Lady Joker, Volume 1 Kaoru Takamura (ereader ebook .TXT) 📖

own crumpled handkerchief, which had been used as a blindfold, also emerged from the pockets of his jacket. Those items were promptly collected by the white-glove-wearing department staff.

First Shiroyama asked if he could wash his face, and in the lavatory he did so for the first time in dozens of hours, but he was dumbstruck when he saw the change to his own reflection in the mirror. His salt and pepper hair, which was quite abundant for his age, looked much greyer than he remembered it. His eyes and cheeks were so sunken that water could have pooled there, and the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and mouth had increased tenfold, all of which made him wonder who was this old man staring back at him. What struck him the most was how somber his eyes were. Looking into them, these eyes that did not register any sense of relief or happiness at being released from his captors, he felt a vague though deep-seated terror.

Shiroyama draped a blanket over himself and an electric heater was placed at his feet. Inside the room were three metal folding chairs and two desks, and the frosted glass on the iron-barred window prevented him from looking outside.

Shiroyama was not a criminal, but his present state of mind made him feel like one. Ever since he had stood outside the fire station, wondering what he should tell the police and how, once inside, he had stubbornly insisted, “I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with me. I can walk by myself. I’m not hurt,” evading their questions of his whereabouts for the last fifty-six hours with ambiguous replies of “I don’t know” and “I can’t remember.” Had his company received any demands from the criminals? If so, how were they handling them? How were they explaining things to the police? As long as he did not know those things, it was a given that he couldn’t say anything imprudent to the police, but also the photo he had been given by the criminals upon his release suggested the possibility that the crime group could be connected to the Okada Association. Shiroyama wished he could clam himself up in a shell, but he could only obfuscate like this for a few more hours. Once a formal interview began, he would have to say something.

Shiroyama turned over and over in his mind the fact that, no matter which path he decided to take, he would end up lying to the police and to his company. He intended to conceal his family’s scandal from both parties and somehow remedy the situation by bowing to the criminals’ demands. He confirmed this with himself repeatedly. The trouble was, now that he had been rescued and was seated before the warmth of a heater, he had started to gravitate toward the idea that it would all be easier if he disclosed everything to the police. Each time Shiroyama reminded himself that as long as the Okada Association was involved, he could not expect anything from the police anyway, and admonished himself to stay calm and hold his ground. Shiroyama spent his brief respite in such internal conflict as he waited for the investigators from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department who were expected to arrive shortly.

At half past eight, four men appeared, saying they were from MPD. Shiroyama greeted them with a bow and apologized for putting them to this trouble, but when he realized that the investigators were already scrutinizing his expression and demeanor, he felt a sudden chill and had to turn his eyes away.

The investigators confirmed his identity once more—Shiroyama repeated his legal domicile, current address, full name, age, and occupation. For his part, all Shiroyama could manage was to inquire about the wellbeing of his family. He was told that no harm had come to them.

Next, they asked him to undergo a more thorough medical examination by a physician before traveling back to Tokyo, and when he insisted that he was fine, that it wasn’t necessary, they pushed back, saying, “Just in case.” Even in that moment, he felt the piercing eyes of the investigators on him. Part of him wondered if such looks weren’t just a hazard of their occupation, but on the other hand, Shiroyama had his own doubts and fears that the police suspected him of something, and for some time, he fell prey to speculating why this might be, growing ever more cautious.

The physician checked his eyes and the inside of his mouth, pressed a stethoscope to his chest, and took his blood pressure. After the physician announced that there were no significant problems and left, one of the investigators finally acknowledged the incident by saying, “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.” Spoken in such a formulaic and unemotional tone, the words did not sound the least bit sympathetic.

“To get right to the point, do you have any idea who the kidnappers are?” an investigator asked.

“No,” Shiroyama replied.

“You say you were blindfolded the entire time, meaning you did not see the perpetrators at all?”

“I did not.”

“We will ask for more details later at Investigation Headquarters, but at this point in time, the perpetrators have not made any contact whatsoever with your family, either. However, there is no mistake that this is a premeditated crime, so whether it is financially motivated or has to do with some kind of grudge, we are currently doing our utmost to pursue an investigation of anyone with a connection to your company along those lines.”

At the mention of anyone with a connection to his company, Shiroyama imagined how, in his absence, the police must have probed and pried into their business. Because of the risk management system they had installed last autumn, Hinode’s firewalls were now stronger than that of other companies, which no doubt had raised the ire of the police.

“So you say you went along a path in the mountains with the perpetrators and they led you to the road. Did the perpetrators clearly state that they were