Rules of the Hunt (42 page)
Sunday, thought Kitano, is a good day for a killing.
Police manpower is lighter.
Traffic is less.
The streets are less crowded.
Escape is easier.
On the day Fitzduane checked in, he would be
permanently checked out.
The security
chief smiled at his little joke and made some calls and called in some
favors.
Unfortunately, the active
members of Yaibo were all out of the country.
However,
a minor
yakuza
gang, the
Insuji-gumi
, were
deeply in his debt.
An
oyaban
— boss — and five
kobuns
would attend to the matter.
They would use swords.
There would be no question of their
victim's being
wounded.
He would be chopped to pieces.
*
*
*
*
*
June 7
Fitzduane spent Saturday sight-seeing in
times by two armed policemen.
He found the attention restricting, but was modestly cheered that the
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department wanted their bait — as Chifune had so
charmingly put it — alive.
approaching two hundred thousand — bordered on three sides by mountains and on
the fourth by the sea.
Land access was
only through a series of passes.
Its
defensibility had made it the capital of
earlier.
The
bakufu
— military government headed by the
shogun
— had been based
there before moving to Edo, now Tokyo, at the beginning of the seventeenth
century.
Fitzduane found
It was heavily
wooded, and boasted no fewer than sixty-five Buddhist temples and nineteen
Shinto shrines.
Strolling through the
pine trees, looking at artifacts and architecture that had been there for
centuries, he felt he was getting some small flavor of old Japan.
The sense of the pursuit of excellence and
the integration of the physical with the spiritual was everywhere evident in
the temples and shrines.
He greatly
enjoyed the Buddhas.
He could not see
one without being reminded of Boots as a chubby baby.
Talk of the history of
been on his mind for some time.
"Yoshokawa-
san
," he
said, "I have not asked this directly before because I have been searching
for the right moment, but do you have a direct interest in this Namaka
matter?
I know you feel compelled to
help me because I was fortunate enough to be able to assist your son, but I
sense there is something else.
You seem
more than just a helpful friend."
They were looking at the Great Buddha, a vast hollow bronze construction
that towered over the temple and dwarfed human visitors.
Erected the best part of a
millennium earlier, it suggested considerable engineering talent.
The current Japanese success in world markets
had been many centuries in preparation, Fitzduane reflected.
Yoshokawa was silent for such a long time that Fitzduane was momentarily
concerned that his question had caused offense.
He knew that directness was not generally appreciated in
However, he had gauged his moment carefully
and the issues were serious.
Time was
running out.
He needed answers
quickly.
He thought of the terrible
moment when the back of Boots's head had appeared to open up in a crimson gash,
and he thought of Christian de Guevain slaughtered like an animal.
He felt a deep sadness and a cold anger.
He had an obligation to destroy these people
who threatened his life and the lives of those he cared about.
It was a responsibility, a
giri
, as the Japanese might
say,
to do what had to be done.
It was then the Yoshokawa told him about the Gamma Society, about the
group who were dedicated to reforming Japanese society ad driving out
corruption, and some of the elements in the puzzle began to slip into place.
"Is Enoke-
san
, our friend
the Deputy Superintendent-General, a member?" asked Fitzduane.
Yoshokawa nodded.
"And so who suggested I come to
Yoshokawa looked embarrassed.
Fitzduane smiled.
"Yoshokawa-
san
," he said, "
from
where I stand now, you did the right thing.
OF course, if I am killed, I'll change my
mind."
Yoshokawa smiled.
"I hope
so," he said.
"It was a
decision not made lightly, but I know what you did before, and in some matters
we need help.
We cannot always do things
the Japanese way.
We must join the
world."
"Internationalization," said Fitzduane.
Yoshokawa laughs.
"Fitzduane-
san
," he said.
"You are learning.
14
June 8
Fitzduane was glad that his first real contact with
As Yoshokawa's car drove into the vast sprawl of
the seemingly endless vista of unlovely concrete-and-steel boxes, overhead
cables snaking everywhere, and incessant neon.
Most of the buildings gave the impression of having been roughed out on
the back of an envelope and built in a hurry.
Functionality alone seemed to have been the guideline, and frequently
not even that.
Many of the buildings
were just plain shoddy.
Except for occasional touches — a roof upturned at its corners, the rich
blue of a tile, a roadside shrine — there was almost no trace of the
aesthetically satisfying blend of form and function which had been so evident
in the temples of
The visual sense of the Japanese seemed to
have atrophied over the centuries, or perhaps had been one of the casualties of
the war.
However, it was not entirely
dead, Fitzduane mused.
The slick design
of so much of Japanese electronic gadgetry was proof of that.
Personally, Fitzduane thought it was a poor
exchange.
Yoshokawa read his expression.
"Fitzduane-
san
," he
said, "don't read too much into what you see.
The ugliness of so much of the buildings is
superficial.
their energy.
As to buildings, remember
that the city was practically destroyed in the 1923 earthquake and no sooner
rebuilt than it was virtually flattened by American bombers in the war.
And we are due another earthquake!
In this context, perhaps buildings are not so
important."
He smiled.
Fitzduane laughed out loud.
"And for this kind of security, I hear you have the highest land
and property prices in the world."
"This is true," said Yoshokawa.
"Land is sacred to the Japanese because we are brought up to think
we have so little of it.
Also, property
is used as security for so many financial transactions.
Accordingly, our land prices have become
insane.
Based upon current paper value,
merely by selling off
theoretically buy all of
Just by selling the grounds of the
"The Namakas made much of their money through property, I
gather," said Fitzduane.
"What was a worthless bomb site after the war was worth many
millions or even billions of yen a generation later," replied Yoshokawa.
"The Namakas specialized in persuading
people to sell.
An unwilling owner might
find his child missing for a couple of days or have a car accident or simply
vanish.
It was all done with great
subtlety.
On several major projects,
their opposition was conveniently attacked by right-wing terrorists — Yaibo —
and there was no direct link at all.
But
conveniently, the Namakas benefitted."
"And Hodama?" said Fitzduane.
"Identified projects, made connections, and above all, provided
political protection," said Yoshokawa, "but always secretly."
As they drove through what Yoshokawa assured him was metropolitan
frequent patches of what looked like agricultural land.
Some were in rice paddies.
Others were planted with fruit or vegetables.
"Given the scarcity of land for
building," he said, "what are farms doing in the center of the
city?"
Yoshokawa was amused.
"More
than five percent of
"The high price of land is not due merely
to market forces.
It is partially
artificial.
There are vested interests
who want land prices driven up, even if it means the average
sarariman
can no longer afford to buy a
house in the city and has to commute for three hours every day.
There is a substantial political element in
the land equation."
Fitzduane was silent.
Most
Japanese probably worked their guts out to achieve some extraordinary economic
results, but much of the wealth which should accrue to the individual as a
result was being siphoned off.
He closed
his eyes.
He could almost see the web of
politicians and organized crime feeding off the nation.
It was a situation far from unique to
scale of it in that country was frightening.
And those who had access to such wealth and power would not give it up
lightly.
He realized that the Namakas were not acting
just on
their own
.
They were part of a
corrupt but extremely powerful structure — and most of it was invisible.
Tatemae
and
honne
, the
public image and the private reality.
Chifune had explained it to him on the plane.
"Loosely expressed," said Chifune,
"
tatemae
is the public façade,
the official position or party line.
Honne
, which literally means ‘honest
voice,’ is the private reality.
Tatemae
and
honne
work together.
Too
much
honne
would create friction and
could destroy the harmony of the group.
Tatemae
is the polite friction which
smoothes the way.
In
truth is likely to be hurtful or destructive,
tatemae
will always be preferred.
It is often thought by Westerners that
tatemae
is hypocrisy or dishonesty.
It really is not.
It is a social
convention understood by all Japanese.
It is a problem only for
gaijin
.
So who and what was he really up against?
Whom could he really trust?
"Yoshokawa-
san
," he
said, "do you really think Gamma can make a difference, or are the forces
against you just too entrenched?"
Yoshokawa looked across and smiled somewhat wearily.
"I have to believe we can," he
said, "with a little help."
*
*
*
*
*
They approached the very center of