mc.risingsun-第52章

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nything　they　want。〃
　〃Maybe　we　don't；　Ken。〃
　〃Tell　it　to　the　judge。〃　He　sighed。　〃But　I　don't　know　if　the　public　gives　a　damn。　That's　the　question。　Even　about　the　taxes。〃
　I　was　feeling　a　little　dull。　〃Taxes？〃
　〃We're　doing　a　big　series　on　taxes。　The　government　is　finally　noticing　that　Japanese　corporations　do　a　lot　of　business　here；　but　they　don't　pay　much　tax　in　America。　Some　of　them　pay　none；　which　is　ridiculous。　They　control　their　profits　by　overpricing　the　Japanese　subponents　that　their　American　assembly　plants　import。　It's　outrageous；　but　of　course；　the　American　government　has　never　been　too　swift　about　penalizing　Japan　before。　And　the　Japanese　spend　half　a　billion　a　year　in　Washington；　to　keep　everybody　calmed　down。〃
　〃But　you're　going　to　do　a　tax　story？〃
　〃Yeah。　And　we're　looking　at　Nakamoto。　My　sources　keep　telling　me　Nakamoto's　going　to　get　hit　with　a　price…fixing　suit。　Price…fixing　is　the　name　of　the　game　for　Japanese　panies。　I　pulled　a　list　of　who's　settled　lawsuits。　Nintendo　in　1991；　price…fixing　games。　Mitsubishi　that　year；　price…fixing　TVs。　Panasonic　in　1989。　Minolta　in　1987。　And　you　know　that's　just　the　tip　of　the　iceberg。〃
　〃Then　it's　good　you're　doing　the　story；〃　I　said。
　He　coughed。　〃You　want　to　go　on　record？　About　the　Vietnamese　who　speak　Japanese？〃
　〃No；〃　I　said。
　〃We're　all　in　this　together；〃　he　said。
　〃I　don't　think　it　would　do　any　good；〃　I　said。
　
　I　had　lunch　with　Connor　at　a　sushi　bar　in　Culver　City。　As　we　were　pulling　up；　someone　was　placing　a　CLOSED　sign　in　the　window。　He　saw　Connor；　and　flipped　it　to　say　OPEN。
　〃They　know　me　here；〃　Connor　said。
　〃You　mean　they　like　you？〃
　〃It's　hard　to　know　about　that。〃
　〃They　want　your　business？〃
　〃No；〃　Connor　said。　〃Probably　Hiroshi　would　prefer　to　close。　It　won't　be　profitable　for　him　to　keep　his　people　on；　just　for　two　gaijin　customers。　But　I　e　here　often。　He　is　honoring　the　relationship。　It　doesn't　really　have　to　do　with　business　or　liking。〃
　We　got　out　of　the　car。
　〃Americans　don't　understand；〃　he　said。　〃Because　the　Japanese　system　is　fundamentally　different。〃
　〃Yeah；　well；　I　think　they're　starting　to　understand；〃　I　said。　I　told　him　Ken　Shubik's　story　about　price…fixing。
　Connor　sighed。　〃It's　a　cheap　shot　to　say　the　Japanese　are　dishonest。　They're　not　…　but　they　play　by　different　rules。　Americans　just　don't　get　it。〃
　〃That's　fine；〃　I　said。　〃But　price…fixing　is　illegal。〃
　〃In　America；〃　he　said。　〃Yes。　But　it's　normal　procedure　in　Japan。　Remember；　kōhai：　fundamentally　different。　Collusive　agreements　are　the　way　things　are　done。　The　Nomura　stock　scandal　showed　that。　Americans　get　moralistic　about　collusion；　instead　of　just　seeing　it　as　a　different　way　of　doing　business。　Which　is　all　it　is。〃
　We　went　into　the　sushi　bar。　There　was　a　lot　of　bowing　and　greeting。　Connor　spoke　Japanese　and　we　sat　at　the　bar。　We　didn't　order。
　I　said；　〃Aren't　we　going　to　order？〃
　〃No；〃　Connor　said。　〃It　would　be　offensive。　Hiroshi　will　decide　for　us　what　we　would　like。〃
　So　we　sat　at　the　bar　and　Hiroshi　brought　us　dishes。　I　watched　him　cutting　fish。
　The　phone　rang。　From　the　far　end　of　the　sushi　bar；　a　man　said；　〃Connor…san；　onna　no　hito　ga　matteru　to　ittemashita　yo。〃
　〃Dōmo；〃　Connor　said；　nodding。　He　turned　to　me；　and　pushed　back　from　the　bar。　〃Guess　we　won't　eat；　after　all。　Time　for　us　to　go　to　our　next　appointment。　You　brought　the　tape　with　you？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Good。〃
　〃Where　are　we　going？〃
　〃To　see　your　friend；〃　he　said。　〃Miss　Asakuma。〃
　
　？
　We　were　bouncing　along　the　potholes　of　the　Santa　Monica　freeway；　heading　downtown。　The　afternoon　sky　was　gray；　it　looked　like　rain。　My　back　hurt。　Connor　was　looking　out　the　window；　humming　to　himself；
　In　all　the　excitement；　I　had　forgotten　about　Theresa's　call　the　night　before。　She　had　said　she　was　looking　at　the　last　part　of　the　tape；　and　she　thought　there　was　a　problem。
　〃Have　you　talked　to　her？〃
　〃Theresa？　Briefly。　I　gave　her　some　advice。〃
　〃Last　night；　she　said　there　was　a　problem　with　the　tape。〃
　〃Oh？　She　didn't　mention　that　to　me。〃
　I　had　the　feeling　he　wasn't　telling　me　the　truth；　but　my　back　was　throbbing　and　I　wasn't　in　the　mood　to　press　him。　There　were　times　when　I　thought　Connor　had　bee　Japanese　himself。　He　had　that　reserve；　that　secretive　manner。
　I　said；　〃You　never　told　me　why　you　left　Japan。〃
　〃Oh；　that。〃　He　sighed。　〃I　had　a　job；　working　for　a　corporation。　Advising　on　security。　But　it　didn't　work　out。〃
　〃Why　not？〃
　〃Well；　the　job　was　all　right。　It　was　fine。〃
　〃Then　what　was　it？〃
　He　shook　his　head。　〃Most　people　who've　lived　in　Japan　e　away　with　mixed　feelings。　In　many　ways；　the　Japanese　are　wonderful　people。　They're　hardworking；　intelligent；　and　humorous。　They　have　real　integrity。　They　are　also　the　most　racist　people　on　the　planet。　That's　why　they're　always　accusing　everybody　else　of　racism。　They're　so　prejudiced；　they　assume　everybody　else　must　be；　too。　And　living　in　Japan　。　。　。　I　just　got　tired；　after　a　while；　of　the　way　things　worked。　I　got　tired　of　seeing　women　move　to　the　other　side　of　the　street　when　they　saw　me　walking　toward　them　at　night。　I　got　tired　of　noticing　that　the　last　two　seats　to　be　occupied　on　the　subway　were　the　ones　on　either　side　of　me。　I　got　tired　of　the　airline　stewardesses　asking　Japanese　passengers　if　they　minded　sitting　next　to　a　gaijin；　assuming　that　I　couldn't　understand　what　they　were　saying　because　they　were　speaking　Japanese。　I　got　tired　of　the　exclusion；　the　subtle　patronizing；　the　jokes　behind　my　back。　I　got　tired　of　being　a　nigger。　I　just　。　。　。　got　tired。　I　gave　up。〃
　〃Sounds　to　me　like　you　don't　really　like　them。〃
　〃No；〃　Connor　said。　〃I　do。　I　like　them　very　much。　But　I'm　not　Japanese；　and　they　never　let　me　forget　it。〃　He　sighed　again。　〃I　have　many　Japanese　friends　who　work　in　America；　and　it's　hard　for　them；　too。　The　differences　cut　both　ways。　They　feel　excluded。　People　don't　sit　next　to　them；　either。　But　my　friends　always　ask　me　to　remember　that　they　are　human　beings　first；　and　Japanese　second。　Unfortunately；　in　my　experience　that　is　not　always　true。〃
　〃You　mean；　they're　Japanese　first。〃
　He　shrugged。　〃Family　is　family。〃
　We　drove　the　rest　of　the　way　in　silence。
　
　？
　We　were　in　a　small　room　on　the　third　floor　of　a　boardinghouse　for　foreign　students。　Theresa　Asakuma　explained　it　was　not　her　room；　it　belonged　to　a　friend　who　was　studying　in　Italy　for　a　term。　She　had　set　up　the　small　VCR　and　a　small　monitor　on　a　table。
　〃I　thought　I　should　get　out　of　the　lab；〃　she　said；　running　the　machine　fast　forward。　〃But　I　wanted　you　to　see　this。　This　is　the　end　of　one　of　the　tapes　you　brought　me。　It　begins　right　after　the　senator　has　left　the　room。〃
　She　slowed　the　tape；　and　I　saw　the　wide　view　of　the　forty…sixth　floor　of　the　Nakamoto　building。　The　floor　was　deserted。　The　pale　body　of　Cheryl　Austin　lay　on　the　dark　conference　table。
　The　tape　continued　to　roll。
　Nothing　happened。　It　was　a　static　scene。
　I　said；　〃What　are　we　looking　at？〃
　〃Just　wait。〃
　The　tape　continued。　Still　nothing　happened。
　And　then　I　saw；　clearly；　the　girl's　leg　twitch。
　〃What　was　that？〃
　〃A　spasm？〃
　〃I'm　not　sure。〃
　Now　the　girl's　arm；　outlined　against　the　dark　wood；　moved。　There　was　no　question　about　it。　The　fingers　closed　and　opened。
　〃She's　still　alive！〃
　Theresa　nodded。　〃That's　the　way　it　looks。　Now　watch　the　clock。〃
　The　clock　on　the　wall　said　8：36。　I　watched　it。　Nothing　happened。　The　tape　ran　for　two　more　minutes。
　Connor　sighed。
　〃The　clock　isn't　moving。〃
　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃I　first　noticed　the　grain　pattern；　on　a　close　scan。　The　pixels　were　jumping　back　and　forth。〃
　〃Meaning　what？〃
　〃We　call　it　rock　and　roll。　It's　the　usual　way　to　disguise　a　freeze…frame。　A　normal　freeze　is　visible　to　the　eye；　because　the　smallest　units　of　the　image　are　suddenly　static。　Whereas　in　a　regular　picture；　there's　always　some　small　movement；　even　if　it's　just　random。　So　what　you　do　is　you　rock　and　roll；　cycling　three　seconds　of　image　over　and　over。　It　gives　a　little　movement；　makes　the　freeze　less　obvious。〃
　〃You're　saying　the　tape　was　frozen　at　eight　thirty…six？〃
　〃Yes。　And　the　girl　was　apparently　still　alive　at　that　time。　I　don't　know　for　sure。　But　maybe。〃
　Connor　nodded。　〃So　that's　why　the　original　tape　is　so　important。〃
　〃What　original　tape？〃　she　said。
　I　produced　the　tape　I　had　found　in　my　apartment　the　night　before。
　〃Run　it；〃　Connor　said。
　
　In　crisp　color；　we　saw　the　forty…sixth　floor。　It　was　from　the　side　camera；　with　a　good　view　of　the　conference　room。　And　it　was　one　of　the　original　tapes：　we　saw　the　murder；　and　we　saw　Morton　leave　the　girl　behind　on　the　table。
　The　tape　ran　on。　We　watched　the　girl。
　〃Can　you　see　the　wall　clock？〃
　〃Not　in　this　angle。〃
　〃How　much　time　do　you　think　has　gone　by？〃
　Theresa　shook　her　head。　〃It's　time　lapse。　I　can't　say。　A　few　minutes。〃
　Then；　the　girl　moved　on　the　table。　Her　hand　twitched；　and　then　her　head　moved。　She　was　alive。　There　was　no　question　about　it。
　And　in　the　glass　of　the　conference　room；　we　saw　the　shape　of　a　man。　He　walked　forward；　appearing　from　the　right。　He　entered　the　room；　looking　back　once　to　make　sure　he　was　alone。　It　was　Ishiguro。　Very　deliberately；　he　walked　to　the　edge　of　the　table；　placed　his　hands　on　the　girl's　neck；　and　strangled　her。
　〃Jesus。〃
　It　seemed　to　take　a　long　time。　The　girl　struggled　toward　the　end。　Ishiguro　held　her　down；　long　after　she　had　stopped　moving。
　〃He's　not　taking　any　chances。〃
　〃No；〃　Connor　said。　〃He's　not。〃
　Finally；　Ishiguro　stepped　back　from　the　body；　shot　his　cuffs；　straightened　his　suit　jacket。
　〃All　right；〃　Connor　said。　〃You　can　stop　the　tape　now。　I've　seen　enough。〃
　
　We　were　back　outside。　Weak　sunlight　filtered　through　the　smoggy　haze。　Cars　roared　by；　bouncing　in　the　potholes。　The　houses　along　the　street　looked　cheap　to　me；　in　disrepair。
　We　got　in　our　car。
　〃What　now？〃　I　said。
　He　handed　me　the　car　phone。　〃Call　downtown；〃　he　said；　〃and　tell　them　we　have　a　tape　that　shows　Ishiguro　did　the　murder。　Tell　them　we're　going　to　Nakamoto　now；　to　arrest　Ishiguro。〃
　〃I　thought　you　didn't　like　car　phones。〃
　〃Just　do　it；〃　Connor　said。　〃We're　about　finished；　anyway。〃
　So　I　did　it。　I　told　the　dispatcher　what　our　plan　was；　where　we　were　going。　They　asked　if　we　wanted　backup。　Connor　shook　his　head；　so　I　said　we　didn't　need　backup。
　I　hung　up　the　phone。
　〃Now　what？〃
　〃Let's　go　to　Nakamoto。〃
　
　？
　After　seeing　the　forty…sixth　floor　so　many　times　on　videotape；　it　was　strange　to　find　myself　there　again。　Although　it　was　Saturday；　the　office　was　busy　and　active；　secretaries　and　executives　were　hurrying　about。　And　the　office　looked　different　during　the　day；　sunlight　poured　in　through　the　large　windows　on　all　sides；　and　the　surrounding　skyscrapers　looked　close；　even　in　the　L。A。　haze。
　Looking　up；　I　saw　that　the　surveillance　cameras　had　been　removed　from　the　walls。　To　the　right；　the　conference　room　where　Cheryl　Austin　had　died　was　being　remodeled。　The　black　furniture　was　gone。　Workmen　were　installing　a　blond　wood　table　and　new　beige　chairs。　The　room　looked　pletely　different。
　On　the　other　side　of　the　atrium；　a　meeting　was　being　held　in　the　large　conference　room。　Sunlight　streamed　in　through　the　glass　walls　on　forty　people　sitting　on　both　sides　of　a　long　table　covered　in　green　felt。