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

ready to make the payment? if so, take out an ad with the words, “father forgives kyoko” in the may 5th issue of nikkan sports.

—lady joker

Shiroyama had to run his eyes over the letter three or four times. Partly it took time to sink in because suddenly all the events leading up to this point seemed to have lost their sense of reality. Or the cryptic name, “Lady Joker,” may have been what confused him.

“Well, then—we’ll follow the manual and this will be handled by the control center. Are we all good on that?”

Shiroyama had expected easy agreement, but instead Kurata parried. “May I have a word?” He gestured with his eyes toward the door, then stood up and left the room first. Shiroyama followed after him, stunned.

The suggestion that Kurata presented, in the dark hallway beneath the stage, was completely mind-boggling: consulting the board.

“I myself went back and forth many times before reaching this conclusion. If we don’t take the time now to reconfirm the board’s decision, including the specifics of disbursing the money and how the paperwork will be manipulated, we’ll lose control of things if and when something goes awry.”

“What are you saying . . . ? If we decide to consult the board now, it’s possible that the consensus we worked so hard for three weeks ago will have been for nothing.”

“That’s exactly right. Which is why I’m saying this to you now. If we entrust this matter entirely to the control center and only get the board’s approval after the fact, it could give the wrong impression to certain individuals. Sakakibara, Otani, Yoshikawa, Shinozaki, Isaka . . .” Kurata rattled off the names of executives at the main office, then continued with more names at the level of branch and factory managers. “Yamamoto, Tsuboi, Takasaka, Moriwaki . . .”

While they had worked toward that earlier consensus, there had been various opposing viewpoints about bending to the criminals’ demand. In addition, executives from certain divisions felt a sense of alarm related to the possibility of the manufacturing sector being sacrificed as pieces were being strategically positioned for impending subsidiary spinoffs. Finally, there were executives who, despite having mentally processed the numerous structural reforms that Shiroyama had forged ahead with over the last five years, still could not accept them emotionally. Shiroyama was all too familiar with the current status of the board, a complicated tangle of interests, emotions, and logic that went well beyond simple categorization into Shirai or Kurata factions and which defied a simple count of votes.

Kurata, who most feared damage to the company’s beer, who had meticulously calculated the potential losses in a worst-case scenario, and who had taken such a forceful lead with the board, was now suggesting they do the exact opposite of what he had said before. Shiroyama wracked his brain futilely, trying to figure out Kurata’s true intentions.

“If we just consent to the criminals’ demand now, then down the line we’ll have no choice but to go along with Okada’s demand too. Tamaru is saying that the land deal is for four billion . . .”

“When did he mention that price?”

“In February. Since I’m not responding to him, it’s possible Tamaru will attempt to negotiate directly with you. I intend to do my best to prevent that, but if he were to point out the fact that we had caved to the criminals’ demand, we’d lose our negotiating edge. No matter what, we must avoid a situation where we end up shelling out six billion—Tamaru’s sum plus what the criminals are demanding.”

“Let’s keep the issue with Tamaru separate from the criminals’ demand. If we were to refuse to cooperate and there were some kind of damage to our product, the losses incurred would run into the billions—that was your prediction. What would be the point of jeopardizing the board’s decision?”

“I’m not saying that we shouldn’t consent to their demand. But even if we do go along in the end, it won’t do to give the executives the impression that we’re simply putty in the hands of the criminals. That’s why I’m saying we should involve the board.”

“But even if we consult with them about how to handle this letter, we’re still back to a simple yes or no.”

“Once we let the executives air their opinions on the issue, why don’t we buy some time by telling the board that we want to exercise caution by reporting it to the police and conferring with them about what our response should be? Even the most fastidious executives would consent to that. Your position would be protected too. Please, I’d like for us to do this. I’ll be responsible for directing the board.”

His strong tone left no room for hesitation. Shiroyama admitted he had neither the willpower to push back nor the ability to evaluate the pros and cons in the matter. As the logic that he had mentally imposed upon the circumstances began to unravel, the sheer force of his anxiety compelled him to reply with, “I suppose so.”

Perhaps Kurata had seen through this, for he cracked a slight smile. “Shiroyama-san. My opinion is entirely the same as yours. You know I would never allow for a contingency that would, for example, prevent us from shipping the orders for forty-nine million cases of beer for the months of May and June.”

“I suppose not.”

“The police probably want to force a move by the criminals, so I assume they’ll tell us to go through the motions of complying with the criminals’ demand. Which is perfectly convenient for us. Pretending to go along with what the criminals want will also enable us to negotiate a backroom deal down the line.”

Ultimately they agreed to call a board meeting by the end of the day, as Kurata had suggested, and they parted ways. Once alone, however, Shiroyama sighed deeply, contemplating just how delicate the situation now was.

The bridge that Shiroyama and Kurata had to cross was blocked on one end by extortionists who called themselves