The Man With The Red Tattoo

by Benson, Raymond

  “No problem. Look, here we are.”

  The van drove into a car park and stopped in front of a skylift station. The signs indicated that visitors were at Bear Park. The place was closed, but Ikuo got out and told the others to follow him. The three of them ran to the building, where Ikuo unlocked the door with a set of keys he had in his pocket. Then they made their way to the skylift port area. A gondola hung in front of them, inert. Ikuo unlocked a control panel on the wall and flipped a few switches. The skylift powered up and the gondolas began to move.

  Ikuo ran to the next gondola and said, “Hurry! Get in!” The three of them jumped inside and sat just as the automatic doors closed. The gondola lifted and began to glide along the cable across a deep ravine. The vista was a vast forest of darkness. In the distance they could see the glittering surface of Lake Kuttara as a black but starry sky enveloped them.

  When the gondola reached the other side, a trip that took five minutes, the automatic door opened and they stepped out. Three of Ikuo’s Ainu friends were there to greet them. They chatted in their language for a moment and then Ikuo turned to Bond.

  “Another Mercedes followed us here. They just got in the skylift. My friends saw them on television monitors.” He pointed to small black and white screens on the wall that displayed a view of the lower station.

  “Shut it off when they’re over the ravine,” Bond said.

  “I have a better idea,” Ikuo said. “Come on.”

  They followed Ikuo and the other men into Bear Park, a theme park run by and featuring the culture of the Ainu people. It consisted primarily of a zoo filled with Hokkaido brown bears, a small museum and a quaint reproduction of a kotan, an ancient Ainu village.

  Ikuo explained as they rushed into the dark and quiet preserve, “The Ainu believe that the bear is a god from heaven, come to bring us fur and meat.” He pointed to the centre of his forehead. “The god lives in between the bear’s eyes, right here.”

  Mayumi looked over a rail into a deep pit and saw dozens of dark shapes.

  “Are those bears?” she asked a little too loudly. One of the animals growled at her ferociously, breaking the silence of the night air. This caused her to cry out, which woke up most of the other bears.

  “Mayumi!” Bond urged.

  “Sorry!” She followed him into a building, where a few other men were waiting. Ikuo greeted them and issued some instructions, opened the shades on the window, and shut off the lights. From there they had a good view of the main path through the park. It was just as they had left it—silent and still. But after a moment, two figures came walking up the path from the skylift port.

  “They look like yakuza, all right,” Bond said.

  The two men nervously crept forward, looking all around as they walked.

  “The Ainu keep the bears, raise them and take care of them,” Ikuo whispered. “We perform sacred rituals with them and we use them to attract tourists. We also train some of them. Watch.”

  The two yakuza had their pistols out, ready to fire at anything that moved.

  The roars came suddenly and were tremendously loud. Everyone in the control room jumped except for Ikuo.

  The two adult Hokkaido brown bears stood upright, six feet away from them, and began to bellow at the two men. Paralysed with fear, they both dropped their guns. Then the bears lunged forward on all fours. The men turned and fled, screaming for their lives.

  The bears followed them to the gondola port and finally could no longer be seen; only the roars could be heard in the distance.

  “Maybe they’ll get away, maybe they won’t,” Ikuo said. He switched to a different camera so that the port station was on the monitor. The men jumped into the frame and scrambled into a gondola. The bears could be seen at the edge of the screen, frustrated that they couldn’t catch their prey. As the skylift pulled away from the station, the animals meekly turned and ambled back to the village.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  G8 EVE

  NAOSHIMA ISLAND IS LOCATED IN THE INLAND SEA, SOUTH OF OSAKA AND Kobe, about halfway to Hiroshima. Most people reach the island from Okayama by taking a train to Uno and then hopping aboard a ferry that spirits visitors to the island on a twenty-minute ride. In full view is the extraordinary Seto-Ohashi Bridge, which links Honshu with Shikoku, the smallest of Japan’s four major landmasses. Benesse House, a luxury hotel on the southern tip of the island, adjoins the Naoshima Contemporary Art Museum. Works collected and exhibited by the museum are not confined to the inside of the building but are also dispersed through its grounds, creating a superb contrast between nature and man-made art. Designed by world-renowned Japanese architect Tadao Ando, Benesse House is a symbiosis of nature, architecture and art striving to devise a space where people can reflect upon humanity. A perfect spot to hold a G8 summit conference.

  James Bond arrived on the island the day after the escape from Noboribetsu. After a long and healing night’s sleep at Ikuo’s home in the Ainu village near Bear Park Bond and Mayumi had flown back to Tokyo. By that time, Japan’s National Police Agency, in a rare collaboration with the Koan-Chosa-Cho, had raided the Hokkaido Mosquito and Vector Control Centre and taken possession of the building and its contents. Everyone connected with the company was held for questioning.

  Simultaneously, the offices of CureLab Inc. in Tokyo were raided. By the end of the day, seventy-two people were under arrest. The merger with Yonai Enterprises was voided and the authorities had launched an investigation into all of Yonai’s business dealings.

  Mayumi was ensconced at the Imperial Hotel with Bond in adjoining rooms until the morning of his departure. The plan was that she would stay there until after the summit conference and then she would face up to the legal wrangling over CureLab and the McMahon estate. Before he had left the hotel, Mayumi made Bond promise that he would return in one piece and come back to see her.

  “I hate to admit it, James-san,” she had said, “but I like you. Just a little.”

  “Well, I like you, too,” Bond replied. He thought for a moment before adding, “You should try not to be so angry at the world. You’re a lovely, clever girl and you don’t need to be mixed up with deadbeats. You have a marvellous future ahead of you,” he smiled, “if you use your pretty little head.”

  “Don’t patronise me.”

  “I’m serious. Look, I’ll be away for two days, three at the most. When I come back I will help you as much as I can with all of this family business. I’m not an expert but I believe the lawyers are going to try to prove that the merger was illegal as it was done without your consent as the major shareholder and the power of attorney was a forgery. You will be meeting with lawyers over the next two days. Pay attention and consider everything they have to say.”

  Before he had left, she put her arms around him and kissed him, then abruptly turned and went back to her room.

  Bond’s flight out of Tokyo flew south-west over magnificent Mount Fuji to Okayama, where a company car met him and took him to the small port town of Uno. There, he caught the ferry to the island, where Tanaka greeted him at the dock.

  “Bondo-san, I am so happy to see you,” Tiger said, giving him a warm embrace. “I see that you have survived your adventures in Hokkaido and are no wear for worse.”

  “Tiger, you’re picking up too many Western colloquialisms,” Bond said. “It’s ‘worse for wear.’ ”

  “Whatever. Come, let’s go to the site.”

  They got into a chauffeur-driven Toyota Celsior that had been provided by Benesse House’s president for Tanaka’s exclusive use. It was well equipped, complete with a bar, telephone and a television in the back seat.

  To get from the ferry port to Benesse House, the car had to pass through Naoshima Cultural Village. Tiger pointed out items of interest along the way, including the recently built Town Hall and several traditional Japanese “homes” that were in fact works of art. Tanaka explained that the interiors of the homes contained multimedia artwork designed by Tadao Ando in colla
boration with artists from other countries. In essence, the houses themselves became the art.

  “Naoshima means ‘honesty island.’ The inhabitants of the island still live simply,” Tiger said as they drove out of the village. “Much of the island is owned by Mitsubishi Material and they run copper and gold factories that employ practically everyone.”

  The car soon entered the section of the island that had been purchased by Benesse Corporation and had been renamed Benesse Island. They went through the gates and drove up a steep hill to a magnificent modern building made of marble, concrete and steel. Benesse House was designed to incorporate the three basic geometric shapes—a square, a circle and a triangle—in an impressive, imposing structure that faced the Inland Sea. Further up the hill was the Annex, connected to the main house by monorail. The Annex contained more luxury hotel rooms surrounding a unique, continuously flowing “flat” fountain. Bond was immediately taken with the place, not only because of his appreciation for inventive architecture, but for its serene and peaceful ambience that was palpable as soon as they got out of the car.

  Tanaka accompanied Bond as he checked in and then proceeded to show him around the building. There was already a flurry of activity. Amongst the caterers, Tanaka’s staff of twenty men from the Koan-Chosa-Cho was busy making sure that the building was secure.

  They walked through the first large gallery in the museum, which was cylindrical in shape and three storeys tall. An inclined ramp circled the outer edge of the room, allowing visitors to walk up to the other floors and still view the artwork in the gallery. The main piece exhibited there was a unique multimedia sculpture designed by Bruce Nauman called “100 Live and Die.” It consisted of 100 idiomatic expressions written in neon light that combined common human states or moods (sick, well, fear, black, red) and activities (eat, touch, play, cry, love) each combined with the phrases “and live” and “and die.” Phrases—“speak and live,” “smile and die,” “think and live,” “love and die”—flashed randomly on and off, creating a collage of contemplative ideas.

  They continued into the large gallery on the basement floor that extended upwards by staircase into the ground floor. The staff were setting up tables for the conference alongside the pieces of art that adorned the walls and occupied space on the floor.

  “The opening breakfast reception will be held in here,” Tanaka explained. “It’s the largest room in the building, so there is enough space to sit and eat or walk around and mingle. The more intense meetings will take place in the conference rooms upstairs on the first floor.”

  Tanaka got everyone’s attention. “For those of you who have not met him, this is James Bond, a member of British Intelligence. He is to be my deputy in command during the conference. He is also my very good friend. Should he ask for anything, I expect you to oblige him to the best of your ability.”

  They all shouted, “Hai!” and bowed deeply to Bond.

  A young man approached them and Tanaka said, “Bondo-san, I am pleased to introduce my personal assistant, Yoshi Nakayama. If ever you need something and cannot find me, please ask Nakayama.”

  Nakayama bowed and then shook Bond’s hand.

  The men returned to work and Bond stood back to survey the gallery. It was a long rectangular room with a staircase on one side that allowed visitors to go from the basement level to the ground floor. Sculptures and artwork adorned the walls. The far end of the room was made of plate-glass windows that opened to the outside, where two marble sculptures were displayed in a concrete pit that could be viewed from the ground above or from below within the museum. The pieces in the pit were flat, smooth blobs of polished marble that gave the impression that they had been dropped from the sky. The entire display was designed by Kan Yasuda and was called “The Secret of the Sky.” Other artists represented in the gallery included Jackson Pollock, Andy Warhol, David Hockney, Frank Stella, Yukinori Yanagi and Alberto Giacometti.

  A large anatomically correct plaster heart, complete with aortas and ventricles, dominated the centre of the room. It was exquisitely painted and sat on a pedestal that was electrically powered so that the object could rotate when it was turned on. What was particularly unusual was that a large stake pierced it at an angle. The heart was about six feet in diameter. Entitled “Love Hurts,” it was created by an artist named William Kanas and was part of a new temporary exhibit of sensational, controversial works by young British artists. Bond recognised the styles of some of them, like the one with six pieces of a llama suspended in formaldehyde solution in six separate tanks.

  “Some of this stuff was brought in specially for the conference,” Tanaka explained. “All of the flowers, the plants … The hotel management told me that the decorations were delivered a week ago by a florist and interior design firm that they always use. We have potted them up and checked the earth. We also made sure that the florist and design firm checks out.”

  Bond indicated the bonsai waterfall devices that had been lined up in a crate at the side of the room. “Well, I don’t like those things,” he said. “We know about those.”

  “You are right. We are getting rid of them. We will smash them to pieces and burn the remains. We don’t want anything in here to contain mosquito eggs.”

  Tanaka issued some orders to his men, who immediately began removing the crates from the gallery.

  “What about all these pieces of art?” Bond asked. “Granted that might be too generous a description for some of it.”

  Tanaka sucked air through his teeth. “Much of it is part of a new exhibition that was brought in three days ago. That big heart, those weird things over there, they’re all part of a touring private collection. The curators will not allow us to touch them or remove them. We’ve checked them out against insurance documents and catalogue details.”

  Bond frowned. “I’m not happy about that.”

  “Nor I. But there’s nothing we can do about it. The insurance costs for the pieces are astronomical.”

  “Who owns the collection?”

  “A wealthy Japanese patron of the arts who has a long association with Benesse, who insist he’s OK.”

  Bond nodded and moved on. “What about pesticides? Do we have mosquito repellent?”

  Again, Tiger inhaled through his teeth and replied, “Management of the museum would not allow us to use it. I did not want to alarm them by going into too much detail about what we were looking for and they have forbidden the use of pesticides in here. But we have some other tricks up our sleeves.”

  Bond began to walk slowly around the room, inspecting the flowerpots and planters. They were filled with rich soil and contained all manner of exotic Japanese plants and flowers. He wasn’t familiar with some of the species, but he recognised blue, plum and whitecoloured irises that originated in the Far East, as well as a variety of red and white lotus flowers.

  Bond continued walking and took a look at the tables and settings. He examined the entrances and exits. A large object covered with a tablecloth was set to the side of the room.

  “What’s under here?” he asked.

  “Ah, Bondo-san, that is our secret weapon. I will tell you about it later.”

  “In that case, Tiger, I’m afraid that I’m going to be superfluous and will be bored to death at this conference. You have everything under control,” he said.

  Tiger laughed. “Come, let’s go see your room.”

  By late afternoon, delegates from the G8 countries began to arrive by helicopter from Osaka. Helicopters landed on the temporary wood and brick helipad that had been built on a clearing near the beach.

  James Bond was assigned to watch over the arrivals, greet the delegates and send them on their way to Benesse House in specially hired cars. Bond met each of the representatives from the eight members of G8: the United States (the President himself had decided to attend), Britain (the Prime Minister, whom Bond already knew), Japan, Canada, France, Italy, Germany and the newest member, Russia. As was always the case with G8 summit con
ferences, one additional representative from the European Community joined the meeting: in this instance the delegate was from Spain. Each representative brought along an entourage of aides and bodyguards so the hotel was at complete capacity.

  The conference was to begin in the morning with a breakfast reception and an address by Benesse Corporation’s president. The meetings were to proceed following that and would continue for two days. Bond wasn’t privy to what was being discussed at the conference and he frankly didn’t care. His only concern was to make sure that everyone remained safe and healthy. As M had put it, this was a babysitting job, and such as it was, Bond was resolved to do it right.

  That evening, he and Tanaka ate with some of the delegates in the restaurant. They were served a traditional kaiseki meal, but they both refrained from having sake since they were on duty. Bond was on the alert, so he ate very little. He was watching everyone in the room, looking for the slightest hint of something out of the ordinary. It was all going too smoothly. From what he had seen in Noboribetsu, he knew that the Ryujin-kai were clever. If they wanted to infiltrate this thing, then they would find a way to do so. But the hotel and restaurant staff had been thoroughly vetted, all vendors who had come and gone had been checked out, and the respective governments had verified the backgrounds of every man and woman on the guest list. Everything really did seem to be in order.

  Bond noticed that Tanaka was breathing heavily and had a pained look on his face.

  “Are you all right, Tiger?” he asked.

  Tanaka nodded and held a hand to his chest. “Heartburn. It will pass in a little while.”

  “When’s the last time you saw your doctor?”

  “Just before you arrived in Japan. Do not worry, Bondo-san. I know the difference between heartburn and a heart attack. What is the saying? I am a shell of my former self. But as long as the brain still functions properly, I don’t mind.”