Hidden Nexus (34 page)

‘Just me and the other two security officers. We work round the clock.’

‘And you never leave this room.’

‘Not usually – except to go to the toilet and to lock the main doors.’

‘And how easy is it to tamper with the recordings?’

‘Quite easy I’d imagine,’ intervened Sergeant Mori. ‘You’d only need access to simple editing software – and the sticks of course.’

Saito considered what he now knew. It was quite obvious that a cover up was in operation. He thanked Inoue, indicating that he might want to have words with his other colleagues and then indicated to Sergeant Mori that they were leaving.

Tuesday 4
^th
January 3:05am

Hiro Watanabe emerged from chairing a special meeting of the select committee for Trade and Industry satisfied that the affairs of the committee were well in order. It was a brief respite away from all his other concerns – concerns which were about to deepen.

His mobile phone rang loudly from within his breast pocket and it was with a flourish of self-importance that he ushered his colleagues away and pressed the button to take the call.

‘
Moshi Moshi
.’

‘Watanabe san?’

‘Yes. What is it?’

‘It's Mitsui.'

'And?'

'The police have been to head-quarters-'

‘Oh really?' interrupted Watanabe attempting to sound calm and unconcerned but in reality suddenly thinking fast and hoping against hope that a casual enquiry was all the police were interested in. 'I wonder why that should be?’ he added, again feigning disinterest.

'They questioned Miyazaki san.’

‘Questioned?’

‘Routine they said. They were interested in who called on you last Thursday evening but they only spoke to Miyazaki san.’

‘Just her – not you? They didn’t question you?’

‘No, just her, and they were interested in CCTV footage of the foyer, apparently.’

Watanabe felt a sickening dead weight drop heavily into the pit of his stomach. He was stunned into silence and for a few moments his mind went completely numb. ‘And what is this all in connection with?’

‘Miyazaki san wasn’t sure. She’s understandably upset about the whole matter. I couldn’t get much sense out of her. I’ve relayed to you the important parts.’

Watanabe could feel his heart beating faster, but once again did all he could to remain calm. He was thinking now about the wider reputation of the Faction. ‘They weren’t interested in anything else – just last Thursday and the CCTV.’

‘Quite sure,’ said Mitsui. ‘Look! We’ve called an extra-ordinary meeting – You’re to attend.’

Watanabe didn’t like the tone of Mitsui’s voice. It was if, he, Watanabe was being summoned. None-the-less he complied and hurried out of the Diet buildings and into a waiting limousine.

*

Twenty minutes later Watanabe entered the central meeting room of his faction head-quarters.

‘What’s all this about? What is this need for a formal meeting?’ he demanded to the members who were already sitting around the table.

Mitsui answered for the group. ‘Take a seat Watanabe san, please.’ He indicated to Watanabe’s usual place at the head of the table. Watanabe sat down circumspectly. Things were not as they usually were. For one thing as a rule he never followed when ordered. He looked around the rest of the group, who looked grimly back at him.

‘Where’s Ito san?’ he asked stalling for time.

‘Never mind about her – anyway she’s ill remember… Chicken pox. Look, Watanabe san there are important things that we need to discuss.’

‘Things? What things?’

‘Kinjo for a start-’

‘Kinjo! Well, yes, of course that was very unfortunate, very unfortunate indeed.’

‘This has all been bad for the Faction and it’s all been bad for the Party, too. First your scandal-’

‘That was all lies. You’ve read the papers over the weekend. You should know that!’ interrupted Watanabe.

‘Yes, the woman now says she was with Kinjo. How very fortunate for you that she changed her mind.’

‘Told the truth don’t you mean?’

‘Is that so? Look! Just for the record, do you mind telling us exactly what you know about the whole affair involving this woman. What’s her name?
Junko Iida…
Just
so there is consistency in what we know and what we say to the press, if any of us are asked. At the moment we are all completely in the dark.’

Watanabe felt himself relax - a little. So all this was an exercise in consistent, collective responsibility. He should have known better than to imagine that it was anything other.

‘Yes, you are right,’ he started, in a tone of humility. ‘Perhaps it was an error on my part to hide Kinjo’s indiscretions from you. So you want the truth about Kinjo, do you?’ He looked around at the members, who looked at each other and then nodded in response like a group of indiscreet school boys about to take a peep at their first porno magazine. ‘Kinjo is a serial womaniser. Some of you perhaps know this already. It was almost like an addiction for him, an unstoppable compulsion. Anyway, it was about a month ago, I’d say, that we attended a meeting in Shinbashi at a meeting room within a hotel – the hotel where this
Junko Iida
worked.-’

‘Who was that meeting with? Why go to some hotel in Shinbashi?’

‘It was a minor meeting with a prospective donator to the faction – the hotel proprietor, nothing more than that,’ lied Watanabe in a dismissive tone. He was feeling much more comfortable now. ‘Anyway, Kinjo, being Kinjo, took advantage of an opportunity that presented itself to him. Whether or not he masqueraded as myself, I do not know, but it appears that the girl was mistaken in her belief that she’d been with me. I understand that she has now altered her story to the truth. That’s all I know. I know he met the girl, I know he went with the girl and I know which date this was all supposed to have happened. Beyond that I know nothing and it certainly has nothing to do with me. Of that you can be quite sure.’ He laid his palms flat on the table in a gesture of openness and innocence.

‘So what do you make of these, then?’ said Mitsui sliding some photographs across the table. There was complete silence in the room. Each of the other men sat around the table had their eyes focussed solely on Watanabe. Watanabe had been looking Mitsui straight in the eye but slowly lowered his gaze down to the pictures in front of him. He was expecting to see some naked woman caught in his clutches. Instead he saw something entirely innocent. He was looking at the inside of a coffee house.

‘What’s this?’

‘We were hoping you would tell us?’

‘I’ve no idea what this is all about? What is this?’ he asked pointing at the photograph.

‘I thought you might say that,’ replied Mitsui smugly. ‘So I kept this particular shot back.’ He slid yet another photograph across the table. This one was of Watanabe sitting in the self-same coffee shop.

‘I see.’

‘Can you explain?’

‘There is nothing to explain.’

‘Really? And there was us thinking that this looked very much like a pay-off.’

‘A pay-off? What on earth are you talking about? Is that what you think this is?’ laughed Watanabe, unconvincingly. ‘Can’t a man sit in a coffee house now-a-days.’

‘It’s not the man, but the attaché case,’ replied Mitsui coldly. He slid yet another photograph across the table – this time with
Junko Iida sitting in front of a plate of delicious looking pancakes. ‘Too much of a co-incidence, we think? This looks entirely like a man trying to shift a scandal onto an innocent colleague, a colleague who has been wrongly accused and wrongly sacked as a consequence. And the reason for all this is you!’ Mitsui slammed his hand down on the table as he simultaneously stood up.

‘How dare you make such an accusation,’ demanded Watanabe also rising to his feet. The two men stood eyeball to eyeball. ‘You’d be nowhere without me. There would be no Watanabe faction without me. How dare you accuse me?’ he repeated again, stabbing his finger into Mitsui’s chest.

‘There’s something else,’ said Mitsui frostily.

‘There is something else,’ concurred the others in unison.

For the first time in his life Watanabe felt genuinely trapped. He frantically looked around the group. Any composure that he may have possessed had long since drained away. He backed away and swept his hands through his hair. It looked, at last, as if they’d eventually found out.

He opted for bare-faced denial – it was his only hope and anyway it was something he was well practiced in. He looked around the group who, to a man, had their eyes fixed on him awaiting an explanation. Presently he had none and so in a bid to gain some time he walked across to the window. Eleven pairs of eyes walked with him.

He looked down into the street where dutiful caretakers were still clearing snow away from the front of their respective office buildings, ubiquitous salary men were hurrying down the street and the occasional shopper was still daring to fulfil their needs despite the cold and the ice. He shuddered. It was a dismal scene – one that reflected his own emotions.

How on earth had he allowed events to out-flank him in such a way? He scratched his nose and ran his hands through his hair and then poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the side table. He then returned to his seat. Despite the slowness of his actions his mind was thinking fast. Eleven pairs of eyes returned with him. A simple strategy had sprung to mind. It was now time to enact it.

He pulled what he hoped was a confidence giving smile, but for whose benefit he wasn’t sure.

‘Friends, friends,’ he said. ‘What we have here is nothing more than an unfortunate misunderstanding. I’m sure you can see that.’ He held his arms out wide as if trying to embrace the entire group.

Mitsui and the others remained resolutely impassive and eleven pairs of eyes looked from his finger tips to his face.

‘You have photographs of me sitting in a coffee house and I admit-‘

Eleven pairs of eyes opened wider.

‘I admit that it doesn’t look particularly innocent – but that’s not what it was. There
is
an innocent explanation to all this. I went to the coffee house, yes. I needed to be alone and I needed to think. I’d only just been accused of that ridiculous affair, the Ryozo had walked out on us and I’d parted ways with Kinjo. I needed to clear my head. I needed a place, a quiet place, to think and to come up with a new strategy and a way out of this mess. Now, I know having said that, that you will automatically assume that my solution was this… this…er… pay-off. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have to say that my attempt at clearing my mind didn’t work. My head was too full of depressing thoughts and conflicting views so that when I finally got up to leave I completely forgot that I’d taken my attaché case. That was my only error here - a simple slip, by a mind that had become overloaded. Thankfully, I might add, there was nothing important in there - nothing more than a few papers concerning recent opinion polls, nothing sensitive or important. No! I’m afraid to say gentlemen that all your attempts at deriving subterfuge and misdeeds are nothing more than mistaken guesswork. Yes, I went to the coffee house, yes, I left my attaché case there, and yes, it seems the woman was there but that is the end of it. It is a complete and utter co-incidence that this woman,’ he slapped the photograph aggressively, ‘that this woman was there.’ He sat back in his seat as if finished and eyeballed each and every man surrounding him.