m only the receptionist,’ she replied diffidently. ‘If you need the real story you’ll have to talk to someone higher up.’

  ‘I’ll do that, but for now I’m happy to hear what you can tell me.’ He smiled at her and she smiled back, weakly.

  ‘I don’t really know any more than I’ve told you but I do have the paper from Friday.’ She handed over the newspaper, which to a person they’d all got a copy of once the story had broken. Usually no-one would be seen dead with such an explosive tabloid in their position – certainly not in Watanabe Faction Head-quarters.

  After quickly reading through the story Saito laid the newspaper back on the counter.

  'I'm not sure I understand. This story is all about Watanabe San. How does this link with his Chief of Staff going?'

  To this question Miyazaki san reached down for another newspaper and showed it to the Inspector. This time he read though the amended version of events.

  ‘So desu ka – I see. So what was his exact role here? Kinjo!’

  ‘Well he was Chief of Staff – he organised everything.’

  ‘Including PR?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘Doesn’t sacking him over the scandal imply some guilt on Watanabe’s part?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

  ‘No. Perhaps you wouldn’t.’

  Saito paused for thought. He wasn’t sure where he was going with his questioning. It seemed to be a complete red-herring as far as the Yamada case was concerned. ‘There’s nothing else that springs to mind that might have caused… no, no it doesn’t matter.’ Saito looked up at her and smiled.

  ‘Your nose – is it painful?’ Yoko Miyazaki suddenly asked nodding to his bandage.

  In his pursuit of his enquiries Saito had almost forgotten about his own injuries. ‘A little,’ he said touching it and then quickly wishing he hadn't. It was still extremely tender. ‘I feel like it’s three times the size as it should be. I feel like a gaijin.’

  They laughed.

  ‘So aside from the scandal in the paper there’s nothing else that might have led to his sacking.’

  ‘You’d have to ask people-’

  ‘-higher up,’ said Saito finishing off her sentence. ‘You’ve been a great help. Thank you.’

  She looked back at him, half satisfied, half disbelieving.

  ‘Can I ask you something else, though? Did Watanabe san have any visitors here on the evening of the 30th?’

  She looked unsure. ‘I don’t have access to his diary. I don’t know,’ she replied simply.

  ‘But you just said he was at the Diet building at a meeting. I assumed that you do have access to his diary.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘We just need to eliminate Watanabe san or indeed anyone from within this building from our enquiry. That’s all. It’s all part of normal procedure. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Oh! Right…’ she still appeared flustered and tucked her hair nervously behind her ear.

  ‘Do you have a visitor’s book – a security record? Something like that?’

  Her eyes betrayed her and she looked down to the book tucked behind the counter.

  ‘Do you mind?’

  Saito looked over the counter and lifted up the visitor’s book leafing through until he came to the last page. He immediately noticed that a page had been torn from it. Visitors from Friday 31st onwards were recorded, before that the last recorded date was Friday 17th.

  ‘There’s a page missing here. Do you know anything about this?’

  She turned the book around and with a face of complete innocence announced that she didn’t.

  Inspector Saito’s mind was buzzing with activity now. He didn’t quite know where he was going or what the totality of his thoughts amounted to but all his suspicious instincts were on red-alert. ‘Now I want you to think quite clearly,’ he asked. ‘Did anyone come to visit last Thursday evening particularly a business man from a company called Niigata Kyubin?’

  ‘I don’t remember anyone particularly.’ Yoko Miyazaki sounded quite sullen now and definitely on the defensive.

  ‘He’d have been with a young woman, I think.’ Saito leaned in a little closer to her. He could smell her perfume, one which he suddenly realised, was surprisingly strong. He hadn’t smelt it at first. Now he wished he hadn’t. It was particularly pungent - off-putingly so. He examined her more closely and saw a woman looking back at him who was struggling with some inner conscience or an inner sense of duty. She smiled at him - a self-conscious and, somewhat, tortured smile now. A part of him felt sorry for her but her unwillingness to release what she knew was beginning to frustrate him.

  Saito leant a little closer to her again and whispered behind his hand. ‘You can tell me. It won’t go any further.’

  She glanced nervously around her as if certain that someone was listening in on their conversation, but nonetheless she still remained silent and smiled coyly back and then looked away from him and tidied a few papers that were on the counter in front of her.

  ‘Is there nothing else can you recall?’

  ‘No. Nothing else, I’m sorry,’ she said, still whispering. ‘I’m only the receptionist and I must really be getting back to my work, if you don’t mind.’

  Saito had obviously pushed her too far or stumbled into territory that she was completely unable to deal with. He thanked her all the same and was on the point of leaving when he wondered whether the building had any security cameras.

  Before she had realised what she’d done Yoko Miyazaki had indicated that there were.

  Consequently ten minutes later Inspector Saito and Sergeant Mori were sat in the cramped office of the building’s security officer – Inoue san. Both outwardly and inwardly he was engrossed in his daily paper, one of the few delights in his day, and he was less than thrilled to have to tear himself away in order to assist the police with their enquiries. He placed his newspaper down on the small table in front of him, stood up, pulled down his beige tunic and bowed towards Inspector Saito indicating that he was ready for whatever was to come, however much he might not want to comply.

  ‘I’m interested in some security tapes from last Thursday,’ began Inspector Saito. Despite Inoue’s bow Saito suspected that he was an ill-mannered man and took an instant dislike to him.

  Inoue thought for a short while. ‘We don’t keep tapes as such. Everything is digitally recorded onto these sticks-’

  ‘Tapes, sticks, I don’t mind which,’ replied Saito irritably. ‘It’s whatever was on them last Thursday that I’m interested in. Can you help?’

  The man looked unenthusiastically back.

  ‘I can take what I want, with or without your compliance,’ Inspector Saito reminded him. Inoue then turned around in his chair and thumbed down what appeared to be set of key rings hanging on a series of hooks. ‘We keep one month and then record over. Each pen-stick is for each day and whatever is on the memory of the various cameras is downloaded onto these by whoever takes the night shift,’ he explained as he selected the stick for the 30th and plugged it into his PC. ‘Several cameras are recorded on each stick. Which one are you interested in?’

  ‘The foyer will do.’

  Immediately the grainy grey image from the security camera came up on the screen and Inoue spooled through until he approached six-thirty. They watched the screen intently, fast forwarding when no-one was there, slowing it down when people either entered or exited. No-one resembling Ozawa or Yamada Eri, either entered or exited the building.

  ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right day?’ a
sked Inspector Saito. ‘It’s the 30th that we are interested in.’

  ‘Of course I have… Are you sure you’ve got the right building?’ came the surly reply.

  It was then that Sergeant Mori noticed something unusual. ‘That can’t be right though, can it? The time there, in the bottom corner, it says eight thirty. We’ve been examining a time slot that is far too late. Go back again.’

  Inoue rewound the recording as he’d been told.

  ‘Look!’ said Sergeant Mori triumphantly. ‘The recording skips from six-twenty-five to seven thirty-five. There’s a whole hour missing. Someone has tampered with your recording.’

  ‘So there is,’ Inspector Saito turned to face Inoue. ‘How do you account for that?’

  The blood had suddenly drained from Inoue’s face and his cocksure attitude quickly dissolved into one of humble apology and embarrassment. ‘I don’t know,’ he simply mumbled.

  ‘Who has access to these sticks?’ demanded Inspector Saito. ‘And who has access to this room?’

  ‘Just me and the other two security officers. We work round the clock.’

  ‘And you never leave this room.’

  ‘Not usually – except to go to the toilet and to lock the main doors.’

  ‘And how easy is it to tamper with the recordings?’

  ‘Quite easy I’d imagine,’ intervened Sergeant Mori. ‘You’d only need access to simple editing software – and the sticks of course.’

  Saito considered what he now knew. It was quite obvious that a cover up was in operation. He thanked Inoue, indicating that he might want to have words with his other colleagues and then indicated to Sergeant Mori that they were leaving.

  44 - In which Watanabe enacts a forward pike with double axel to complete a dead cat bounce

  Tuesday 4th January 3:05am

  Hiro Watanabe emerged from chairing a special meeting of the select committee for Trade and Industry satisfied that the affairs of the committee were well in order. It was a brief respite away from all his other concerns – concerns which were about to deepen.

  His mobile phone rang loudly from within his breast pocket and it was with a flourish of self-importance that he ushered his colleagues away and pressed the button to take the call.

  ‘Moshi Moshi.’

  ‘Watanabe san?’

  ‘Yes. What is it?’

  ‘It's Mitsui.'

  'And?'

  'The police have been to head-quarters-'

  ‘Oh really?' interrupted Watanabe attempting to sound calm and unconcerned but in reality suddenly thinking fast and hoping against hope that a casual enquiry was all the police were interested in. 'I wonder why that should be?’ he added, again feigning disinterest.

  'They questioned Miyazaki san.’

  ‘Questioned?’

  ‘Routine they said. They were interested in who called on you last Thursday evening but they only spoke to Miyazaki san.’

  ‘Just her – not you? They didn’t question you?’

  ‘No, just her, and they were interested in CCTV footage of the foyer, apparently.’

  Watanabe felt a sickening dead weight drop heavily into the pit of his stomach. He was stunned into silence and for a few moments his mind went completely numb. ‘And what is this all in connection with?’

  ‘Miyazaki san wasn’t sure. She’s understandably upset about the whole matter. I couldn’t get much sense out of her. I’ve relayed to you the important parts.’

  Watanabe could feel his heart beating faster, but once again did all he could to remain calm. He was thinking now about the wider reputation of the Faction. ‘They weren’t interested in anything else – just last Thursday and the CCTV.’

  ‘Quite sure,’ said Mitsui. ‘Look! We’ve called an extra-ordinary meeting – You’re to attend.’

  Watanabe didn’t like the tone of Mitsui’s voice. It was if, he, Watanabe was being summoned. None-the-less he complied and hurried out of the Diet buildings and into a waiting limousine.

  *

  Twenty minutes later Watanabe entered the central meeting room of his faction head-quarters.

  ‘What’s all this about? What is this need for a formal meeting?’ he demanded to the members who were already sitting around the table.

  Mitsui answered for the group. ‘Take a seat Watanabe san, please.’ He indicated to Watanabe’s usual place at the head of the table. Watanabe sat down circumspectly. Things were not as they usually were. For one thing as a rule he never followed when ordered. He looked around the rest of the group, who looked grimly back at him.

  ‘Where’s Ito san?’ he asked stalling for time.

  ‘Never mind about her – anyway she’s ill remember… Chicken pox. Look, Watanabe san there are important things that we need to discuss.’

  ‘Things? What things?’

  ‘Kinjo for a start-’

  ‘Kinjo! Well, yes, of course that was very unfortunate, very unfortunate indeed.’

  ‘This has all been bad for the Faction and it’s all been bad for the Party, too. First your scandal-’

  ‘That was all lies. You’ve read the papers over the weekend. You should know that!’ interrupted Watanabe.

  ‘Yes, the woman now says she was with Kinjo. How very fortunate for you that she changed her mind.’

  ‘Told the truth don’t you mean?’

  ‘Is that so? Look! Just for the record, do you mind telling us exactly what you know about the whole affair involving this woman. What’s her name? Junko Iida… Just so there is consistency in what we know and what we say to the press, if any of us are asked. At the moment we are all completely in the dark.’

  Watanabe felt himself relax - a little. So all this was an exercise in consistent, collective responsibility. He should have known better than to imagine that it was anything other.

  ‘Yes, you are right,’ he started, in a tone of humility. ‘Perhaps it was an error on my part to hide Kinjo’s indiscretions from you. So you want the truth about Kinjo, do you?’ He looked around at the members, who looked at each other and then nodded in response like a group of indiscreet school boys about to take a peep at their first porno magazine. ‘Kinjo is a serial womaniser. Some of you perhaps know this already. It was almost like an addiction for him, an unstoppable compulsion. Anyway, it was about a month ago, I’d say, that we attended a meeting in Shinbashi at a meeting room within a hotel – the hotel where this Junko Iida worked.-’

  ‘Who was that meeting with? Why go to some hotel in Shinbashi?’

  ‘It was a minor meeting with a prospective donator to the faction – the hotel proprietor, nothing more than that,’ lied Watanabe in a dismissive tone. He was feeling much more comfortable now. ‘Anyway, Kinjo, being Kinjo, took advantage of an opportunity that presented itself to him. Whether or not he masqueraded as myself, I do not know, but it appears that the girl was mistaken in her belief that she’d been with me. I understand that she has now altered her story to the truth. That’s all I know. I know he met the girl, I know he went with the girl and I know which date this was all supposed to have happened. Beyond that I know nothing and it certainly has nothing to do with me. Of that you can be quite sure.’ He laid his palms flat on the table in a gesture of openness and innocence.

  ‘So what do you make of these, then?’ said Mitsui sliding some photographs across the table. There was complete silence in the room. Each of the other men sat around the table had their eyes focussed solely on Watanabe. Watanabe had been looking Mitsui straight in the eye but slowly lowered his gaze down to the pictures in front of him. He was expecting to see some naked woman caught in his clutches. Instead he saw something entirely innocent. He was looking at the inside of a coffee house.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘We were hoping you would tell us?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what this is all about? What is this?’ he asked pointing at the photograph.

  ‘I thought you might say that,’ replied Mitsui smugly. ‘So I kept this particular shot back
.’ He slid yet another photograph across the table. This one was of Watanabe sitting in the self-same coffee shop.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Can you explain?’

  ‘There is nothing to explain.’