The Informer Page 4

  Segawa didn’t get a chance to say anything, nor did he have the time to consider how he’d got himself into this situation. Sakai kept talking, his voice potent with subdued excitement.

  “. . . Of course, there are many professional agents who offer their services to anyone who will hire them. The trouble with such agents is that the client can never be quite sure whose side they’re on. Here lies the real value of an industrial intelli­gence agency organised on the lines of our company. We take orders only from concerns belonging to the same group, and the people who deal with us have complete confidence in us.”

  “Are other members of our staff engaged in this work, too?”

  “No, they don’t know anything about this—they’re just sales­men. Since I wanted to maintain a certain degree of indepen­dence, I didn’t put all my eggs in the one basket. Also, the trading operation provides an excellent cover . . . No, you are the first person I’ve engaged for intelligence work. Actually, the operation hasn’t quite got beyond the experimental stage yet, and I’ve no intention of putting on more staff in a hurry. In any case, because of the nature of the work, a very strict selection method would have to be employed . . . No, for the time being at least, you and I will make up the staff of the intelligence agency.”

  “But is it possible to do the job properly with a two-man team?”

  “That’d depend, of course, on the particular assignment and the circumstances, but I don’t expect to encounter any great difficulties. All we have to do is make use of people tactfully. One intelligence agency I know of works exclusively for a car manufacturer, and it only has a few people on its staff.”

  “That may be so, but I’m a complete amateur.”

  “You can master the tricks in no time. There are all sorts of gadgets—a miniature tape-recorder and a variety of listening devices, for example—but you can learn to use these in less than half a day. You already know how to use a camera, so you shouldn’t have any trouble with copying techniques. In any case, the value of these electronic aids is vastly overrated. More often than not, success depends on your own feet and ears. The opportunity to use scientific weapons is not nearly as frequent as commonly imagined.”

  A deep furrow formed between Segawa’s eyebrows. “Mr. Sakai,” he said, “may I ask you a basic question? Why did you pick me for this job?”

  Sakai grinned. “Right from the start I had my eyes on men who used to work in the securities industry, and I’m proud of my idea. They’ve been trained in the heartless world of money and have the guts to do pretty bold things. Furthermore, they’re used to meeting and talking with smart people, and have the intelli­gence and cunning to ferret out information. To sum it up, they have all the character traits of a successful industrial spy. From my point of view, it was rather fortunate there has been a stock market slump and many capable men had to leave the indus­try . . . Yes, I was working on the right lines, don’t you think?”

  Segawa was speechless with admiration. This was an awe­some man, he thought. To have any hope of success in this job, he must learn from him.

  Sakai said, “People like professional private detectives are too pushy, and they seem to have a special odour about them which gives them away. I could never work with them.” He paused for a moment. “I hope you won’t be offended by this, but the man I was looking for as my partner is one who has the outward appearance of the perfect gentleman but is a wolf in­side. Of course, there are many wolves without fangs, but dur­ing the past four weeks you’ve proved you’re not one of those.”

  Sakai leaned forward in his chair and fixed his eyes on Segawa. “Well,” he said, “will you do this job with me? Of course, once the operation is running smoothly, we won’t even mention petty sums like 50,000 yen a month. I speak from ex­perience when I say that in this type of work it’s not unusual to earn several hundred thousand yen—even a million yen—with a single assignment. And later on, when the stock market swings back to normal, you could probably earn some more money on the side, using information you pick up in this job.”

  Sakai downed his whisky in one gulp. “If you decide not to undertake the work, then you needn’t come here tomorrow. In that case I have your promise not to mention this to anybody. But even if it did get out, it wouldn’t concern me a great deal. At worst, it’d only mean winding up this company and starting up another somewhere else.”

  Listening to this, Segawa’s mind was subconsciously leaning more and more in the one possible direction. The income would be excellent, there’d be the chance of laying his hands on really big money, and the job would be full of thrills . . . Since he had nothing to lose, what reason was there to hesitate? He’d learned only too well that honesty got him nowhere. To regain his old status and to go forward from there, pursuing his dream, first he must be willing to try something extraordinary . . .

  These thoughts were popping up in his mind, one by one, in a rather confused fashion since he was half drunk. By now his moral sense was completely paralysed.

  “I understand it all,” he said ceremoniously. “I’ll undertake willingly anything you want me to do. I’m at your service—please allow me to accept you as my teacher.” He bowed po­litely. Although there was little difference in their ages, Segawa felt it in his bones that from now on Sakai would be his undisputed master.

  “Thank you,” Sakai said. “Shall we drink to this?”

  Before the clink of the glasses had time to die down, he was talking again.

  “I’d like you to start on this straight away—tomorrow morn­ing in fact.”

  Segawa panicked. He had hoped there’d be at least some training period, however short.

  Sakai read his mind and burst into light-hearted laughter. “Don’t worry,” he said, “you’ll manage your first job without any trouble—I’ve made sure of that. Using your past experience—your past friendships—it won’t be so hard.”

  “What am I to do?”

  “The target is the Shichiyo Chemical Company. I understand one of the executives of this company is a former classmate of yours. I heard this from Mr. Ogushi . . .”

  Segawa felt greasy sweat coming through the pores of his forehead.

  “. . . Naturally, you’d feel some resistance to the idea of be­traying your friend, but if you worry about such things, then you can’t do this job.” Sakai said this in a low voice, but there was a sharp edge to it.

  Segawa asked hoarsely, “What sort of information am I to obtain from the Shichiyo Chemical Company?”

  “The company isn’t very big, but they have a great asset in the person of a Dr. Nishiwaki, a young but very distinguished scientist. I’ve reason to believe he recently produced an impor­tant new material. It’s some sort of an additive, and its perfor­mance is not known, but as far as I can make out, it’s likely to revolutionise a number of chemical processes. I hardly need to tell you that our clients have been keenly interested in this for some time. Obviously, it’d be quite impossible for you to get what they want in a week or ten days, but I’d like you to pro­duce some result within, say, one month from now?”

  “One month . . .”

  “The first thing you’ll have to do is get a picture on the com­pany’s internal structure and find out where the cracks are. This is normal procedure on any assignment, and in this case you’ve a flying start because of your ready access to executive director Ogino . . . Ah, another thing—Dr. Nishiwaki is mar­ried to Ogino’s sister, Sadako, but you may know this already.”

  Sakai’s voice was full of confidence, as if to suggest that this was a very simple job indeed, with hardly any risks attached.

  “When you begin your investigations,” he said, “you’ll find almost at once that all is not well within the Shichiyo Chemi­cal Company. This has been the case ever since the former president—Shoichi Ogino’s father—died some years ago. The current president, Yusaku Ogino, seems to lack the pow
er to exercise proper control over the company. This kind of infor­mation is always valuable when put to proper use.”

  “To tell you the truth,” Segawa said meekly, “I don’t think I could face Mr. Ogino again. I’ve let him down pretty badly . . . Even if I wanted to visit him I’d—”

  “Do you owe him some money?”

  “Yes, that’s right. When I had my own business and things had gone wrong, I borrowed some money from him, but I haven’t been able to return it.”

  “How much do you owe him now?”

  “About 200,000 yen.”

  “Well, as it happens, this is most convenient.” Sakai’s lips curled into a grin as he took a wallet from his inside pocket. He picked out five 10,000 yen notes and placed them neatly on the table. “I won’t say I give you this—consider it as an advance on the job. You take this to him and tell him you can’t return the full amount yet, but you’re getting it together gradually. Ogino will be touched by your sincerity and will feel as friendly towards you as ever.”

  Segawa managed to suppress a shudder. His heart was filled with awe for this man . . . and shame at the thought of having to betray Ogino. On top of it, Eiko came to his mind.

  “If I must take poison,” he mumbled drunkenly, “I might as well take it all at once.” He poured the whisky down his throat.

  4

  Segawa got out of the subway at Minami Asagaya station and walked slowly through the residential area south of the Ome Highway. The parcel of Johnny Walker Red was weighing heavily under his arm. He hadn’t bought it—Sakai got it for him from some place.

  The thing I’m going to do may be wicked, but it won’t do him any personal harm. He had been saying this since last night and now repeated it once more under his breath.

  If the Shichiyo Chemical Company suffered damage as result of his spying, he thought, the current president would have to take most of the blame. This might actually help Ogino to reach the presidential chair sooner.

  Even if this was a false argument, it was better than nothing—and he badly needed some excuse to justify himself.

  His old friend . . . the man who willingly gave him 200,000 yen when he was in trouble . . . now he was going to betray him . . .

  But despite these scruples, a strange feeling of satisfaction was beginning to warm him. It was something like the satisfac­tion of revenge, only he had no motive for it. So far as Eiko was concerned, it had been his own decision, and he certainly couldn’t blame Ogino for it. How badly Ogino treated Eiko, well, that was none of his business. It was a problem between them—between husband and wife.

  And yet, he couldn’t say he didn’t have a desire to split up those two. This was petty jealousy—a man of straw being jeal­ous of a man of substance who also had position and a beautiful wife. He couldn’t help laughing at himself.

  The pale blue light of the house he was heading for came into his view. It wasn’t so big, but it was a modern, fashionable building. After his father’s death Ogino had sold the big old house and had this new one built here.

  Segawa reached out towards the bell as if he was going to touch something dangerous. He heard the chime inside, and when the door opened he felt as if both his knee joints had been suddenly disconnected.

  “My goodness, it’s you!”

  The face in the doorway belonged to Toshiko Murozaki.

  Segawa felt the tension inside him loosen its grip. “Ah, it’s you,” he said inanely.

  “Aren’t we clever at thinking up nice words of greeting?” Toshiko asked, laughing. “And aren’t I lucky to be at my sister’s place tonight? I’m glad you’ve come.” She turned her head to­wards the hallway and called out, “Sister! There’s a stranger at the door. Come and see who it is.”

  The tension gripped him once more.

  As soon as Eiko recognised him, her smile vanished and her face became very pale.

  “Hello,” Segawa mumbled. “Nice to see you again.”

  Eiko didn’t reply immediately. She was dressed simply in a white blouse and blue skirt. She didn’t seem to have changed since her student days.

  But when he lowered his eyes he realised she had developed full feminine curves around the hips, and her breasts were a little smaller than before.

  “Please come inside. My husband will be home soon.” She said this as if she was tongue-tied. Without another word she guided him into the visitors’ room.

  The greetings they exchanged had been clumsy, but he thought her eyes had a strange glow in them when they met his. Perhaps it was only his imagination.

  “What happened to you, sister?” Toshiko asked mockingly. “You’re so terribly formal. You didn’t talk to each other like this before, I’ll bet.”

  Eiko glared at her but said nothing.

  Toshiko shrugged and left the room.

  “How have you been?” Segawa asked after another spell of silence.

  “No complaints.”

  There was a further pause, and then he asked the same ques­tion in a different way, and she answered it once more.

  “And how’s Ogino? Is he well?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “And you—have you been happy?”

  This was just another cliché, and Segawa meant it to be nothing more, but Eiko glanced at him with obvious resent­ment and closed her lips tightly.

  “Oh, excuse my intrusion,” Toshiko said affectedly as she brought in the tea. With impish eyes she looked at one, and then at the other, and said, “My goodness. I thought you’d be busy talking about old times by now. But you look as if you’ve just started on a game of glaring at each other. I wonder if it’s always the same scene when old lovers meet again?”

  “Toshi, stop it, please.”

  Eiko’s words carried no trace of anger. Rather they were a desperate plea to be left alone, and Segawa was shocked. If she were satisfied with her present life, surely her response to Toshiko’s tactlessness would’ve been more vehement. If she were happy, her memories of the past could be gently put aside . . .

  Suddenly he recalled his last date with Eiko. When he’d told her their relationship must come to an end, her eyes became cloudy and soon the tears were running down her cheeks. He told her he’d promised himself not to get married until he’d made at least twenty million yen.

  Now he nearly burst out laughing at the thought of it.

  He looked at Eiko again. This woman hadn’t forgotten him yet. She might yet be the means of achieving the purpose fore­most in his mind . . .

  There was the sound of a car horn outside the house. Eiko made a face as if she had just been released from an evil spell, and stood up. “That must be my husband,” she said.

  Looking at her back as she walked out of the room, Segawa realised that from now on she’d have two streams of emotions stirring in her. And she wouldn’t be alone in this. His own mind was filled with the conflicting feelings of affection and ambition, friendship and betrayal . . .

  “Well, if it isn’t Shigeo Segawa,” Shoichi Ogino said in a spirited voice as he came in, wearing a checked sports shirt as if just back from golf. Ever since his student days he had a rather serious and quiet nature, but now sophistication and an air of dignity were added. “What wind has brought you to these shores? . . . I was wondering what happened to you—Ogushi said something about you the other day.”

  No irony was intended and yet, to Segawa the words felt like the bites of a four-headed snake.

  “I’m sorry, and ashamed of myself,” he said humbly. “Please accept my apologies.” Now the play had started, he thought.

  “You don’t have to behave like a stranger . . . Eiko, bring in the beer, will you?”

  She left like a fugitive, following Toshiko out of the room.

  When they were alone, Segawa placed an envelope contain­ing 50,000 yen on top of the whisky package and push
ed the lot towards Ogino.

  “I’ve let you down badly on this occasion, and this is only part of the money I owe you, but in my present circumstances I’m unable to repay the lot at once. Please let me do it in four instalments.”

  Ogino stared at the envelope for a while. “You are a fool,” he said. “Have you been avoiding me because of this? I hope I’m not offending you by saying so, but lending you 200,000 lousy yen is not likely to put me out. It’s only natural for us old friends to help each other.”

  Segawa gazed at the carpet. The words carried friendliness and goodwill and yet, Ogino’s reference to the 200,000 yen only aroused his resentment.

  Ogino said, “There is a maxim about not lending money to one’s closest friend. Money can ruin the purest friendship, but I didn’t think we’d fall into the same trap.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Anyway, as an appreciation of your sincerity, I’ll accept this money. I don’t know—you might’ve had to work hard for it, so please don’t worry about the rest. Leave it till you have enough to spare.”

  Toshiko came in with a tray of beer and savouries.

  “What happened to Eiko?” Ogino asked.

  “She says she’s feeling a bit dizzy.”

  “Ha. You sure it’s not because Mr. Segawa is here?”