661
Two highballs in tall glasses were brought over to their table.
“Well, first of all,” Komatsu began after
a long silence, “I think that as much as
possible we need to unravel some things about the situation that we’ve gotten
entangled in. After all, we’re all in the same boat. By
we
I mean the four of us—you,
me, Fuka-Eri, and Professor Ebisuno.”
“A very interesting group,” Tengo said, but his sarcasm didn’t seem to register
with Komatsu.
Komatsu went on. “I think each of the four of us had his own expectation
regarding this plan, and we’re not all on the same level, or moving in the same
direction.
To put it another way, we weren’t all rowing our oars at the same rhythm
and at the same angle.”
“This isn’t the sort of group you would expect to be able to work well together.”
“That might be true.”
“And our boat was headed down the rapids toward a waterfall.”
“Our boat was indeed headed down the rapids toward a waterfall,” Komatsu
admitted. “I’m not trying to make excuses, but from the start this was an extremely
simple plan. We fool everybody, we make a bit of money. Half for laughs, half for
profit. That was our goal. But ever since Professor Ebisuno got involved, the plot has
thickened. A number of complicated subplots lie just below
the surface of the water,
and the water is picking up speed. Your reworking of the novel far exceeded my
expectations, thanks to which the book got great reviews and had amazing sales. And
then this took our boat off to an unexpected place—a somewhat perilous place.”
Tengo shook his head slightly. “It’s not a somewhat perilous place. It’s an
extremely dangerous place.
”
“You could be right.”
“Don’t act like this doesn’t concern you. You’re the one who came up with this
idea in the first place.”
“Granted. I’m the one who had the idea and pushed the start button. Things went
well at first, but unfortunately as it progressed I lost control. I do feel responsible for
it, believe me. Especially about getting you involved, since I basically forced you into
it. But it’s time for us to stop, take
stock of where we are, and come up with a plan of
action.”
After getting all this out, Komatsu took a breath and drank his highball. He picked
up the glass ashtray and, like a blind man feeling an object all over to understand what
it is, carefully ran his long fingers over the surface.
“To tell you the truth,” he finally said, “I was imprisoned for seventeen or eighteen
days somewhere. From the end of August to the middle of September. The day it
happened I was in my neighborhood, in the early afternoon, on my way to work. I was
on the road to the Gotokuji Station. This large black car stopped beside me and the
window slid down and someone called my name. I went over,
wondering who it could
be, when two men leapt out of the car and dragged me inside. Both of them were
extremely powerful. One pinned my arms back, and the other put chloroform or
something up to my nose. Just like in a movie, huh? But that stuff really does the
trick, believe me. When I came to, I was being held in a tiny, windowless room. The
walls were white, and it was like a cube. There was a small bed and a small wooden
desk, but no chair. I was lying on the bed.”
662
“You were kidnapped?” Tengo asked.
Komatsu finished his inspection of the ashtray,
returned it to the table, and looked
up at Tengo. “That’s right. A real kidnapping. Like in that old movie,
The Collector
. I
don’t imagine most people in the world ever think they will end up kidnapped. The
idea never occurs to them. Right? But when they kidnap you, believe me, you’re
kidnapped. It’s kind of—how shall I put it?—surreal. You can’t believe you are
actually
being kidnapped by someone. Could you believe it?”
Komatsu stared at Tengo, as if looking for a reply. But it was a rhetorical question.
Tengo was silent, waiting for him to continue. He hadn’t touched his highball. Beads
of moisture had formed on the outside, wetting the coaster.