Bullet Train

by Kotaro Isaka

  ‘So, what, make sure I get off at Omiya, right? Got it.’

  ‘It’ll be fine, there’ll be no problem. I just wanted to put a little pressure on you, just in case.’

  ‘Pressure?’

  ‘I just spoke to our client. I told him my star player has the bag but wasn’t able to get off at Ueno. I mean, I don’t think it’s a major problem that you’re getting off at Omiya, but I figured I should keep him in the loop. It’s just good business. Like how they teach new employees to report any problems or cock-ups to their supervisors.’

  ‘Was he angry?’

  ‘He went as white as a sheet. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell the blood was draining from his face.’

  ‘Why would he go white?’ Nanao could at least understand it if the client was angry. Whereas this reaction gives him a sense of foreboding, a premonition that this is much more than just a simple job.

  ‘Our client is taking his orders from another client. That is to say, we’re subcontractors for a subcontractor.’

  ‘That happens often enough.’

  ‘Indeed it does. But the main client who first ordered the job is a man in Morioka, name of Minegishi.’

  The train lurches from side to side. Nanao loses his footing and has to grab on to a nearby handhold. He puts the phone back to his ear. ‘Who did you say? I missed that.’ As soon as he asks, the train enters a tunnel. The view out the windows goes dark. A rush of noise envelops the train, low and loud, like an animal growling. When he was little, Nanao was petrified any time he was on a train that went into a tunnel. He felt like there was a giant monster snuffling around in the dark, bringing its face up to the train, inspecting the passengers for the choicest morsels. He would feel it turn towards him, leering lasciviously, Any naughty children, any children ripe for the plucking, so he would curl up into a ball and try to remain perfectly still. Now he realises it was probably residual fear from being mistakenly kidnapped. Back then he thought that if there was any unlucky passenger likely to be taken by the monster it was him.

  ‘Minegishi. You’ve heard of him – yes? You must at least know the name.’

  For a moment Nanao doesn’t follow what Maria is saying, but then it clicks, and the moment it does his stomach tightens. ‘Minegishi. You mean that Minegishi?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’

  ‘The one who maybe cut off a girl’s arm for being late.’

  ‘Five minutes. Just five minutes late.’

  ‘He’s one of those characters who’s always popping up in stories we tell to scare young criminals. I’ve heard rumours. They say he hates it when people don’t do their jobs properly.’ As the words leave his lips Nanao feels a wave of dizziness. Together with the swaying in his legs from the train and it’s almost enough to make him topple over.

  ‘See?’ says Maria. ‘See what I mean? We’re in trouble. We didn’t do our job properly.’

  ‘This feels like it isn’t really happening. Are you sure the main client is Minegishi?’

  ‘Not a hundred per cent, but it definitely feels that way.’

  ‘If it just feels that way, then we don’t know for certain.’

  ‘That’s true. But our client sounds terrified, like he’s worried what Minegishi will do to him. I told him that if you get off at Omiya it won’t be that big of a problem, that he should keep calm, nothing to cry about.’

  ‘Do you think Minegishi knows what happened? I mean that I didn’t get off at Ueno. That I didn’t do the job right.’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess it all depends on how our client handles it. Whether he’s too scared to make a report, or if he runs off to confess because he’s worried what’ll happen if he doesn’t.’

  ‘Hey, wasn’t there someone who called you with the intel on where the bag was?’ The detail comes back to Nanao: right after the Shinkansen left Tokyo Station Maria got word that the suitcase was in the storage area between cars three and four. ‘Which means that the person who gave you the information might still be on the train.’

  ‘Could be. So what?’

  ‘So that person is on my side, on team steal-the-bag. Right?’ The thought of having an ally on the train is heartening to Nanao.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it. That person’s job was just to confirm the location of the bag and call me. They probably got off at Ueno.’ He has to admit she’s probably right. ‘Well, are you feeling a little nervous? Like you’ll be in trouble if you don’t do the job right?’

  ‘It was always my intention to do the job right.’ As he says it Nanao nods resolutely. I can’t think of anyone else who tries as hard as me to do things right. I mean, depends on your definition of doing things right, but I never had my head in the clouds, I always put one foot in front of the other, I never complained about how poor my parents were, I never gave in to despair, I just stole that football and tried to get better and better at kicking it. I wouldn’t be surprised if other people look up to me.

  ‘You do do the job right. But you’re unlucky. I never know what’s going to happen.’

  ‘It’ll be fine.’ Of course, he isn’t responding to Maria so much as telling himself, insisting on how things are supposed to go. ‘I hid the bag. We’re almost at Omiya. When I get off there, the job’s over. Minegishi will have no reason to be mad.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. But I’ve learned an important lesson since we started working together: life is full of bad luck, just lying in wait. A job that feels like it’s impossible to mess up can go unexpectedly wrong. Or even if the job doesn’t go wrong, something else terrible can happen. Every time you go out, I discover a new way for things to fall apart.’

  ‘But every time you still say it’s a simple job.’

  ‘Which is always true. It’s not my fault that trouble follows you around. You could be about to cross a foot bridge and try stomping on it just to make extra sure it was stable and you’d end up hitting a bee that was resting on the bridge and it would sting you and you’d fall into the river. It’s always like that with you. I bet you’ve never played golf, right?’

  What? ‘Uh, no.’

  ‘Don’t. You’d get the ball in the hole, and then you’d reach in to get the ball back, and a rat would pop out and bite your finger.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Why would a rat live in a golf hole?’

  ‘Because you played golf there. I’m telling you. You’re a genius at finding ways to mess things up.’

  ‘You should get me a job where the mission is to mess up the job. It would probably go well,’ Nanao jokes. But Maria doesn’t laugh.

  ‘No, because then you wouldn’t mess up.’

  ‘Murphy’s Law.’

  ‘Are you talking about Eddie Murphy?’

  But anxiety suddenly clutches at Nanao. ‘I should go and check on the bag.’ He looks towards the front of the train.

  ‘Good idea. With you involved, the hidden bag going missing sounds like a distinct possibility.’

  ‘Don’t make this any worse, please.’

  ‘Careful. I bet you going to check if the bag is still there will mess something up.’

  Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Nanao wants to scream, but he has to admit that Maria’s probably right.

  The Prince

  HE TAKES THE DUCT TAPE off of Kimura’s wrists and ankles, setting the man free, but he isn’t at all concerned. If Kimura lets his feelings get the better of him, turns violent, it’ll put his son in danger. The man knows this by now. He doesn’t think the Prince is bluffing. He knows that the Prince isn’t one to lie about something like that. And now the Prince is asking for Kimura’s help, which suggests that if he does a good job his son might escape danger. There are lots of things Kimura could do to get himself out of his current situation, but the chances that he would willingly put his son’s life in danger are extremely slim. As long as a person believes things could still work out, they tend not to try anything desperate.

  ‘What do you want me to do?�
�� Kimura asks sullenly, rubbing his ankles where they had been taped up. It has to be humiliating for him to ask orders from someone he hates, but he’s working to suppress his emotions. The Prince finds it extremely amusing.

  ‘We’re going to go together to one of the gangways a little further back. You know how there’s a trash bin in the wall? The suitcase is in there.’

  ‘It fits in the trash bin?’

  ‘No, I didn’t know this either but the wall with the trash is actually a panel and it opens up.’

  ‘And that’s where the guy with the black glasses hid it, huh? Okay, so we get the bag, and then what? It’s a suitcase, right, so it’s not exactly small. We bring it here and keep it by our seats, it’ll be seen.’

  The Prince nods. The bag isn’t that large, but they wouldn’t be able to hide it anywhere near the seats.

  ‘There are two things we could do,’ he says as they move from their car into the gangway. Then he steps over to the window and turns to face Kimura. ‘The first is to have the conductor hold it.’

  ‘The conductor?’

  ‘Yes. Take the bag to the conductor, explain the situation, and have him hold on to it. I imagine there’s a crew room or something where he could store it. If it’s in there the owner will never find it.’

  ‘What, you’d say you found a random bag? Or that it fell off the rack? They’d just make an announcement on the PA and everyone on the train would know. You’d have the people who want this suitcase lining up in front of the crew room.’

  ‘I’d come up with a better story than that. Like this is my suitcase, but the man sitting next to me keeps eyeing it and I’m afraid he wants to steal it, so could you please hold on to it until I get off the train, something like that.’ When he mentions the man sitting next to him, he points at Kimura.

  ‘Oh, no, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.’

  ‘Not if it comes from an honest-looking schoolkid like me.’

  Kimura snorts, making a show of disdain for the plan. But it’s plain to see that he’s realising the Prince probably could con the conductor without too much trouble. ‘Still, if you give the bag to the conductor then you won’t have it.’

  ‘I can get it back when we get to Morioka, and if that seems problematic I can just leave it there. I want to know what’s in it, but it’s more important that it’s hidden. That way I can have influence over the people who want it.’

  ‘What, like with your classmates and the robot cards?’

  ‘Exactly. But I also thought of another thing I could do with it. Which would be to just take the contents.’ The bag that the man with the black glasses seemed so concerned about has a four-digit combination lock. ‘Keep trying different combinations and eventually it’ll open.’

  ‘You’re gonna try every single possible combination? Do you have any idea how many there are? Good luck, kid.’ Kimura clearly thinks it’s a stupid idea cooked up by a child. The Prince feels sorry for the man and his inability to escape his prejudices.

  ‘It won’t be me doing it, it’ll be you. You’ll take it into the bathroom and start trying combinations.’

  ‘Like hell I will. Do that in the toilet? No way.’

  The Prince bites back his laughter at how easily Kimura loses his cool.

  ‘Mr Kimura, I’m getting tired of telling you this over and over again, but if you don’t do as I say your son will be in trouble. It’ll be much better for you to just take the suitcase into the bathroom and play with the combination lock. Much, much better.’

  ‘If I’m in the toilet for that long the conductor’ll notice.’

  ‘I’ll come by and check the scene every once in a while. If people are lining up I’ll let you know. You can come out, wait until it clears, and then go back in. It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong by turning the dials on a combination lock. There’s all sorts of workable excuses.’

  ‘I’ll be turning dials till I die. I got no intention of sitting turning dials until I’m old and grey.’

  The Prince starts walking again. He enters the next car, makes his way down the aisle, imagining what Kimura must be thinking as he follows. The man is close behind, staring at the back of the very person who pushed his son off a roof. No doubt he wants to pounce. His desire to do violence is palpable. If the setting allowed for it, he would grab the Prince by the arm, pull him close, strangle him to death. But Kimura can’t do any of that. It’s far too public here in the Shinkansen, but more than that, his son’s life hangs in the balance.

  Just picturing Kimura’s teeth-grinding frustration fills the Prince with warmth and well-being.

  ‘Mr Kimura,’ he says, glancing back over his shoulder as they pass through car number six. Sure enough, Kimura’s face is twisted into an ugly mask at having to keep his rage in check. The Prince finds the sight delectable. ‘It won’t take as long as you think to find the combination. It’ll be something between 0000 and 9999, so that’s ten thousand possible combinations. Say you try one combination per second, that’s ten thousand seconds. About one hundred sixty-seven minutes. Less than two hours and fifty minutes. And I bet it won’t even take that long. You’ll probably be able to do more than one per second, and also –’

  ‘You do all that maths in your head? What a clever boy.’ Kimura says it mockingly, but this just makes him sound even more stupid to the Prince.

  ‘– and also, you’d be surprised at how lucky I am. Even when I act more or less randomly, usually it works out for me. I win raffles and things like that all the time. It’s always been like that for me, my whole life. It’s almost bizarre. So I bet you’ll find the right combination relatively quickly. Maybe even in the first thirty minutes, somewhere between 0000 and 1800.’

  They emerge into the next gangway. It’s deserted. The Prince walks right up to the trash bin in the wall.

  ‘What, here?’ Kimura steps up beside him.

  ‘Look.’ He points at the round protrusion. ‘Push that, then give it a pull and a twist.’

  Kimura does as he’s told, extends his hand, pushes, pulls, twists. The panel swings open. He makes a little noise of surprise. The Prince leans closer and they look inside together. There it is on the top shelf: the black suitcase.

  ‘That’s it. Go ahead, grab it.’

  Kimura is slightly dazed by the revelation of the secret compartment, but the Prince’s words snap him back to attention. He reaches in and lifts the bag out. As he lowers it to the floor the Prince shuts the panel neatly.

  ‘Okay, Mr Kimura, get in there and get opening.’ The Prince points to the toilet door. ‘We should set a signal. If there’s a problem, I’ll knock. Some other passenger might try knocking, so ours has to be a special one. So, if people are waiting in line and you should come out for a little, I’ll knock five times, knock-knock-knock-knock-knock. I doubt anyone else would knock five times. And if someone who looks like trouble is nearby, I’ll go knock-knock, knock. Three times, with a pause.’

  ‘Who do you think might look like trouble?

  ‘Maybe the man with the black glasses.’ As he says it the Prince pictures the worried-looking man. Then he thinks that even if this man accuses him of stealing the bag, he could almost certainly talk his way out of it. Some people are tough to handle, but others are simple. It has a little to do with their smarts and abilities, but it’s mostly based on their fundamental character and psychology. People who let themselves get pushed around don’t get any savvier as they get older. That’s why there will always be opportunities for scammers and con artists. ‘Or the other taller man who was looking for the suitcase.’ That man seemed more dangerous, like he could get violent at a moment’s notice. ‘If someone like that comes along, I’ll knock twice, then again.’

  ‘Knock-knock, knock. And then what do I do?’

  The Prince can’t stop himself from smiling. Kimura’s already relying on him, looking to him to make the decisions. He almost wants to encourage the man to think for himself.

  ‘It’ll dep
end on the situation. Just wait inside and stay alert. When the person goes away I’ll knock again, just once.’

  ‘And what about if they don’t look like they’re gonna go away?’

  ‘I’ll figure something out. Anyway, I don’t think anyone would guess that you’re inside trying to figure out the combination, so I doubt they would wait around too long.’

  ‘I gotta say, I didn’t expect such a vague plan from you.’

  Kimura intends it as a jab, but the Prince doesn’t take it to heart. He doesn’t see any need for a complex plan. It’s more important to be flexible, to keep calm when something happens and choose the next move.

  ‘All right, Mr Kimura, you’re on. Find that number. Open the case. Ready, set, go.’ The Prince tugs Kimura’s sleeve in the direction of the toilet.

  ‘Hey, don’t get all high and mighty with the orders. You think I’m just gonna do whatever you say?’

  ‘I do. If I come back and you’re not in the toilet, if you try to run off somewhere, I’ll just make a phone call. You know, to my friend at the hospital. And that’ll be the end of your boy. Aren’t phones dangerous? You can do all sorts of things with a phone.’

  Kimura glares with fury but the Prince pays him no mind. He just opens the door to the bathroom. Kimura enters grumbling. The lock clicks into place.

  The Prince checks his watch. Almost at Omiya, but still a fair amount of time until Morioka. He has a feeling they’ll have the case open before then.

  As the Prince waits there in the gangway, the door to car five towards the rear of the train opens with a sound like a gust of wind.

  The man with the black glasses steps through. He looks smart in his jean jacket and cargo pants. He has creases next to his eyes that make him look kind, like he smiles often. The Prince is careful to look natural as he steps over to the toilet door and knocks twice, then a third time. He tries to make it seem as if he’s been waiting a bit to use the toilet but is finally giving up. Then he turns, as if just noticing the man with the black glasses. ‘Oh, hey,’ he says. ‘Is your friend who drank too much okay?’