Journey Under the Midnight Sun

by Keigo Higashino

  Ryo showed no signs of coming back.

  ‘You should probably head home,’ he said at length. The Kohaku Utagassen ‘song battle’ – an annual tradition on NHK public TV that brought all of the year’s big acts together on one stage – was just starting up.

  ‘I guess.’ Hiroe hesitated for a bit. ‘Are you going to wait for him?’

  Tomohiko nodded.

  ‘Keep warm, OK?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What about later?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll be over. Might be a little late, though.’

  ‘OK. I’ll get some soba noodles ready. It’s tradition.’ She slid into her coat and headed out of the shop.

  Alone, Tomohiko’s imagination ran wild. He half expected the police to break down the door. At some point he noticed that the programmes had gone from retrospectives to New Year’s celebrations. He called Hiroe at her apartment and apologised that he might not be able to make it after all.

  ‘Ryo not back yet?’ she asked.

  ‘No. Sounds like he’s having a bit of trouble. I’m gonna wait just a little longer. Don’t wait up for me.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’ve got some movies to watch,’ she said, the forced cheer plain in her voice.

  Tomohiko was watching a movie himself, just after three in the morning, when the door to the shop opened. Ryo stood in the doorway, a sour look on his face. Tomohiko took one look at him and gaped. His jeans were covered with mud and the sleeve of his baseball jacket was ripped. He was holding his scarf in one hand.

  ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  Ryo didn’t answer. He looked exhausted. He squatted down on the floor and hung his head.

  ‘Ryo —’

  ‘Go home,’ Ryo said, his eyes closed.

  ‘But —’

  ‘Go. Home.’

  Tomohiko shrugged and got his stuff together. All the while, Ryo sat unmoving.

  ‘OK, I’ll see you,’ Tomohiko said. Ryo didn’t answer.

  Just as Tomohiko opened the door, Ryo called his name from behind.

  ‘Yeah?’

  Tomohiko turned, but Ryo just sat there staring at the floor. Just when Tomohiko was about to say something, Ryo said, ‘Happy New Year.’

  ‘Yeah, you too. You should go home and get some sleep.’

  Ryo didn’t answer.

  Shrugging, Tomohiko opened the door and stepped out of the shop.

  The discovery of a large volume of pirated copies of Super Mario Bros. was in the morning paper on 3 January. The cartridges had been found in a car park by the house of a videogame wholesaler who had gone missing.

  Tomohiko’s best guess was that the wholesaler was Matsuura. The police didn’t know anything about the creation of the pirated software or the intended sales route, other than that yakuza were probably involved. Ryo’s name was nowhere in the article.

  Tomohiko tried calling Ryo at home, but no one picked up.

  On 5 January, Limitless opened as scheduled. Ryo still hadn’t shown up, so Tomohiko and Hiroe worked purchasing and sales themselves. It was still winter vacation from school, so they had a lot of high school customers.

  Tomohiko called Ryo’s apartment several times that day, but no one ever answered.

  ‘You think something happened to him?’ Hiroe asked.

  ‘Knowing him, it’s probably nothing to worry about,’ Tomohiro assured her. ‘I’ll drop by his place on the way home.’

  ‘Yeah, good idea,’ Hiroe agreed, her eyes straying to Ryo’s usual seat. His scarf was hanging from the back of the chair – the one he’d been wearing on New Year’s Eve.

  A tiny frame Hiroe had brought in hung on the wall just above the chair. Inside the frame she’d placed the intricate paper cut-out Ryo had made of the boy and girl holding hands.

  A sudden thought struck Tomohiko and he opened the drawer to Ryo’s desk. The box with the scissors was gone. For the first time it occurred to Tomohiko that he might not see Ryo again.

  That day after work, Tomohiko stopped by Ryo’s apartment. The shades were drawn and all the lights were off. He knocked on the door and rang the bell half a dozen times but there was no hint of anyone inside.

  The next day, and the day after that, Ryo didn’t come in to work. Eventually, his phone was disconnected. Tomohiko paid a visit to his apartment and found several men he’d never seen before loading his furniture and appliances into a truck.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked one of the men who looked like he might be in charge.

  ‘Cleaning out this apartment. Got a request from the owner.’

  ‘And who are you?’

  ‘Handyman service,’ the man said, giving Tomohiko a suspicious look.

  ‘Did Ryo move?’

  The man lifted an eyebrow. ‘Ryo?’

  ‘The guy who lived here.’

  ‘Must have, if he’s cleaning out the place.’

  ‘You know where he’s moved to?’

  ‘We haven’t heard anything about that.’

  Tomohiko frowned. ‘Aren’t you taking the stuff somewhere?’

  ‘Actually, we were told to get rid of it all.’

  ‘Get rid of it? Everything?’

  ‘Everything.’ The man turned to shout some instructions to the rest of the crew. ‘Sorry, but we’re a little busy here.’

  When Hiroe heard the news, the bewilderment showed on her face. ‘Why didn’t he say anything?’

  Tomohiko shook his head. ‘I’m sure Ryo’s got a plan – he always does. We’re just going to have to stick it out in the meantime and see what we can do by ourselves.’

  ‘You think he’ll call?’

  ‘Of course he will. We just need to hang on till he does.’

  Hiroe nodded, though she didn’t look convinced.

  Five days after they reopened, a man dropped by the shop in the afternoon. He looked around fifty, wearing an old herringbone jacket. He was tall for his age, with broad shoulders. There was a keenness to his eyes and a softness to his smile that Tomohiko immediately liked, even as he realised the man had not come shopping for a computer.

  ‘You run this place?’ the man asked looking over at him.

  ‘Yes,’ Tomohiko told him.

  The man nodded. ‘You’re awfully young. Same age as Ryo, are you?’

  Tomohiko’s eyes widened a little.

  ‘I’ve got a few questions, if you have a moment.’

  ‘Sorry, were you looking for something?’

  The man shook his head. ‘I’m not a customer.’ He pulled a police badge out of his jacket.

  Tomohiko remembered when the detectives visited him back in high school. The man standing in front of him gave off the exact same aura they had. Tomohiko was glad he’d come while Hiroe was out.

  ‘You here about Ryo?’

  ‘OK if I sit down?’ the man said, indicating the folding chair directly in front of Tomohiko.

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘Thanks.’ The man sat, leaning back in the chair. He took a look around the shop. ‘Quite the selection of stuff you have here. So kids actually buy these things?’

  ‘We have a lot of adult customers as well, but they range as young as middle school.’

  The man shook his head. ‘The world never stops changing. I can’t keep up.’

  ‘Sorry, what did you want to ask me about?’ Tomohiko asked, a little anxious.

  The detective smiled, enjoying Tomohiko’s discomfort. ‘Your manager, Ryo Kirihara. You know where he is?’

  ‘Did you need him for something?’

  ‘I had some questions for him,’ the detective said, smiling. ‘He moved out of the apartment he’d been renting since last year; the place is stripped bare. Which brings me here, to you.’

  Tomohiko had already decided he wouldn’t gain much by misleading the guy. ‘Actually, we’ve been wondering where he is, too. It’s tough having your manager suddenly disappear on you.’

  ‘When’d you last see him?’

  ‘New Year�
��s Eve. He closed up shop with us.’

  ‘You talk to him since? A phone call, maybe?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘So he just up and vanished, without a word to his friends. Seems strange to me.’

  ‘Strange isn’t the half of it. We’re kind of in a tight spot here.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ the detective said, rubbing his chin. ‘You notice anything different about Ryo the last time you saw him?’

  ‘Nothing particular,’ Tomohiko said with a shrug, careful to keep his tone as casual as before. ‘He seemed the same as always.’

  The detective put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph. ‘Ever seen this man?’

  It was a shot of Matsuura from the waist up.

  Tomohiko only had a second to decide how he was going to respond. The fewer lies the better.

  ‘That’s Matsuura. Didn’t he used to work for Ryo’s family?’

  ‘He ever been by here?’

  ‘A few times, yeah.’

  ‘What about?’

  Tomohiko shrugged. ‘The only time I talked to him was the first time he came. He said he looked up Ryo for old times’ sake.’

  The detective gave Tomohiko a penetrating stare. Tomohiko met it without blinking.

  ‘Did you see any change in Ryo the day Matsuura showed up? Anything at all that got your attention?’

  ‘Not really, no. He seemed happy to see him. They talked like it’d been a while.’

  ‘A while? That right?’ The detective’s eyes sparkled.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You don’t remember exactly what they were talking about, do you? Anything about the old days?’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything specific. Most of the time I had customers to deal with.’

  Instinct told him it was better not to mention overhearing them talking about Ryo’s father.

  Just then, the door opened and a boy came in. ‘Hi,’ Tomohiko called out, smiling.

  The detective stood. ‘Thanks. I’ll be back.’

  ‘Has something happened to Ryo?’ Tomohiko asked as he was standing.

  The detective hesitated a moment before saying, ‘I don’t know what he’s done, not yet. But he’s got himself involved in something.’

  ‘Something?’

  The detective ignored him. He was looking up at the paper cut-out in the frame on the wall. ‘Ryo make that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The kid hasn’t lost his touch. A boy and a girl holding hands? Cute.’

  It occurred to Tomohiko that whatever the detective was here about, it went much deeper and much older than pirate Mario.

  ‘Sorry to take your time,’ the detective said, walking towards the door.

  ‘Excuse me, sir?’ Tomohiko said to his back. ‘Might I ask your name?’

  He stopped and looked around. ‘Sasagaki,’ he said, then with a wave of his hand he walked out of the door.

  Tomohiko pressed his fingers to his forehead. Hadn’t Matsuura mentioned a Sasagaki? Could he have been the detective who’d pestered them about their alibis all those years ago?

  Tomohiko sighed and looked up at the paper cut-out. That and the scarf were the only things Ryo had left behind.

  NINE

  Monday mornings were when most managers in Tozai Automotive’s Tokyo headquarters held their weekly meetings. The division chiefs would relate any news from the upper management meeting the week before and if any team leaders had things to report, this was the time for that, too.

  This Monday in mid-April, Nagasaka, the chief of the patent licensing division, was talking about the Great Seto Bridge that had just been completed and opened to traffic the previous week down in the Inland Sea. Together with the Seikan Tunnel which had opened a month ago, connecting the main island of Japan to Hokkaido in the north, Japan was getting smaller, he said, and more people would be driving cars, which meant increased demand for parts and increased competition to supply those parts. The ‘Japan getting smaller’ bit was doubtless a phrase he had picked up in the management meeting.

  When the meeting was over, everyone went back to their seats and started work. Some were manning the phones, others pulling out documents, and others hurrying out of the door. An average Monday morning.

  Makoto Takamiya started his day just like any other. He began by cleaning up the patent applications he’d left from Friday. In order to give himself something to warm up with, he liked putting off less pressing work until the next week. Yet before he could even finish that much, the E team was ordered to assemble. The call came from Narita, who had just been promoted at the end of the previous year.

  The E team was the group responsible for everything electronic: electrical systems, electrodes, and computers. There were five of them working under Narita.

  They gathered around the boss’s desk.

  ‘This one’s important,’ Narita said, his expression a little hard. ‘It has to do with our manufacturing expert system. You all know what that is?’

  Everyone nodded except Yamano, a new recruit, who said, a little sheepishly, ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Do you know what an expert system is?’ Narita asked.

  ‘I’ve heard the term, but that’s about it.’

  ‘How about AI?’

  ‘Artificial intelligence, sure,’ Yamano said, though he didn’t sound all that confident.

  The world of computing had been making rapid advances, in particular in the field attempting to make computers function more like human brains. For example, when two people passed on the street, they didn’t calculate the distance between them in order to avoid a collision. Rather, they used experience and intuition to adjust their speed and bearing. Adding that kind of flexible thinking and decision-making to computers was the goal of AI.

  ‘Expert systems are one application of AI – in effect an attempt to replace experts in certain fields,’ Narita explained. ‘Now, a human expert in a particular field isn’t just a walking bag of facts; they have the know-how to use those facts. If you can build that know-how into a system along with all the relevant data, and teach someone how to use it, then even a novice can make decisions like a pro – that’s what an expert system lets businesses do. They’re already used in fields like medicine and financial analysis.’

  Narita looked at Yamano to make sure he was following.

  Yamano nodded, though it was clear he was still a little unsure.