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

knew the truth about Hinode’s Commercial Code violations, while Hinode possessed information on Okada and their affiliates’ expansive interrelations with various organizations and corporations.

Thanks to Kurata’s tactics, Hinode was able to break away, but around the same time, Mainichi Beer had been exposed for furnishing profits to a corporate extortionist, which not only coerced them into changing over their management, but also affected their stock price. As a result of these charges, the police were said to have seized a huge trove of documents that revealed the links between crime syndicates and corporations, and this must have been a serious blow to Okada as well. Because of Mainichi Beer’s exposure, the National Tax Agency had audited Hinode as well, but since there were no tracks in their account books and registries, Hinode managed—narrowly—to avoid any further trouble. Now that conditions surrounding the underground economy were becoming more punitive, who knew how long Okada would just sit idly by? Even though they had reached an agreement with Hinode, might they not still demand something else? There was no way to dispel that anxiety.

“The police are damn sloppy . . .” Suzuki’s tone, as he spat out these words, quavered a little.

It was true—ever since the law against organized crime took effect in 1991, the police had been pressuring corporations to eradicate the extortionists, but if these were the consequences, they were too much for the corporations to bear. The managing director of a major city bank’s being shot and killed in broad daylight—that was far too high a price to pay, and was absolutely unacceptable.

“Akio Yamashita and I were in the same class at law school,” Suzuki continued.

“I remember that.”

“He was an honest and courteous man. I feel as if I’ve been shot myself. Terrible—just terrible.”

As Shiroyama listened to Suzuki grow emotional, an image of his own wife of many years, Reiko, alone at home in Sanno Ni-chome, flashed through his mind, and he made a mental note to tell her to be extra vigilant about locking up the house from now on. It was rare for him to imagine the faces of his family while he was out working.

Back at the eighth hole, the president of Tomioka—the third player on Shiroyama’s ninth team—was already standing at the tee.

“Oh, excuse me. My turn is next,” he said to Suzuki and took off with his wood in hand.

Shiroyama returned to the game, but of course he was distracted and ended up with a double bogey for both the eighth and ninth holes. Even Kurata seemed to have bogeyed on the ninth, a par-three.

After they had finished the front nine, the Hinode staff gathered in a separate room, but the executives and employees alike were dumbstruck. Anything related to Okada had always been handled by Suzuki and Kurata behind the scenes, and even though they received summarized reports at board meetings, most of the members thought of it as someone else’s concern—even Shiroyama himself felt that way, to some extent. It was understandable then that at the level of branch offices and sales offices, they had an even more uncertain grasp of the situation.

Meanwhile Kurata, with the typically placid, torpedo-like façade he wore in public, offered nothing more than a brief explanation of the situation and instructions regarding their response to each of Toei’s clients. It was decided that President Suzuki and Shiroyama would make an appearance at the wake that would likely be held by the deceased’s family as soon as that evening.

Shiroyama himself simply announced that tomorrow morning’s board meeting would take place an hour earlier than usual, at eight o’clock. In addition to the existing meeting agenda, they would need to discuss new security precautions for executives.

“Well then, please go to lunch. Explain to your distributors as instructed. Thank you.”

They adjourned after less than five minutes, and Shiroyama and Suzuki, who had to return to Tokyo, hastily changed their clothes and set out for the ride home in a company car. Shiroyama, feeling the need to bolster his darkening spirits, tried to think about their new product for next spring, a second lager that was currently in the testing phase. He would like to think that sales of the new product would be at least fifty million cases within the first year, especially if they hoped to reinvigorate the sluggish beer business. He preferred to occupy his mind with such things, but with Suzuki there with him, he could hardly afford to do so.

“By the way, last week I saw S. at a party for the LDP,” Suzuki started to say, once they were in the car. “He said their coalition government will be crushed sooner or later, so he’s counting on me in the event of a general election. I’ve never heard him speak so bluntly.”

“Did he mean to say that a fundraising ticket is not enough?”

“It seemed that way. I have no idea what he must be thinking at a time like this, while rumors are swirling around after the Ogura scandal. If you happen to see him anytime soon, you’d better watch out, too. There’ll be trouble if the likes of Tamaru get involved.”

“I’ll decline anything other than a fundraising ticket.”

“If only it were so easy.”

“We need to at least make our intentions clear.”

Shiroyama felt hollowed out, forced to juxtapose the thought of the second lager—their single beacon of hope—with his feelings of self-reproach and loathing toward the less-than-idealistic corporate culture. But the brazenness that required him to deliberately set aside his true feelings—that was something he had mastered in the last four years.

3

Seizo Monoi

“Monoi-san, shaved ice!” From inside the store, the lady pharmacist called out to him. “Strawberry or melon syrup—which do you want?”

Her loud voice flew past Monoi’s head and evaporated in the scorching sunlight as he watered down the sidewalk.

“None for me. You go on ahead,” Monoi called back after a moment, then looked down at the morning glories beneath the woven reed shade. In the intense heat of the summer they