Tokyo Zangyo

by Michael Pronko

  He was careful to be sure his computer was turned off and Takamatsu’s phone locked in his drawer. He locked his office, too, which he almost never did.

  The water restored him, giving him the illusion that he had actually slept and this was a morning like any other. As he toweled off, he felt immensely better. He deflated the sleeve and his arm was totally dry. He headed back to his office, walking slowly through the bland hallways of the station.

  There were the matching figures from Mayu and Onizuka’s accounts, the transfer of funds overseas, and no answer from Senden on any of the rest of it. The security guards didn’t look like they were up to anything and the head security guard, Imasato, had Takamatsu’s trust.

  That might create a scandal if exposed, but it was hardly worth shoving anyone off a building. Nakata was there, but Chizu had only seen them talking. And then she met Nakata… or no, she said they only spoke by phone. And then she went home.

  He was missing “the last mile,” as one of his accounting teachers use to say all the time in America. But it might as well be a hundred miles.

  When he got back, Akiko was standing outside the office.

  “I thought you had a key?” Hiroshi said.

  “No, why would I? It’s never locked.” Akiko held up a convenience store bag with fruit, yogurt, and a couple of onigiri rice balls.

  “Thank you. I’m starving.” Hiroshi unlocked the door and they went inside.

  “Takamatsu’s cellphone is first.”

  “Did something happen to Takamatsu?” Akiko asked, stricken.

  “No, he’s sleeping.”

  “Don’t scare me like that. I thought he’d fallen into Tokyo Bay again.”

  “Still time for that, but he took hundreds of photos of files. Could you send them from his phone to your computer and try to keep them in order? As soon as you get that done, search them all for Onizuka,” Hiroshi said. “You want a coffee?”

  Akiko nodded and sat down to work.

  Hiroshi made espresso for them both.

  “There’s got to be a connection to Onizuka’s history of harassment, but I’m not sure what it is yet.”

  “Did you figure out how he got onto the roof?”

  “He was carried there by a group of women.”

  “What?”

  “They left him there tied up, naked, drunk and, apparently, photographed.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, I don’t know. We can’t get him from being tied up on the roof to the cut fence and then to the edge where gravity took over.”

  “On the roof, but not off,” Akiko said.

  Hiroshi winced, thinking of the body on the pavement, and handed her the espresso.

  They worked separately, Hiroshi on the financial files and Akiko on the human resource files.

  After a couple of hours, Hiroshi stood up and stretched. “I think I got it, the last mile.”

  “The last what?”

  “The last kilometer.” Hiroshi stretched his neck, yawned and moved his arms around. “If I can only stay awake long enough to remember it all.”

  “Write it down?” Akiko said.

  “No time. Check when the Senden Central Infinity press conference starts, can you?”

  Akiko searched around and said, “It’s in two and a half hours.”

  “That’s enough time. And where is it?”

  “In the conference room attached to the museum of advertising, inside Senden’s main office.”

  “And it’s open to the public?”

  Akiko did another quick search. “Yes.”

  “Perfect,” Hiroshi said, smiling and yawning and stretching all at once.

  Chapter 38

  They had to take three cars. The chief rode with Sakaguchi and Akiko in his swank chief’s car. Osaki drove two more detectives and Sugamo drove Hiroshi, Takamatsu and a new detective. Takamatsu kept turning around to talk to her, breaking her in with a stream of light-hearted sarcasm and long-ago stories. Hiroshi and Sugamo ignored him, but the new detective had no choice but to listen.

  “Do you know how to use your retractable baton?” Takamatsu asked, flicking his out so Sugamo had to put up a hand to keep it out of his face.

  “I took the training, and I did kendo for many years,” she replied.

  “So did Hiroshi, but he can’t remember to bring any protective device with him ever,” Takamatsu said.

  The rest of the ride was the young detective nodding politely and responding to Takamatsu with an endless chorus of “So desu, ne.”

  The chief security guard at Senden, Imasato, met the three cars at the door of the parking lot, directed them to parking spots, and ushered them through a side door. He led them to a high-ceilinged hallway just outside the conference room from which were filtered the muffled sounds of a presentation.

  Imasato poked his head around the door. Flashes of light from the cameras ricocheted out. He let the door shut with a soft whoosh. “Still running through the PowerPoint,” Imasato said, shaking his head.

  Hiroshi ran through what he was going to say, and how. He looked out the narrow floor-to-ceiling window and wondered if it would work or not. It was a gamble to bring everyone, to stage a confrontation in public. But if Onizuka, an inveterate gambler, could take a few risks, a detective could too.

  Imasato peeked inside again and leaned back to whisper to Hiroshi. “They’re asking for questions from the media now.” He doffed his cap as they entered. A large screen hung over a platform at the front, directed out at the rows of seats filled with reporters, company employees, and a few investors and curiosity-seekers. Video crews took up the aisles.

  On the front platform sat Nakata with company executives and the company president Hiroshi had met briefly three days before. Beside them stretched out a longer row of younger employees in loose fitting suits, colorful ties, and stylish hair cuts. Only one woman sat on the platform, in the last seat on the right.

  One of the men was gesturing at the screen, answering a question with an enthusiastic smile. He rolled the PowerPoint back to a previous slide and started answering a question about the overseas venture.

  Hiroshi looked for Chizu, but could not see her anywhere in the huge room. He sent her another LINE message, but she had not responded since they’d locked up the file storage room and hurried off in separate directions. Takamatsu was right, they should have brought Chizu in for her own protection.

  Hiroshi walked toward the front of the room. Takamatsu and Akiko followed, the chief somewhere behind. Hiroshi stopped halfway toward the front, waiting until the press questions slowed. Akiko handed him the folder of documents they’d selected.

  Hiroshi raised his hand.

  The young guy with the PowerPoint clicker in hand pointed at Hiroshi.

  Nakata, seeing Hiroshi, leaned forward in his chair. The president of the company whispered something and Nakata nodded.

  An assistant wearing white gloves hurried over and handed Hiroshi a microphone with a deep bow. She bent down and hurried out of the way.

  Hiroshi turned the microphone on and cleared his throat. All eyes, and cameras, in the room turned to him.

  Hiroshi kept his eyes on Nakata. “I have a question about one of your employees, Onizuka, who was set to lead the transition overseas. We’ve found evidence that he did not commit suicide. So the murder investigation is still open. Do you have any comment on that?”

  The room fell quiet.

  The president, Nakata, and the other executives sat stone-faced.

  Hiroshi waved the folder Akiko had made of the important money transfers and camera flashes bleached out the room. “So, can you answer a few other questions for us?”

  The young salarymen and one woman looked confused. They stood looking at the president and Nakata for direction. The company president whispered in Nakata’s ear.

  Video cameras panned from Hiroshi to the platform, and back again, as the company president whispered again to Nakata, his hand over the microphone.r />
  “We have a list of people we’d like to talk to, starting with you, Nakata-san. Our investigation has led us to conclude that Onizuka did not take his own life and that the company finances for the overseas move have been compromised. I have several questions.”

  The president spoke to Nakata again.

  Nakata stood up with microphone in hand. “You will have to excuse us. The president has some pressing business.” He bowed to the hall. The younger employees looked bewildered at having their carefully prepared press conference interrupted.

  Nakata followed the president out of the room.

  Imasato pulled open the door to the hall for Hiroshi, Akiko, and Takamatsu.

  The president and Nakata were walking quickly away but Sakaguchi, who had been sitting in a chair outside the conference hall, stood up from his chair and limped to the middle of the hallway. He stretched out his arms and stopped them.

  At his orders, two of the young detectives raced around the president and Nakata to Sakaguchi’s side. Two other detectives hurried over to either side of the two Senden leaders and stood politely in place blocking their exit.

  Hiroshi walked up to them, with Takamatsu and Akiko right behind.

  The high-ceilinged hallway had an echo and light streamed in the tall, narrow windows.

  “You were on the roof that night,” Hiroshi said to Nakata.

  Nakata laughed. “What? I was nowhere near there.”

  “A witness and video put you there.” Hiroshi was bluffing about the video, but Chizu had seen him.

  “Onizuka jumped,” Nakata explained to the president.

  Hiroshi said, “You untied him. You walked him to the ledge. You cut the fence. You threatened him and talked him into it.”

  Nakata stared at Hiroshi.

  The president cleared his throat.

  “You threatened him and helped him to the edge.”

  “Why would I do that?” Nakata said. “I had enough problems already with the missing funds—”

  “That was an embezzlement scheme, one that you initiated, but couldn’t control. Onizuka was too clever for you. Once you lost control, you had to do something more.”

  “We’ve already taken full responsibility for Onizuka’s actions. We’ve made reparations with our clients—”

  “But that isn’t it at all, is it?” Hiroshi let the silence settle in.

  The president said, “What is all this? We’ve cooperated with you fully and this is the thanks we get? We have a busy schedule, detectives.”

  “It’s going to get a lot busier,” Hiroshi told him. “At first, I thought Onizuka really was the culprit moving funds, but only HR has the full account information. It was you, Nakata, who moved the money through Onizuka’s accounts with Mayu’s help. At least until she died. That’s why you kept moving Mayu back into Onizuka’s section.”

  Nakata stared at Hiroshi and turned to the president.

  “Let him finish,” the president told him.

  “Onizuka was just moving his gambling winnings. He’d been particularly lucky, was always lucky, apparently, and wanted his winnings overseas out of sight of the tax office. That’s a crime, but paying back taxes would solve it. It took me all morning to figure that one out.”

  “What files are you talking about?” Nakata asked.

  Hiroshi said, “I’ve only encountered one similar piggyback scheme before, but you are good. You should have worked in the accounting section, not in Human Resources.”

  The president looked at Nakata. “Is any of this true?”

  Akiko handed the president the folder they’d assembled. Hiroshi caught a glimpse of her pleased, subtle smile as she handed it over.

  The president flipped through it while everyone stood waiting in the high, wide hallway.

  The president closed the folder and glared at Nakata.

  Nakata started to speak in a soft voice. “There was no way we could send Onizuka overseas. He had a destructive streak we could contain here, but not abroad.” Nakata looked out the tall, narrow window.

  Everyone waited for him to continue.

  “We worked with him as long as we could, but he was given two choices, leaving the company or becoming a madogiwazoku, sitting by the window doing menial tasks, never promoted, but never fired, either. Most people would be happy for that easy ride until retirement. But not Onizuka. He cashed in years of favors to get himself posted overseas.”

  The president cleared his throat. “The decision to send Onizuka overseas was made long ago.”

  Nakata bowed deeply to the president. “When I found Onizuka on the roof, all I thought was—another one of his messes to clean up. I couldn’t get him to say how he got up there. I untied him—the knots were tight. I got him to sit on a bench. I didn’t know what to do. We sat in the cold wind for a long time. He said he’d had enough. He asked me to help.”

  Hiroshi realized that Nakata had thought it all the way through. He missed covering some of his tracks, but not all of them. Nakata would have taken his time, knowing he could blank out the video record of the two of them talking on the roof, and then of his ascending the stairs, and of any footage on any other camera. All he had to do was make some excuse to the security guards, and send them away, off the roof, and grab the footage before they saw it.

  But what he couldn’t hide were the bank transfers.

  “Where is Chizu?” Hiroshi asked.

  Instead of answering, Nakata bolted past the detectives, who were too slow to grab him, and took off running down the hallway.

  Chapter 39

  Sakaguchi took two steps after Nakata, then doubled over. He’d stepped wrong on his knee. Hiroshi took off after Nakata down the hallway.

  The younger detectives, unsure what to do, stood watching. Takamatsu told Sugamo to go to the front door and Osaki to pull the stop on one of the elevators and take the other to the roof with the young detectives.

  Takamatsu found Hiroshi hunkered down behind a car just outside the parking lot door and frowned. Hiroshi waved him down out of sight. “Nakata was heading for that door on the other side of the lot.”

  “The one that goes into the underground storage area?”

  “Where Chizu took us.”

  “There were a dozen tunnels in there.”

  “Each with a locked door.”

  “I’ll call Imasato,” Takamatsu said.

  “Do you think he has the keys?”

  “He better. Did you find Chizu?”

  “She hasn’t answered.”

  “Let’s hope we get to her before Nakata does.”

  Hiroshi thought they might already be too late.

  Imasato hurried out of the door with the keys and the three of them raced for the underground door at the end of the parking lot. Imasato lagged behind, out of breath. He fumbled with the key ring, found the right one and opened the heavy metal door.

  Takamatsu grabbed the ring from him as the lights kicked on inside the empty hallway. Hiroshi and Takamatsu raced to the door at the far end.

  Takamatsu held up the ring of twenty-some keys, eyeballing them one by one. Hiroshi waited until he picked the right one and the door swung open. The lights flipped on in an empty hallway with three doors.

  Hiroshi slowed, trying to remember how Chizu had led them in there. It must be the far door, and in the next hallway, the one on the right, maybe. He wasn’t sure.

  Imasato loped down the hall after them. Hiroshi ran to the far door and Takamatsu skidded to a halt to try all the keys again.

  He got it on the third try. Imasato caught up with a face red as a heart attack. “Here’s the codes for the doors. It’s one of these.” Imasato handed Hiroshi a small pad with a column of combinations, written by hand. “I got these from the safety inspectors a few years ago. It’s got to be one of these. Go on. I’ll catch up.”

  Hiroshi and Takamatsu ran down the next hallway.

  An alarm was tripped and the narrow hallway filled with a deafening siren and a flashing red l
ight. Hiroshi cringed. Takamatsu nodded ahead to the doors at the end.

  Hiroshi ran to the door halfway down with a combination wheel and large levered knobs like a safe. If it wasn’t the one Chizu had taken them through before, they were already farther from Nakata, and probably Chizu, than when they started.

  Takamatsu worked at getting the right key as Hiroshi put in the numbers. After several tries, the levers dropped. They pulled back the heavy door and smoke billowed out of the room. The siren and light kept on with distracting urgency.

  Inside, the file storage room was dark and quiet. But it was the same one as before. He remembered the marker on the first aisle. He pulled out his cellphone flashlight and Takamatsu plucked out an LED penlight from his jacket. The endless stacks of folders looked the same, but it was hard to tell in the dark and smoke.

  Imasato caught up with them and Takamatsu told him to hold the door open.

  Hiroshi went one way and Takamatsu the other, looking down each of the aisles, but many of the racks were pressed tightly, efficiently, together. Hiroshi pressed one of the buttons at the end of the stack to get it to move, but it didn’t budge. He tied his handkerchief over his face and worked his way to the end of the aisle, finding nothing.

  From the other side of the stacks, he heard Takamatsu shout, and the sound of something heavy slamming. He almost ran to see, but instead kept going, making sure he wasn’t missing anything before doubling back.

  He heard Takamatsu shouting and the sound of boxes falling and metal racks banging against each other.

  He turned toward Takamatsu’s voice, but heard a shout of “Help!” closer by. The voice was hoarse and weak.

  “Hello?” He searched in the dark, but couldn’t see anything, and called back.

  “Help!” the voice answered, a woman’s voice. Metal shelves rattled. “I’m trapped. In here.”

  Hiroshi backtracked, peering down the aisles with his cellphone light. “Chizu?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Where are you?”