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

said, “The lavatory is this way.” Shiroyama, it would seem, would be going in with an investigator watching over him. At this point Shiroyama finally realized that the police were trying to keep him from meeting with his employee alone.

But as soon as he entered the bathroom, Shiroyama understood why their precautions weren’t so unreasonable. Inside the portable toothbrush case was a piece of paper folded to fit its exact size. Tucking the paper furtively into his left palm, Shiroyama finished brushing his teeth before moving on to shaving his beard. Then he went into one of the stalls where he unfolded the paper in his hand and saw the rows of tiny letters jotted in ballpoint pen on the thin, B5-size Japanese paper.

At the top of the note were the words, ATTN: President Shiroyama. It was signed by Kotani, who was their representative from the risk management company.

 

During your interview with the police, please bear the following points in mind:

Express your willingness to cooperate fully with the investigation.

In exchange, vehemently request that they prevent any information from leaking to the media.

In the event we must comply with the criminals’ monetary demands, regardless of their true intentions, be sure to give the impression that it is the company that is the blackmail target. Were the company to pay off a threat against an individual, it could be construed as a breach of trust.

At this point in time, when we cannot predict future developments, it is best to avoid giving detailed testimony during your first formal interview.

Please dispose of this paper once you have read it.

In the margin of the text was a message written in Kurata’s handwriting: No confirmation of O.’s involvement in the case. But chances high they will take advantage of the situation. Please take heed. Even if the perpetrators were not connected to Okada, the results were the same. Shiroyama determined as much.

Shiroyama flushed the note along with some toilet paper, and exited the stall. Then, he washed his face, and once he had combed his seemingly greyer hair, which still stood on end, he became more or less presentable, despite looking like a different person from two and a half days earlier.

Next, Shiroyama returned to the same room and changed clothes in front of the investigators. His humiliation and patience had reached the limit, but thanks to the amount of tension he felt, by the time he had slid his arms through the sleeves of his brand-new dress shirt, Shiroyama had enough presence of mind to arrange administrative concerns in their appropriate order in his head. As he buttoned his shirt, he dictated a series of messages to Kurata.

“First, please send a fax to every branch and sales office, factory, and affiliated company apologizing for the trouble and telling them the president has returned safely, and so on. Then, before the end of the day, send a letter of apology under my name to shareholders and clients. Please have the executives and the branch and sales office managers divide amongst themselves and apologize in person at the headquarters and branch offices of our larger distributors. By the way, what is the status of the press conference we will hold as a company?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing first, but we’ve planned it for 10 a.m.”

“Please tell them I’ll be ready to hold my own press conference by the end of the day tomorrow. Make sure every division proceeds with their regular business without delay, and that they provide a report. The board meeting might have to be delayed, but I would like to hold a meeting during the day today with just the managing and executive directors working at the main office, so please set that up. And please let my secretary Ms. Nozaki know that if it gets too late she doesn’t need to wait for me.”

“I understand.”

“And, my family—tell them I might be home a little late . . .”

“I will. Please don’t worry about it.”

Shiroyama put on a fresh tie and slipped on his jacket. Having cleaned up, he wasn’t entirely back to himself, but he did finally feel able to take control of the vagaries of his emotions over the past three hours. The clothing Shiroyama had taken off would be seized and examined for residue, and an investigator filled out a form: “One white dress shirt, one wool vest,” and so on. His briefcase was also taken away so that it could be tested for fingerprints, and then he was asked to write out his name and address and add a thumbprint to the form. He saw that under the column Submitter’s Preference for Item Handling, someone had already written, Please return.

“Okay then, let’s go.” At this signal, the investigators escorted Shiroyama out of the room. Kurata shouted from behind Shiroyama, “There are cameras out there!” and as soon as he stepped outside the glass doors at the front entrance, the media descended on him. Television crews and newspaper reporters had surrounded the area around the covered driveway. The police department staff made an effort to hold them back, but it made no difference whatsoever from Shiroyama’s point of view. For a few seconds Shiroyama stood before the sea of people surging toward him, stunned and frozen, as he looked at each and every anonymous face, male and female. At first he couldn’t understand what they wanted, but when he heard Kurata murmur, “It’s TV, bow to them,” at last he snapped back to himself.

Shiroyama managed to bow once to the press corps, and then he climbed into the waiting car as prompted by the investigators, but just before the door closed he finally registered what some of the cries were. “How do you feel right now?” “What were you thinking about while you were being held?” “What is your opinion about Hinode Beer being targeted?”

How I feel right now, what I thought about while being held, my opinion about Hinode Beer being targeted . . .