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“It’s no trouble at all,” the dowager said. “This is the most important thing for a
woman. Let’s wait for the test results, and then decide what we’ll do. Just relax.”
And she quietly hung up.
Someone knocked at the door. Aomame was in the bedroom doing yoga, and she
stopped and listened carefully. The knock was hard and insistent.
She remembered
that sound.
She took the automatic pistol from the drawer and switched off the safety. She
pulled back the slide to send a round into the chamber. She stuck the pistol in the back
of her sweatpants and softly padded out to the dining room. She gripped the softball
bat in both hands and stared at the door.
“
Miss Takai,” a thick, hoarse voice called out. “Are you there, Miss Takai? NHK
here, come to collect the subscription fee.”
Plastic tape was wrapped around the handle of the bat so it wouldn’t slip.
“Miss Takai, to repeat myself, I know you’re in there. So please stop playing this
silly game of hide-and-seek. You’re inside, and you’re listening to my voice.”
The man was saying almost exactly the same things he had said the previous time,
like a tape being replayed.
“I told you I would be back, but you probably thought that was just an empty
threat. You should know that I always keep my promises. And if there are fees to
collect, I most definitely will collect them. You’re in there, Miss Takai, and you’re
listening. And you’re thinking this: If I just stay patient, the collector will give up and
go away.”
He knocked on the door again for some time. Twenty, maybe twenty-five times.
What sort of hands does this man have?
Aomame wondered.
And why doesn’t he use
the doorbell?
“And I know you’re thinking this, too,” the fee collector said, as if reading her
mind. “You are thinking that this man must have pretty tough hands. And that his
hands must hurt, pounding on the door like this so many times. And there is another
thing you are thinking: Why in the world is he knocking, anyway? There’s a doorbell,
so why not ring that?”
Aomame grimaced.
The fee collector continued. “No, I don’t want to ring the bell. If I do,
all you hear
is the bell ringing, that’s all. No matter who pushes the bell, it makes the same
harmless little sound. Now, a knock—
that
has personality. You use your physical
body to knock on something and there’s a flesh-and-blood emotion behind it. Of
course my hand does hurt. I’m not Superman, after all. But it can’t be helped. This is
my profession. And every profession, no matter high or low, deserves respect. Don’t
you agree, Miss Takai?”
Knocks pounded on the door again. Twenty-seven in all, powerful knocks with a
fixed pause between each one. Aomame’s hands grew sweaty as they gripped the bat.
“Miss Takai, people who receive the NHK TV signal have to pay the fee—it’s the
law. There are no two ways about it. It is a rule we have to follow. So why don’t you
just cheerfully pay the fee? I’m not pounding on your door because I want to, and I
know you don’t want this unpleasantness to go on forever. You must be thinking,
594
Why do I have to go through this? So just cheerfully pay up. Then you can go back to
your quiet life again.”
The man’s voice echoed loudly down the hallway.
This man is enjoying the sound
of his own voice
, Aomame thought.
He’s getting a kick out of insulting people,
making fun of them and abusing them
. She could sense the perverse pleasure he was
getting from this.
“You’re quite the stubborn lady, aren’t you, Miss Takai. I’m impressed. You’re
like a shellfish at the bottom of a deep ocean, maintaining a strict silence. But I know
you’re in there. You’re there, glaring at me through the door. The tension is making
your underarms sweat. Do I have that right?”
Thirteen more knocks. Then he stopped. Aomame realized she was, indeed,
sweating under her arms.
“All right. That’s enough for today. But I’ll be back soon. I’m starting
to grow
fond of this door. There are lots of doors in the world, and this one is not bad at all. It
is definitely a door worth knocking on. At this rate I won’t be able to relax unless I
drop by here regularly to give it a few good knocks. Good-bye, Miss Takai. I’ll be
back.”
Silence reigned. The fee collector had apparently left for good, but she hadn’t
heard any footsteps. Maybe he was pretending to have left and was waiting outside
the door. Aomame gripped the bat even tighter and waited a couple of minutes.
“I’m still here,” the fee collector suddenly announced. “Ha! You thought I left,
didn’t you? But I’m still here. I lied. Sorry about that, Miss Takai. That’s the sort of
person I am.”
She heard him cough. An intentionally grating cough.
“I’ve been at this job for a long time. And over the years I’ve become able to
picture the people on the other side of the door. This is the truth. Quite a few people
hide behind their door and try to get away with not paying the NHK fee. I’ve been
dealing with them for decades. Listen, Miss Takai.”
He knocked three times, louder than he ever had.
“Listen, Miss Takai. You’re very clever at hiding, like a flounder on the sea floor
covered in sand.
Mimicry
, they call it. But in the end you won’t be able to escape.
Someone will come and open this door. You can count on it.
As a veteran NHK fee
collector, I guarantee it. You can hide as cleverly as you like, but in the final analysis
mimicry is deception, pure and simple. It doesn’t solve a thing. It’s true, Miss Takai.
I’ll be on my way soon. Don’t worry, this time for real. But I’ll be back soon. When
you hear a knock, you’ll know it’s me. Well, see you, Miss Takai. Take care!”
She couldn’t hear any footsteps this time, either. She waited five minutes, then
went up to the door and listened carefully. She squinted through the peephole. No one
was outside. This time the fee collector really had left, it seemed.
Aomame leaned the metal bat up against the kitchen counter. She slid the round
out of the pistol’s chamber, set the safety, wrapped it back up
in a pair of thick tights,
and returned it to the drawer. She lay down on the sofa and closed her eyes. The
man’s voice still rang in her ears.
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