Масахико Симада - Death by Choice

In order to limit Kita’s movements, Yashiro cancelled his cash card and credit card. Meanwhile, the studio boss planned to use the abduction to give Yoimachi all the publicity he could. He also used his connections with the Finance Minister who’d paid for use of Shinobu, and thereby managed to get onto the bank’s online records and find out where he’d been trying to withdraw money. Then he set about controlling things by hastily selling the story of the abduction to the media, arranging to provide them with video footage and photographs from her debut as a star until now, and even gathered comments from family and friends.

Impelled not so much by the half a million yen reward as by an inextricable combination of Yashiro, who was intent on making a profit from Kita’s death, and the studio boss, who was intent on wringing money out of Shinobu’s abduction, the killer found himself to his own bewilderment mingling with the passengers on the northbound bullet train. At his feet lay a Boston bag containing the seven essential tools of his trade. Kita and Shinobu were apparently headed for Niigata. He knew that Kita had tried to withdraw money from a regional bank in a hot springs town in Gunma, and that he was hoping to escape somewhere and cover his tracks. The killer put in a telephone call to the station nearest the bank, and asked if anyone had seen Yoimachi Shinobu. Yes, one of the young station employees at Jomo Kogen had seen the nationally famous star apparently as happy as could be. Few people passed through the station, so the fellow’s memory would be reliable. Apparently the man with her had on a backpack, and was humming some unfamiliar tune. The two had taken the northbound bullet train.

Kita and Shinobu arrived at Niigata Station at two in the afternoon. After buying a change of clothes and a pair of sunglasses for Shinobu in the shopping mall of the station building, and some stomach and eye medicine for himself, Kita had only thirty thousand yen left in his wallet. Once they’d run through it, that would be that. But since all was due to be over on Friday anyway, things were going to plan. There was nothing to be scared of.

Shinobu emerged from the changing room in a shiny dress printed with tiny carnations, and crossed her white ankles in a pretty pose for him. “How do I look?” The faint brown birthmark on the outside of her left calf was clearly visible. Kita had discovered it the night before, and felt it added something new to Shinobu’s list of charms. This short black dress with its carnation print would be more photogenic than the torn jeans and shirt that revealed her belly button, he thought. He had Shinobu promise to reveal to the media that her abductor had bought her this dress. Shinobu said the round yellow sunglasses were to hide her tears.

At three, they boarded the bus for Niigata Port. Shinobu had declared she wanted to look at the sea.

Kita had been on the same bus two years earlier, but the ride felt quite different this time. Back then he’d been a travelling salesman in the health field, intent on cultivating his outlets, an expression on his face that was quite unrelated to his feelings and the same words constantly in his mouth. Sure, that had been one way of sustaining life, but he hadn’t felt there was much life in him to sustain. The company had a motto to the effect that an employee who was selling health had to be healthy himself, but in fact Kita was a burned out wreck at the end of every day. That had been back when health products actually sold. Egg oil, turtle extract, royal jelly, chlorophyll juice, immune system boosters, multivitamins, slimming oils, seaweed soap – this all-purpose health product company had handled them all. Health was no exception to the rules of season and fashion. The company employees were the monitors of early signs of trends; they anticipated what was going to be next, and went around promoting its health benefits to the public.

Two years ago, Kita had been in Niigata Port trying to sell turtle extract and multi-vitamins to the fishermen and crew of a Russian boat, but they weren’t having any of it. As long as they lived on the sea, they were plenty healthy enough, they told him. So Kita gave up selling health, with the result that his spirits markedly improved, and he regained his own health.

They arrived at the bus terminal. The sunlight bouncing off the white concrete was dazzling. They set off along the quayside, a warm salty breeze playing on their cheeks. Soon it would be time for Kita to telephone the television station again and make his announcement. They went into the ferry terminus, and located a public telephone. The ferry wouldn’t be in for quite a while, and there were only a couple of people in the waiting room. The ticket office was closed.

“I’d love to go there,” Shinobu said, pointing to a poster for Sado Island, but it seemed to Kita that they shouldn’t try an island. There’d be nowhere to go if they were cornered. He shook his head.

“I want to be on a boat,” Shinobu said in response. “Even a fishing boat’s OK.”

“I guess we won’t get a good night’s sleep tonight even if we’re on land,” he said.

“So let’s run away to sea.”

“Would there be a boat that would take us on board? I mean, you’re a star and I’m a kidnapper. We’d have to make sure it all went according to plan.”

Kita winked at Shinobu, picked up the receiver, and dialled the number of the television station. “I’m Shinobu Yoimachi’s abductor,” he said. “Put me onto the head of the news section.”

“S-s-s-sure, one moment,” mumbled the receptionist. Please hold, someone will be with you shortly, a recorded female voice repeated, before being replaced by a resonant baritone.

“Hullo, this is Yamanouchi from the SM television News Section. We received your message. You’re with Shinobu Yoimachi now, right?”

“Correct.”

“Why did you kidnap her?”

“I want to help children suffering from serious illnesses.”

“You say you’ve demanded that the thirty million in ransom money be donated to the International Red Cross, right?”

“That’s right. I have a few other demands as well, actually. Here goes, OK? Get rid of the American military bases in Okinawa, and scrap the Japan–U.S. Security Treaty. Resignation of all Cabinet members. An end to the death penalty. A mandatory retirement system for all members of the National Diet. A ban on those “golden parachutes” for retired government officials in private sector employment. Support Tibetan independence. And drop those stupid variety programs and gossip shows on TV.” Kita was reeling the list off the top of his head as he went on. His idea was to estimate Shinobu’s life at the highest possible value, though the effect was a little like praying at one of those shrines that offer lots of benefits for a mere coin or two at the altar.

You could hear the wry smile behind the voice as Yamanouchi replied, “These are demands to the Japanese government, are they? I have to tell you there’s no one in this country who could possibly fulfil them. What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not expecting them to be fulfilled. But I want you to at least report the kidnapper’s demands verbatim to your listeners. If you don’t want to see her killed, you must report them all fully. All will be revealed on Friday. Shinobu will tell you herself, if she’s still alive then. I want you guys in the news media to put pressure on her studio manager to pay up that thirty million to the Red Cross. And while you’re at it, you must give a lesson to all those useless politicians. You’ll not only be saving Shinobu Yoimachi, but for once in your life you’ll be doing something for the sake of the world. This abduction is my own way of calling for justice. What I’m hoping is that it will set off a wave of Justice Terrorism. I want people to come clean about the secrets of the business or office they work in, and make a clean breast of all their nefarious doings. Terrorists of conscience throughout the nation, now is your hour! Here ends the declaration of Shinobu Yoimachi’s abductor.”