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

in 1959 he helped set up a corporate underling for the Seiwakai, persuading his right-hand man, Tomoharu Okada, to create the Okada Association while he stepped behind the scenes. That was the start of his fixer business.

There was no way to know how many bribes Tamaru had smoothed the way for since then, but Shiroyama had heard that his dealings with Hinode started in 1962 when Tamaru had volunteered to act as a pipeline between the company and politico pockets over the license for a subsidiary company in the land transportation business. Though this affiliation could be described as nondescript, the fact that a single phone call, summons, or invitation to a restaurant from Tamaru was never anything less than a tacit threat was conveyed clearly in Kurata’s eyes the night Shiroyama met Tamaru. As he sat with the two of them, it was Shiroyama’s first faint glimpse of the world in which Kurata had been submerged for years, and though he thought he had been keenly aware of Kurata’s feelings, looking back he had serious doubts about how much he had truly understood.

At that gathering two years ago, Shiroyama did as Kurata had instructed him, courteously and simply bowing his head and thanking Tamaru several times. But Tamaru had left them with the parting words, “Consider this an uncontested divorce,” implying that, even though Hinode had paid the settlement and effectively severed ties with Okada, hard feelings would continue to linger. Vividly recalling Tamaru’s snake-like eyes, Shiroyama asked cautiously, “How can I help you today?”

“Oh, it’s just that I saw the papers this morning. You and I are hardly strangers, so I thought I ought to say something. If there’s any trouble, Tamaru can be of assistance.”

“Very considerate of you, I’m much obliged.”

“My hunch has never been wrong, Shiroyama-san. If your family is in trouble, it might even be necessary to forcefully snuff out the news reports while there’s still time. Better to do something than to sit around worrying, you know.”

“I’m not concerned about what the newspapers have been reporting since it’s a completely unfounded misunderstanding.”

“If you say so. Whatever the case, let me know if you need me.”

That was the end of their conversation. There was no question that Tamaru had been alluding to the matter of his niece Yoshiko. Where did he catch wind of it? Shiroyama was already asking himself. If Tamaru had homed in on not only the trouble over the recruitment exam but also the connection to the dead student’s girlfriend back in 1990, then perhaps he had heard it from the student’s surviving family members?

What is Tamaru’s aim? The answer to this question was clear. He must be applying pressure on the land purchase deal that had been deadlocked, but to do so without any subtlety at a time like this meant that perhaps he had another ulterior motive.

Okada has already sussed out the details with Yoshiko . . . The astonishment that had buzzed in his chest during the phone call had already galloped through him, but what remained was remorse for not having considered these consequences when he was released. Yet even if he had, would there have been any other alternative for him? Would it have compelled him to tell the police everything? He interrogated himself, but the only conclusion he reached was that at this point in time he could not go back on his words, publicly or privately. He had landed himself in a complicated position, and was only half convinced about his decision.

On the phone last night with his niece Yoshiko, there had been nothing in her voice to indicate she had any inkling that suspicions were swirling around the trouble with Takayuki Hatano from four and a half years ago—she had simply been happy that her uncle had returned home safe. Shiroyama now gave some thought to how, as he had listened to her bright voice, he had repeatedly asked himself what this young woman meant to him. He had always seemed to favor the playful and cheery Yoshiko over his own daughter, who resembled her parents with her tendency to suppress her emotions, but his fondness was not so much for Yoshiko personally—rather, he simply considered her a balm for the eyes and heart. Now that Yoshiko had her own family and was a mother herself, it was beyond consideration that he, as her uncle, could in any way shoulder the weight of her life as a grown woman. And yet, what does that matter? Was there any point in contradicting the statements he had already made publicly and putting Yoshiko and her family in jeopardy so that he might contend with Tamaru and Okada?

After debating these things, Shiroyama reached the decision that he would first consult with Kurata about what Tamaru had said. Then, at 9:30 a.m., fifteen minutes later than scheduled, he entered the underground storage room that had been designated as the control center, where he sat for a second interview with the police.

There, arranged on a table, were ten different bean-jam buns, five varieties of cream buns, thirty beverage products in paper cartons, and four brands of canned food. Thus began the task of identifying each of the items that Shiroyama had eaten during his confinement. It seemed to Shiroyama that the investigator was fixated on the canned pork and beans and fruit-flavored milk, but whatever reason why was unclear.

久保晴久　Haruhisa Kubo

When Chief Inspector of First Investigation Hidetsugu Kanzaki appeared at the regularly scheduled 11 a.m. press conference, his opening remarks were predictable enough. “The three papers that wrote about the matter of the 1990 tape in their morning editions ought to be ashamed of themselves. The articles in these three papers represent not only an unwarranted attack on Hinode Beer as the victim, but they could also serve to benefit the perpetrators who are threatening Hinode. It shows a lack of consideration for the individuals involved in the matter of the tape, in particular the deceased and their surviving family