el.angeleyes-第51节

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tell　me。　They're　grateful　to　stay　here。〃
　〃You　needn't　worry；〃　Honno　said；　immediately　concerned。　''I　won't　be　here　long。〃
　Big　Ezoe　waved　a　hand。　〃Stay　as　long　as　you　need　to；〃　he　said。　〃I　have　many　such　apartments　all　across　Tokyo。〃
　〃Well；　there's　the　expense　to　think　of。〃
　〃Why　should　you　think　of　it？〃　Big　Ezoe　said。　〃I　don't。〃　Honno　looked　at　him；　and　he　nodded。　〃Now　you're　thinking；　Why　is　he　doing　this？　What　does　he　want　from　me；　and　when　is　he　going　to　exact　his　price？〃
　〃No；　I…〃
　〃It's　perfectly　natural　to　have　such　thoughts。　First；　I　am　Yakuza。　Second；　you　hate　my　guts。　You　yourself　said　as　much　when　we　met　again。　This　is　not　a　bination　to　inspire　a　sense　of　trust；　is　it？〃
　Honno　found　it　impossible　to　answer。　She　had　never　before　encountered　anyone　who　had　the　temerity　to　be　so　direct；　to　cut　through　the　layers　of　ritualized　fabrication　that　seemed　an　integral　part　of　every　conversation。
　''But　the　fact　is　that　my　interest　is　a　simple　one：　the　evidence　of　wrongdoing　your　friend　Kakuei　Sakata　left　behind　in　those　cryptic　ledgers。　I　have　many　important　ties　to　the　business　munity。　I　don't　know　what　Sakata　knew；　what　he　had　gotten　hold　of；　but　it　is　important　for　me　to　find　out；　before　anyone　else　does　and　leaks　it　to　the　authorities；　such　as　your　husband。''
　〃But…〃
　〃It　is　time　to　get　on　with　things。　Are　you　ready；　Mrs。　Kansei？〃　Big　Ezoe　produced　a　memo　pad；　tore　off　the　top　sheet　of　paper；　handed　it　to　her。　〃This　is　your　itinerary　for　tonight。　Please　follow　it。　I　promise　you　will　be　neither　disappointed　nor　bored。　There's　a　car　waiting　for　you　downstairs。　The　driver　has　a　copy　of　the　itinerary；　and　he's　familiar　with　all　the　venues。〃
　'　'But　what　about　Giin　and　the　ledgers？　〃
　〃I'll　meet　you　at　the　Ginza　club　at　six　tomorrow　morning；　and　we'll　discuss　everything　then。〃　Big　Ezoe　rose。　〃Now　I　must　leave　you。　Enjoy　yourself　tonight；　Mrs。　Kansei。〃
　There　was；　indeed；　a　driver　waiting　for　Honno　outside。　He　bowed；　opened　the　back　door　of　a　pearl…gray　560　SEL　Mercedes　with　tinted　windows。　The　night　air　was　already　heavy　with　hints　of　the　ing　bad　weather。　Honno　ducked　into　the　cool；　dimly　lit　interior；　found　someone　already　in　the　backseat。
　〃Good　evening；　Mrs。　Kansei；〃　a　thin　young　man　said　pleasantly。　He　wore　his　thick　hair　slicked　back　over　his　delicate　ears；　a　pair　of　wide；　masculine　sunglasses　was　wrapped　around　his　eyes。　He　was　dressed　in　an　immaculate　dove…gray　summer…weight　suit；　with　a　starched　white　shirt　and　a　rep　tie。　Honno　noticed　gold　cuff　links　and　a　ring　that　appeared　to　be　a　nugget　of　gold。　〃I　am　Fukuda；〃　he　said。　〃Big　Ezoe　asked　me　to　be　your　guide　tonight。　Will　that　be　convenient。〃　There　was　no　interrogative　at　the　end　of　the　sentence；　and　therefore　it　lost　its　usual　meaning。
　The　enormous　Mercedes　was　already　slipping　effortlessly　through　the　choked　Tokyo　streets。　How　it　was　able　to　do　that；　Honno　could　not　imagine。　It　was　as　if　she　had　entered　another　world；　someplace　that　most　people　never　knew　existed；　let　alone　ever　got　to　see；　a　world　where　the　natural　laws　of　physics；　economics；　and　social　customs　were　void；　a　world　of　smoke　and　dreams。　Honno　put　her　head　back；　luxuriating　in　the　feel　of　the　German　leather；　and　thought　of　nothing。
　Their　first　stop　was　in　Shinjuku。　Honno　and　Fukuda　rode　the　high…speed　elevator　to　the　fortieth　floor。　He　led　her　down　a　corridor　filled　only　with　the　hushed　whisper　of　the　air…conditioning。
　Fukuda　produced　a　key。　They　slipped　through　a　small　door　just　down　the　hall　from　a　set　of　imposing　double　doors　on　which　was　painted　one　character　in　kanji；　KAGA；　along　with　the　corporate　logo　in　three…dimensional　bronze；　which　was　as　universally　known　as　that　of　Mitsubishi　or　Panasonic。
　The　rooms　through　which　they　passed　like　ghosts　were　silent；　save　for　the　battery　of　fax　machines　running；　now　and　again；　like　arcane　radios；　picking　up　the　random　conversation　of　the　cosmos；　sending　out　their　own　messages　in　timed　sequence　to　Australia；　West　Germany；　me　United　States；　on　and　on；　a　bizarre　automated　munication　among　masses　of　electronic　circuits　and　silicone　chips；　whole　cities　of　a　new　civilization。
　At　length　Fukuda　turned　a　doorknob；　and　as　he　did　so；　he　put　his　forefinger　briefly　across　Honno's　lips。　Shhh。　Honno　found　herself　in　a　secretary's　anteroom。　The　window　behind　the　empty　desk　had　its　blinds　up；　and　a　brilliant　shaft　of　light　shot　outward。　Fukuda　led　her　around　to　an　area　of　shadow　where　they　could　stand　and　peer　into　the　inner　office；　assured　of　not　being　seen　themselves。
　Inside；　a　heavyset　middle…aged　man　was　busy　on　the　sofa　with　a　woman　who　had　her　skirt　up　over　her　hips。　Fukuda　put　his　lips　to　Honno's　ear。　〃The　man　is　Kaga's　senior　vice…president　of　finance。　Does　the　woman　look　familiar？〃
　Honno　looked；　was　stunned　to　recognize　Mama…san　from　the　house　that　Big　Ezoe　owned；　where　they　had　discovered　her　husband　with　his　lover。
　Honno　watched；　fascinated；　as　the　Kaga　vice…president　worked　assiduously　on　his　own　pleasure。　It　was　odd；　she　thought；　how　incongruous；　even　grotesque；　the　act　could　appear　without　the　elusive　ingredient　of　sexual　attraction。　The　one　true　magic　potion…passion…was　the　great　leveler　that　cut　through　race；　religion；　even　class。　Honno　considered　it　the　most　powerful　force　on　earth。　How　many　great　men　had　been　laid　low　by　their　lust？
　Fukuda　gestured；　and　Honno　followed　him　silently　back　through　the　maze　of　offices；　the　whining　fax　machines。
　Downstairs；　the　streets　were　slick　with　moisture。　A　kind　of　precipitation　was　falling　on　Tokyo　that　could　not　quite　be　called　rain。　It　had　picked　up　so　much　of　the　industrial　pollutants　in　the　air　that　it　fell　like　sleet；　though　the　temperature　was　warm。　One　day　the　Japanese　would　find　a　term　for　it；　just　as　they　would　find　a　way　to　describe　the　automatic　nocturnal　conversations　between　faxes。
　The　purring　Mercedes　took　Honno　and　Fukuda　onward；　through　the　nocturnal　traffic；　deep　into　the　heart　of　Shinjuku；　dark　with　forbidden　pleasures　despite　the　sprays　of　brilliant　neon　shooting　up　the　sides　of　buildings；　reflected　endlessly　in　glass　towers；　spreading　like　dye　along　the　wet　tarmac　of　the　streets。
　The　Mercedes　slid　to　a　stop　in　front　of　an　udon…a　noodle　parlor。　Fukuda　took　Honno　through　the　dingy；　steamy　restaurant；　down　a　long　dark　hallway　that　echoed　with　the　tiny　sounds　of　the　city　seeping　through　the　walls　like　sweat。
　They　entered　what　was　obviously　a　Yakuza　gambling　house。　Long　low　tables　were　set　out　upon　the　floor；　around　which　were　arrayed　an　interesting　melange　of　men。　They　were　illuminated　by　wide…shaded　lamps　hung　by　cords　from　the　ceiling。
　Fukuda　and　Honno　kept　to　the　shadows　ringing　the　walls。　Honno　could　see　the　irizumi…covered　Yakuza；　their　fantastically　conceived　tattoos　given　a　life　of　their　own　by　the　movements　of　their　bodies　as　they　moved　packets　of　money　around　the　tables。
　This　was　no　local　gambling　house；　these　were　games　played　for　the　highest　possible　stakes。　And　now　Honno　began　to　concentrate　on　the　faces　that　belonged　to　the　gamblers：　the　conservatively　dressed；　immaculately　groomed；　sober…visaged　men；　men　such　as　she　had　seen　every　day　of　her　business　week　trooping　in　and　out　of　Kunio　Michita's　office。
　Fukuda　leaned　unobtrusively　toward　her；　whispered；　〃The　third　man　on　your　left。　The　one　with　the　pencil　mustache　and　the　largest　bets　in　the　house。　He　is　the　senior　vice…president　for　administration　for　Kaga。''
　Honno　watched　as　if　enwrapped　by　a　kind　of　enchantment；　as　the　senior　Kaga　officer　proceeded　to　lose　6；500；000　yen…　approximately　50；000…in　just　over　an　hour。　By　that　time　his　hair　was　disheveled；　his　tie　was　askew；　there　was　sweat　beading　his　pencil…thin　mustache；　and　he　was　frantically　writing　out　a　marker　for　an　equal　amount。　The　marker　was　passed　from　one　Yakuza　to　another　until；　at　length；　it　arrived　at　the　head　of　the　table。
　A　bald　man　with　the　image　of　a　dragon　tattooed　on　his　shining　skull　took　the　slip；　read　it。　Then　he　looked　up；　poker…faced。　With　a　little　thrill；　Honno　saw　that　he　was　looking　directly　at　Fukuda。　Fukuda　gave　an　almost　imperceptible　nod；　and　the　man　with　the　dragon　tattoo　pocketed　the　marker；　slapped　three　packets　of　yen　onto　the　table；　had　them　passed　to　the　Kaga　officer。
　Honno　was　wondering　just　how　deeply　Big　Ezoe's　claws　had　penetrated　the　Kaga　conglomerate　when　they　arrived　at　their　third　destination。　They　were　still　within　the　precincts　of　Shinjuku；　but　this　was　the　far　side；　where　sleazy　streets　were　inhabited　by　all　manner　of　nocturnal　creature；　where　it　was　often　not　safe　to　walk　deep　in　the　night　when　these　creatures　slithered　out　of　their　lairs。　Honno　had　certainly　heard　enough　stories　of　this　section　of　Shinjuku…every　resident　of　Tokyo　had；　she　imagined…but　she　had　never　been　near　it。
　〃Have　no　fear；　Mrs。　Kansei；〃　Fukuda　said；　as　if　reading　her　mind。　〃You　are　with　me。〃　They　stepped　out　onto　the　rainswept　streets。　It　was　now　well　after　midnight。
　There　was　a　scent　Honno　was　not　familiar　with。　It　was　the　stench　of　the　effluvia　of　a　large　city…any　city…where　a　certain　section　of　human　wreckage　congregated：　the　psychologically　halted；　the　emotionally　crippled；　the　perverse　and　the　perverted；　caged；　sent　down；　inhabiting　a　nighttime　netherworld　in　the　bowels　of　the　city。
　The