“Congratulations on making such good use of Anzai.”
The smile returned to Ito’s face.
“He was an employee. They’re there to be used.”
“You sent Anzai after Mina Kuroda. To get evidence to bring the chairman down.”
“What a shocking thing to come out with! Such conjecture! Anzai was a hard worker. I was the most shocked of anyone when I heard what had happened to him.”
Fixing Ito with a stare, Yuuki spoke.
“Beginning tomorrow morning, I need five hundred extra copies of the paper delivered to Fujioka City.”
“What? I haven’t heard anything about this.”
Yuuki explained the Editorial Department’s plan. It was obvious Ito was disgusted by it.
“That’s going to be a problem. Say we deliver to all three of the families’ standby locations, that’s one hundred and seventy copies per location. Each of the newsdealers employs the minimum staff to cover their deliveries. They can’t manage that many more.”
“They don’t have to deliver every single copy separately. All they need to do is drop off a pile at each standby location. Anyone who wants to read it can just pick up a copy themselves.”
“You editorial people have no idea. That’s why you come up with nonsense like that. In rural areas and up in the mountains there aren’t any exclusive NKT newsdealers. We’re forced to share with our rivals. The shops all handle Asahi and Mainichi, too, so we can’t be asking them to do special deliveries just for us.”
Such a spineless snake, Yuuki thought. But he had another suggestion ready.
“How about if our delivery van just drops them off directly at the standby centers?”
“That’d be completely out of their way. After Fujioka, that van has to go to Manba in the Tano District, to Nakasato, and then all the way up to Uenomura. It’ll be late getting to those newsdealers.”
“It’d take them no more than five or ten minutes, surely?” Yuuki hadn’t expected this last comment to infuriate Ito so much.
“For God’s sake! Those five or ten minutes are critical to the newsdealers! They’re up every morning at one or two a.m. with all their staff, stuffing those papers into plastic bags. They have to take all the flyers and ads and fold them up inside every single copy, one by one. After that’s finished, they have to divide them up by destination. There’s a whole elaborate plan of attack they have to go through every single day. It’s like a battle. Ten minutes’ delay and the newsdealers lose it completely. They’re on the phone complaining to us every minute that passes.”
His usual careful enunciation had vanished.
“If we’re not careful, our readers get their delivery late. And a newspaper that’s delivered after breakfast time has no right to call itself a newspaper.”
So the Circulation Department also took great pride in their work. It was the first time Yuuki had thought about that. But still, this was the head of the Circulation Department—as well as a manipulative puppet master and political operator. In the course of this short conversation, Ito had shown him two different faces, and Yuuki’s dislike and distrust of the man had grown considerably.
“So you’re telling me that you refuse to accept five hundred extra copies?”
“Now, that’s not what I said. The whole JAL thing is finally calming down. If the newsroom can get a move on with the proofs, get that printing press turning quickly … then perhaps we can squeeze out an extra five or ten minutes to stop at the standby locations.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yes, as long as you get yourselves properly organized.”
Having extracted this promise from him, Yuuki responded to Ito’s last barb.
“Sometimes we can’t get the proofs together early.”
“Because you’re having so much fun putting them together, I suppose,” sneered Ito.
“Having fun? What the hell does that mean?”
“That’s what it looks like to us. There are always crowds of people standing around with serious frowns on their faces, pretending to consider it all so deeply, but when all’s said and done, you’re just having fun doing jigsaw puzzles with the news. It’s all about the thrill you get as the deadline approaches. Isn’t that what’s really going on?”
Yuuki’s eyebrows shot up.
“Accident and crime articles are often last-minute. It’s vital to get the very latest information in there.”
“That’s not what the readers expect. It’s all just masturbation on the part of the Editorial Department. Just put yourself in our shoes for once. All the trouble you cause with your self-indulgent games, all the messing around, it has repercussions on all the other departments, you know.”
“What’s the point of a Circulation Department that can’t even deal with customers’ complaints?”
Ito’s narrow eyes slowly widened.
“What did—?”
But Yuuki couldn’t help himself.
“Night after night, you burn through company money, entertaining shopkeepers and newsdealers. I’m just asking, what’s the point of all that?”
“I told you already. To get the newsdealers to give us equal footing with the other newspaper companies. What would happen if they decided they didn’t want to sell NKT anymore? Are you assholes going to go up to the mountains and go house-to-house delivering papers? If the newspaper home-delivery system breaks down, it’s all over for us. All we can do is take them out, wine and dine them, and make them happy to deliver our papers.”
“That’s a very convenient argument. How many copies of other newspapers do they really sell up in the mountain regions? It’s got to be an insignificant number. The NKT is the newsdealers’ bread and butter. So it’s a give-and-take relationship. We scratch their back, they’ll scratch ours. How much money do you waste on all those pointless indulgences?”
Ito banged his fist on the table. The two men glowered at each other.
Ito’s desk phone and Yuuki’s pager rang at the same time. Yuuki got up, and Ito followed suit. The Circulation chief narrowed his eyes again.
“I really wouldn’t act so smug if I were you. A newspaper isn’t all that big a thing in the long run. Why don’t you try putting out an edition with two or three blank pages in the middle? We can sell it for you, no problem.”
They turned away from each other. Yuuki started toward the door, then spun around. He called over to Ito, who had already put the receiver to his ear.
“There’s one thing I forgot to tell you—we’re going to have to push back the deadline. We in the Editorial Department appreciate your understanding.”
31
It was almost six o’clock, and a cigarette fog hung over the newsroom.
Yuuki’s phone rang the moment he reached his desk. It was Sayama. He’d arrived in Uenomura and met up with Tamaki. Before going to the village office he’d taken a few moments to check out the inn where the accident investigation team was staying. He’d discovered that the side entrance was kept unlocked.
For now, Yuuki occupied himself with the wires on his desk.
Huge victory for Nodai Niko High; tell bereaved teammate “We did it for you”
Tears during school song; bereaved family watches from standby center
Survivor testimony: panic in the passenger cabin
“Unfasten your seat belt!” father yelled right before impact
Inquest confirms there were originally more survivors
Struggle continues to ID deceased, now at 181
Fuselage cut open to remove remains
Solemn funeral service for thirty-six dead
Ashes transported home
“Yuuki?”
He was interrupted by the voice of Inaoka from Heartfelt, the readers’ letters page. The older man was pressing his hands together in a gesture of apology.
“I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to get the special feature on the JAL crash together today.”
“Why is that?”
&nb
sp; “I’m afraid I have four or five letters left over from the anniversary of the end of the war. Today’s the last day I can really use them. The content is rather interesting and I don’t want to have to discard them.”
Yuuki was secretly relieved. Oimura was already on the point of explosion, and he had neglected to run his idea for Heartfelt past the higher-ups. He thought it was probably best to give Oimura a day or two to cool off. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for him to order Inaoka, as a colleague far senior to him, to postpone publication, so he’d been in a quandary. If Inaoka were to put together the JAL crash special feature today, as they’d planned, he’d have had to prepare for the barrage of criticism and invective that would come raining down from a furious Oimura. Anyway, for Inaoka to change the plan was the best possible outcome all around.
“When do you think you’ll be able to put it together?”
“Well, tomorrow is the legal advice special, and I can’t really take space away from that, so how about the day after that?”
“That’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Yuuki bowed, but then, as he spun his chair back around to face his desk, he felt a little dizzy. Yes, he’d caught a cold or something—ever since he’d been back in the newsroom, his forehead had felt a little feverish. Lack of sleep, his fury at Ito, the anticipation of having a huge scoop right there at his fingertips—any of these could be the cause of it. He’d refused to acknowledge it, but just now he’d started to get chills running up and down his back.
He got up, crossed the newsroom, and switched the output from the air conditioner down from five to three. Then he stopped off at the editorial admin island, where there was a vacant desk that was used as a kind of medicine cabinet. He opened the drawer, found some medicine for colds, and swallowed it without water. On his way back to his own workstation his legs seemed a bit wobbly, but he wondered if it was just because he had finally acknowledged that he might have a cold. For now it was better to persevere until the deadline. He got back to the wires.
Japan-U.S. joint investigation team arrives at the crash site
Tailpiece fell in the sea off Shimoda, tide calculations confirm
Piece of passenger cabin roof drifts ashore
Engine #4 found
He knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he had doubts about Tamaki’s story. Although he was concentrating deeply on reading the articles, he didn’t miss the sound of the fax machine kicking into gear. He glanced up to see Kishi getting to his feet.
“It’s probably for me,” Yuuki said, forcing himself not to sound too excited. He leapt up and nimbly made it to the fax machine before Kishi. As he’d expected, the cover sheet read “Tamaki, Maebashi.” Tamaki had forgotten to call before sending the fax. The intro began to come through.
On the 17th, following investigations into the crash of the Japan Airlines jumbo jet that left 520 people dead, the Ministry of Transportation’s Aircraft Accident Investigation Committee announced the most likely cause of the crash to be “rupturing of the pressure bulkhead, situated at the rear of the aircraft.” The same aircraft suffered what is known as a tail-strike accident at Osaka Airport seven years ago, and it is believed that inadequate repair work done at that time on the damaged bulkhead contributed to the accident. Because of this, investigators—
A shiver ran down Yuuki’s spine, but this time it had nothing to do with having a cold. The fax continued to churn out paper. Yuuki stood close to the machine to shield its contents from prying eyes, grabbing each page as soon as it came out. He turned each page over and piled them upside down.
There were twenty-three pages in total. A hundred and fifteen lines of print. A real epic work. Yuuki took them back to his desk and, with a red pen in one hand, created a kind of wall with his arms and shoulders and began to read.
It was a long-winded draft. Clearly a lot of effort had been put into it. It was a mixture of fact and conjecture and lacked coherence in places. It required major surgery.
First Yuuki slashed anything that was superfluous. Then he excised all the risky passages. Then he nipped and tucked, connecting the sections neatly together until they formed a coherent article. He read it over once more and removed some more of the surplus. A good story didn’t need any excess flab. The bare bones were all that should remain.
He put down his red pen and looked at the clock: 8:15 p.m. He’d spent an hour fixing the article. He put the proofs into a neat pile. Thirteen pages, sixty-three lines—about half of what he’d started with.
He slipped the proofs into his desk drawer and picked up the phone. He dialed the extension for Yoshii in the copy team and watched him reach for his phone. He kept his voice low.
“Yuuki here.”
Yoshii’s childlike face glanced over.
“The thing we talked about yesterday, it’s happening tonight.”
Even from across the room, Yuuki could see Yoshii’s expression freeze. There was a beat before he replied.
“How many lines?”
“Only about sixty. Can you prepare another mock-up, separate from the Nodai Niko High School one?”
“Got it. When will you have it ready?”
“Can you have the layout ready by tenish?”
“Easily.”
“Speak to you later.”
As soon as Yoshii replaced the receiver, Yuuki dialed Tamaki’s pager. Fifteen minutes later, Tamaki called back.
“This is Tamaki. Did you page me?”
His voice was loud and upbeat. Yuuki kept his own voice low.
“I read your article.”
“It was a little too long, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t worry about that. I want to know how things are going at your end.”
“Sayama-san is on standby on the hill at the back.”
“Hill at the back?”
“There’s a small hill covered in bamboo right behind the inn. You can see right into the building from it.”
Yuuki gave a small nod.
“And the accident investigators?”
“They ate dinner a while ago, they’ve already been to the bathhouse. Now they seem to be chatting in the lounge.”
“And the other media?”
“Same as always. They’re all loitering around the inn.”
“How about your position? How far away are you from the inn?”
“I’m at a public phone a little way down the road. It’s about a fifteen-minute round-trip.”
“I see. Right, I won’t call you again unless there’s a major development. I’ll expect a call from you.”
“About what time?”
“Call me when Sayama gets into the inn.”
“Understood. Um, one more thing … Sayama-san wanted me to ask you something.”
“What?”
“When’s tonight’s deadline?”
For a moment Yuuki didn’t know what to say.
But of course—Sayama had set off to Uenomura without asking about the deadline. There was still some lingering fallout from the incident with Sayama’s eyewitness account. Perhaps Yuuki had subconsciously avoided the topic with Sayama.
He looked up at the clock again. It was 9:45 p.m. But it wasn’t the hands of the clock that Yuuki was studying. He was staring at the space between the figures 12 and 2.
He made up his mind in seconds.
“One a.m.,” he whispered into the mouthpiece. “And depending on the situation at your end, I can wait until half past.”
“Half past one? Can you even do that?”
“Give Sayama the message.”
“Okay. I will.”
Yuuki hung up.
He could sense the strained atmosphere on either side of him. Both Kishi and Nozawa were clearly dying to know what was going on. Their silence spoke volumes.
Yuuki pulled the pile of Kyodo wires toward him. His heart was beating faster than usual, and his breathing was agitated. But it wasn’t the cold he’d caught that was causing this; it was the contents of his des
k drawer.
It was ten to ten by the time he’d finished reading all the wires. Ten more minutes … Yuuki waited.
“Ten o’clock!” People in the newsroom began to get up from their seats. A special late-shift team had been put together in order to cover the JAL crash, but about one-third of the staff of the newsroom were leaving at ten, as usual. The remaining shift was known as the “last call.” They wouldn’t leave the building until the final proofs were ready.
Yuuki carefully slid open his desk drawer and retrieved Tamaki’s manuscript.
“Kishi? Do we have an NKT staff directory?”
Kishi was half standing, stuffing papers into his bag. He stared at Yuuki for a few moments, then picked up a booklet from his desk.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
Yuuki found the page he was looking for and propped it open with a paperweight. He pulled Tamaki’s manuscript closer and added at the end of the intro: “Akihiko Tamaki, Tatsuya Sayama.” It was the first full-name credit in the history of the North Kanto Times.
Yuuki looked over at Kishi.
“Do you have any plans tonight?”
“No. Nothing in particular.”
“Could you keep me company on the last call?”
Yuuki handed him Tamaki’s manuscript. Kishi took it and began to read. His expression changed. He gave Yuuki a sharp look, then laughed. Yuuki glanced at Nozawa, who quickly pretended to be absorbed by the proofs of the entertainment pages.
“Nozawa!”
No reply.
“Take a look at this for me. And when you’ve finished, pass it to Yoshii.”
Without waiting for a response, Yuuki got up. Even as he set off across the newsroom, he still wasn’t sure where he was heading. To see editor in chief Kasuya? Or managing editor Oimura? Local news section chief Todoroki? Which one of the three should he talk to?
This time yesterday, he wouldn’t have hesitated to go straight to Kasuya’s office. He would have deliberately insulted both Oimura and Todoroki by going over their heads. He felt no sense of duty toward Oimura. And Todoroki had been responsible for killing Sayama’s eyewitness article. Still …
Yuuki headed for the row of desks by the wall. Todoroki was at his.
Seventeen Page 24