Tatsuyama had identified for the detective the arena entrance normally used by the gyoji, sumo’s referees. He found an inconspicuous perch on the ledge of a nearby granite planter box, took a seat, and waited for Kimura Shonosuke. Let’s see, he thought, I’m looking for a man in his late fifties. Short. Full head of salt-and-pepper hair.
The referees would arrive dressed in street clothes rather than in the elaborate medieval costumes that clearly display their rank. Based on Tatsuyama’s description, Kobayashi might confuse Kimura with any similar-looking individual. He would have only a few opportunities to ask for the venerable chief referee without beginning to draw suspicion.
At last, a gentleman of the correct age, height, build, and hair color approached, but he was wearing sunglasses. Tatsuyama told Kobayashi that Kimura-gyoji did not wear glasses. It was already approaching midmorning, however, and Kobayashi didn’t want to risk missing the man he needed to see. This man fit Tatsuyama’s description of the gyoji in every way except for the glasses, so the detective folded his newspaper, stood, and strode forward to intercept the gentleman just before he reached the doors to the arena.
“Excuse me, Kimura-tate-gyoji?” Kobayashi asked respectfully.
“Oh, no, that is not me,” the gentleman said. “The tate-gyoji is right back there.” The man pointed to two other gentlemen conversing several yards away. He smiled amiably.
“Arigatou gozaimasu,” the detective said with a polite bow.
Soon, Kimura Shonosuke finished his conversation. Kobayashi approached him as unobtrusively and respectfully as he could. “Kimura-gyoji, may I have a word with you, please? I’ve just left yokozuna Tatsuyama at a certain small shrine in Nerima-ku. The priest at that shrine said we should speak with you.”
Kimura-gyoji took in what Kobayashi had just said, glanced around cautiously, and then said softly, “Come this way. Quickly, please.”
The two men hurried to the arena entrance. The young doorman recognized Kimura-gyoji immediately and bowed. When the gyoji told the doorman that Kobayashi was with him, the young man bowed again deferentially. The detective and the gyoji hurried down a service hallway and ducked into a large storage room. The referee locked the door behind them.
“If the priest sent you to me, I will listen to what you have to say, and I will help you if I can,” the gyoji said.
At that, Detective Kobayashi gave the esteemed referee a summary of the drama, including a short list of those whom Yamada had already won over. He concluded with what Tatsuyama proposed to do in response.
“If time is critical,” Kimura-gyoji said, “then we need to slyly contact several people right here in this building without wasting a moment. Have you met Tatsuyama’s close friend Masaru?”
Kobayashi acknowledged that they had met briefly a week ago, but he wasn’t sure he could recognize him among a crowd of sumotori.
“Don’t worry, then. Wait here. I’ll send him here to you. You’ll recognize him when alone with him, I’m sure. I’ll also send Junichiro, Coach Ikeda’s assistant. Again, don’t leave this room. I’ll be back shortly.”
With that said, the gyoji exited. Kobayashi checked his watch. It was 10:05 a.m.
Minutes passed. Half an hour passed. No one showed up.
Kobayashi grew impatient. He thought about other options. Kobayashi didn’t know the old priest, and he didn’t know the referee. Had Tatsuyama’s trust in the old priest been misplaced? Had the old priest given senile advice?
The detective became increasingly agitated after fifteen more minutes. He told himself that if no one showed up by eleven, he would leave and start on a new plan.
No sooner had Kobayashi set a deadline than someone inserted a key into the doorknob. Masaru or Junichiro wouldn’t have a key to the storage room, would they? The lock turned, and the door began to swing open. The detective dashed to hide behind a cart loaded high with folding tables. He didn’t quite make it.
“Who are you?” the man at the door said. “What are you doing in here?”
Kobayashi turned to see a uniformed building maintenance employee. He realized he had done more to rouse suspicion by trying to hide than he would’ve if he had simply faced whoever was entering.
Staring at the maintenance man, he stammered, “I-I have a nervous condition. Sometimes I just can’t stand to be in a crowd. I n-needed a moment to pull myself together. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t be in here.” The look on the maintenance worker’s face clearly said, “I’m waiting. You can leave now.”
The detective held his ground, faking a slight tremble.
Finally the maintenance man let out an exasperated sigh. “My wife suffers from the same thing. I’ll give you a few minutes. But please, turn off the lights and lock the door behind you when you leave.” He averted his eyes.
“I-I will. I’m sorry. I won’t be long. Just a few minutes.”
The maintenance guy exited, pulling the door behind him. Kobayashi watched the shadow of his feet move away from the gap at the base of the door.
The detective blew out a stream of air.
Five minutes later there was a faint knock at the door. Kobayashi cautiously unlocked it and prepared to push his way out if things didn’t look right. His worries abated when he recognized Masaru, Tatsuyama’s friend. The sumotori was accompanied by Junichiro, who looked very stern.
“Where’s Kimura-gyoji?” Kobayashi asked.
“Don’t worry, he’s taking care of another part of the plan,” Junichiro whispered. “How is our friend Tatsuyama holding up?”
Kobayashi said, “A Yamada goon cut him pretty bad, but the injury’s been well cared for. As for his mood, he’s ready for action.”
Junichiro and Masaru were pleased to hear the news from someone who had personally seen the yokozuna.
“And what about Coach Ikeda?” Masaru asked.
“Coach Ikeda will recover,” the detective said. “I just don’t like having him in police custody right now. We may be able to do something for him, too, if this plan works.”
“If this plan doesn’t work, we’ll all need plane tickets for Hawaii…and fast,” Junichiro said.
Kobayashi nodded grimly. “As I explain the plan, it’s critical that you remember every detail. If any of the particulars are unfamiliar to you, please ask me to cover them again. You’ll need to repeat this plan precisely to each of the other parties involved. We’ve only got one chance at this—there’s no dress rehearsal. And you’re right—if the plan fails, not only will the women and Coach Ikeda remain out of our reach, but you and I may spend the rest of our lives as hunted men—at least as long as we’re on Japanese soil.”
“And you’re willing to take that risk?” Junichiro asked.
“I am,” Kobayashi assured him.
“And you, Masaru?”
“Hai!” he said, his face and voice resolute.
Kobayashi looked each of them in the eye. “Let’s get to work, then. Time is short.”
38
Yamada Hideyoshi entered the four-digit code. The magnetic lock released the sliding door to his daughter’s bedroom. He stepped inside to find Naoko standing at the full-length window. She had a spectacular view of Tokyo Bay. Folding her arms, she neither turned nor greeted him.
“Do you not yet understand, Naoko-chan?” He planted his feet on the thick carpet and clasped his hands behind his back. “You serve your father whether or not you want to. So why don’t you embrace your destiny? You were born to this great family. Once you decide to serve your family willingly, perhaps you may regain our trust. And then, your liberty.”
He could see the reflection of her face in the glass. It was expressionless. Her eyes stared, perhaps at the bay, perhaps at nothing in particular.
“Is the other girl dead?” she asked. Her voice was devoid of emotion.
“Iie, of course not,” he replied. “She will serve me yet, in some way and at some time. Just as you have, and just as you will continue to.”
&nb
sp; “I won’t argue with you,” she said. “It makes no difference what I say to you. You’ll do what you decide to do. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I’ll have someone bring you tea and pastries,” Yamada said.
He made a last sweeping inspection of the room. Its modern concrete walls were adorned with panels from traditional Japanese screens in golds, greens, reds, and blues. Naoko’s bed was neatly made, as though it were the only thing she could control. The silk curtains were pulled back and tied to provide an unobstructed view. Satisfied, Yamada wheeled and walked out, pulling and locking the sliding door as he went.
He paused at the doorway of a small room just down the hall from Naoko’s bedroom. A middle-aged woman sat at a panel of closed-circuit TV screens, monitoring the activities of the household.
“Keep a very close watch on her,” he said. “She’s hasn’t yet regained hope. Do you understand?”
The woman bowed silently.
Just then Hiroko entered the hall. She wore a muted floral kimono as she always did in Yamada’s household. On a black, lacquered tray, she carried the tea and pastries her employer had ordered for Naoko. When her eyes met Yamada’s, she paused.
“Talk to Naoko about Hideo,” Yamada instructed her. “Get her mind off the yokozuna. Rebuild her hope. You know how to do that.”
“Hai, Yamada-sama.” Hiroko inclined her head.
Yamada left the two women and headed to the spacious multi-level living area of the mansion. There he collected Haruta and Yamashita and headed out the front door to his waiting silver limousine.
Once the car was in motion, motoring toward the Ryogoku Kokugikan forty-five minutes away, Yamada asked Haruta, “Is there any news on Tatsuyama or that detective, Kobayashi?”
“Iie, Yamada-san.” Haruta shook his head. “Neither one has returned to Ikeda’s stable since the incident at the park. They haven’t gone to police headquarters either. People will let us know if they surface.”
“And Ikeda?”
“He’s shown slight improvement. But he’s not going anywhere soon.”
“Have any of his people tried to contact him?”
“Other than the detective who visited him on the first day, we’ve been able to keep Ikeda isolated from his friends.”
Yamada looked out the window of the limousine as he contemplated his options. Finally he said, “We will give Tatsuyama one more chance—and only one. If he refuses again to work with us, he must become like his coach.”
Turning to the former sumotori, he said, “Yamashita, if our last appeal to Tatsuyama fails, we are going to devise a way to take that simple assault charge and add to it a new charge. Attempted murder. You will be covered, just as before, but he will be caught while trying to exact ultimate revenge.”
“Hai, Yamada-sama. I’ll enjoy the role-play,” Yamashita responded with a smile.
Returning his attention to Haruta, Yamada asked casually, “Now, who does Hashimaru face in the final bout tonight?”
39
Only minutes after Yamada had left home, Hideo—the young policeman Naoko had dated before she met Tatsuyama—knocked at the front door of the Yamada mansion. Hiroko opened the door.
“Konnichi wa, Hiroko-san,” he said. One glance told him he was not someone she expected to see today. “You’re surprised to see me here.”
“I am surprised, Hideo -san. Yamada-sama just left for today’s sumo tournament.”
“Hai, I just met him at the street. He sent me in to see Naoko.”
Hiroko nodded. “Yamada-sama told me to speak to her about you. He hopes thinking of you will lift her spirits. I’m afraid she has become terribly depressed.”
“Then if you will, please, ask her to come out to have a few words with me.”
“Of course.” Hiroko invited the young policeman in and went to inform Naoko.
While waiting, Hideo surveyed the expansive living room. There were multiple sofas and chairs clustered on three tiers. Across the room, on the second level, stood a gleaming grand piano. The most impressive features, however, were the two lighted museum cases containing suits of intricate samurai armor.
Minutes later, Naoko came out to the living room. Hiroko retreated to the kitchen.
As Naoko crossed the room, Hideo’s stomach fluttered. This girl is so incredibly beautiful, he mused. He stepped forward to meet her. “Hiroko tells me you’ve been going through a difficult time.”
She nodded and rubbed the side of her nose, barely making eye contact.
Hideo glanced side to side. He knew security cameras recorded everything in Yamada’s home. Stepping close to Naoko, he spoke softly. “Hiroko thinks I’m here because your father sent me. I’m not.”
Naoko at last met Hideo’s gaze but still said nothing.
“What you’ve been put through is horrible. No father should use his daughter that way.”
“Why’re you here, Hideo?” she asked. Her eyes showed caution.
“Come with me, Naoko,” he whispered. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention toward the kitchen. Hiroko had stepped to the doorway for a look.
“It’s OK, Hiroko,” Naoko said. “Hideo and I are just talking.”
The older woman returned to the kitchen.
Once Hiroko disappeared, Naoko turned back to Hideo. The caution in her eyes now bordered on fear. “You said my father didn’t send you. And you’re asking me to leave here with you?”
“I want to take you away from here…away from him,” Hideo said.
“Are you insane? Do you know—”
“He’ll be at the Kokugikan for hours. We can be long gone by then.”
“He’ll hunt you down and cut you to pieces!”
“There are lots of places to hide in Tokyo. Then we can leave the city. Maybe leave the country.”
Naoko took Hideo’s hand and led him to a sofa beside the stairs. “This is the only place in the living room that can’t be seen on camera,” she said. “Now listen, Hideo, he kept us apart for four months to test my trustworthiness. I’m sure he used that time to thoroughly check your background, too. He’ll allow me to date you now, even though you’re a policeman. But if we try to run and he ever catches us…my life will be over, and yours may be too.”
“Isn’t that a little melodramatic?”
“If you think so, then clearly you don’t know what kind of family you’re involved with here. Naturally, he won’t kill me, but I’ll never again experience a day’s independence. As for you…” She shook her head.
Hideo still kept his voice low. “Come with me, Naoko.”
“Heaven knows I want my freedom, Hideo, but I can’t.”
“Believe me, this is no half-cooked plan. I’ve worked out every detail.”
Naoko shook her head again. “My father is a master of deception. He knows every trick in the book. He’d unravel your plan in days at most. Besides, what are you planning to do—quit the police department? He’s got dozens of police officers in his back pocket. You wouldn’t last a day if you returned there after taking me away.”
“This is the thing—he won’t know I’m the one who took you away.”
Naoko stared at Hideo, then at the floor. “Leave the country? Won’t know it’s you? You’re not making any sense.”
Hideo glanced toward the kitchen and back. “You can trust me, Naoko. I want this for you, not just for me.”
She looked up. “There’s still something else.”
“What else?”
“I tried to run away from my father yesterday. So now he’s got everyone watching me extra closely.”
“Get Hiroko to take you for a walk in the garden. I’ll explain the rest if you can promise me that much.”
Naoko shook her head. “When I tried to run away yesterday…” She clenched her fists. “I can’t tell you. You’d better go, Hideo.”
“You can tell me, Naoko. If you don’t want to come with me now, I’ll come back again, on your father’s terms. I’ll see you
when I can and try to give you hope. But tell me what’s upsetting you so much now.”
She was still for a moment.
“What was it you thought you couldn’t tell me, Naoko?”
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said. “When I tried to run away yesterday, I asked a friend to help me. As it turned out, two friends actually came and put themselves at risk.”
Hideo wondered how this new twist would affect his aims. “Obviously, you were unsuccessful. What happened?”
Naoko bit her lip. She finally said, “My father’s men caught one of my friends, and he’s holding her captive here. I can’t leave. I don’t know what would happen to her. It could go much worse for her if I ran away with you.”
He wondered what would hurt Yamada. Taking Naoko would certainly wound him most deeply. Taking his hostage away would derail whatever he hoped to achieve by using the girl as leverage.
“Find her, Naoko. Find her, and we’ll take her with us. We’ll get police protection. They can help us go into hiding. You need to do this, Naoko. You can’t help your father keep a kidnapped woman here. If you know she’s here and you don’t help her, the police may charge you as an accessory to the crime.”
“But I’m a victim of the same crime.”
Hideo shook his head. “The police may be sympathetic, but they may be forced to prosecute you if you don’t act.”
Naoko bounced her knee nervously. “OK, listen. Hiroko does not like my father at all. The only reason she’s stayed here since my mother died is to help me survive. Hiroko has to be in on this.”
She wasn’t making this any easier. Or was she? “You told me long ago how much Hiroko has meant to you,” he said. “Honestly, we could use Hiroko’s help. Once again, get her to take you for a walk to the east wall, about twenty-five feet away from the bay. You’ll need to go over the wall there. I’ll be on the other side to take you to a van.”
“How will Hiroko get over the wall? She’s not young anymore.”
Sumotori: A 21st Century Samurai Thriller Page 18