by Kotaro Isaka
"But that whole hero thing was just something the media cooked up to begin with," Aoyagi protested.
"No, they're right—it makes it more exciting if the least likely person turns out to be guilty." They went back to eating their ramen, drinking the soup to the bottom and setting the cu|)s on the table at almost the same time. "So you're in a fix," .Miura said. "What are you going to do?"
"I have abs(.)lutely no idea," said Aoyagi. "1 was trying to figure that out back there in the car." He liad decided he'd done everything he could, done his best but lost to a stronger oj)j)onent. He told himselt he was living to fight aiKJther day, but at that point he had been resigned to being arrested.
.Miura took otf his glasses and wiped them with his haiulkerchief. "Being on the lam is hard work," he said. "T hey're looking everywhere lor you, and they've sealed oh just about every way out. But it it were me . . ."
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''If it were you? . .
"I'd say your best bet was to hole up somewhere safe in town and wait. T hey'd have to go door to door, search every last house in Sendai to find you. But the trick is to hide someplace totally random." He had put his glasses hack on. "Can you think of a place you've had absolutely no connection with before?"
Aoyagi knew the answer to this without thinking about it. "No," he said.
"Well, once the police name you as the suspect, just about anybody who spots you will turn you in. I suppose they'll be going public with your name any time now."
"Why do you say that?"
"You've shown them you can keep a step ahead of them, so they've figured out you won't go quietly." As he said this, Miura picked up the remote and switched on the TV. "They might have already made the announcement."
Aoyagi's eyes drifted to the screen as it came on in the orange half-light of the room. The footage of the parade and the explosion was still playing, though by now the commentators looked weary and the format had gone stale.
"You're causing quite a stir," said Miura. "I'm impressed."
"Don't be. I didn't do it."
"But congratulations, it looks like they haven't fingered you yet," he concluded after checking several channels. "But Tm sure they will by morning. It's just a matter of time now, and then you'll have to keep off the streets. If you so much as stick your nose out the door, someone will recognize you."
"What if I get a room in the hotel next door?"
"No good," said Miura. "You can't go in a place like that alone without attracting attention. You need someone to check in with you. Have you got a girl in town? One you can trust?" Though he looked like a kid who would die of fright in the presence of a real woman, he sounded like an old hand offering young Aoyagi advice. "And the police aren't stupid, you know. They'll start searching the love hotels, anyplace you can get a cheap room. So that rules out a capsule hotel, too. They'll show your picture around every flop-house in the city."
"How about an Internet cafe? I was in one earlier tonight."
"Same problem. Once they go public with the charge."
"Then what if I get in touch with a TV station or a newspaper and tell
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them I'm innocent, that I'm being framed. They'd want the story even if they didn't believe me. At least I might get them to listen to me, to look into it."
"It might work. The press doesn't really care about true or false, good or bad; they just want interesting. If they decide you're news, they'll be all over you. Though that could be dangerous as well." Miura seemed calmer now. "But what would you tell them? 'Tm being framed for the assassination of the prime minister. The cops are after me. But I'm innocent. Could you put that on the air, please?' What station is going to offer you airtime and shield you from the police?"
"I don't know," said Aoyagi. But it was the only plan he could think of. Then he suddenly remembered that something similar had happened not long ago. "But if they did, it wouldn't be the first time," he said, smiling at Miura.
"Yeah," Miura said, nodding slightly. "That guy who contacted a TV station saying he was me. He had their mouths watering, thinking they had a live exclusive with a serial killer."
"But then somebody got cold feet and spilled the beans to the police."
"They caught him, and the TV people got their hand slapped good and hard."
"All thanks to you," said Aoyagi.
"It had nothing to do with me. I can't help it if some Cutter wannabe goes and pimps himself to the press." "Cutter wannabe" sounded like a boast, but Miura's expression was all business. "And that just means they'll be even less willing to keep you undercover. If you call them 1 susj^ect you'll hear a lot of hemming and hawing."
"Even for something this big?"
"T hat's why they won't have the balls to cross the police." Aoyagi wanted to disagree. Weren't TV stations known for bending the rules? But Miura continued as though reading his thoughts. "T hey don't ever really do anything reckless; they've got lawyers checking everything beforehaiul. in this country, they know there's always someone watching them, waiting to slap them down it they get out ol line, (^all them 11 you want to, just he aware that there's a good chance you'll find the police waiting lor you il you show u|) at a T V station. You might even end up getting shot in all the excitement, l ive and in color!"
"You think they're |)lanning to shoot me?"
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"You think they aren't? It would he pretty convenient to have you out of the way." Aoyagi felt like laughing, but somehow nothing came out. He reached for his ramen cup again, but when he realized it was empty he put it back on the table. His head felt heavy. "You got any ideas?" Miura was saying. "A plan?"
Aoyagi heard him and knew he was supposed to say something, but he was suddenly terribly weary. "Ideas," he repeated. Like a man with tired arms working a pulley, he tried to drag the thought from his head. He had an idea. He knew he did. He could picture himself at the Internet cafe, entering information on the screen. "Just one," he muttered.
He explained his plan to Miura as best he could, though his tongue was thick in his mouth.
"Not bad!" Miura said when he'd finished. "Using your connections. A package pickup. Not bad at all."
"But zero chance of success," Aoyagi mumbled, feeling defeated.
"No, not zero. Will he believe you?"
"Who knows? But the only thing I can do now is trust my friends."
"Hey!" Miura spluttered. "The fall guy for the greatest setup in history and he's still pinning his hopes on people! You're a dreamer, no doubt about it. But fine, if that's what you've got planned, you can stay here until morning. The main thing now is to get some sleep."
"I can't stay here," Aoyagi said, looking around the room. The ceiling felt lower than before, the walls so flimsy they might collapse at the slightest touch. But even in this seedy place, he felt sleep coming on.
"You're right," said Miura. "You can't stay long. That's not your answer. Let's imagine you did stay here. What would you do? Spend the time eating? Eating and eating. You could get fat, turn that handsome face of yours to blubber so you didn't look the same anymore, and then you could go outside. You just might manage it in six months. But we can't have that, can we? You can sleep here tonight, then go."
Aoyagi's eyes popped open again, though he hadn't realized they were closed. He had never felt sleep come on this suddenly. He noticed a cell phone lying on the table in front of him, and looked up at Miura.
"You can have it," he said.
"Where did it come from?"
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"'They haven't found the body yet, so no one's canceled the service. I tried it earlier." Aoyagi stared at him. "You're going to need one. The police can't connect you with this number, so it's safe to use it for the time being."
Aoyagi picked up the phone. He wanted to turn it on, but his eyes closed and his mind went blank. Why was he so sleepy?
"Td better come clean," Miura said.
"What about?"
"1
put something in the ramen. 1 knew you needed a good night's sleep. Tm thoughtful that way. .And you've still got some time to kill before the pickup."
"The ramen?" Aoyagi managed to whisper, but his head was full of stones.
"Well, then," he heard Miura say. "If 1 think of anything useful. I'll let you
know."
-Aoyagi wanted to call out to him, to tell him to wait, but the words died in his throat and a moment later everything went black.
Haruko Higiichi
She was waiting for her when Haruko got to the hospital. She had answered Kazu's phone and identified herself as "Kazuo's girlfriend," and now she stood near the reception desk holding hands with a little boy. Her son, Ta-tsumi, was four years old, the same age as Nanami, and her own name was Ami Tsuruta. Haruko wondered whether Kazu could be the little boy's father, but decided he probably wasn't. T he boy told her "Mr. Ono" was pretty sick, when they introduced themselves.
"Hid ycm have trouble getting here?" Ami asked. "T he traffic must be bad."
"We took a cab, but it was so slow we got out and walked the rest of the way."
Nanami, who had been standing j)atiently holding her hand, spoke up at last. ".M(jmmy, who's Mr. Ono?"
".M(jmmy's friend," Haruko said. At this, latsumi, not to be outdone, announced in a loud voice that Mr. Ono was his mommy's boylrieiul. Ami smiled a bit shee|)ishly. Haruko guessed she was in her mid-twenties—a good deal younger than she was at any rate.
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"He hasn't regained consciousness yet," Ami said as they were riding up in the elevator.
"But he was awake when you found him?" Haruko said, thinking back to wliat site had told her on the phone.
"Just for a moment. He mumbled something about Mr. Aoyagi."
Apparently she had arrived at Kazu's apartment the night before without any advance notice. "I wasn't worried exactly. But he'd been acting a little weird." She had been staying at her parents' house in town for a few days; after her son went to sleep, she had called Kazu. He sounded so odd on the phone that she was sure something was wrong, and she decided to go and check on him.
"To be honest, I thought he was cheating on me," she said, obviously a bit embarrassed. "I know something about that from my ex-husband. Anyway, I never thought Td find him like that, lying on the floor barely able to move." She was on the verge of tears. Tatsumi squeezed her hand.
A bell sounded and the elevator door slid open at the fifth floor. Ami and Tatsumi led the way down the corridor.
"What did he say before he lost consciousness?" Haruko asked.
"It was mostly just muttering and groaning, but I did make out the words 'police' and 'beat me.' Then he said that Aoyagi had saved him. He used to talk about his college friends, so I knew the name. But then this morning, on the news..." Ami had seemed calm when they met, but as she described the events of the past few hours she grew agitated.
"I saw it, too," said Haruko. "I can't believe they're saying Aoyagi did it."
"He doesn't seem like that kind of person. Not if he helped that actress . . . and Kazu."
"The Aoyagi I knew could never have done something like that. Of course, he didn't seem like the hero type either," she added.
"Kazu talked a lot about his famous friend from college."
"He told me, too," Tatsumi said, looking very serious.
"Have you been out of touch with him since graduating?" Ami asked. From her tone, it seemed she didn't know that Aoyagi and Haruko had been involved.
"1 haven't seen him for some time," Haruko told her. "But how did Kazu get drawn into this?"
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"I don't know," said Ami. "And thev said their friend Morita was killed."
"What?" Haruko's body went rigid as she tried to take this in.
"Did vou know him, too?"
"We were friends in college. ..."
"They mentioned him on the news," Ami said. "But I suppose it could have been another Morita."
Haruko started to answer but then stopped. Noticing that her mother was strangely quiet, Nanami tugged at her sleeve. Haruko shook her head slowly. "No," she said. "I don't think so." Morita dead? Normally she would not have believed it, but given what had happened, anything seemed possible now.
"They said he was in a car near the parade. There was a second bomb and he was killed."
Haruko was stunned, and for a moment she felt light-headed. "Are they saying Aoyagi did that, too?"
"They made it seem that way."
"But why would he? . . . Morita?" It all seemed unreal to her. Ami watched her with a concerned look.
Aoyagi kill Morita? She ran this idea through her head repeatedly. T hat was what they were saying. But what could it mean?
T hey reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a room. "Ono" was written on a card on the door. " They didn't let me in until just a little while ago," Ami said, opening the door.
Kazu lay on his back, eyes closed. Haruko felt a rush of nostalgia at the sight of him, but the bandages brought her up short.
"What haj^pened to him?" Nanami asked, looking u|) at her. "What's he doing?"
"He's sleeping. He got hurt." It was all Haruko could do to get the words ()u. As she stared at Kazu, the time since their first meeting seemed to shrink t(j nothing, and she could hear him telling her he'd thought the ITiends of 1 ast food would all be horribly fat horn eating hamburgers all day. "I never exjiected someone thin and healthy like you," he'tl said. "I lave you got a tapeworm?" It had been one ot the strangest greetings she had ever heard, though he'd meant well. Then Aoyagi had s|)oken up. "II it kec'ps you Irom giiining weight, 1 could do with one inysell." He had smiled at (he new aildilion
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to the Friends. "We expect our members to stay in shape, look out for their health," she remembered him saying.
But Kazu was covered with tubes and patches and bandages. Who was looking out for his health now?
Had the world gone crazy? Kazu here—Morita dead. It would have seemed ridiculous, if there weren't the evidence in front of her.
"When will he wake up?" Tatsumi asked.
"I'm not sure," Ami told him.
"Have they contacted his parents?" Haruko asked, looking around the room for signs of other visitors. "1 think they live in Niigata." She felt as though someone had been testing her memories of college all morning.
"1 called them last night. I'm sure they're on their way, but it's not easy getting into Sendai right now." Haruko nodded. Less than a day had gone by since the assassination and the roadblocks were still in place.
Their conversation was interrupted. "Are you friends of Mr. Ono?" a voice suddenly said behind them. They turned to find an unfamiliar figure standing in the door. He had broad shoulders and a square face. His suit was badly wrinkled, and he didn't look friendly. "My name is Mamoru Kondo, from the General Intelligence Division in the Security Bureau. I'm investigating the incident," he told them.
Kondo sat across from Haruko and Ami in a coffee shop at the other end of the hospital. "The prime minister was killed by Masaharu Aoyagi, using a remote-controlled helicopter," he said.
"Do you have some kind of proof?" Ami asked, leaning forward over the table.
"Haven't you been watching TV? Aoyagi was caught on tape buying the helicopter. And several witnesses have seen him on the run since the assassination. The owner of a liquor store was injured during his escape, and shots were fired at a restaurant where he was spotted. He was even taken into custody briefly last night—though that's not public information at this point."
Haruko listened while keeping one eye on Nanami next to her in a booster chair. Kondo told them that Aoyagi had been apprehended outside Kazu's apartment, but he had managed to escape while he was being taken by car to a station.
"Why did he come to Kazu's apartment last night?" Ami asked, but Haruko interrupted her.
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"Escaped? How?" she said. Rondo's face was as im
passive as a Noh mask.
"Actually, Mr. CDno contacted us to say that Aoyagi had phoned him. We think that when Aoyagi learned Ono had reported liim, he forced his way into the apartment and attacked him. Our agents arrived soon afterwards and arrested him. We're sorry your friend was hurt for cooperating with us."
Haruko wanted to tell Rondo he was wrong, that Aoyagi couldn't have killed anyone or attacked his friend, but she realized she had little chance of convincing him and would probably just draw suspicion on herself. But then, almost miraculously, little Tatsumi asked a question that had been bothering her as well.
"How did Mr. Ono know he was a bad man?" Yes, how could he have known? It made no sense. Aoyagi hadn't been identified as the suspect until this morning.
"1 don't know the details," Rondo said, "but CTno said that Aoyagi gave himself away when he called. Aoyagi apparently asked for help with his escape, relying on their college friendship. That's when Ono called the police—and we were already investigating Aoyagi."
Tatsumi nodded.
"But how did Aoyagi get away?" Haruko asked.
"A man—we assume it was an associate—rammed the car and Aoyagi escaped in the confusion."
"An associate?"
"T he car used in the attack was stolen. T he woman who owned it . . ." Rondo paused for a moment, glancing at the children before continuing more quietly. "T he woman who owned it was found stabbed to death." Ami's eyes grew wide. T he story got wilder every minute, and Haruko felt as though a fog was settling over her brain. But she was sure of one thing: she could not make the image of Aoyagi in her head match the villain Rondo was describing. "We're using every resource at our disposal to find him. I he Security Bods are providing good information, and we've distributed his photo to every hcjtcT, hospital, and station. We assume there is a chance he'll try to contact .Mr. Ono again, which is why I've been sent here."
"He's coming here?" Ami blurted out.
"Not necessarily, but the |)()ssibilily exists. (T)uld I get your IcTephone numbers?" he asked abruptly.