Out

by Natsuo Kirino

  It said that early that morning a park maintenance worker had found a plastic bag containing parts of a human body in a trash can. A police search had turned up a total of fifteen bags from other trash containers, all filled with parts of the body of an adult male. That was all it said, but from the location and the number of bags it was obvious that it was the share she'd made Kuniko take with her. She'd simply dumped them in the trash cans in the park. It had been a big mistake to drag that woman into this; she had never trusted her, so why had she given her such an important assignment? Masako sat chewing at her fingernails - an old habit she thought she'd broken - blaming herself for the whole mess.

  Now that they'd found the bags, it was just a matter of time before they identified the body as Kenji's. There was no way to undo what she'd done, but she probably still needed to warn Kuniko to avoid any more mistakes - maybe even threaten her. But before she did this, she ought to let Yoshie know what had happened. Yoshie was probably planning to go to work again today, so she had to get to her soon. Masako and the others usually took off the Friday night to Saturday morning shift instead of Sunday, because the pay was ten per cent higher for working Sunday. But Yoshie usually worked Saturday as well, needing the extra money.

  -

  Almost as soon as Masako rang the yellowed plastic bell, Yoshie's door opened with a harsh creak.

  'Oh, hello,' Yoshie said, her face appearing through a cloud of steam. She must be making soup, Masako thought, sniffing the smell of broth mixed with the faint hint of cleanser that always seemed to linger in Yoshie's house.

  'Can you come out a minute, Skipper?' she whispered. She could see Miki sitting in the tiny room just beyond the entrance hall, clutching her knees like a child as she stared at a cartoon on the TV. She never turned to look at the visitor.

  'Sure,' said Yoshie. 'Why?' Seeming to realise something had happened, her face had gone pale. Masako noticed how bone-tired she looked. Turning away, she took a step back and waited for Yoshie to join her outside.

  The tiny area next to the door had been planted with vegetables, and Masako stared curiously at the bright red tomatoes hanging heavily from the vines.

  'Sorry,' said Yoshie, coming up behind her a moment later. 'What's so interesting?'

  'Your tomatoes. You've got a real green thumb.'

  'If I had the space, I've often thought I'd like to grow my own rice,' she said, laughing as she surveyed the little patch of garden tucked under the eaves. 'I get kind of sick of them, but tomatoes do seem to like it here. They're incredibly sweet. Take some with you.' She twisted a particularly large one off the vine and put it on Masako's outstretched palm. Masako stood looking at it for a second, thinking how plump and healthy it seemed, despite having been grown next to this run-down house by this run-down woman. 'So what's up?' Yoshie said, looking at her expectantly.

  'Have you seen the evening paper?' Masako asked, turning toward her.

  'We don't get a paper,' she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

  'Oh? They found some of the bags in Koganei Park.'

  'Koganei Park? Those aren't mine!' she blurted out.

  'I know. It must be Kuniko. Anyway, the police showed up at Yayoi's house because she's reported Kenji missing.'

  'Do they already know it's him?'

  'Not yet,' said Masako. Yoshie looked worried, and the rings under her eyes were even more pronounced than they'd been the last time she'd seen her at the factory.

  'What'll we do?' There was a hint of panic in her voice. 'They'll find out.'

  'They're bound to find out it's him,' Masako agreed.

  'So what should we do?'

  'Were you planning to go to work?'

  'I was,' said Yoshie, sounding ambivalent. 'But I'm not sure I want to be the only one there tonight.'

  'You should go,' Masako told her. 'We need to go on acting as if nothing's happened. Do you think anyone knows you came over to my house that day?' Yoshie thought for a moment before shaking her head emphatically. 'Well, we have to keep that from coming out. I'm sure they're going to suspect Yayoi, so we have to make sure they don't find out she and Kenji were having problems, or that he hit her. If they do, we'll all end up like this,' she added, pressing her wrists together as though they were handcuffed.

  'I know,' Yoshie gulped, eyeing her bony arms. Just then, a tiny boy tottered up and wrapped himself around Yoshie's ankles.

  'Granny,' the thin child murmured as he clutched at the worn knees of her pants. He had apparently followed her out of the house wearing nothing but a diaper.

  'Who's this?' Masako asked.

  'My grandchild,' said Yoshie uncomfortably. She grabbed the boy's hand to keep him from running off.

  'You've got a grandchild? This is the first I've heard of it.' She rubbed the boy's head, hiding her surprise. As her fingers ran through the soft hair, she remembered how Nobuki's hair had felt long ago.

  'I've never told you, but I have another daughter. It's hers.'

  'Are you looking after him?'

  'Yes,' she sighed, looking down at the child. He was reaching up for the tomato that Masako was still holding. When she handed it to him, he sniffed at the red skin for a moment and then rubbed it against his cheek.

  'Sweet,' Masako whispered as she watched him.

  'You know,' Yoshie said, 'after what's happened, having him here is almost more than I can take.'

  'It's always hard when they're this small. He's still in diapers, right?'

  'I've got two to change now,' Yoshie laughed, the weight of this human custody showing in her eyes. Masako looked at her for a moment longer.

  'Okay. If something else comes up, I'll drop by.'

  'Masako,' she said, stopping her as she was about to go. 'What did you do with the head?' Her voice was barely audible, as if she were afraid even to let the child hear. The boy, however, was paying no attention as he studied the tomato held carefully in his outstretched hands. Masako glanced around before answering.

  'I buried it the next day. It should be okay.'

  'Where did you go?'

  'It's better if you don't know,' she said, turning to walk back to her car which she'd left parked at the end of the alley. She had decided not to tell her about Kuniko's attempt to blackmail Yayoi, or about the insurance money. There was no point in worrying her any more, she told herself. But the truth was, Masako didn't really trust anyone now.

  She could hear a horn tooting somewhere nearby, the sound tofu trucks use to advertise their wares, and, through the open windows around her, the sound of dishes rattling and televisions blaring. It was the hour when the women of the city bustled around their kitchens. Masako thought of her own neat, empty kitchen and her bathroom where the deed had been done. It occurred to her that lately she felt more at home in a dry, scoured bathroom than a busy, homey kitchen.

  -

  She used the map she kept in the car to locate Kuniko's apartment complex in the neighbouring town of Kodaira. The rows of ageing wooden mailboxes lining the entrance to the building were decorated with scraps of children's stickers and hastily plastered signs forbidding advertisers to leave pornographic leaflets. The names of the current occupants seemed to be written over those of previous tenants, suggesting the building had a high turnover rate. In some cases, they hadn't even bothered with a new nameplate, simply crossing out the old name with a stroke of a marker pen and writing in the new one next to it. Checking the boxes, Masako found that Kuniko lived on the fifth floor.

  She rode up in an elevator that was nearly as derelict as the mailboxes, and stood at Kuniko's door. She buzzed the intercom but there was no answer. Since her car was parked outside, she was probably just out shopping. Deciding to wait for her, Masako stood off to one side of the passageway, making herself inconspicuous. She watched the bugs buzzing around the pale fluorescent light. Every so often, one would fly frantically against the bulb and then drop to the floor. She lit a cigarette and counted the dead insects as she waited.

  Twent
y minutes later, Kuniko came trundling down the passage dangling bags from the local convenience store. Despite the heat and humidity, she was dressed in style, all in black, and seemed to be in a very good mood, almost humming as she came. As Masako watched her approach, she thought of the crows in the park.

  'Oh! What are you doing here?' Kuniko shrieked when she noticed her standing in the shadows.

  'We need to talk.'

  'Now? What about?' She looked disgruntled as she studied Masako's face.

  'Yes, now! Thanks to you we're in deep trouble.' Masako grabbed the newspaper that was tucked into the mail slot and shoved it in her face. The clatter of the mailbox snapping shut echoed down the passage.

  'What are you talking about?' Kuniko said, glancing nervously around her.

  'See for yourself,' Masako hissed. Kuniko fumbled for her key, clearly frightened by the way she glared at her.

  'The place is a mess, but you'll have to come in. We can't talk about this out here.' Masako followed her into the apartment and looked around for a moment. The furniture and decorations were an odd mixture of the crude and the refined, much like the occupant herself. 'I hope this won't take long,' Kuniko said, giving her an uneasy glance as she turned on the air-conditioner.

  'Don't worry, it won't.' Masako opened the paper and pointed at the article. Kuniko dropped her grocery bags on the floor and scanned the page. Masako noticed a twitch in her cheek under the caked layers of foundation. 'They're yours, aren't they? Who else would have left them in a park?'

  'It seemed like a perfect place to me.'

  'You are so dumb! They're fussy about the trash in parks. That's why I said to leave them in a neighbourhood.'

  'That's still no reason to call me stupid.' Kuniko formed her lips into a pout.

  'Stupid is as stupid does. Thanks to you, the police showed up at Yayoi's place.'

  'What? Already?' Her pout turned to a look of shock.

  'Yes! They aren't sure it's him yet, but that won't take long. All hell's going to break loose tomorrow, and if they find out she did it, we're all going down together.' Kuniko stood staring at her, as though her brain had frozen. Masako stared back. 'You know what this means, don't you? Even if, by some miracle, they didn't find out we were involved, if they arrest Yayoi you'll never see your money.' At this, Kuniko finally seemed to grasp the situation. 'But it gets worse,' Masako went on. 'For you, the real problem is that guarantor's contract you made her sign. You're already an accomplice, with her husband all chopped up in pieces, but now you tried to blackmail her as well.'

  'Blackmail!? I never meant... '

  'Never meant to what? You threatened her, didn't you?'

  'But I didn't know what else to do. I just thought she might be able to help. We're all in this together, aren't we? After what I did for her . . .' Kuniko sputtered on incoherently, sweat showing on her dull-witted face. Masako stared coldly at her. Her biggest worry now was that Kuniko's loan shark would find out about the insurance money. She doubted someone like that would care much about the murder itself, but he might come snooping around if he got wind of that kind of money.

  'What do you mean, "all in this together"? You've never cared about anyone but yourself.' She thrust out her hand. 'Where's the contract? Get it - now.'

  'But I already took it in,' said Kuniko, glancing nervously at her watch.

  'Where?'

  'A place called the Million Consumers Centre, right across from the station.'

  'A loan shark. Call them up, right now, and tell them you want the contract back.' Her tone was so threatening that Kuniko seemed on the verge of tears.

  'But that's impossible.'

  'Impossible or not, it's got to be done. This will be all over the TV and papers tomorrow, and then your friendly lender is bound to pay you a visit.'

  'Okay.' Still seeming reluctant, she pulled a business card out of her purse and picked up the phone. Masako noticed that it was covered with stickers, just like the mailboxes in the lobby. 'This is Kuniko Jonouchi,' she said into it. 'I was wondering whether you might be willing to return the contract I brought in a few minutes ago.' Masako stood listening while the man at the other end refused the request.

  'Tell him to wait and you'll be right over,' she whispered, reaching out to cover the mouthpiece. After she'd hung up, Kuniko's legs seemed to give out and she crumpled to the floor.

  'Do I have to go?' she asked.

  'What do you think?'

  'But why?'

  'Because this whole mess is your fault.'

  'But I didn't chop him up!' she squealed.

  'Shut up!' Masako yelled, fighting back the urge to punch her. Kuniko had begun to sob.

  'How much did you borrow from them?'

  'Five hundred thousand . . . this time.' Masako knew the routine: she'd probably tried to borrow a somewhat smaller sum, but when they'd looked into her credit status they'd lent her more than she could handle. She'd had a feeling for some time that Kuniko was having trouble keeping up with the interest payments on her loans.

  'You usually don't need a guarantor for that kind of money. I think you've been suckered.'

  'But he told me I'd have to pay them back right away if I didn't have one.' Kuniko was whining again.

  'And you believed him?' Masako muttered.

  Kuniko looked amazed. 'But he was so nice and polite. I was expecting a yakuza, but he was just a regular guy. He even thanked me when I brought him the contract.'

  'They change the act depending on the audience. They knew they could get around you with a little sweet talk.' Masako made no effort to hide her contempt.

  'You seem to know all about it.'

  'And you seem to know nothing at all. But we haven't got time for this. Let's go.' She turned away and stepped quickly into her tennis shoes. The heels had been crushed down and she worked her toes in as if they were slippers. Kuniko followed her, still sulking.

  -

  The lights were off in the Million Consumers Centre, but Masako climbed the stairs and knocked on the flimsy door.

  'It's open!' a voice called from inside.

  They entered the darkened office and found a man slouched on a sofa near the window, smoking a cigarette. The grimy table in front of him was littered with a crumpled newspaper and sticky cans of coffee.

  'Hello,' he said, smiling and getting to his feet. 'Come in.' His grey suit and dark-red tie seemed too stylish for the shabby office, but the dyed-brown hair fitted right in. From his slightly flustered reaction, Masako guessed that he hadn't been expecting to see Kuniko, despite the phone call.

  'Jumonji-san,' Kuniko said, 'it turns out that the lady who signed the guarantor form I gave you has changed her mind and wants it back.'

  'And is this the lady?'Jumonji asked, turning warily to Masako.

  'No, but I'm her friend. She's married and she doesn't want to get involved in something like this. Could you please return it?'

  'I'm sorry, but we can't do that.'

  'Then at least let me see it,' said Masako.

  'All right,' he murmured, beginning to sound disgruntled. He opened a drawer in his desk and handed a sheet of paper to Masako. She scanned it for a minute.

  'There's no legal provision for a separate guarantor, not unless you required it from the beginning. I'd like to see the original promissory note, please.' At this, Jumonji's expression hardened. He pulled another paper from the file and pointed out a section to Masako.

  'It says right here that "a guarantor can be required in the event of a substantial change in the borrower's credit status". Well, Jonouchi-san's husband quit his job and ran off somewhere; I think we could call that a "substantial change".'

  'Call it what you like,' Masako said with a smile. 'But the fact is, she's only been late once on her payments, and then only by one day. That's hardly a reason to impose a clause like this.'

  Jumonji hadn't apparently expected a counter-punch and stood staring at her with open amazement. Kuniko glanced around nervously, as
if expecting someone to come up and attack them. Jumonji looked at Masako for a moment longer.

  'Have we met somewhere?' he said at last.

  'No,' said Masako, shaking her head.

  'No, maybe not.' His tone had softened a bit but he continued to stare at her. 'I have to tell you, we have real doubts about the repayment of this loan.'

  Til make sure she pays,' said Masako, as if stating a flat fact.

  'Then you're willing to serve as guarantor?'

  'No, but I'll see you get your money, even if I have to take her somewhere else to get another loan to cover yours.'

  'Fine,' said Jumonji, apparently giving in. 'But I'll be keeping an eye on Jonouchi-san's payments.' He went back to the couch and sat down. Kuniko stood staring at Masako, apparently shocked that she'd been able to extract the contract so easily.

  'We'll be going then,' Masako said, trying to hustle her out the door.

  'Now I remember,' Jumonji spoke up just as they were going. 'You're Masako Katori, aren't you?' Masako wheeled around, and abruptly remembered a younger Jumonji, a punk with a razor cut. He'd worked as a debt collector for a sub-subcontractor to her company. A lot had changed, including the less flashy name he'd used back then which she'd long since forgotten, but the shrewd eyes were unmistakable.

  'Now that you mention it . . .' she stammered. 'But you've changed your name.'

  'I'll even change the rules in her case,' he laughed, 'if you're willing to vouch for her.'

  -

  'How do you know him?' Kuniko said. She'd gone down the stairs ahead of her but turned back to face her, unable to hide her curiosity.

  'I used to see him at my old job,' Masako said.

  'What job?'

  'I worked in the financial sector.'

  'For a loan shark?' she asked, but Masako refused to say any

  more. Kuniko stood looking at her a moment longer but then made a dash for it, as though she couldn't wait to get off the dark, empty streets. Yet it was just those dingy alleys that Masako now felt like hiding in, after seeing that shadow from the past. She too was scared. What was next? Where could she run to?