Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  ‘Their target audience? You mean kids?’

  ‘Yeah. Matsuura’s a broker for a shady speciality shop these days, dealing in just about everything you can imagine. Whatever they think will sell, they buy. Lately, they’ve been putting a lot of energy into kids’ software. Because Super Mario Bros. is so light on the shelves in regular stores, they don’t even have to lower prices to move serious units.’

  ‘But where does he source his carts? He got a pipeline to Nintendo or something?’

  ‘Better.’ Ryo flashed white teeth. ‘Other kids. They shoplift the carts, or steal them from their friends, and bring them in to sell. Matsuura said he has a list of over three hundred of these juvenile offenders. He buys it from them at ten to thirty per cent of retail, and sells at seventy per cent retail.’

  ‘And he wants to sell pirated Mario games at his store?’

  ‘Not just at his store. Him and a bunch of like-minded brokers got a network set up. It’s a regular pipeline of illicit goods. With a product like Mario, he claims he can move five or six thousand without even lifting a finger.’

  ‘Ryo,’ said Tomohiko, ‘you said you weren’t going to do this. You said it was too dangerous, and I agreed.’

  A wry smile came to Ryo’s lips. ‘I did. That’s why they sent Matsuura to win me over.’

  ‘Please don’t tell me it worked.’

  Ryo gave a deep sigh. He leaned forward. ‘Look, I’m doing this alone. You don’t have to be involved at all. In fact, I don’t want you involved. Hiroe either. Mum’s the word as far as she’s concerned, got it? ‘

  ‘Ryo.’ Tomohiko shook his head. ‘What happened to “too risky”?’

  ‘It’s still too risky.’

  Tomohiko began to protest, but when he saw the look of resolve in Ryo’s eyes, his heart sank. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘I’ll help you.’

  ‘No, you won’t.’

  Tomohiko sighed and looked away. This was not good.

  While the rest of the country was shutting down for the year-end holiday, Limitless stayed open until 31 December to court two potential categories of customer: the first being the people who’d waited until the last possible minute to write their New Year’s cards and came to buy a word processor in order to make their lives easier; the second small business owners who had to settle accounts at the end of the year, and showed up with a broken computer.

  Thus went Ryo’s rationale, but the fact was that, after Christmas, hardly anyone came to the shop, aside from the occasional kid who mistook them for a video game store. Tomohiko played cards with Hiroe to pass the time. They lined tricks up on the table and wondered out loud if people would soon stop playing games like Go Fish and Old Maid altogether.

  Despite a lack of customers, Ryo kept busy – working on Super Mario Bros., Tomohiko knew. He was already running out of excuses to give Hiroe.

  Matsuura showed up again on the twenty-ninth. Hiroe happened to be out at the dentist, so Tomohiko was holding the fort alone. He hadn’t seen Matsuura since his first visit to the shop. The man’s face was still pale, his eyes hidden behind those green-tinted sunglasses. When Tomohiko told him Ryo was out, he again offered to wait in the folding chair by the door.

  Matsuura took off his jacket – dark leather with fur around the collar – and hung it on the back of his chair before taking a look around the shop. ‘I’m surprised you’re still open this late in the year,’ he commented.

  Tomohiko told him it was Ryo’s policy, and Matsuura laughed, his shoulders shaking a little. ‘The boy’s got it in his genes. His pops always stayed open until the last possible minute on New Year’s Eve. Lots of people cleaning house around then, selling off stuff cheap.’

  It was the first time Tomohiko had ever heard anyone other than Ryo talk about his father.

  ‘Were you there when his father died?’ Tomohiko asked.

  Matsuura swung his eyes around to look at him. ‘Ryo tell you about that?’

  ‘A little. He said it was a mugging.’

  His dad had been stabbed and left to die – that was about all Ryo had ever said about his father, and that was years ago. The story had piqued Tomohiko’s interest, but Ryo had made it clear it wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss.

  ‘I don’t know if it was a mugging or not. I just know they never caught whoever did it.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘He was killed in an abandoned building in the neighbourhood. Stabbed in the chest.’ Matsuura frowned. ‘They took his money, too. The thing is, he was carrying a lot that day, more than he’d ever had on him. That made the police think it was someone who knew him.’ A grim smile had spread across Matsuura’s face halfway through his story, prompting a question in Tomohiko’s mind.

  ‘Were you a suspect too?’

  ‘For a while,’ Matsuura said, his smile growing wider, though there was no warmth in it. ‘See, Ryo’s old lady was a real looker in those days. When the cops found out there was a single guy working at the pawnshop, well, it got their imaginations all fired up.’

  Tomohiko blinked and looked back at him. They suspected this guy was having an affair with Ryo’s mom?

  ‘Wait, did you…?’ Tomohiko began.

  ‘Kill him? Absolutely not.’

  ‘I meant about Ryo’s mom.’

  ‘Oh,’ Matsuura said. He rubbed his chin for a moment then said, ‘Nah. I was the hired help, that’s all.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘No, I believe you,’ Tomohiko lied. It was a sure bet there had been something between Matsuura and Ryo’s mom, though he fell short of suspecting him of murdering Ryo’s father. ‘Did they check out your alibi and stuff like that?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll give those detectives one thing: they were persistent. At first they didn’t like my alibi, but luckily for me someone called the shop right around the time that his father was killed. And once they figured out it wasn’t some kinda set-up, they finally gave up.’

  ‘Lucky break for you,’ Tomohiko said. The whole thing sounded like a mystery novel. ‘How’d Ryo handle it?’

  ‘Oh, everyone sympathised with him. And we told them he was with me and his mom when it happened, so the cops didn’t pester him too much.’

  Tomohiko raised an eyebrow. ‘You told them?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Matsuura said, ‘we told them he was with us ’cause he was with us.’ He grinned, showing nicotine-stained teeth. ‘Ryo ever tell you anything about me?’

  ‘Well, he said that you worked at his father’s pawnshop and that he owed you a lot. That you basically helped raise him, kept food on the table, that kind of thing.’

  ‘He owes me, huh?’ Matsuura’s shoulders shook with a laugh. ‘That’s rich. He does owe me. More than he thinks.’

  Tomohiko was about to ask what that meant when he heard Ryo say, ‘Talking about old times?’ Tomohiko looked up to see Ryo standing in the entrance.

  ‘What’s the point talking about ancient history?’ Ryo asked, undoing his scarf. ‘What’s done is done.’

  ‘Actually, it was pretty interesting,’ Tomohiko said.

  ‘We were talking about alibis,’ Matsuura said. ‘You remember that detective, Sasagaki? That guy did not know when to give up. All those statements we gave him. I felt like we said the same thing a hundred times.’

  Ryo sat down in front of the electric heater in the corner of the shop, warming his hands. He looked around at Matsuura. ‘You need something?’

  ‘Nothing particular. Just thought I’d drop by, wish you a Happy New Year.’

  ‘Then maybe I should see you off. Sorry, but we’ve still got a lot of things that need doing today.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Me and Mario.’

  Matsuura chuckled. ‘Yes, you do. Everything going well?’

  ‘I’m on schedule.’

  Matsuura gave a satisfied nod.

  Ryo stood and wrapped his scarf back around his neck. ‘We can continue our little chat next time,’ Matsuura
said to Tomohiko as they left.

  It was a short while later when Hiroe came in. She had seen Ryo downstairs, waving off Matsuura’s taxi.

  ‘What’s Ryo’s connection to that guy?’ Hiroe wondered. ‘I mean, besides the fact that he helped them out after his father died? They seem pretty close.’

  Tomohiko shrugged. He was rapidly losing confidence in his earlier conviction that there had been something between Matsuura and Ryo’s mom. For one thing, it was hard to imagine Ryo not catching on. And then how could he explain Ryo’s friendliness to Matsuura now?

  Hiroe looked up from the office desk. ‘Is Ryo not coming back?’

  ‘Maybe not, now that you mention it.’

  Tomohiko left the shop and was about to go downstairs when he stopped. Ryo was on the staircase, his back turned to Tomohiko.

  Tomohiko almost called out to him, but his voice caught in his throat. There was something odd about Ryo as he stood there looking out of the landing window. The headlamps of passing cars scanned over his body, framing his silhouette. There was a darkness to him that reminded Tomohiko of the time when Matsuura had first walked through their door.

  As quietly as he could, Tomohiko went back to the shop.

  Business hours at Limitless for the year 1985 ended at six o’clock on 31 December. They did a big clean-up of the office, then toasted the year, just the three of them. Hiroe wanted to know what everyone’s New Year resolutions were.

  Tomohiko said he wanted to make a computer game that was as much fun as a Nintendo game.

  Ryo said he wanted to take time out for walks during the day.

  ‘Miss walking to school?’ Hiroe asked, laughing. ‘Or are you just not getting enough exercise?’

  ‘Nothing like that.’ Ryo shook his head. ‘It’s just… sometimes I feel like I spend my life under a midnight sun.’

  ‘Come again?’ Tomohiko asked.

  Ryo shook his head, finished his Heineken, and looked at them. ‘When are you two getting married?’

  Tomohiko almost choked on his beer. ‘Ah, I guess we haven’t really thought about it?’

  Ryo reached over and pulled open the drawer of his desk. Inside was a single page of printer paper and a small, flat box. Tomohiko had never seen the box before. It looked old; the corners had been worn smooth.

  Ryo opened the box and pulled out a pair of scissors. They were long, with ten centimetres or more just in the blade, and sharp-looking tips. The metal shone with a silvery light, as though newly forged, yet they were clearly antique.

  ‘Wow, nice scissors,’ Hiroe breathed.

  ‘They’re German,’ Ryo said. ‘Somebody sold ’em to our pawnshop back in the day.’ He picked up his scissors and snapped them open and shut a few times. The intersecting blades made a crisp sound in the silence of the shop.

  Picking up the piece of paper, Ryo began to make little cuts, rotating the paper smoothly as he went. Tomohiko’s eyes were glued to his fingers as his hands worked in perfect unison.

  When he was done, Ryo handed the cut paper to Hiroe.

  Her mouth opened in surprise. ‘Amazing!’

  It was two figures, a boy and a girl, holding hands. The boy was wearing a hat, and the girl had a ribbon in her hair.

  ‘That’s real impressive,’ Tomohiko said. ‘You’re a man of many talents, Ryo.’

  ‘Consider it an early wedding present.’

  Hiroe thanked him, carefully setting the cut paper on top of a glass case on the table.

  ‘So, Tomohiko,’ Ryo said. ‘Computers aren’t going away any time soon. I’m guessing the shop will make you some good money.’

  ‘What can I say, you run a tight ship,’ Tomohiko said.

  Ryo shook his head. ‘Not me. The fate of this store is on your shoulders.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Tomohiko laughed. ‘Way to put pressure on a guy.’

  ‘I’m not joking.’

  ‘Ryo —’

  The phone rang. Even though she was sitting farthest away, Hiroe got up and answered it by force of habit.

  ‘Hello, thanks for calling Limitless.’ A cloud came over her face. She handed the receiver to Ryo. ‘It’s Kaneshiro.’

  ‘On New Year’s Eve?’ Tomohiko said.

  Ryo held the phone up to his ear. ‘Yeah? ‘

  A moment passed before Ryo’s face hardened. He stood, phone still in hand. His other hand went for the baseball jacket he’d hung on the chair. ‘Right. The case and the packages, got it. Thanks.’ He set the phone down and turned to them. ‘I’m heading out.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ he said, picking up his scarf and wrapping it around his neck as he walked to the door.

  Tomohiko got up to follow him, but Ryo was practically running. He didn’t catch up until they were both on the street outside.

  ‘Ryo!’ he called out, stopping him. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Not what happened. What’s going to happen.’ Ryo was walking with long strides towards the car park where he kept his work van. ‘Someone caught wind of pirate Mario. Criminal Affairs is going to raid the factory and the warehouse early tomorrow morning.’

  ‘How’d they find out?’

  ‘Somebody must have snitched.’

  ‘But how could Kaneshiro possibly know that the police are coming?’

  ‘The snitching works both ways.’

  They reached the car park. Ryo jumped in the van and keyed the ignition. The engine turned over grudgingly in the cold December air.

  ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back, so go ahead and close up without me. Don’t forget to lock the door. Tell Hiroe whatever you need to.’

  ‘You sure you don’t need me to go with you?’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t want you anywhere near this.’

  With a squeal of tyres, Ryo drove the van out of the car park, quickly disappearing into the night.

  Tomohiko went back to the shop and found Hiroe waiting for him, a worried look on her face.

  ‘Where’d Ryo run off to?’

  ‘Some arcade game subcontractor found a problem in the code on a machine Ryo worked on before.’

  ‘They found a bug on New Year’s Eve?’

  ‘This is big business time for game makers. Guess they wanted to get it sorted out before shops open back up after the break.’

  Tomohiko was pretty sure that Hiroe wasn’t buying the story, but at least she didn’t press for more information. She frowned and looked out of the window.

  Tomohiko and Hiroe turned on the television and watched some of the year-end retrospectives. There was a shot of the Tigers’ manager being lifted into the air by his team – footage Tomohiko had seen at least a dozen times already. They sat barely saying a word, though Tomohiko felt sure Hiroe was as unable to focus on the TV as he was.