Lady Joker, Volume 1 by Kaoru Takamura (lightest ebook reader .txt) 📕

Though Kubo’s body was heavy with exhaustion after all this time stuck in the kisha club without any news or developments, he still felt a reflexive tightening in his gut. This would be the twenty-ninth of the briefings that had been held every two hours since the incident occurred. The reporting battle would now commence. Had the president been found at last, without the demand for a ransom ever being delivered? Was he unharmed? Where was he found? What about the kidnappers?

The embedded newspaper and broadcast journalists, along with camera crews, flooded into the conference hall, everyone clamoring to get to the front. If the camera crews had been given the okay to shoot, then without a doubt the news was either that the president had been rescued or the situation had taken a turn for the worse. The Public Information director came striding into the hall, which was now packed with a phalanx of cameras and reporters from every media company. The director—the same character who just an hour ago had had bags under his eyes and whose voice had been full of gravel—had been resurrected. He called out at the top of his lungs, “Is everyone all set to start?” Then, instead of the director of Criminal Administration, who had taken over since the second briefing, CI Director Tsuyoshi Teraoka appeared again after a long absence. His expression remained inscrutable as always, but the tension in his shoulders was plain to see.

“We’ll begin!” announced the Public Information director.

Teraoka opened with the usual “Ah, yes . . .” with which he prefaced every major announcement. His utterance was quickly obscured by the flurry of shutter clicks issuing from the cameras. The jittery heat emanating off the reporters, all gripping their pens and pencils, formed an invisible tide that surged toward the director.

“Ah, yes . . . A short time ago, at 6:28 a.m., the MPD received contact from the Yamanashi Prefectural Police Headquarters that they have taken custody of the victim in the present case, Kyosuke Shiroyama, fifty-eight years old, and we are currently confirming the details. The information we received is as follows. At 5:50 a.m. today, March twenty-seventh, at the fire station in the village of Narusawa, in the district of Minamitsuru, in Yamanashi Prefecture, known officially as the western branch office of the Kawaguchiko Fire Department, a man came in alone requesting assistance . . .”

At this point, a reporter from each broadcasting company stormed out of the hall, with the hastily scribbled name of the location in hand. The time was now 7:07 a.m. They had to immediately interrupt the on-air news broadcast with a special news bulletin.

Kubo, for his part, felt his hand that was gripping the pen turn sticky with sweat. When he heard the place names Minamitsuru and Narusawa, the first thing that came to mind was the foot of Mt. Fuji covered in deep snow, but the thought was soon replaced with surprise at the unexpected words, “a man came in alone,” and he strained his ears to hear what came next.

“After receiving a call from the fire station, an employee from Fujiyoshida Police Department, part of Yamanashi Prefectural Police, arrived on the scene to confirm the individual’s name and address, and once it became clear that the individual was in fact Kyosuke Shiroyama, fifty-eight years old, the president of Hinode Beer, he was taken into custody at 6:20 a.m. We’ve received word that Mr. Shiroyama is suffering from severe exhaustion, but that he is relatively calm, able to speak clearly, and there is no apparent injury to his person. As of 6:55 a.m., Mr. Shiroyama has been taken to Fujiyoshida Police Department. Several officers from Investigation Headquarters are already on their way to the scene, expected to arrive around eight. That is all for now.”

Teraoka ended his remarks there. Even before he had read aloud the last line of his announcement, this time it was one reporter from each newspaper who stormed out of the hall. At Toho, Kuriyama was the one appointed this role. Whatever the circumstances, once the arena had been identified, the battle was to get their own reporter there even a minute before any of the other papers.

With sideways glances at the sea of reporters scrambling out of their seats, those remaining from each newspaper shifted promptly to questions. The PR director admonished the remaining camera crews, “Please refrain from shooting at this point!” but his cry was drowned out by the rush of reporters’ voices.

“When you say Mr. Shiroyama came in alone requesting assistance, does that mean he was released by the kidnappers or did he escape?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“But he must have at least given an explanation to the fireman when he dashed in there, no?!”

“At this point, we don’t have specific details.”

“That’s not a detail, it’s the most crucial point!” This protest was ignored as another reporter interposed his own question.

“Where did Mr. Shiroyama say he had been during the last fifty-six hours?”

“We don’t have an understanding of that at this time.”

“What was Mr. Shiroyama wearing when he requested assistance?”

“A dark navy suit. Leather shoes. No necktie. Reportedly carrying a brown Burberry attaché case.”

“What about what was inside the case or in his wallet? Was anything stolen?”

“We cannot confirm that.”

“What were Mr. Shiroyama’s first words when he dashed into the station?”

“We don’t have the exact information yet. According to the report we received from the prefectural police, Mr. Shiroyama gave his name to the fireman on duty at the station and asked him to contact the police.”

“And you’re saying he was calm at the time?”

“We have not confirmed the assessments made by the prefectural police at this time.”

“Did Mr. Shiroyama mention anything about whether the kidnappers made any demands of him?”

“At this time, we are not aware of such details.”

“Was the region around Lake Kawaguchi included in your area of investigation?”

“That is related to our ongoing investigation, so we are not able to comment.”

“Did Mr. Shiroyama himself