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

Thinking that he had become confused all over again, Shiroyama buried himself in the backseat of the car and hung his head. The only thing he was sure about was that the situation in which he now found himself would not be so different if he were the culprit, and he had the vague realization that the reality he had been thrown into—the press corps before him just a part of it—was far from what he had imagined during his kidnapping.

根来史彰　Fumiaki Negoro

The early edition of every evening newspaper featured a full-banner headline, in huge print that leaped off the front page. Toho News had decided on hinode beer president freed after fifty-six hours, adding a vertical headline that read, late-night abduction and confinement, and running a panoramic photo of Shiroyama’s residence that stretched across four columns. When the early editions came out, every paper merely reiterated the substance of the press conference verbatim, so the battle had yet to commence; nevertheless, articles and photos related to the Hinode incident were set to dominate the front page and the majority of the Metro page for the second and third editions, as well as most of the final fourth edition.

The time was now just before ten in the morning. Every television monitor on the news room floor flickered with the ongoing report from the commercial broadcasting company. Against the roaring whir of a helicopter, a shrill female reporter shouted, “The car with President Shiroyama inside has just passed the Sagamiko Interchange. In about forty minutes they will arrive at Omori Police Department, where the Investigation Headquarters is located!”

Tabe, leading the coverage as slot editor, hung up the direct line to the MPD kisha club and barked out orders. “Next press conference at twelve noon! Layout! Keep two columns open on the front page. We’ll insert a document. Okamura, how are we doing with the expert comments? Negoro! I want another piece for the Metro page. What have you got?”

“A chronological history of corporate terrorism, a profile of the president, remarks about the president from other industry figures, previous arrests in incidents involving abduction and unlawful confinement, a list of lawsuits involving Hinode Beer, the commercial environment of the beer industry, Hinode’s new product launch that occurred on the day of the incident, the corporate image of Hinode Beer judged by its popularity among new recruits . . .” Negoro randomly cataloged the possibilities as he leafed through the stack of drafts on his desk with his left hand. His right hand held the phone, a call with a reporter at their Hachioji branch that he had placed on hold, while one eye was still on the computer screen, where he had been taking notes.

“Let me see the drafts of that profile of the president and the remarks about him,” Tabe said.

Negoro grabbed the article with his left hand and passed it to a reporter nearby, saying, “Give this to the slot,” before returning to his call. “Sorry about that, please go on.”

The reporter on the other end of the line continued. “. . . So, the talk of a land purchase came up in early 1940—apparently they signed a memorandum with the landowner—but in 1943 the whole thing was suddenly withdrawn, so the landowner filed a lawsuit. They later settled out of court, but I bet Hinode ended up paying them a little something. Anyway, that’s the story.”

The wall clock in the Metro section read 9:55 a.m. A half hour left before the deadline for the second edition.

Negoro typed up brief notes as he listened. Lawsuit #10: Saitama prefecture. Land purchase memo for a factory, 1940. Fully withdrawn, 1943. Landowner sues, settles out of court. * Segregated buraku community. Still hard feelings?

The reporter from Hachioji had previously worked out of the Urawa branch. He had called in after hearing about the local lawsuit from more than half a century ago by sheer chance from an acquaintance, someone from Saitama prefecture involved with the Buraku Liberation League who had seen a report about the Hinode president’s abduction and unlawful confinement on television. “It’s probably not a story worth digging up after all this time, but I’ll keep you posted just in case,” he said, and the short call from Hachioji ended there.

A legal altercation with a landowner involving a factory-site acquisition. Residents of a segregated buraku community revolting under threat of losing their tenant land. Condemnation.

Negoro took a few seconds to ruminate upon the key elements of this freshly delivered news item. The truth was, if he were to pick apart every single problem stemming from the ordinary enterprises of any company, plenty of issues would come up, and the likelihood of a connection between an incident from before the war and the present-day Hinode was small. But whether or not he understood its significance, this counted as information. Negoro’s hands moved automatically as he saved the notes he had just taken in the file with the rest of the related lawsuits.

No sooner was the draft he had just passed to the slot back on his desk than Tabe yelled, “We’ll go with the profile on the president. Cut it down to fifty lines!”

“Yes,” Negoro raised a hand and replied, but when he looked around for the reserve reporter who had written said draft, the guy was nowhere to be found. Reluctantly, he grabbed the draft that had come back and started to make corrections himself when the television above his head blared out, “The Hinode Beer press conference seems to be starting. We’ll switch over to our live coverage at Hinode’s main office!”

Negoro’s hand paused as he looked up. The screen showed two executives from Hinode Beer standing before several microphones and bowing so deeply that their foreheads almost touched the desk. One of them, a slim man with a tuft of gray hair at the crown of his head like a woodpecker, read from a script with eyes downcast. “I am Vice President Sei’ichi Shirai. I am grateful to