Out

by Natsuo Kirino

  'But they cut him up!' Yoko said indignantly. 'It must be someone awful, a monster.'

  'I can't imagine who'd do something like that, either,' she agreed, remembering the photo the detectives had shown her of Kenji's severed hand. The hatred she'd felt for Masako at that moment reared its head again. How could they have gone that far? Some part of her told her she was being illogical, but as they talked, as she went over what had happened, her take on the incident began to change.

  The telephone rang. It was probably Masako, she thought. Now that she had this nice new friend, she suddenly realised how tiresome it was to have to talk with a bossy know-it-all like Masako. She hesitated, unwilling to pick up the phone.

  'Don't worry about me,' Yoko said, signalling her to answer. Reluctantly, she complied.

  'It's me, Kinugasa again,' said a familiar voice. He or Imai checked in each week to see how she was doing.

  'Thanks for calling,' she said.

  'How have things been going?'

  'Well enough.'

  'Are you back at work?'

  'I am,' she told him. 'I have friends there, and I'm used to the routine, so I'm planning to stay on.'

  'That sounds sensible.' His voice was quiet, soothing. 'And you leave the boys to fend for themselves?'

  'Fend for themselves?' she repeated, struck by the disapproval in his choice of words.

  'I didn't mean it like that,' he said. 'But what do you do with them?'

  'I put them to bed before I go; I think they're safe enough.'

  'Unless there's a fire or an earthquake. If something happens, you should call the local police station immediately.'

  'I appreciate your concern...,' she said.

  'By the way, I hear that you'll be getting your husband's insurance.' He sounded happy for her, but she could hear a slight reservation in his tone. She glanced around and saw that Yoko, out of courtesy perhaps, had left her seat and was standing by the window staring out at a withered pot of morning glories that the children had brought home from day-care.

  'Yes,' she said. 'I hadn't even realised he'd taken out a policy at his company. It was a shock, but I must say I'm grateful. I wasn't sure what I'd do, trying to raise these boys by myself.'

  'Well, I'm happy for you,' said Kinugasa. 'I'm afraid there's some bad news, though. It seems the owner of that casino has disappeared. If you see any sign of him, please let us know right away.'

  'What do you mean?' said Yayoi, raising her voice for the first time since she'd answered the phone. She wheeled around to find Yoko staring at her.

  'Now don't get excited,' Kinugasa told her. 'He's just gone missing. It's a mistake on our part, but we're doing everything we can to locate him.'

  'So you think he ran off because he's guilty?' Kinugasa said nothing for a moment, and in the background she could hear phones ringing and men's voices talking. She frowned, feeling that the smoky, masculine fug of the police station had somehow made its way into her home.

  'We're looking for him,' he said eventually, 'so try not to worry. If something happens, call me directly.' With that, he hung up.

  This was good news for all of them, Yayoi thought. She'd been disappointed when he was released for lack of evidence, but if he'd gone on the run he was as much as admitting he was guilty. She could relax again. When she put down the phone and went back to her chair, she looked quite cheerful.

  'Good news?' Yoko asked, smiling herself.

  'No, not really,' she said, trying to look serious again. Yoko seemed surprised by the sudden change of expression.

  'Perhaps I should go,' she said.

  'No, please. Stay a while.'

  'Was the call about the case?'

  'It seems the suspect disappeared.'

  'Was that the police calling?' Yoko said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

  'One of the detectives,' said Yayoi.

  'It was? Wow .. . I mean I'm sorry.'

  'That's all right,' Yayoi said, smiling. 'They're a bother, those men, always calling to see how I'm doing.'

  'But don't you wish they'd hurry up and find who did it?'

  'I certainly do,' said Yayoi forlornly. 'I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.'

  'I don't blame you. But if he ran off like that, it must mean he did it.'

  'Wouldn't that be wonderful?' The words slipped out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying, but fortunately Yoko seemed to take no notice and went on nodding in sympathy.

  -

  It was only a matter of time before a friendship developed between them. Yoko would often show up soon after Yayoi awoke from her nap, before she was quite ready to go get the boys and start dinner. Yoko said she was on her way home from school, and she usually brought some inexpensive dessert or snack. Yayoi's children liked her right away. Yukihiro told her about the cat, and she took them out to search for him in the neighbourhood.

  'Yayoi-san,' Yoko said to her one day, somewhat hesitantly, 'why don't I stay here with the boys while you're at work?' Yayoi was amazed that someone she'd only just met should be so kind to her.

  'I couldn't ask you to do that,' she said.

  'You certainly could. I've got to sleep somewhere anyway, and I hate to think of little Yukihiro waking up alone at night, his papa gone and his mother off at work.' She seemed to have a soft spot for the younger boy, and he in turn was completely attached to her. So Yayoi, who had been feeling starved for simple human kindness, jumped at the offer.

  'Then you have to agree to have dinner with us. I can't pay you, but at least we can feed you.'

  'Thank you,' said Yoko, beginning to cry.

  'What's wrong?'

  'It's just that I'm so happy,' she said, wiping away the tears. 'I feel like I have a new family. I've been alone so long, I'd forgotten how nice it is to be with other people. That room gets so lonely...'

  'I've been lonely, too. I lost my husband so suddenly, and since then I feel as though nobody understands what I'm going through.'

  'I know how hard it must be.' Both in tears now, the two women embraced; but when Yayoi looked up, she saw her kids staring at them in amazement.

  'Boys,' she laughed, wiping her cheek, 'Yoko-san is going to be staying with you at night from now on!'

  -

  It never occurred to her that Yoko would be the cause of a shouting match with Masako.

  Masako's grilling had begun with, 'Who is that answering the phone at your house these days?'

  'Her name is Yoko Morisaki. She's a neighbour, and she's been nice enough to look after the boys for me.'

  'You mean she stays over at your house?'

  'She's been sleeping there while I'm at work.'

  'So she's living with you?' asked Masako in that analytical way of hers.

  'No, it's nothing like that.' Yayoi sounded annoyed. 'She goes to school. When she's done, she comes over for dinner. Then she comes back when I leave for work.'

  'And she stays with your kids all night for free?'

  'I feed her dinner,' said Yayoi.

  'She's pretty generous, wouldn't you say? You don't think she's after something?'

  'No!' Yayoi protested. She couldn't allow anyone to make nasty insinuations like that about Yoko, not even Masako. 'She's just incredibly kind - and you're rather mean.'

  'Mean or not, I'm just trying to remind you that you're the one who'll suffer most if we're found out.'

  'I know, but... '

  'But what?'

  Yayoi was fed up with this cross-examination. Why did Masako always keep on hammering away at things?

  'Why are you getting at me like this?' she said.

  'I'm not,' a puzzled Masako replied. 'Why are you getting so angry?'

  'I'm not angry!' Yayoi insisted. 'I'm just tired of all your questions. In fact, I've got a few of my own. What have you and the Skipper been cooking up? And why aren't you talking to Kuniko any more? Did something happen?' Masako frowned. She hadn't told her that Kuniko had talked to Jumonji, or that she wa
s considering another 'job' as a result; and it never occurred to Yayoi that she was being kept in the dark because Masako considered her weak and unreliable.

  'No - nothing,' Masako said. 'But are you sure that woman isn't after the insurance money or something?'

  'Morisaki-san is not that kind of person!' Yayoi shouted, exploding at last. 'She's not like Kuniko!'

  'Fine, fine. Forget I mentioned it.' Her outburst over, Masako subsided; and Yayoi, remembering her debt to her, was quick to apologise.

  'I'm sorry, I just snapped. But I'm sure Yoko is all right.'

  'But aren't you worried about her spending all that time with your kids?' said Masako, refusing to give up. 'One of them might say something.'

  'They've forgotten all about that night,' Yayoi said, amazed at her persistence. 'They've never mentioned it again.' Masako sat and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

  'You don't think that's because they know it would cause trouble for you?'

  'No, that's not it,' she said, though the comment had hit home. 'I know them better than anybody, and I'm sure they've forgotten all about it.'

  'I hope you're right.' Masako glanced at her. 'But you don't want to get sloppy in the late innings.'

  'Late innings? Why do you say that?' To her mind, the game had ended, and they had won. 'Haven't you heard? The casino owner has disappeared, so it's all over.'

  'What do you mean?' she snorted. 'I don't see how it will ever be over for you.'

  'What a horrible thing to say!' Glancing around, she realised that Yoshie had come up quietly and was standing behind Masako, watching her with the same accusing eyes. Yayoi couldn't stand the way they seemed to be plotting something together, shutting her out of their plans, blaming her for everything, even though they were more than willing to take her money.

  After work, she left the factory without talking to anyone. The dawn came later these days, and the darkness seemed to close in around her, reminding her how lonely she was. When she arrived home, Yoko and the boys were still asleep in the bedroom, though her friend must have heard her come in since she appeared a few moments later in her pyjamas.

  'Good morning,' she said.

  'Did I wake you?'

  'Don't worry about it. I have to get an early start today so I should be up anyway.' She stretched sleepily but then seemed to realise that Yayoi was upset. 'You look pale. Did something happen?'

  'No, it's nothing important - just an argument at work.' She couldn't mention, of course, that her defence of Yoko had been the cause.

  'Who with?'

  'A woman named Masako, the one who calls here all the time.'

  'You mean the one who's always so curt? What did she say?' Yoko was flushed, as if she'd had the argument herself.

  'Nothing much,' said Yayoi, dodging the question. 'It was all pretty silly.' She tied on her apron and began fixing breakfast.

  In a quiet voice, Yoko asked: 'Why do you always sound so meek when you're talking to her?'

  'What?' she said, wheeling around. 'I do not.'

  'Is she threatening you somehow?' There was a sharply inquisitive look in her eyes, the same look she'd seen in the other neighbours, but Yayoi forced herself to ignore it. Anyone else, she thought, but not Yoko.

  6

  The late-afternoon autumn sun cast a soft light on the bundles of money sitting on the table. They were so new and perfect, they looked unreal, like some jokey sort of paperweight. Nevertheless, there was more money there than she earned in a year at the factory, and after all her time at the credit union, she'd been making no more than twice this amount. Masako sat staring at the two million yen she'd received from Yayoi, mulling over the events of the past few months and the prospect of the 'business' to come.

  Eventually, her thoughts turned to a hiding place for the money. Should she put it in the bank? But then she couldn't get to it in a hurry if something happened - and there would be a record of it. On the other hand, if she hid it somewhere in the house, there was always the chance somebody would find it there. While she was still weighing these options, the buzzer on the intercom sounded. She stuffed the money into a drawer under the sink before answering.

  'I'm sorry to bother you,' said a woman's hesitant voice. 'Can I help you with something?' Masako asked.

  'I'm thinking of buying the lot across the street, and I was

  wondering if I could ask you a few questions.' Having little choice, Masako went out to the hall and opened the door. A middle-aged woman in a dowdy lavender suit was standing outside looking embarrassed. Judging from her face, she was about the same age as Masako; but her figure had begun to spread, and her voice was high and slightly frantic sounding, as if she'd never learned to keep it under control. 'I'm sorry to barge in like this,' she said.

  'That's all right.'

  'I'm thinking of buying the lot across the street,' she repeated, pointing to a patch of bare earth directly opposite. There had been talk of a sale several times, but recently it had begun to look neglected.

  'And how can I help you?' Masako said in her most businesslike voice.

  'Well, I was wondering why that was the only lot that didn't sell, whether there was some problem with it.'

  'I'm afraid I wouldn't know.'

  'So you haven't heard of any kind of trouble connected with it? I'd hate to find out there was something wrong after we bought it.'

  'I understand your concern,' Masako said, 'but I really have no idea. You might try asking the realtor.'

  'I have, but he won't tell me anything.'

  'Then perhaps there's nothing to tell.' Masako was beginning to get slightly annoyed.

  'But now my husband says that the soil is too red.' Masako cocked her head to one side and stared at her visitor. This was the first she'd heard about red soil. 'It makes a bad foundation,' the woman added, sensing her impatience.

  'It's the same foundation we have on our house.'

  'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said, looking guilty. Masako turned away, to put an end to the conversation.

  'I think it should be fine,' she told her.

  'Then there's no problem with drainage or anything?'

  'We're on a slight rise here, so the run-off is okay.'

  'Yes, I suppose so,' the woman said, peering in toward the back of the house. 'Well, thank you very much.' She bowed and turned to go.

  It had been a brief conversation, but it left Masako with an uncomfortable feeling. Especially when she remembered what a neighbour had told her when she'd stopped her on the street a few days earlier.

  'Katori-san.' The older woman who lived in the house right behind hers taught flower-arranging there. She was straightforward and sensible and Masako got along with her better than with most of the other women in the neighbourhood. 'Do you have a minute?' she said, tugging at Masako's sleeve and lowering her voice. 'I wanted to tell you about something odd that happened the other day.'

  'What was that?'

  'Someone from your company came around asking a lot of questions.'

  'My company?' Masako immediately assumed it must be Yoshiki's office, or perhaps a bank. Still, there was no reason for anyone to be investigating Yoshiki; and Nobuki wasn't old enough yet for that kind of thing.

  'I'm sure he said he was from the factory,' she said, frowning doubtfully, 'but I thought it might be a detective agency or something like that. He asked all sorts of questions.'

  'Such as?'

  'Who lives with you, your daily routine, your reputation in the neighbourhood, that kind of thing. Of course, I didn't tell him anything, but he might have heard plenty from other sources,' she said, nodding toward the house next door where an old couple lived. When Nobuki was in middle school, they'd frequently complained that his stereo was too loud. They would probably have been only too glad to go into the details of Masako's life.

  'Did he really go around asking everyone?' Masako said, suddenly uneasy.

  'So it seems. I saw him snooping around your place and then ringing their doorbell. I
t's a bit worrying, isn't it?'

  'Did he say why he was investigating us?'

  'Now, that was the strange part. He said you were being considered as a full-time, regular employee.'

  'Nonsense,' Masako muttered. Part-timers could only be promoted to semi-regular status, not to official full-time employment, and even for that kind of promotion you had to have three years of service. The man was obviously lying.

  'What did he look like?' she asked.

  'He was young, wore a nice suit.' Jumonji came immediately to mind, but they'd known each other for years and he had no reason to be checking into her background. It might be the police, but they wouldn't need to work undercover like that.

  It was at that moment that Masako first sensed a presence, someone who was lurking just beyond the edge of her awareness. Not the police, though she was sure they were watching too, but some unknown party. It occurred to her that this woman, Morisaki, who had turned up so suddenly at Yayoi's place, might be connected in some way. The fact that Yayoi didn't seem at all suspicious was odd in itself - perhaps a sign of how good they were at keeping whatever they were planning secret. The police were too clumsy for it.

  First Morisaki, then the young man, and now this dowdy woman asking about real estate. If they were all connected, then her opponent was working with a team of sorts. But who was it? And what did they have to gain from all this? She felt a sudden surge of fear, a fear of the unknown. She wondered for a moment whether she should let Yoshie and Yayoi know what she'd discovered, but having no firm proof, she decided against it.

  -

  When she got to work that night, Masako realised that the guardhouse in the parking lot had been completed. The tiny structure stood empty, its little window still dark. Getting out of her car, she stood staring at it as Kuniko's Golf came careening into the lot, raising a shower of gravel in its wake. Masako flinched, sensing the hostility in this manoeuvre.

  It took Kuniko several tries to angle the car into the space, though even then it was crooked. Pulling sharply on the parking brake, she looked out the window at Masako.