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maiden name was Okamura, wasn’t it? Do you have a relationship with her family?”

“Barely.”

“Does the name Seiji Okamura sound familiar?”

“No.”

“He would have been your wife’s uncle.”

“My wife’s maiden name is Monoi.”

“Seiji Monoi was adopted and became Okamura. I’m sure you’ve heard the name Okamura at least.”

“No. I hardly see anyone from the Monoi side of the family.”

“I guess this is what they call an amazing coincidence, because it turns out that Seiji Okamura also used to work for Hinode’s research lab. He was a graduate of Tohoku Imperial University and seems to have been quite accomplished. He started working for Hinode in 1937 and left in 1947, but the letter he wrote to Hinode just after he resigned from the company still exists. This is it, right here.”

“Why would you have a letter addressed to Hinode?”

“As for its source, well, let’s just say Hinode lost track of it forty-three years ago. Now, what’s crucial about the contents . . .” Nishimura said and slowly waved the sheaf of paper in his hand. “How can I put this? Okamura himself may not have had an ulterior motive, but from the company’s perspective, the nature of this letter is not something they can simply ignore. Depending on how you read it, it can be interpreted as libel or blackmail.”

Who was this relative of his wife he had never heard of? This stranger who worked for Hinode half a century ago and sent them a threatening letter? Deep within Hatano’s mind, now loosened and relaxed from the whisky, new and unaccustomed thoughts began to percolate.

“In the letter Okamura-san refers to four of his colleagues at the company. All four of them were from a segregated buraku community. One of them left the company of his own accord while the other three were wrongfully terminated, but the liberation committee at the time had researched the case and there’s a record of them submitting a claim to Hinode—so what Okamura-san writes is true. Anyhow, Hinode, learning from the experience of being justly suspected of wrongdoing, henceforth became especially sensitive to problems of this nature.”

Hatano stared absent-mindedly at the man’s lips as they continued to move. With each passing moment, his words seemed to lose their meaning and disintegrate, as Hatano felt his memories of the buraku village—memories that had been brewing in his own head for the past five days—gradually becoming meaningless as well. At the end of the long and dark tunnel of prejudice in which the history of this country was created, people still used the barriers that remained in some places as an excuse—but what did they really want? If the barriers were taken away, these same people were likely to denounce the widespread ignorance and indifference outside the tunnel, then proceed to erect a new barrier so that they could stubbornly cling to defending their reason for existence. Equality and prejudice—wasn’t the role of each of them, complementing the other, simply to guarantee this small sector of humanity their raison d’être? On the other hand, his twenty-two-year-old son had no connection to any such conversation about equality or discrimination, nor did he play any part in the world that they were discussing . . .

Hatano poured more whisky into his glass and continued to gulp it down. It seemed to him that Nishimura’s languid drawl shouldn’t be considered critical or threatening. It sounded more and more like static noise that had nothing to do with himself or his son, and it was only the alcohol that gave him the strength—barely—to keep listening.

Meanwhile, Nishimura continued to run his mouth. “By the way, Hinode has another delicate external matter pending. Have you read today’s Nikkei?”

Nishimura’s companion took out two photocopied pages from the breast pocket of his suit and placed them on the table. Both of them were non-boldface newspaper articles from below the fold in the business and financial columns. One read, “Chunichi Mutual Savings Seeks Bank for Settlement Approval,” while the other was titled, “Ogura Transport Announces Management Changes.”

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard the name Ogura Transport. They are a major player in land transportation. Chunichi Mutual Savings is the Ogura Group’s leading bank. These two articles are related. You know the old proverb, ‘When the wind blows, the coopers prosper’? One event can have an unexpected effect on another. What’s more, Hinode is also connected . . .”

Hatano glanced over the articles to stave off his lassitude. During an inspection by the Bank of Japan, several obscure points were discovered in the management of Chunichi Mutual Savings Bank. Of their ¥850-billion loan balance, ¥280 billion had insufficient security. They were suspected of dispersing loans to avoid hitting the maximum allowable real estate loans and broker loans, and the investigation by the Ministry of Finance was ongoing, the article said. Meanwhile, Ogura Transport suffered a ¥50-billion stock loss and, seeing as they would likely be in the red this quarter, current management would take responsibility and step down. Having reading as much, Hatano tossed back the copies.

“First, Chunichi Mutual Savings Bank. They’ve got a hefty trillion yen in total deposits. According to our sources, we know that half of their total loans, meaning five hundred billion, is irrecoverable, but their biggest problem is that the few city banks that are their biggest shareholders are standing ready to take over their hundred branches. First thing next year, they will announce their absorption and merger. After all, the major city banks and the finance ministry have been plotting together to make sure this will happen.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Now, just listen. As for Ogura Transport, the stock blunder that’s mentioned in the article is just a front. In reality, a certain group of corporate raiders has bought up the majority of Ogura stock on the market, and now they are demanding that Ogura and its main bank, Chunichi Mutual Savings Bank, buy back the stocks they’ve snapped up. In short, the corporate raiders have something on both Ogura and

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