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another world
. You know, of course, that he is in the habit of
raping preteen girls, none of whom have had their first period. He makes up ‘doctrine’
and exploits the religion’s system to justify such actions. I have had this researched in
as much detail as possible and paid quite a bit of money for the information. It wasn’t
easy. The cost far exceeded my expectations, but we succeeded in identifying four
girls he is likely to have raped. Tsubasa was the fourth.”
Aomame lifted her glass and took a sip of iced tea, tasting nothing, as if her mouth
were stuffed with cotton that absorbed all flavor.
280
“We still don’t know all the details, but at least two of the girls are still living in
the religion’s compound,” the dowager said. “We’re told they serve Leader as his own
personal shrine maidens. They never appear before the ordinary believers. We don’t
know if they stay there of their own free will or are simply unable to run away. We
also don’t know if there is still a sexual relationship between them and Leader. In any
case, they all live in the same place, like a family. The area of Leader’s residence is
strictly off-limits to ordinary believers. Many things are still shrouded in mystery”
The cut-glass tumbler was beginning to sweat on the tabletop. The dowager paused
to catch her breath and then continued.
“We do know one thing for certain. The first of the four victims is Leader’s own
daughter.”
Aomame frowned. Her facial muscles began to move involuntarily, becoming
greatly distorted. She wanted to say something, but her voice would not form the
words.
“It’s true,” the dowager said. “They think that the first girl he violated was his own
daughter. It happened seven years ago, when she was ten.”
The dowager lifted the intercom and told Tamaru to bring them a bottle of sherry and
two glasses. They fell silent while they waited for him, each woman putting her
thoughts in order. Tamaru came in, carrying a tray with a new bottle of sherry and
two slim, elegant crystal glasses. After lining up everything on the table, he twisted
open the bottle with a sharp, precise movement, as if wringing a chicken’s neck. The
sherry gurgled as he poured it. The dowager nodded, and Tamaru bowed and left the
room, saying nothing, as usual. Not even his steps made a sound.
The dog is not the only thing that’s bothering him
, Aomame thought.
The girl’s
disappearance is another deep wound for him. She was so important to the dowager,
and yet she vanished before his very eyes!
Strictly speaking, the girl was not his
responsibility. He was not a live-in bodyguard; he slept in his own home at night, a
ten-minute walk away, unless some special task kept him at the dowager’s. Both the
dog’s death and the girl’s disappearance had happened at night, when he was absent.
He could have prevented neither. His job was to protect the dowager and her Willow
House. His duties did not extend to security for the safe house, which lay outside the
compound. Even so, the events were a personal defeat for Tamaru, an unforgivable
slight.
“Are you prepared to take care of that man?” the dowager asked Aomame.
“Fully prepared,” Aomame assured her.
“It’s not going to be easy,” the dowager said. “Of course, none of the work I ask
you to do is easy. But this is especially difficult. We’ll do everything we can to set it
up, but I’m not sure of the extent to which we can guarantee your safety. It will
probably involve a greater risk than usual.”
“I understand.”
“As I have told you before, I would rather not send you into dangerous situations,
but to be honest, our choices are limited this time.”
“I don’t mind,” Aomame said. “We can’t leave that man alive in this world.”
281
The dowager lifted her glass and let some of her sherry glide over her tongue. Then
she watched the goldfish again for a while.
“I’ve always enjoyed sherry at room temperature on a summer afternoon. I’m not
fond of cold drinks on hot days. I’ll take a drink of sherry and, a little later, lie down
for a nap, and fall asleep before I know it. When I wake up, some of the day’s heat is
gone. I hope I can die that way—drink a little sherry on a summer afternoon, stretch
out on a sofa, drop off to sleep, and never wake up.”
Aomame also lifted her sherry glass and took a small sip. She was not fond of
sherry, but she definitely needed a drink. This time the taste got through to her, unlike
the iced tea. The alcohol stabbed at her tongue.
“I want you to tell me the truth,” the dowager said. “Are you afraid to die?”
Aomame needed no time at all to answer. Shaking her head, she said, “Not
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