Evil and the Mask

by Fuminori Nakamura

  I reached for my drink. The sweat on my palm mingled with the droplets on the surface of the glass.

  “At least if you’ve got money you can get a room somewhere and live by yourself, even if you’ve got no friends and nothing you can rely on. Don’t you agree?”

  “I guess.”

  “I didn’t think I’d ever be lucky, so I decided to at least save some money. Just recently, a bit at a time.”

  She smiled faintly. It was exactly the same as her smile from all those years ago. I remembered her room, without a single doll or stuffed toy.

  “You’ve got to be happy,’ I said, and then choked up.

  “What? You think so? Thank you.”

  The place was getting crowded. The piped music was still jumping from one style to another. My body felt limp but I managed to stand.

  “I’ll come again,” I said. “Would you be able to go out somewhere with me, or meet me somewhere or something like that?”

  “Really? I’d like that.”

  She smiled openly. I couldn’t get my words out properly.

  “But, are you sure? You don’t know what kind of guy I am.”

  “I’m sure. Usually we only go out with regular customers, but you’re a friend of Azumi’s.”

  Her white dress was still painful to look at.

  I WENT HOME and lay on my bed. I got an email from Kaori, saying that she’d enjoyed meeting me, that she wished I could have stayed longer, and that she hoped I’d come again. At the end she asked me playfully not to tell the manager about the toothbrush story.

  I read and reread her message, which seemed to have fewer emoticons than a typical email from someone in her line of work. I was strongly tempted to watch her recording again, but I resisted. I waited for about thirty minutes, drinking whiskey, and then sent her a reply. The next thing I knew I was waking up on the floor. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. Whiskey glass in hand, I moved to the couch and stared blankly at the wall. Its smooth, flat surface seemed to reject everything. I was covered in sweat. I’d had that dream about the chairs again. The one where there were six empty chairs in front of me, and I was waiting for something or someone that would judge my whole life. The phone rang, and I answered without thinking. It was Ito.

  “Are you drunk?” he asked.

  His voice echoed inside my head.

  “Well, never mind. You told me the cops had identified a member of JL. Where did you hear that?”

  “It doesn’t matter who I heard it from.”

  I really didn’t care. I had no interest in the subject at all.

  “You were right. We’re in deep shit. Actually there’s someone else who’s under suspicion, and I was more worried about him. I had no idea they’d spotted this other guy, the one you were telling me about, with the protruding jaw.”

  Ito’s breathing was a little uneven, as though he was on the move.

  “He’s close to me. If he gets caught I’ll be in real trouble. He’s the one that stole the cell phone from that woman detective you hired.”

  “So what?”

  “You’re pretty slow, aren’t you?” His voice rose. “That means he knows about you too. Even though you haven’t done anything yet, if he gets arrested the cops might start investigating you as well, in connection to JL. And he knows about Kaori.”

  “What?”

  “When I said I was going to use Kaori to get money out of Fumihiro, either by threatening him or by forming an alliance with him, he was against it. He said she must have money of her own, because she was Kuki’s daughter, so we should just take it directly from her instead of going to all that trouble. I disagreed, because I don’t like getting women involved on principle. But right now he’s probably desperate. He needs money to escape. And I can’t get hold of him, and I don’t know why.”

  He couldn’t hide the tension in his voice. I felt sweat trickling down my neck.

  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

  He was quiet for a second.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m only telling you this because if you’re pissed at me I’ll have no chance of getting money out of you. Plus I’m the one who got her mixed up in this. It’s got nothing to do with her.”

  “Thanks. Bye.”

  I hung up and immediately called Azusa Konishi. She answered after seven rings.

  “What are you doing now?” I asked her.

  “We finished early, so Kaori and I went to a restaurant. I’m on my way home. How did things go with her today?”

  It sounded like she was in a car.

  “I’ll tell you about that later, but could you get hold of her straight away, please? There might be this bad guy hanging around her apartment. It’s just a possibility, but could you put her up at your place or somewhere, just in case? Just till I know it’s safe.”

  “Sure. But why?”

  “A member of JL is on the run, and apparently he’s looking for money. He knows a lot about her, that she’s a Kuki and that she might be rich. I just want to play it safe.”

  “Understood.”

  “If there are any problems, give me a call, even in the middle of the night. And would you let me know as soon as you meet up with her?”

  “Will do.”

  I hung up, prowled around my room for a bit, and looked at the clock. It was still midnight. I wanted to do something, but realized that at the moment there wasn’t much I could do to help Kaori. I couldn’t just stay home, though, so I went down in the elevator, bought a can of coffee I didn’t really want from a vending machine and drank it as I walked. I was looking at the apartment building over the road when someone called my name from behind. Standing some distance away was Aida. I ignored him, and heard his irritated footsteps following me.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? As soon as I get here, I meet you outside your condo. There must be something between us after all.”

  He was panting.

  “It’s the other way around. Even though it’s late, I was going out just as you got here. Just bad timing.”

  “I still caught you. Only just, though, right?”

  He grinned, watching me intently through narrow eyes.

  “So, what do you want? You said we wouldn’t meet again.”

  He took out a photograph.

  “This is you, isn’t it? What’s the story?”

  It was me, all right, in a black coat, talking to someone. It was somewhere outside. All I could see of the other person was part of a hand, but I could tell from the wristband that it was Ito.

  “Yeah, that’s me. What about it?”

  “That guy who’s on the run, Kanzaki, he had this picture. The guy from JL. What does it mean?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  I realized that I was calm, probably thanks to the fact that Ito had warned me just before I came out.

  “Don’t tell me you’re in JL?”

  “Yeah right.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  His stare grew more searching.

  “I know you. At least, I think I do. You’re a hard-nosed realist. You’re not the type to join a group like that. My gut feeling tells me it’s impossible. That’s why I don’t get this. What’s going on?”

  “I told you, I don’t know.”

  I frowned, let out a long, slow sigh.

  “Was this taken with a digital camera? Or a cell phone? Are you saying that everyone he’s got a photo of is in JL? Anyway, that’s me in the picture, but it’s not focused on me. It’s pointing further away.”

  Aida was still holding up the photo.

  “That’s not unusual when people are trying to take pictures without being seen,” he said.

  “Well, then, maybe he was trying to take a picture of something else and missed? Maybe of that woman walking behind me, for example.”

  “So you reckon it’s just coincidence?”

  “I’m just guessing. Anyway, I’m not interested in your affairs. You’re a pain in the ass.”
/>
  “By the way,” he began, pointing a stubby finger at something over my shoulder. “What’s that car doing there?”

  A black car was parked at the corner of the condo, half its body sticking out like it wanted to be noticed. Mikihiko’s private eye.

  “Last time we met, that same car was following you and drove straight past us.”

  “Haven’t got a clue.”

  “Sure you don’t.”

  “Are you telling me that’s a JL car? An expensive model like that?”

  “You’ve got good eyesight. You can tell it’s expensive? When someone’s lying, their instincts are to say the first convenient fact that comes into their heads to back up the lie. They say one word too many.”

  At that moment my cell phone chirped to tell me I had mail. When I looked at the screen, it was from Azusa. She had just got into a taxi with Kaori. I breathed out slowly, my mind at ease for the time being.

  “What was that about?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Mind if I take a look at that email?”

  “Of course I mind. It’s from this woman. I gave it to her good yesterday, and she wrote to say she wants more.”

  “You really don’t like talking to me, do you? But I’ve got some news for you. Yaeko passed away.”

  He continued to observe me closely.

  “Is that so?”

  “Actually I was going to tell you that first, but for some reason I ended up talking about the photo instead. I wonder why?”

  “Beats me.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if I do understand you after all. To be honest, I came here today to show you this photo and to give you that bad news, because I wanted to see how you’d react. And your reactions were just too natural.”

  A strong wind was blowing.

  “Just like lots of really smart criminals I’ve met. Too natural.”

  I looked at him. He squinted back at me.

  “So now I’m trembling with joy,” he said.

  “You’re creepy, you know that?”

  “See, that’s the reaction I’m talking about.”

  We stared at each other for a long time. A noisy motorbike passed right beside us. He glared at me, unsmiling.

  “We will meet again, after all. Now I’ve got my eye on you for a different reason. A different reason.”

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  I squeezed past him, standing there like he was trying to block my way, and returned to the condo without glancing back.

  I OPENED THE curtain a fraction and peeked out the window. Mikihiko’s private detective was parked outside, and had been there for several hours. I grabbed my phone and called Azusa Konishi. I was thirsty, so I sipped a glass of water while it was ringing, though she answered after a few seconds. I knew it was a bit rushed, but today was my only chance.

  “I want you to call the cops right now, tell them there’s been a strange car sitting outside your apartment for a long time. It’s been following you, lying in wait for you all day. Give them my address.”

  “Okay. What color is it?”

  “Black. The driver is a man in his fifties.”

  I hung up and called for a taxi. Then I put on my coat and looked out the window, smoking.

  After about ten minutes a green taxi turned up, but I kept watching the black car, waiting for the police. Suddenly, however, the black car took off and disappeared around the corner. A minute later, as I was wondering what was going on, a patrol car arrived, its siren off. The timing, like it had been pre-arranged, gave me a bad feeling. Leaving the lights on, I took the elevator down, went outside and got into the cab, acting like I didn’t see the black and white, which was still prowling theatrically. At that moment, though, I realized the cop was staring right at me. Pretending to be looking at my cell phone, I told the driver my destination. I checked the reflection in the side mirror several times, and as we went around the corner I sneaked a glance behind me. The patrol car didn’t seem to be following.

  I switched taxis at a shopping mall, and then again outside a railway station. Finally I got out in a residential area I’d never seen before. It was gradually growing dark, and the tall apartment blocks seemed to loom over me. I passed the watery lights of a gym, the harsh glare of a convenience store. I turned into a claustrophobic alleyway, and a cat emerged from the shadow of an abandoned bicycle. As I approached the condo, I buttoned up my new coat, pulled a large beanie down over my ears and put on a pair of sunglasses and a white paper mask, as though I had a cold. The scrawny cat stared at me. I entered the building, conscious of the weight of the bag I was carrying.

  Just as the detective had said, there was no sign of any security cameras. Inside it was new but poky, and totally silent. I pushed the button for the seventh floor and the elevator doors slid closed. The building was full of tiny rooms that rich people rented for various reasons, no questions asked. Surrounded by apartment blocks, it was apparently used for storage and secret gang meetings, and women were also often seen coming and going.

  I pressed the doorbell. There was no answer. I’d come prepared with lock-picking tools, but when I tried the handle the door opened. I noted that it was a lever type. My throat was dry, my fingers clammy inside my gloves. Putting the hat and sunglasses back in my bag, I moved along the cold hallway to another door. When I opened it I could see an orange light casting a feeble glow. In the middle of the room, Mikihiko Kuki was slumped on a couch, drinking. Bile rose in my throat, and I forced it back down. There was a strong smell of a woman’s perfume. Walking slowly, I went and sat on the opposite sofa, facing him. He must have seen me, but he gave no sign of recognition. I placed the bag carefully on the floor.

  “I’ve been waiting. I thought you’d come here. My private eye told me he’d lost you.”

  I kept my face blank.

  “Anyway, you turned up at just the right time, because I was planning to meet you soon, and I can’t get my secretary to bring you here. This place is secret, and my wife’s bribed him to keep an eye on me. Stupid.”

  He took a mouthful of whiskey. The way he poured it slowly into his mouth bore an almost sickening resemblance to Father.

  “I bet you’re plotting something. Unfortunately, though, I’m not remotely interested in your schemes. Something to drink?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  I needed a drink—there was no way my tension would thaw out without one. There was no woman in the room, but I suspected there had been until a few minutes ago.

  “I hear you’ve got in touch with Kaori. Good. I don’t mind giving you the privilege of ruining her. Go and destroy her completely.”

  I drank my scotch. My throat grew hot, and then a warmth spread through my whole body.

  “She looks a lot like her.”

  Suddenly he looked at me with a taunting expression. The temperature in the room dropped sharply. His limbs were as relaxed as ever, but his gaze grew sharper.

  “You know you killed her, your mother?”

  It felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart. I sat there, right in front of him, staring at his face. He smiled faintly.

  “Well, sort of. Didn’t you? She died giving birth to you. What? You didn’t know?”

  The only thing I could see was his mouth moving.

  “The old house has a room hidden under the cellar, like this secret room here. The room where you killed Father. Yeah? But there’s another room below that, an even smaller one.”

  He took a slow breath.

  “That’s where all your mother’s belongings were. Did you know that? The clothes she was wearing, some odd keepsakes like the glass she was drinking out of, locks of her hair and so on. Why? Because your mother was the only woman that Shozo Kuki, our monstrous father, ever loved. Apparently he tended to become fixated on mementos. The only people who know about that are me and the housekeeper Tanabe.”

  He was tapping his glass with his fingernails.

  “I’ve alread
y found Father’s body, you know. When I heard that he’d gone missing, I thought he’d killed himself. Buried under relics of his dead lover. I visited the estate, called Tanabe, who’d been dismissed, and got her to open the underground room. Father had drunk the poison he carried on him. It appeared to be suicide, but it wasn’t. There were strange scratches on the door handle, and it looked to me like he’d been locked in. Tanabe thought so too. She also found a child’s footprints in the dust. She suspected you, but I wasn’t sure, because you were still just a kid. Could you have done something like that? But as soon as I saw the torment in your face as you lay in bed, I was certain. I thought, ‘Wow!’ You looked absolutely identical to him, as though you’d murdered him and taken on his features. Last time we talked I told you it was the first time we’d met, but actually I watched you when you were having a nightmare way back then.”

  I was finding it hard to breathe. I forced myself to look at him. He laughed.

  “What happened to Koichi Shintani? You had some kind of scheme in mind when you walked in here, didn’t you? Don’t say you’ve forgotten? Well, it must be hard to keep up the act when you’re faced with the truth. But don’t worry, Tanabe got rid of the old man’s body, along with all your mother’s stuff. The suicide of the chairman of the Kuki Group would have been too much of a shock for the affiliated companies. Even worse if they found out that he was killed by his own son. It’s better to leave it unclear, whereabouts unknown, just treat him as dead. Like he had an accident while he was enjoying a hike in the mountains or fishing in a river somewhere. Tanabe was Father’s mistress, and mine too. She hated your mother, so she burned all her things. And she was devoted to Father, so she dealt with his body as well. Cleaning up your mess.”

  He kept drinking his whiskey. His eyes were glazed with alcohol, and the smell was gradually drowning out the lingering scent of perfume. I couldn’t keep up with what he was saying.

  “Kaori looks like your mother. Not so much her face, just her general aura. I saw her once, and that’s what I thought. I haven’t been able to find out who her parents were, no matter how hard I looked, but I’d say they had some loose connection to the Kukis. Because Father was attracted to her, and so am I, even though she’s not all that good-looking. She doesn’t look anything like my mother, but somehow she’s got under my skin. I’ll tell you a story.”