'Word gets around when you're good,' he said. Masako was silent, ignoring his enthusiasm. He could sense her uneasiness, but he had to get her to agree. 'Can I count on you?' he said.
'Why don't we pass on this one?'
'Why?'
'I just don't feel right about it.'
'Our second job, and you don't feel right? I'm not sure I follow you.' He was pressing now. 'I'll have egg on my face if we turn this down.'
'Better that than something worse,' she said enigmatically. 'What do you mean by that?'
'I don't know, I just don't feel good about this.'
'You've got a cold; you don't feel good. But that's got nothing to do with the job.' He was getting desperate. 'I have to go all the way to Kyushu to dump it. You're not the only one taking a risk here, you know that.'
'I know,' she murmured. Jumonji was upset now.
'If you pull out, I'll get the Skipper to do it, or Kuniko. That cow would do anything if the price was right.'
'You can't do that,' Masako said. 'If she messes up, she'll put us all in danger.'
'Of course she will!' he moaned. 'So you've got to do it. Just this once.'
'All right,' she said, giving in. 'Can you get some goggles?' As soon as she'd made up her mind, she was all business. Jumonji breathed a sigh of relief.
'I'll bring the ones I wear on my bike. They should be okay.'
'Then call me if anything changes.'
Satisfied that the negotiation had gone so well, Jumonji snapped the phone shut again and glanced at his watch. There was plenty of time before he had to be at Koganei Park - time enough to find another girl like the one who got away. With all that money coming in, he could pay whatever she asked. He looked out across the crowded street, resuming the hunt. He didn't have time now to wonder why Masako had seemed so hesitant.
-
Four a.m. As arranged, Jumonji parked his car at the back entrance to Koganei Park. A dense wall of vegetation loomed over the guard rail that lined one side of the street. On the other side, a row of houses lay sleeping behind tightly closed shutters. There were no streetlights in the area, and the neighbourhood was dark and lifeless. Jumonji turned his back to the line of black trees in the park, trying to ignore the eerie rustling of the wind in the branches. He suddenly remembered that Kuniko had left her share of a dead body somewhere near here, and he found the coincidence slightly unnerving.
It was cold. Sniffling a bit, he moved his hands toward the buttons of his coat only to discover they'd all been torn off. For that he could thank the girl he'd been with just a while ago, whom he'd taken for a teenager until he found out she was actually twenty-one. He had caught her searching his coat when he came out of the bath, and the buttons had come off when he'd grabbed it from her. Crummy luck - the words popped into his head - but he was quick to drive them out again. What was crummy about an unexpected bonus of three million? But just as he'd managed to steer his thoughts in this direction, he heard a car coming from the right, and a pair of headlights lit up the area.
Soga stepped out of the black sedan and raised his hand in greeting. Despite the time of night, he was wearing a camelcoloured cashmere coat over a black suit. The kid with the dyedblond hair was driving, and another fellow had climbed out of the car behind his boss. Soga nodded to Jumonji with a sleepy look.
'Sorry to get you out so early,'Jumonji said.
'I wanted to see this character for myself,' Soga said, turning up his collar and shoving his hands in his pockets.
'And his little problem,' Jumonji added.
'If he's willing to pay ten million to get it fixed, it might not be so little.'
'You may be right.'
'You going to cart it away in that?' Soga said, pointing at Jumonji's car.
'What else?'
Soga pulled a face. For the first job, the driver and the other guy had brought the body and the cash to Jumonji; Soga had merely arranged things by phone. Jumonji had felt a bit resentful that he was making two million for a few calls.
'All part of the job,' he added.
'Well, you're a better man than I am,' Soga said, patting him on the shoulder sympathetically. At that moment, a van appeared from the opposite end of the street and rolled toward them with its high beams blazing, like the eyes of a wild animal.
'It's him,' Soga said. He ground out his cigarette on the guard rail and handed the butt to his deputy.
'What do I do with this?' the man asked, holding it in his outstretched palm.
'We can't leave any evidence in the area, asshole,' Soga said. 'Eat it.'
'Eat it? Really?'
'No, you idiot. Just take care of it.' The guy quickly shoved the butt in his pocket. Jumonji swallowed. He no longer felt cold. The van stopped in front of them, but the lights were still on high, obscuring their view of it. The door on the driver's side opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and solidly built, dressed unobtrusively in a jacket and work pants. His cap partially hid his face, but the sight of him made Jumonji shiver, though he wasn't sure why.
'Soga, from the Toyosumi organisation,' Soga said.
'Bit of a crowd, isn't it?' the man murmured.
'Sorry. It's just that we haven't dealt with you before. I wanted to ask how you heard about our service.'
'Does it matter?'
'I'm afraid it does.'
'Nosy, aren't you?' the man said, taking a paper bag from his pocket and tossing it toward them. Soga caught it and checked the contents. Peering over his shoulder, Jumonji could see bundles of ¥10,000 bills. Satisfied, Soga nodded toward the van.
'Okay,' he said. 'Let's get it.' The man pulled open the door. Inside, they could see a human form wrapped in blankets. It was short and thick - a woman, Jumonji thought, frozen to the spot. It had never occurred to him they might be getting a woman's body.
'What's the matter?' the man sneered at him. 'This scare you?' He reached in and dragged the body out of the van. Soga's men came running over to help, but before they could get there, the man had dropped the body on the asphalt and slammed the door. Without another word, he got behind the wheel and backed down the road the way he'd come. The high whine of the engine in reverse filled the silence for a bit and then died away in the darkness. The whole transaction was over in a moment.
'That's one scary guy,' Jumonji said.
'What do you expect from a killer?' Soga laughed. Had he really killed her, Jumonji wondered, staring at the squat figure wrapped from head to toe in blankets and bound tight with rope.
'Why did he back away?'
'To keep us from seeing the licence plate and to make sure we didn't follow him,' Soga said. Jumonji began to tremble, finally realising that he might be in over his head. He should have known from the way he felt when he first saw the van.
Opening the paper bag, Soga extracted three of the bundles and shoved the rest at Jumonji.
'It's all yours,' he said, nodding toward the blond and the bodyguard who were struggling to fit the awkward bundle in Jumonji's trunk. Soga watched them at it for a moment, his face twisted in distaste.
'It looks like a woman,' Jumonji said.
'I was just thinking the same thing,' Soga said, turning to look at him. 'A high-school girl, maybe.' He wasn't smiling.
'Don't say that,' Jumonji murmured, feeling a chill come over him that was only partly due to the dawn air. The trunk closed with a bang, and the two men backed away, rubbing their hands and sniffing at them, as if what they'd just touched was unclean.
'We're off, then,' Soga said, patting Jumonji again on the shoulder. 'Good luck.'
Jumonji glanced at him with a panicked look. Soga's tongue flicked nervously over his lips.
'You're not chickening out, are you?' he said.
'No...,'Jumonj i whispered.
'Listen, Akira,' he said. 'This is serious business. Don't blow it.' The bodyguard had opened the door and was standing waiting. Soga signalled to him, and a few seconds later their car was speeding away, as if flee
ing the scene of a crime. Jumonji was left alone in the dark. Resisting the urge to simply turn and run, he climbed into his own car and switched on the engine. As he crept down the street, he realised almost immediately that he'd never been quite so frightened in his life, but it took him several minutes more to understand that it wasn't the body in the trunk that scared him so much as the man who had left it.
7
Masako was finally getting over her cold. For the first time in a week, she was feeling good. The face that stared back at her from the mirror looked a bit drawn, but the cheeks were tight and the eyes were rested and less swollen - not bad for someone about to do the job she had coming up.
Fortunately, Yoshiki had left for the office on schedule, and Nobuki had an early start. Since their exchange that night, Yoshiki seemed even more set on hiding himself away in his room; probably strengthening his defences, to keep from getting hurt now that he knew she might be leaving. It was like being separated while still living under the same roof, and it made Masako sad despite her best efforts to forget the whole situation. On the other hand, Nobuki had started to say a few words from time to time, and even if it was only to ask about dinner, it was encouraging.
She had removed the soap and shampoo bottles from the bathroom and spread the vinyl sheet over the tiles. She opened the window to release the damp air from last night's bath. The day promised to be an unseasonably warm one, but even her restored health and the good weather weren't enough to mask the anxiety she was feeling. How could she explain her worries to Jumonji and Yoshie, especially when they seemed so eager for the work? A mysterious stranger, lurking in the shadows? They'd laugh at her. In fact, she now had a shrewd idea of his identity. It had come to her as she lay in bed with her cold. But there was no proof, of course.
Closing and locking the window, she wandered out to the entrance hall. She felt impatient, but it wasn't expectation, it was fear that made her like this. And it wasn't the body itself but the next development, the next act in the play, she was dreading. She felt as though she were out of control, hurtling along with no idea where she was going, and it made her nervous - and scared.
Slipping into her son's huge beach sandals, she stepped down into the entrance. She couldn't go back and wait in the house, and she couldn't go out to meet Jumonji, so here she stood, stuck in between. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, trying to keep uneasiness at bay.
'Shit,' she hissed, hoping that swearing would help. It all seemed wrong. More than anything else, she hated being pushed along by circumstances before she had time to prepare herself which was probably exactly what this hidden opponent of theirs intended.
She knew that Jumonji's flashy car would be conspicuous parked in front of the house again, even for a few minutes, and she'd meant to use her Corolla this time. But there had been no time for that. They had been lucky before, but that didn't mean their luck would hold. It made her mad to think that she'd got herself involved in something so misguided; and she found she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they'd overlooked something, made some terrible mistake. As she hesitated in the doorway, her uneasiness began to swell like a balloon, threatening to explode at any moment. Finally, unable to keep still, she opened the door and went out.
The day was warm. The neighbourhood was quiet as always. A single strand of smoke rose lazily from a pile of leaves burning in the field across the way. The sound of a propeller could be heard in the distance, and nearby the soft clatter of someone washing dishes. An ordinary morning in the suburbs. Masako stared at the red earth of the vacant lot across the street. The woman who'd made such a fuss about wanting to buy it had disappeared. Everything was exactly as it always was - then why did it seem so ominous? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bicycle brakes.
'Morning,' Yoshie called. She had thrown on an old black windbreaker, probably one of Miki's, over her usual grey sweatsuit. Her eyes, red from lack of sleep, squinted in the morning light just as Masako's did when she'd been at work.
'Good morning, Skipper,' she said. 'Are you ready for this?'
'I think so,' Yoshie said, her expression more determined than usual. 'I'm the one who bugged you about it.'
'Let's get inside,' Masako said as Yoshie was parking her bike. She slipped in through the door and pulled off her shoes.
'How's your cold?' Yoshie said with a solicitous glance in her direction. She had been sick ever since the night she'd gone to Yoshie's house in the rain, and hadn't been to work.
'Much better,' said Masako.
'I'm glad. But this can't be the best thing for it, not with all that cold water.' They had realised last time that it was better to leave the water running while they cut up the body.
'Is everything okay at the factory?' Masako asked.
'I'd been meaning to tell you,' she said, her voice sinking to a whisper. 'Kuniko quit.'
'She did?'
'All of a sudden, three days ago. The boss tried to get her to change her mind, but you know how she is. She hasn't shown up since.' Yoshie stripped off her jacket and folded it into a neat bundle. Masako stared idly at the white flannel lining that was worn thin in places. 'And Yayoi doesn't come any more either. I've been all by myself since you came down with a cold. It gets a bit lonely there, so I've been jacking up the speed on the line to eighteen. You should see them scramble - and hear them gripe. Bunch of babies.'
'Sounds like fun,' Masako said.
'And that Brazilian guy asked about you last night.'
'Brazilian guy?'
'The young one; Miyamori -1 forget the other name.'
'What did he say?'
'He asked if you'd quit. I think he's got a thing for you.' Ignoring the teasing tone, Masako recalled the forlorn look on Kazuo's face as he stood staring after her that summer. It all seemed so long ago. Yoshie waited a moment for her to say something but then went on. 'I couldn't believe how much his Japanese has improved. I suppose you can do that when you're young.' Yoshie was unusually chatty this morning, presumably from nervous energy before the job. Masako let the words wash over her, like a sudden rain shower, waiting for a break in the flow to bring up her own worries. But just then they heard a car pull up outside.
'He's here!' Yoshie squealed, hopping up.
'Wait a second,' Masako said, putting her eye to the peephole and looking outside. Jumonji's car was backing up to the house, right on time. She opened the door a bit and peered out. He had already come around to the back of the car, his face wan and oily from a sleepless night.
'Katori-san,' he whispered through the door, 'I'm afraid you're not going to like this one.'
'Why?' she said.
'It's a woman,' he murmured. Masako flinched. The job was horrible enough, but it seemed even more gruesome to work on a woman's body. Jumonj i glanced around and then quickly unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid. At the sight of the cocoonlike bundle, Masako backed away. The old man had been small, too, but he was thin, almost fleshless. This time the body was hefty, with a generous swelling at the chest.
'What's wrong?' Yoshie said. Peeking around her, she let out a little gasp. Kenji and the other body had also come wrapped in blankets, but there was something more sinister about the careful way this one had been tied around and around with rope.
'Let's get it inside,' Jumonji said, averting his eyes as he reached into the trunk. Masako went to help, grabbing one end of the limp, heavy form, and together they managed to get it back to the bathroom. 'This one really bothers me,' Jumonji said. 'The guy who brought it scared me to death.'
'Why?' Masako said.
'You could just tell he killed her.'
'How could you?' Yoshie said, holding her hand over her heart to stop the pounding. 'He was probably just delivering it.'
'I know it sounds weird, but you could just tell!' His eyes were bloodshot and he was half shouting. Masako said nothing, but it struck her that he was probably right. It had been the same with Yayoi that night: something about her mad
e it obvious what she'd done.
'You're the man,' Yoshie said, holding out a pair of scissors. 'You unwrap it.'
'Me?' Jumonji said.
'I don't see any other men around,' she said, throwing the word 'men' at him like an insult. 'Show some initiative!' Gingerly picking up the scissors, he bent over and cut away the ropes. Then he gripped the edge of the blanket and pulled on it. Two thick white legs flopped out, with traces of purple bruising on the back of them. Yoshie screamed and hid behind Masako. Next came a fleshy torso, apparently unmarked, with one heavy breast falling away to either side. The woman was fat, but still in the prime of life. The naked body lay exposed before them, but the head was still shrouded in the blanket, as if reluctant to give up its secret. As Masako reached down to help Jumonji finish the job, her hand suddenly froze. The head was covered with a black plastic bag that had been secured around the neck with another rope. 'This is awful,' Yoshie muttered, backing into the dressing area. Jumonji looked as though he might be sick.
'You don't think they've cut off the face?' he said. 'I couldn't take that.'
'Wait a minute,' Masako said, struck by a sudden premonition. She took the scissors from him and cut away the bag with a few quick snips. 'I thought so,' she said. 'It's Kuniko.'
There she lay, her eyes half open, her tongue hanging out stupidly, and her shifty eyes and greedy mouth gone slack. The bathroom, which had simply been a convenient place to cut up unknown bodies, seemed suddenly transformed into a funeral hall now that it was filled with this familiar shape. Jumonji stood frozen over it as Yoshie sobbed in the background.
'What did that man look like?' Masako said, her voice urgent. 'Who was he?'
'I didn't get a good look at him,' Jumonji said, sounding exhausted. 'He was tall and he looked pretty tough. He had a deep voice '
'Like half the men in the city,' Masako said, her exasperation showing.
'How should I know what he looked like?' he whined, turning away. Yoshie had sunk down in the dressing area and was crying quietly. Masako could hear her mumbling to herself.
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