The Kingdom

by Fuminori Nakamura

  It seemed like the dark part where the moon was not quite full would suck something up from the earth. The night was long. How should I spend it by myself?

  14.

  Two more days.

  I walked right past the front desk and waited for the elevator. Hotel La Perte was an old, dirty love hotel. When the light for the sixth floor lit up, I felt the presence of the man I would face. The people at the front desk probably thought I was a prostitute, walking into a hotel like this. I remembered that I was something of the sort, and laughed a little.

  My heart had been racing for a long time. I couldn’t shake this bad feeling, but I had no choice but to do my job. The elevator door opened before me—a square, mechanical space, indifferent to me. It had nothing to do with the situation I was about to find myself in. It just carried me up to my fate.

  I got off the elevator, and walked past several silent doors. I knocked on the door to room 606, but there was no response. I took a breath, opened the door, and there was Yata. What was happening? I tried to run, but someone pushed me down from behind. It was the man who had checked the gun and walked away with it when I gave it back. Did this mean they found out what I did? But I’d told them from the start, I couldn’t be responsible for the quality of that information. It was hard to breathe. Yata sat on the sofa and stared at me emotionlessly.

  It was a cheap room. The walls were pink and there was an enormous bed. The lights were also pink, and they hurt my eyes. My body was shaking, but somehow my mind remained calm. I felt a second me ignoring the flustered, surprised one. She was focused on trying to think of a way to escape. The colors I saw were getting too bright. The round glow of the bed light stood out from its surroundings, and the hands of the clock were beautiful and sharp enough to take my breath away. I could feel the slight movement of the air on my cheeks and eyelids. Yata wearily lit a cigarette. He was smoking the same thin menthols that girls smoke. The man behind me pushed me again. I was disgusted by the ease with which he could hold me down.

  “What is this?” I asked. My voice didn’t falter. “Tell me. I won’t understand what’s going on if you don’t talk.”

  “That information you gave us was real,” Yata said quietly.

  He looked tired, but he was calm as always. He was a few meters away, and our eyes were locked.

  “The fact that it wasn’t perfect also lent to its credibility. But I’m not dumb enough to buy it. Some companies are involved with a governmental organization’s secret multi-trillion yen project, and there are multinational corporations working illegally behind the scenes, too . . . That man was trying to use this information to pull off something else. Naturally, we had to check the accuracy of this information. I had one of my subordinates deal with it. He met with several people who handle information in secret, paid several people, scrutinized every detail. It was real. There’s no mistake. But he’s smart. When we went to verify—which was an unavoidable step—there was a trap.”

  I checked the position of the man behind me. Even if I surprised him, it didn’t seem like I could run away.

  “We’d provided some information in return for the illegal work, and that information was picked up by Kizaki. It’s hard to believe how far this man’s influence extends. If the information he picked up were to be exposed, we’d be in a pretty bad position.”

  Yata leaned back slowly on the sofa.

  “It was clear from that skillfully planted trap that this information had been passed to us intentionally. There are three possible scenarios. The first is that, as you said, you really stole this information from him. But that’s hard to believe. That would mean he let you steal it on purpose. There are too many unpredictable elements involved for that to be likely. You could have gotten scared and come back without anything. The second scenario is that you aren’t on either side, and you tricked us both. And you’re taking that slippery road to try and escape. It’s a dangerous choice, but if you’re thinking about self-preservation, it does seem the most effective.” My heart made an awful noise.

  “Then, the third possible scenario is that you betrayed me, and you’re on his side now. The main reason I think this may be true is that you went out of your way to tell me to check that information. A few days ago, when you met Hasegawa at that bar, the man he introduced you to, who said his name was Kondo, is certainly this man. Based on that, the third scenario seems the most likely. You asked me for false information to ease my nerves. You betrayed me, and are working with him now.”

  While Yata’s guess was a little bit off, he was basically right. I tried to think. The man behind me was in the way, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “Which is it? The second or the third? I’m asking you.”

  I felt that if I said it was the second, I’d be killed right there. Yata wouldn’t just let me run away, and knowing as much as I did, I doubt Yata would let me live any longer. And I was just one woman with no friends, no one to save me. Someone would find my corpse somewhere, and that would be the end of it. But Yata already thought I had betrayed him. Several misunderstandings led him to that conclusion on his own. That might actually be better for me as well. It would make him angry, but to have me, one of Kizaki’s subordinates, under his control would be valuable to him. To protect my life, I need to raise the value of my existence. And I need to tell a few lies. I wondered if it would work.

  “You can’t answer? Then you’ll die.”

  “Well, in that case, it’s the third.”

  I sat on the ground, staring at the floor. Yata couldn’t see, but I was clenching my jaw. I hoped my posture would make him feel I was being defiant even though I had been caught.

  “You betrayed me for him. You’re an idiot. But it’s fine. Tell me everything you know about him.”

  “If I refuse?”

  “You die.”

  “Hey, is that really you, Yata? Is something wrong?” I spoke quietly, but with anger in my voice.

  “What?”

  “You’re such an idiot. I’m so tired of this.” I made my voice a bit hoarse. “Everything is part of his plan. His goal is to make you lose your position, to erase you from this world. You must know that much. First, he had you verify that information. Then, he got the information he needed to trap you. And then what happens? You kill me because you’re angry I gave you that information? He planned this all out. Did you check around you when you came into this hotel? What about all of your subordinates? We’ve been recorded this whole time. He wants to make you into a murderer. Do you think you have complete control of all the police and detectives? You must know that even prosecutors belong to different factions and have their own interests. He’s already working with some of them. He even made me write a will. It says that I’m being used by you, and I think you’ll kill me eventually. Everything’s going just as he planned. You didn’t know? The moment you kill me, he’ll have evidence, concrete proof from observing you that you committed murder. When he wants to knock people down, he uses the power of the legal system. Hasn’t this kind of thing been going on for ages?”

  As I spoke I began to think that what I was saying might actually be true. I hadn’t written a will, but Kizaki had said he would write one, that he’d rewrite my life. It was probably already planned out carefully. The story of the prostitute working behind the scenes of a certain incident. That’s what he had said. Though it hadn’t worked out because I hadn’t gone to the orphanage, he probably already had another plan. He’d already figured it out. He’d make me take responsibility for a bunch of crimes, and die here like this. My back and neck were freezing, but I was sweating nonetheless.

  “Do you understand? My life itself is a trap. There’s only one thing you can do. Continue to pretend to be fooled by me, and fool him instead. That’s your only option. Why can’t you understand that?”

  Yata stared into my eyes.

  “Well then, why do
you keep letting yourself be used instead of running away? Even though you know you’ll be killed?”

  “I thought you knew everything already. I didn’t think you’d be fooled by him. I thought you were just pretending to be tricked. I didn’t think you’d try to kill me like this.”

  “But the limit will come one day. What do you plan to do then?”

  “I planned to hang around until one of you vanished. Then I’d stick with the winning side. I’m talented. I thought you’d regret killing me. Running away is my very last option. I wouldn’t do something that obvious.”

  The room went quiet. For some reason I felt like I could see the threads of the fabric on the sofa Yata was sitting on.

  “I see. It makes sense. But something bothers me,” Yata said quietly.

  “I give up. Kill me then. Kill me in this hotel that they’re watching. It’ll be the end of both of us. If you’re going to kill me, just do it. I’m tired of this. It’s so stupid.”

  “But I can’t let you go.”

  “So what will you do? You’re still not sure?”

  At that moment, a phone rang. I couldn’t breathe. If this was Kizaki calling me, I might be in a bad position. But it was Yata’s phone. When he answered the phone, his expression changed. He looked like he had when I’d showed him the email assignment someone else had sent me from his account.

  “Give him some space, but watch him for a bit.”

  Yata walked past me, and left the room. The man was left alone with me. He kept his gun pointed at me, but turned on the TV as if he had something on his mind. The news was on. The prime minister of Japan had been attacked by terrorists on a trip to a meeting in an oil-producing country in Africa. He’d died, along with his secretary and bodyguards. Moments later, several diplomats from the implicated ministry had killed themselves. Next there was a report that the corpse of a missing trading company employee had been found, and another that a microbus carrying government agency employees had gotten into an accident. Everyone besides the driver had died. The man behind me said something quietly. When I tried to get up, he pointed the gun at me again. I looked at him straight. He was large.

  “Hey, let me go.”

  “Don’t move. And don’t talk.”

  He kept the gun pointed at me. He was wearing a plain, inconspicuous suit. The curtains shook painfully in the breeze of the air-conditioning.

  “There’s no point. You can’t shoot me. Didn’t you hear what I just said? If you kill me, Yata won’t let that slide. So . . .”

  I stood up and sat on the bed.

  “Look. No matter what I do, you can’t shoot me.”

  He glared at me. I widened my eyes, willing my cheeks to flush.

  “You’re alone in a room with a woman, but you’re not going to do anything?”

  “What?”

  “We’ve got time to kill. I imagined you’d at least try to touch me, all full of desire, and I’d say, ‘No,’ or ‘Don’t.’”

  I smiled. I was sure he couldn’t shoot me, but there was always the chance my plan could backfire. This man must have been scared of getting burned, too. If I could use that fear, I could get him to put his gun down at least once.

  “I won’t fall for that.”

  “Fall for what? Ha ha ha. Sounds like you watch too much TV,” I said. “You should just kiss me. Touch me as much as you want. No one will ever find out.”

  “Be quiet.”

  “You’re so boring. Even when I tease you, you still make that same face. You know, I’m probably better than any of the women you’ve ever had before.”

  “I won’t be provoked.”

  “Well then, there’s no choice.”

  I ripped open the front of my blouse. The buttons went flying and landed around my feet.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m tearing my clothes. I’m going to say you attacked me.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Yata will be really pissed. You must know that I’m one of his favorites these days. And you couldn’t even manage to keep a woman under control. That’s a failure in a subordinate. He’ll definitely get rid of you.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I won’t stop. Why should I care what happens to a man who won’t even touch me? I’ll take you down with me.”

  I popped more buttons, and ripped open the hook on my skirt. He clicked his tongue, put the gun down on the sofa, and reached out to try to stop me. As soon as he was almost on top of me, I took the stun gun from my belt and pressed it to his stomach. White cracks of light shot out and a sharp boom ripped through the air. He collapsed, but it wasn’t enough to make me feel safe, so I hit him with the stun gun again. He gasped and let out a shriek.

  “It would have been nice if you went unconscious like on TV, too.”

  I held down his chin, turned my ring to face the fake stone down, released the lid and dumped the powder in his mouth.

  “It hurts too much to swallow? You do look like you’re in pain. But it’s fine. I’ll help you.”

  I took a beer out of the fridge, forced open his mouth and poured it in. My body started to get hot. The man looked pained, and like he was going to spit up the beer. I poured in more.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not poison.”

  15.

  One day left.

  I was lying in bed, couldn’t even make myself turn on the lights.

  The room was quiet and simple, and I could hear a motor crying in the distance. I curled up like a baby. I took a long breath and exhaled. It seemed strange that I was still alive.

  It was dark, but on the table in front of me I could see the black gun. I stole it from that man last night. If there had been any other lackeys around, I would have shot them. But Yata’s jobs for me were always top-secret, and I hadn’t expected him to have too many other men around. Nevertheless, I needed to be careful just in case. I wasn’t sure if I could use the gun properly, but I’d have shot even Yata if I had to.

  After I’d dealt with that first guy, I’d cracked opened the door and looked down the hall. I took the fire escape instead of the elevator. The air was very cold, and I stopped walking whenever I heard even a small sound. I kept looking over my shoulder. But there was no sign of any more of his men. I changed taxis. I kept changing taxis until I made it to this business hotel in Yokohama.

  For some reason I stared at the red and green lights on the heater. I was originally planning to get that passport from Kimura tonight, then go to Narita first thing in the morning. But I didn’t have time. I had to leave Japan today, as soon as I got it. I would be using another name, so even if they could somehow see who was going to board what plane, they’d have no way to find me. Once I was abroad, they wouldn’t be able to follow me. I didn’t think they’d go through the trouble of following me overseas.

  My phone rang. I couldn’t breathe. But it was Kimura, so I answered immediately. I never thought I’d have to rely on him like this. But I had no time, so I had no other choice.

  “It’s ready. Pick it up at eight.”

  “What should I do?”

  “About that . . . I’m being watched.”

  My heart made an awful noise.

  “By who?”

  “The police.”

  I searched for my cigarettes to calm myself down.

  “Don’t worry. I was just introducing someone to a drug dealer, and I got into some trouble. But I’m being watched, so I can’t go anywhere.”

  I sighed, a sigh that came from uncomfortably deep in my chest.

  “So what should I do?”

  “Right. So you’ll have to get it yourself. Come to the underground parking lot at the Greer Hotel in Ikebukuro at eight. The guy who made it can’t show his face either. There will be a black sedan with a Hiroshima license plate. The doors will be unlocked. It’ll be in the
glove compartment. But don’t do anything strange. He’ll be nearby.”

  “And if it’s not there?”

  “That won’t happen. Trust matters a lot in this business, strange as that sounds.”

  I hung up. Ikebukuro. I didn’t want to go. What would I do if the police were there to catch Kimura? That would just be another problem for me. I felt surrounded. Outside my window, the swarm of cruel buildings was semi-hidden by the fog. If I had to worry about the police, it was probably better not to take the gun.

  I dyed my hair black, put on glasses, and took with me a big medical mask, the kind people wear out in public when they’re scared of catching or spreading the flu. I took the bullets out of the gun, wiped off my fingerprints, and put the gun and bullets in a paper bag. I left the hotel, went into a nearby department store, and in the changing room, changed into casual, nondescript clothes—jeans, a black sweater, and a gray coat. Just to be safe, I bought a new bag and shoes, too. But what should I do with the clothes I’d taken off? I didn’t have anyone to send them to. I didn’t want to throw them away. All of a sudden, I was sad. My Balenciaga coat and blouse. My Chloé skirt. And my Coach bag and high heels. I liked them. What was I thinking at a time like this?

  I looked at the employee who helped me to the changing room. She was too young and beautiful to work at a plain shop like this. She was about the same height as me. Her eyes were red and looked moist. Maybe she was tired.

  “Um, these clothes . . .”

  “Yes. If you’re going to carry them . . .”

  “Oh, no. It’s just, if you would like them . . .”

  She looked at me strangely.

  “It’s just, I don’t need these anymore. I’m going for a more relaxed look now. I’m leaving the country, and I like to give away clothes anyway. They’d look good on you. Take them. Please.”

  She was confused. Of course she was confused. This was a strange request. But I grew obstinate.

  “Please. I’m going to get rid of them anyway, so I’d rather have someone like you take them. Please.”