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CHAPTER 7
Ushikawa
I’M HEADING YOUR WAY
For a while Ushikawa had to give up collecting more information on the elderly
dowager in Azabu. The security around her was just too tight, and he knew he would
come smack up against a high wall whatever direction he went in. He wanted to find
out more about the safe house, but it was too risky hanging out in the neighborhood
any longer. There were security cameras, and given his looks, Ushikawa was too
conspicuous. Once the other party was on its guard, things could get a bit sticky, so he
decided to stay away from the Willow House and try a different approach.
The only different approach he could come up with, though, was to reinvestigate
Aomame. He had already asked a PI firm he had worked with to collect more
information on her, and he did some of the legwork himself, questioning people
involved with her. Nothing suspicious or opaque surfaced. Ushikawa frowned,
sighing deeply.
I must have overlooked something
, he thought.
Something critical
.
Ushikawa took out an address book from a drawer of his desk and dialed a number.
Whenever he needed information that could only be obtained illegally, this was the
number he called. The man on the other end lived in a much darker world than
Ushikawa. As long as you paid, he could dig up almost any information you needed.
The more tightly guarded the information, the higher the fee.
Ushikawa was after two pieces of information. One was personal background on
Aomame’s parents, who were still devout members of the Witnesses. Ushikawa was
positive that the Witnesses had a central database with information on all their
members. They had numerous followers throughout Japan, with much coming and
going between the headquarters and the regional branches. Without a centralized
database, the system wouldn’t run smoothly. Their headquarters was located in the
suburbs of Odawara. They owned a magnificent building on a generous plot of land,
and had their own factory to print pamphlets, and an auditorium and guest facilities
for followers from all over the country. All their information was sourced from this
location, and you could be sure it was under strict control.
The second piece of information was Aomame’s employment record at the sports
club. Ushikawa wanted to know the details of her job there, and the names of her
personal clients. This kind of information wouldn’t be as closely guarded. Not that
you could waltz in, say, “I wonder if you would mind showing me Miss Aomame’s
file, please?,” and have them gladly hand it over.
578
Ushikawa left his name and phone number on the machine. Thirty minutes later he
got a call back.
“Mr. Ushikawa,” a hoarse voice said.
Ushikawa related the particulars of what he was looking for. He had never actually
met the man. They always did business by phone, with materials sent over by special
delivery. The man’s voice was a bit husky, and he occasionally cleared his throat. He
might have had something wrong with it. There was always a perfect silence on the
other end of the line, as if he were phoning from a soundproof room. All Ushikawa
could hear was the man’s voice, and the grating sound of his breathing. Beyond that,
nothing. The sounds he heard were all a bit exaggerated.
What a creepy guy
,
Ushikawa thought each time.
The world is sure full of creepy guys
, he mused,
knowing full well that, objectively speaking, this category would include himself. He
had secretly nicknamed the man Bat.
“In both cases, then, you’re after information concerning the name Aomame,
right?” Bat said huskily, and cleared his throat.
“Correct. It’s an unusual name.”
“You want every bit of information I can get?”
“As long as it involves the name Aomame, I want it all. If possible, I would also
like a photo of her, with a clear shot of her face.”
“The gym should be easy. They aren’t expecting anyone to steal their information.
The Witnesses, though, are a different story. They’re a huge organization, with a lot
of money, and tight security. Religious organizations are some of the hardest groups
to crack. They keep things tight to protect their members’ personal security, and there
are always tax issues involved.”
“Do you think you can do it?”
“There are ways to pry open the door. What is more difficult is making sure you
close it afterward. If you don’t do that, you’ll have a homing missile chasing you.”
“You make it sound like a war.”
“That’s exactly what it is. Some pretty scary things might pop out,” the man
rasped. Ushikawa could tell from his tone of voice that this battle was something he
enjoyed.
“So, you’ll take it on for me?”
The man lightly cleared his throat. “All right. But it’ll cost you.”
“How much are we talking about, roughly?”
The man gave him an estimate. Ushikawa had to swallow before he accepted. He
had put aside enough of his own funds to cover it, and if the man came through, he
could get reimbursed later on.
“How long will it take?”
“I assume this is a rush job?”
“Correct.”
“It’s hard to give an exact estimate, but I’m thinking a week to ten days.”
“Fine,” Ushikawa said. He would have to let Bat determine the pace.
“When I’ve gathered the material, I’ll call you. I’ll definitely get in touch before
ten days are up.”
“Unless a missile catches up with you,” Ushikawa said.
“Exactly,” Bat said, totally blasé.
579
After he hung up, Ushikawa hunched over his desk, turning things over in his mind.
He had no idea how Bat would gather the information via some
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