The Informer Read online

  Yes, there was something definitely uncanny about Sakai, the way he kept things to himself. His wife and children had gone back to her parents’ home in Shimane Prefecture, and he himself lived on his own in an expensive apartment house at Yotsuya. This was a bit queer. Even if his company was very small, as owner-manager he should be able to afford to keep his family with him.

  Would this man, by any chance, have some secret connec­tion with smuggling or some other illegal activity, and run this company as a front? At times Segawa couldn’t help considering this possibility. But if Sakai was a smuggler, what possible advantage could he hope to gain from employing a former tra­der of a securities corporation? Of what use was a broker’s clerk to a smuggler? It was altogether beyond him to find an answer to this.

  In the end he decided the trouble was he was thinking too much about the damned thing. Sakai might be testing him, that was all. This seemed to be a simple and logical explanation.

  As usual, his head was full of these impossible questions and dubious answers when he returned to the office in the evening, dragging his heavy feet. He found Miss Nakashima there, look­ing after the office with an expression of utter boredom.

  “Hello,” she said. “Mr. Sakai had to go out on urgent busi­ness and left you the message that you can go home.”

  “Mmmm. Anything else?”

  “Yes, a young woman came in looking for you—oh, about thirty minutes ago. When I said you’d be back soon, she said she’d like to wait for you in some nearby café, and I told her to go to the Midori.”

  “Thanks. I’d better go and see what she wants.”

  It must be Kazumi Yamaguchi, he thought. He couldn’t imagine who else it could be.

  But when he walked into the Midori and looked around, he couldn’t see her anywhere. She might’ve gone to the ladies room.

  “Mr. Segawa! Here—this way.” Somebody called out to him in a high-pitched voice from the corner. A woman of twenty-four or twenty-five was waving to him, half raising herself from her seat.

  He went over, staring at her, trying to sort out who she was. “Hello,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his failure to recognise her. “You are—you must be—”

  “Goodness me! Have you forgotten me? I’m Toshiko Murozaki. Would it help you at all if I told you I’m Eiko’s sister?”

  “No, I didn’t forget you—of course not,” he protested. “But I certainly didn’t expect to meet you here, and you’ve changed so much—become quite beautiful, and—”

  “You are very flattering as usual. Why don’t you sit down—don’t just stand there.”

  With a forced smile Segawa sat down, uneasily facing the woman. He couldn’t imagine why his old girlfriend’s sister wanted to meet him, but knew he couldn’t avoid her now.

  “How did you manage to find out about my present place of work?”

  “Miss Yamaguchi told me.”

  “Aah. I see.”

  Segawa studied Toshiko’s face. He had known her as a cheeky, precocious girl, but this was the face of a beautiful female—one who obviously knew all about males.

  Those well shaped eyes and nose, the rich black hair, and the rest—he could recognise something of Eiko there and his heart began to beat a little faster.

  Of course, her expression was altogether different from Eiko’s. Eiko looked quiet and gentle. Toshiko, on the other hand, was obviously a wilful person who loved gay clothes. She was a Persian cat with claws concealed. But the contrast be­tween her and Eiko wasn’t so surprising, since they were half-sisters with different mothers.

  “We haven’t met for an awful long time,” she said. “When was the last time? Can you remember? Was it at my sister’s wedding? No, I think I saw you once more after that.”

  “That could be right . . . But tell me what happened since then?”

  “My father died last autumn.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Now I’m really on my own. As you know, my mother died a long time ago, and my one and only sister got married. But I must say I find it very relaxing being on my own.”

  “Have you thought of getting married?”

  “No, unfortunately. Haven’t met anybody special so far.” She gave him a vampish smile. “May I propose to you, Mr. Segawa? You know, when you were having all those dates with my sister, I sometimes thought of stealing you from her.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Yes, I was only joking, of course . . .” Suddenly she turned serious and her voice became accusing as she said, “Mr. Segawa, why didn’t you marry my sister? Why did you give her away to Mr. Ogino?”

  Segawa flinched. The cup in his hand moved enough to make the coffee spill into the saucer.

  Angrily he said, “What’s the idea—bringing this up so sud­denly? Did you call on me after all this time just to ask such questions?”

  “No, that’s not true,” she said. “I was just passing by and re­membered you, and felt a sudden longing for the past. When you were a student you were very kind to me—used to give me all sorts of presents. Looking back, I realise now that you were aiming at me, the horse, only to bring down the general.”

  “I’m grateful for your recollections, but let’s not dig up old stories.”

  “You are a coward, aren’t you?”

  This was a harsh thing to say, he thought.

  “What’s so cowardly about me?”

  “You won my sister over completely, then coldly pushed her away. This is clear to me now that I’m an adult, but would you mind telling me why?”

  “I pushed her away, did I? Well, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s true I became very friendly with Eiko, but I knew she was at­tracted to Ogino, too. And I placed your sister’s happiness first—that’s why I gave her up.”

  As he was talking, Segawa was struck by the irony of fate. When he’d first become interested in Eiko back in their school days, her best friend was Kazumi Yamaguchi, and his best friend was Shoichi Ogino. The two inseparable pairs had remained on friendly terms with one another for quite a while. Since then they’d certainly switched places, he thought.

  “You insist you gave her up for her own good?”

  “At least I thought that was the case. At that time I was doing fairly well on the stock market, but there was always the chance of a setback. I was always prepared for that—this is natural for anybody who speculates in stocks. I felt I just wasn’t the man to build a secure family life. Unfortunately, I was per­fectly right, as you can judge from my present situation. Had I married Eiko, who knows what hardships she’d be facing now? So I made the right decision, didn’t I?”

  Chewing on his bitter memories, Segawa kept talking. “I went through a bad time trying to reach that decision, I can tell you. But when I learnt that Ogino was in love with Eiko and wanted to marry her, I finally made up my mind. I knew Ogino could make Eiko happy. And why not? He’s the son of a former president of Shichiyo Chemical Company, and he holds the position of executive director, and his uncle is the current president. It can’t be long before he himself will sit in the presidential chair. What more could Eiko expect from life than ending up as wife to the president of a big company?”

  “Mr. Segawa, this may sound corny to you, but a woman’s happiness can’t be bought with money alone—especially if she’s as old-fashioned in her ideas as my sister.”

  “That may be so, but Ogino is a fine man. The loss of his par­ents during his student days made him very human. He’s not like other rich people’s sons who only want empty pleasure. Eiko also lost her mother early—this is another thing they have in common. In fact, I think they are a very well matched couple.”

  “You don’t know Mr. Ogino’s other face.” Toshiko’s eyes were wide open. She swallowed nervously. “There are many men with two faces, you know, and my brother-in-law is one of them—the perfect Jekyll an
d Hyde. He’s quite abnormal sexu­ally, you know.”

  “What?” The blood drained from Segawa’s face. He had just had a drink of water, but the shock made his throat tinder-dry.

  “My brother-in-law is a very jealous man, and quite violent—and I wish this was all . . . When it comes to striking a woman with a whip—that’s just a bit too much, don’t you think? Hon­estly, I can’t bear watching my sister—I feel so sorry for her. She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown, I’m sure. She says she doesn’t want money—only a divorce from him.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Segawa mumbled, trying to collect his thoughts.

  “Mr. Segawa, did you know my sister had a miscarriage last year?”

  “Yes, I heard about it from Miss Yamaguchi.”

  “But you don’t know the cause of it, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it wasn’t just the shock of Father’s death, as some peo­ple might have you to believe. My brother-in-law used vio­lence on her—that’s what it was. He became raving mad over some trifle, and my sister lost the baby the same night, after five months’ pregnancy . . . At least on that occasion he looked sorry for what he did.”

  “I—I can’t believe such a thing.” He visualised Eiko’s faultless white skin covered with ugly weals turning into pur­ple, and in the background, Ogino’s twisted, fearsome face . . . Only he couldn’t recall ever seeing him like that in reality.

  “I’m sorry,” Toshiko said. “I got carried away. I shouldn’t have told you these unpleasant things.” She sighed heavily. “Let’s change the subject, shall we? Let’s get out of here and have dinner somewhere. You must be my guest tonight, after putting up with all this.”

  She led the way out of the café. Segawa followed, numbly dragging himself along.

  The days were getting much longer now, and the colours of the sunset still lingered on at this hour. The May breeze which crossed over the treetops from Shinjuku Gardens touched his cheek comfortingly. He began to feel a bit better.

  They had been walking for a while when Toshiko suddenly became excited and called out to a woman on the opposite side of the street. She asked Segawa to wait for her and ran across the roadway.

  “I’m sorry about this,” she said when she returned to him a few minutes later. “It was Kyoko Tatsuta, one of my friends from high school. I haven’t seen her for ages.” Catching her breath, she added, “She’s engaged—to Mr. Saburo Kirishima, of all people! He’s the well known State Prosecutor—his name is always in the papers. You must’ve read about him.”

  “How could I miss it?”

  “Well, how about that—Mr. Kirishima marrying Kyoko? No such luck for me.”

  They covered another half a block, and for a while Toshiko kept up a monologue about Kyoko Tatsuta and Saburo Kiri­shima. Finally she fell silent, but then she stopped suddenly, as if struck by an idea.

  “Mr. Segawa, would you meet my sister again—just once, please? I’m sure it’d make her feel better.”

  Segawa couldn’t answer straight away. After what he’d been told he was all mixed up. He didn’t know what he’d like to do, and was wondering whether Toshiko’s call on him had been spontaneous or had a definite purpose.

  Finally he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I think it’s better if I don’t see her again.”

  3

  His first pay-day arrived, but Segawa was not at all happy about it. Over the last few days he hadn’t been able to sell a single massaging machine, and he was ashamed to take the money.

  When he returned to the office that evening, he found Sakai there on his own. Miss Nakashima and the other salesmen were gone.

  “I’m sorry you had to have such a long day again,” Sakai said. His politeness was a mere formality. Casually he handed Segawa an envelope. “Your salary.”

  To Segawa the sight of this first 50,000 yen was like the sighting of land to a castaway, and he had every right to take it. But he still had some pride and self-respect left, and it was ob­vious that, hard as he had worked, there wasn’t much to show for the money.

  He took the envelope with some hesitation. “Thank you, Mr. Sakai. I’ll accept this, but I’d like to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you mind transferring me to chemical sales?”

  “But why? Isn’t your present work interesting enough?” Sakai’s face remained expressionless.

  “It’s not a question of being interesting or not. I’ve tried my hardest over the past few weeks, and I’m convinced these massaging machines are impossible to sell. To keep on trying would be the waste of a good salary. I’ve had some small expe­rience in running a business, and I certainly understand that much. It’d be most difficult for me to continue under these circumstances.”

  Sakai grinned as if he had been anticipating Segawa’s words.

  “You are exactly the man I was hoping for,” he said.

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Please sit down. I think the time has come to tell you the truth.” Sakai pointed to one of the armchairs in the corner and took a bottle of Black & White and two glasses out of his desk. “Let’s talk while we have a drink. We mustn’t be overheard, and I think it’s safe enough here. But first I must ask you to promise me never to repeat to anyone what I’m about to tell you. Even if you decide to resign from the company, you must promise me on your honour to keep it strictly to yourself. Will you do this?”

  “Yes, I give you my word.” It was too late now anyway, Segawa thought, admitting at the same time that he couldn’t control his curiosity.

  “Thank you. And now, there’s one more thing I must ask you, just to make sure. You told me you used to say openly that money-making was your hobby. Do you still have this hobby?”

  “Why, of course. Only I no longer boast about it.”

  “Would you be willing to do anything for money?” Sakai’s face was very serious.

  Segawa felt a chill down his spine as he said, “I suppose so—short of robbery or murder, of course.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to go to such extremes. But how’d you feel about something that may be just a little outside the law?”

  “That’d depend on the degree. Strictly speaking, tebari is outside the law, too.”

  “You’d naturally have some experience in that?”

  “It’s no use denying it. You are familiar enough with the tricks of the stock market.”

  “That’s fine, then. And now, one last question. D’you think you could become completely impersonal and unfeeling in order to make money? Could you, for instance, deceive your friends, or make use of women and then drop them without the slightest hesitation?”

  Segawa wiped his lower lip. “I’m not sure . . . The stock mar­ket has taught me to be impersonal and unfeeling, but there again, everything would depend on the degree, I suppose.”

  “Yes, that’s quite natural. We’re all human, after all. We can only be expected to go so far—especially at the beginning,” Sakai muttered as if he was talking to himself. “Yes, that’s an honest answer.”

  Segawa could no longer control his curiosity. “But what are we supposed to do? Are we going to work some kind of a fraud?”

  “No, of course not! It’s nothing as bad as that.” Sakai poured some more whisky. “Anyway let’s drink to the end of all your worries, shall we? You had to go through a lot of trouble trying to sell that massaging machine. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t care less whether it sells or not. Actually, I never thought it would.”

  “Well, then what was the purpose of it all? Was it to try me out?”

  “Ah, yes, to some extent, but that wasn’t the main thing. The massaging machine approach will be very handy in the next job.”

  “But what is the next job?” A mixture of impatience and cu­riosity was about to explode in Segawa’s
mind. “What connec­tion is there between the new job and the massaging machine?”

  “Remember I told you to go for ageing executives? Some of them took the bait, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, the idea has merit in it. Unfortunately, fish will often eat the bait and then escape.”

  “Not this time. Just think of it—all your potential customers are fellow executives. Does this suggest anything to you?”

  “It wouldn’t be some simple trick like selling golf member­ship cards, would it?”

  “No, it isn’t. I remember the fellow who used to sell mem­bership tickets for a ghost country club, but our project isn’t as small-time as that.” Sakai’s eyes became brighter. “I suppose you’ve heard of industrial espionage?”

  Segawa sucked in his breath. The last two words suddenly dissolved all his questions.

  Sakai’s face broadened into a grin. “D’you understand now? Shinwa Trading Company is only the cloak that hides the real thing—an industrial intelligence agency. We have the backing of a major combine, but we operate independently and I shoul­der all the responsibilities. At this stage I can’t tell you the name of the combine . . .”

  Segawa thought it must be the Sanei Group. The two peo­ple who contacted him about the job were employees of this combine—Kazumi Yamaguchi worked for Sanei Products, and Shozo Ogushi was with Shinei Manufacturing Company. Of course, these two probably didn’t know anything about Sakai’s real business.

  Sakai became more thoughtful. “One day,” he said, “I’ll be able to tell you why I took up this work, but please don’t ask me that now. Simply understand that for a very good reason I’ve set up a new type of industrial intelligence agency.”

  Segawa recalled that when he’d first met Sakai, he thought he looked like a detective.

  Sakai poured some more whisky before going on, his eyes shining.

  “As you probably know, industrial espionage is a highly de­veloped business these days. This applies particularly to the car industry, where competition is fiercest. Each car manufacturer has its own intelligence agency, or at least some operator on its staff, and many queer things happen. At last year’s car show, for example, part of a new engine on display was stolen the first night . . . And I’m sure the makers of electrical appliances will have to follow the car manufacturers before long, and other industries will be forced into the same position. They’ll all have to use the services of the industrial spy simply to stay in business. Of course, many companies aren’t big enough to set up a special subsidiary for the purpose, and there’s naturally a limit to using their own staff for intelligence work . . .”