The Thief Read online

  “I look much better with my make-up on. Ten thousand will do.”

  She grabbed the boy’s arms, lifted him onto the carrier and rode away. He didn’t look back.

  6 When I heard the story from Ishikawa we were in an underground passage beneath a railway line. We’d taken several wallets, divided up the money in a booth in a bar and left, but he wouldn’t let me go. He headed towards the indoor parking lot, then changed his mind and kept walking into the concrete pedestrian underpass beneath the railway line. Occasionally a bike would pass us, but at this hour of night the tunnel was quiet. Coffee cans and the wreckage of rotten lunch containers lay beneath the graffiti. Insects flitted in front of my face and I brushed them away with my hand as we walked deeper inside. The crunch of our footsteps echoed feebly under the low ceiling. Two small black plastic bags lay in the middle of the passage, their contents mysterious. When I touched one with my foot it sprang back with unpleasant elasticity, like dark meat.

  “Not exactly the nicest place, I know,” said Ishikawa, leaning against the wall. “That bar would probably have been fine, but maybe outside is better.”

  He’d drunk more than usual that day. He faced me and opened his mouth to speak, then looked at the ground. He lit a cigarette and took a couple of drags.

  “I’m working for this company.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye. “No, maybe it’s not a company. Anyway, whatever it is, I’m working for it. Maybe.”

  I squatted down and lit a cigarette of my own. The tails of my coat were almost touching the floor so I tucked them between my bent legs and rested my back against the wall.

  “But it’s risky, as things stand. It’s not just that I might get caught. There’s a possibility I might even get killed—or worse. So I’ve got to get out. While I still don’t know much.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just listen.”

  A homeless man appeared at the entrance of the passage, saw us and shuffled away.

  “If I quit now, while it’s just like a part-time job, I can get out. I told someone I wanted to leave Tokyo. They know me, they know I’d never talk to the cops. But somehow he heard about it. I would just have been one insignificant person leaving, but he wouldn’t let it go.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy you met at the office. Calls himself Kizaki, but that’s probably not his real name. He’s the boss of the company, or whatever it is.”

  I felt a vague sense of foreboding.

  “You can leave, he told me, but join us for this job first. That’ll make us even for the passport and all the other stuff, he said. Because I’m in a good mood, he said. Even said he’d give me a cut. Wherever I end up, I should always be grateful to him, he said.”

  “What’s the job?”

  “Armed robbery.”

  I went a little weak at the knees.

  “What?”

  “Not like that. More precisely, they need a bunch of papers. The target’s an old man, a speculator, and it sounds like they’re going to fake a robbery and take the papers along with the money. They’ll be pretty rough—when guys like these get impatient they generally are.”

  “What sort of papers?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I threw my cigarette butt into the gutter and stood up.

  “It sounds suspicious. You better quit.”

  “Well, here’s the real problem.”

  He paused. One of the lights in the passage, which had been flickering, gave up the ghost and went out.

  “He told me to get you to come too. He knows about you.”

  “What?”

  “You used to be in Tanabe’s gang, didn’t you?”

  My heart started to beat faster.

  “They would get their information sorted ahead of time and do the actual robberies. What type of keys the rich houses had, whether there was a safe. Real pros, completely different from those amateur outfits. The info came from somebody one of Kizaki’s underlings knew. Of course the source’s boss also took a cut. That’s how Kizaki found out about you.”

  “This guy, what does he do?”

  “I don’t know. I thought he was a yakuza front man but somehow it doesn’t look like it. How can I put it? He’s weird, really weird. Talks a lot, laughs a lot, and there’s a rumor that sometimes he kills people.”

  A young man in a suit entered the tunnel, muttering to himself. When he saw us he shut up, quickened his pace and disappeared out the other side. In his wake he left a strong smell of alcohol.

  “Can’t you do a runner?”

  “Not easily. They say a couple of people have run away from him and ended up dead. He’s relentless, I hear. He’s like the yakuza in that way at least.”

  “You can’t trust him.”

  A train passed over our heads, a freighter by the sound of it. I was nervous and I felt a throbbing warmth deep inside me. I knew that soon I would feel nothing but that heat. When the tower appeared in front of me, the dirty black plastic moved into clearer focus. I stared at the pathetic, flesh-like trash.

  “But armed robbery means killing, doesn’t it? I don’t like—”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “They want to avoid getting the cops involved. Even if he’s robbed, the old man can’t go to the police. The money comes from tax evasion and they’d be very interested in his papers as well. But if they kill him then it’ll have to become a police matter.”

  “There’s still something fishy about it,” I said, but I decided to go along with it anyway.

  I definitely had that pulsating heat in my gut. I was driven less by concern over what would happen to Ishikawa if I took off than by the presentiment that things were heading in a strange direction. In those days, whenever I was faced with a choice I favored action over inaction, the path which would lead me away from the world. As I walked behind Ishikawa, time hung densely around me. I felt as though I were being squeezed by something lukewarm and springy. Saeko’s face drifted into my mind and when we emerged from the underpass I saw an iron tower that I’d never noticed before. It stood there in the dark, its tip exposed to the cold sky.

  AT THE AGREED time Ishikawa brought Tachibana to the station. I didn’t know what their original relationship was but sometimes he’d go pickpocketing with us and he often watched us with a grin on his face. Without a word we went into the office where Ishikawa always worked on his own.

  The desks and chairs were already gone and the room was bare. We sat on the floor and immediately three men entered. That made me even more nervous, because the timing suggested that they’d been following us. Ishikawa didn’t seem to know them. They were carrying three large cases, which they put carelessly in a corner as if they were furniture movers.

  “So you’re the ones, are you?” said the tallest man in a gruff voice as he sat down.

  He appeared to be in his mid-forties, but his face was covered in strange lines so it was hard to tell.

  “Right, you guys look like you won’t screw up. You all look thoroughly dishonest.”

  He tossed us some bottles of water. I hesitated to open mine but Tachibana started to drink, watching their faces. The other two guys were in their thirties, of medium build. Like the tall man, their faces were marked with lines. One had a buzzcut, the other a flattop, and both were wearing dirty windbreakers.

  “We’re going to tell you the plan right now, and then we go through with it tonight. I know it’s short notice, but we can’t have anyone chickening out and mentioning it somewhere. Get yourselves ready. You get five million yen each. Any objections?”

  The amount was inexplicably large. I glanced at Ishikawa but he showed no reaction, and neither did Tachibana. Looking at the man who was doing the talking, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  “Niimi’s probably told you most of it, but the most important thing is that during the job no one says a word except for him.”

  While the tall guy was speaking the door opened a
nd Kizaki himself came in. I was taken by surprise, but the other three men seemed to be shocked as well. He was wearing a black suit, a brand I didn’t recognize, sunglasses, and a watch on his left wrist. I couldn’t identify the watch either. On his neck was a striking purple scar. The tall man started to say something but he cut him off.

  “I’ve got nothing to do today,” he said, face twisting in what might have been a smile.

  The men fell silent. In the hush that followed I could hear the sound of my breathing. Their nervousness seemed to be catching, and I stared at the man moving around in the stillness. He appeared to stand out from his surroundings, to draw people’s attention somehow. My skin tingled where it was exposed to the air, as if he was emitting something. He watched us with amusement.

  “So we meet at last,” he said, curling his lip at Tachibana.

  He seemed cheerful, a completely different person from the one I’d met before in the same office. Tachibana smiled back, trying to look cool, but he was sweating.

  “All right, this is important.” Kizaki turned to his subordinates. “It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. So far you’ve done everything I’ve asked of you perfectly. But I’m going to talk to them now, because I’m at a loose end.”

  The three men nodded and he flopped himself down in the space between us. My throat was dry and I sipped from my bottle. He was a little too close for comfort.

  “The most important thing about carrying out a crime is planning. People who commit crimes without planning are idiots.”

  For some reason he looked at me when he said this.

  “But because they’re idiots in the first place they still commit the crime. They can’t help it. On the other hand, really brilliant people don’t care about the law either. In fact, without the law crime would be boring. Get it?”

  He still didn’t take his eyes off me. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

  “After that, it’s all about courage. Do you know the book Crime and Punishment? Probably not. Raskolnikov, he had no courage.”

  Without turning around, he shifted position slightly and gave the flattop guy behind him a violent blow. I was shocked but tried not to show it. Flattop keeled over and as he lay on his side the man continued to beat him around the ear as though pounding his head into the floor. The harsh sound echoed. I kept my breathing shallow. My instincts told me not to move.

  “That means that even if you see something unexpected like this you don’t panic.”

  The guy who had been beaten picked himself up slowly and returned to a sitting position, his face swollen. When Kizaki turned back towards me his expression was unchanged but his breathing was somewhat ragged. I got the feeling this was caused less by physical exertion than by excitement. I looked away.

  “OK, I’ll put it simply. Maybe they told you already, but first of all, you two keep your mouths shut. We’re going to the house of this old man, an investor. He’s a perfect example of one of those pigs that the world spews out all the time.”

  I glanced at Flattop again. Our eyes almost met and I didn’t know where to look.

  In the aftermath of the violence Kizaki’s low voice rang out clearly. He was wearing a business shirt of some kind under his jacket.

  “You’ll go by car, so you don’t need to know the address, but you do need to memorize the layout of the house. It’s really big.”

  The tall man brought out a plan. His hands were shaking slightly. None of the men seemed to have quite come to terms with the fact that Kizaki was there. Neither the guy who had been attacked nor Buzzcut moved a muscle, as though they had been turned to stone. They just stared at the man’s back, sweating.

  “There’s the old man and a woman living in the house. She’s his housekeeper and his mistress or something. His wife isn’t there. That means there are only two people. There used to be two other women like that, but they both got pregnant and quit. There’s a secretary as well, but she’s on holiday overseas this week. Your job is to intimidate the woman and tie her up so that she doesn’t get in the way. To assist, in other words. Only Niimi will threaten her, talking like he’s Chinese. You’ve been told how to do that, right? Because you’re used to armed robbery as well.”

  The man looked at Ishikawa and curled his lip. Ishikawa nodded briefly.

  “Of course the mistress is a real looker, but don’t get any ideas. I guess you’re not starved for women. If you’re horny, with five million yen you can screw as many women as you like. Yeah, we’re paying you five million. Any objections?”

  It was the second time I’d heard that, but I shook my head anyway.

  “The gangsters around there are all morons. Can’t use them. If they see a woman they can’t control themselves. They’d leave semen and saliva, and if they just killed her she’d put up a fight and there’d be skin under her fingernails.”

  The three men laughed a little, as if in response.

  “They’d get stupid ideas about the money as well. But I don’t think I have to worry about you. You’re not dumb, and I heard from Tanabe that Nishimura never gave them any trouble about the split.”

  I did my best to keep a poker face but couldn’t prevent a flood of sweat. That was my real name. I’d never told it to Tanabe or Ishikawa or anyone. I tried to look at Ishikawa but couldn’t catch his eye.

  The man turned to Tachibana.

  “You I don’t know, but I guess you’ll do. You’re ambitious. I can see it in your face. An ambitious lad isn’t going to risk his life for that sort of money. Anyway, here’s the plan. The woman’s bedroom is here. According to our listening devices, the old man calls the woman to his bed but never goes to hers. So as soon as you get inside the house you three go to this room and tie her up. If she’s not there, go straight to the old man’s room and do it there. You don’t have to deal with the old man. Just concentrate on taking care of the woman. Whatever happens, don’t let her scream. Easy.”

  The man was sighing more frequently, as if he was getting sick of talking. The tall man tried to take over but he held up a hand to stop him. As he did so I could see the mark on his neck more clearly.

  “In fact, this scheme is really interesting. I wish I could join you. In his safe the old man’s got eighty million yen he’s been avoiding taxes on. Apart from that, there are some papers in there that we need. The others will threaten them and make him open the safe. You don’t have to do that, and if you can it’s probably best not to look. But that might be impossible. Most guys can’t help looking at money, just like they can’t help looking at a beautiful woman. You’ll use Japanese swords to scare him. Guns don’t look realistic, and for scaring someone in a hurry cold steel is best. We’ll give you the rope to tie her up afterwards. It’s the same type as a gang of Chinese burglars used a month ago. You’ll be wearing clothes and gloves and socks that are only sold in China. One of them was actually worn by a Chinaman in that gang. These guys will cunningly snag that piece of clothing on a door so they leave some fibers in the room. You’ll have special full-face helmets so you don’t drop any eyelashes. We’ve got two kinds of shoes—one set with the soles sanded off, and some with the same sole pattern as the ones the Chinese gang were wearing. That whole gang has already been taken out by some guys in Shinjuku. Even their bones are gone. If the old man self-destructs and decides to report the tax evasion and documents to the police, they’ll still have to go to a lot of trouble just to get as far as that Chinese gang. And since they’re already dead, the investigation will hit a dead-end. We’re going to make them think that the crime was committed by people who no longer exist. That’s one condition for a perfect crime.

  “There won’t be any killing, so you can relax. If you kill someone the cops take it really seriously. They put a lot more people on the case. There’s no need for us to do anything dumb like that. It’s better to leave the old man and the woman alive, use them to provide misleading information to the police. And most important of all, he doesn’t know that what we’re re
ally after is that packet of documents.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “There’s not one thing that can give us away. The job’s going to go off perfectly, so you could say that it’s already been determined that in a few hours time he’s going to lose his papers and his money. Even if you guys mess up and leave some evidence behind, there’s nothing linking you to us. As of today this office will cease to exist and anything connecting it to us has already disappeared. If you’re arrested and talk, all you can tell them is that you were working with a bunch of mysterious strangers. In fact, that’s the truth. Still, if you do decide to help the cops with their inquiries, unfortunately for you armed robbery will only keep you in prison for so long. You can’t be protected by walls forever. What’s more, we’ve got friends on the inside as well. Even if you manage to defend yourselves against them and get out safely, you’ll die as soon as you do. Not kidnapped and murdered by some shady characters. You won’t die like that. Stabbed without warning by a woman in a crowd, shot from long range, knifed by someone who just happens to be riding the same elevator as you. That sort of death.

  “In other words, what you guys have to do is not make any mistakes. Don’t get caught. Then accept the money with thanks and be quietly grateful to me. That’s all.”

  His mouth relaxed and he lit a cigarette. A hush fell in the empty office; the clicking sound of the tall man unscrewing the top of his water bottle seemed very loud. Watching him smoking, I wondered why I’d never smoked in this room. Flattop’s face looked puffier than it had before. Tachibana took a small breath, opened his mouth as if he was about to protest. Ishikawa remained silent.

  “Um, I’ve got a few questions, just to make sure,” Tachibana said. “First, whether the vehicle we’ll use is safe. How we’ll open the lock on such a big house. Then, when we’ll get our cut.”

  The man cleared his throat and stubbed out his cigarette with a bored expression. He waved his hand and the tall man answered.

  “The car is a van, stolen, and we got an expert to change the VIN. Even if we do get stopped at a checkpoint, my forged driver’s license matches the car’s registration papers. And if they write down the number on the plate, officially the car doesn’t exist so there’s nothing leading to me. More important, we know exactly where all the traffic checkpoints are today, and the location of the speed cameras. What else was there?”