quickly than he would have imagined. He blew his nose once more.
‘No, no idea at all.’
'And Mr Yamada... There's nothing you can tell us about him?'
'No nothing. Not really.'
Mori sighed and felt as empty handed as he had the evening before.
7 - In which a scandal is unveiled
Friday 31st December 9:30am
‘You don’t look so good Kinjo. Anything the matter? Are you ill?’ Hiro Watanabe slapped his number two on the back, in a manner soaked in over-indulgent bonne-homme.
Kinjo looked flushed – more so than usual.
'I'm fine, fine. Just a cold coming on, I think,’ he mumbled from within his briefcase.
Watanabe looked around the group. 'Where's Ito san?'
'She phoned in earlier… said she was ill… sent her apologies.' Kinjo took out a wad of papers which he placed on the table.
'Oh really? She seemed okay yesterday. Anything serious?'
'Chicken Pox she said. Doctor's put her in quarantine... said she'd send the sick note through to us...'
But Watanabe was no longer listening. He didn’t like Ito anyway. 'Okay, then. We're all here,' he said looking around the group once more and pulling his chair up to the table. He was however, grateful that the banal chit-chat had once again helped him to shift into a more confident and focussed direction. 'Let's get on, this is an important meeting and the Ryozo are due here in a few minutes.’
A minor discussion took place reminding all of the overall strategy and ensuring that all points of view were taken in. Watanabe was satisfied at what he was hearing and beamed in pleasure at his colleagues around him. He could feel everything coming together nicely.
Nothing, it seemed, could stop him now – not even a strangled, dead women in Kamioka – or at least, that is what he believed.
Ten minutes later The Ryozo group, headed by their Chairman Matsuhiro Shimizu, filed wordlessly into the room and sat stern-faced around the table. Equally as stern-faced sat Watanabe and his faction chiefs. This was no convivial meeting between firm friends and mature allies but the first tentative forays into un-mapped territory. It appeared that no ground would be gained or given easily. The stakes were too high for either side to allow events to get away from them, but both sides knew that their future, quite possibly, might lie together.
Each man had a glass of water to hand, sitting on a lace doily and a few rice crackers had been placed in the middle of the table. Without exception these meagre refreshments remained untouched until that is the leaders lead by example, after which the rest of the men gradually followed suit, took hesitant sips of their water and munched surreptitiously on the rice crackers. There was still a great deal of strain in the room with neither side wanting to stray too far from strict protocol. Watanabe glanced across to Kinjo who looked nervously back, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Watanabe had more important matters on his mind than the lack of composure in his colleague and so, for the moment, let this brief lapse in equanimity slide. Later he would regret not picking up on these tell-tale signs a lot earlier – something was not quite right.
‘I think we all know the reason why we are here,’ began Watanabe clearly. ‘The time has come for us to forge a new Japan – together. One based on truth, openness and honesty.’
There were murmurs of agreement around the table. Shimizu however, pursed his lips and looked doubtful. If his look was designed to throw Watanabe off his stride, it didn’t. ‘I’m sure that we can agree on some common goals and common ground,’ continued Watanabe. ‘I’m sure we can stand united together and shift Japanese politics into a new and more effective era. Now-,’ he said, reaching to his left where his hand rested on a folder of documents and from which he pulled out a wad of typed papers and distributed them around
‘No, no idea at all.’
'And Mr Yamada... There's nothing you can tell us about him?'
'No nothing. Not really.'
Mori sighed and felt as empty handed as he had the evening before.
7 - In which a scandal is unveiled
Friday 31st December 9:30am
‘You don’t look so good Kinjo. Anything the matter? Are you ill?’ Hiro Watanabe slapped his number two on the back, in a manner soaked in over-indulgent bonne-homme.
Kinjo looked flushed – more so than usual.
'I'm fine, fine. Just a cold coming on, I think,’ he mumbled from within his briefcase.
Watanabe looked around the group. 'Where's Ito san?'
'She phoned in earlier… said she was ill… sent her apologies.' Kinjo took out a wad of papers which he placed on the table.
'Oh really? She seemed okay yesterday. Anything serious?'
'Chicken Pox she said. Doctor's put her in quarantine... said she'd send the sick note through to us...'
But Watanabe was no longer listening. He didn’t like Ito anyway. 'Okay, then. We're all here,' he said looking around the group once more and pulling his chair up to the table. He was however, grateful that the banal chit-chat had once again helped him to shift into a more confident and focussed direction. 'Let's get on, this is an important meeting and the Ryozo are due here in a few minutes.’
A minor discussion took place reminding all of the overall strategy and ensuring that all points of view were taken in. Watanabe was satisfied at what he was hearing and beamed in pleasure at his colleagues around him. He could feel everything coming together nicely.
Nothing, it seemed, could stop him now – not even a strangled, dead women in Kamioka – or at least, that is what he believed.
Ten minutes later The Ryozo group, headed by their Chairman Matsuhiro Shimizu, filed wordlessly into the room and sat stern-faced around the table. Equally as stern-faced sat Watanabe and his faction chiefs. This was no convivial meeting between firm friends and mature allies but the first tentative forays into un-mapped territory. It appeared that no ground would be gained or given easily. The stakes were too high for either side to allow events to get away from them, but both sides knew that their future, quite possibly, might lie together.
Each man had a glass of water to hand, sitting on a lace doily and a few rice crackers had been placed in the middle of the table. Without exception these meagre refreshments remained untouched until that is the leaders lead by example, after which the rest of the men gradually followed suit, took hesitant sips of their water and munched surreptitiously on the rice crackers. There was still a great deal of strain in the room with neither side wanting to stray too far from strict protocol. Watanabe glanced across to Kinjo who looked nervously back, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Watanabe had more important matters on his mind than the lack of composure in his colleague and so, for the moment, let this brief lapse in equanimity slide. Later he would regret not picking up on these tell-tale signs a lot earlier – something was not quite right.
‘I think we all know the reason why we are here,’ began Watanabe clearly. ‘The time has come for us to forge a new Japan – together. One based on truth, openness and honesty.’
There were murmurs of agreement around the table. Shimizu however, pursed his lips and looked doubtful. If his look was designed to throw Watanabe off his stride, it didn’t. ‘I’m sure that we can agree on some common goals and common ground,’ continued Watanabe. ‘I’m sure we can stand united together and shift Japanese politics into a new and more effective era. Now-,’ he said, reaching to his left where his hand rested on a folder of documents and from which he pulled out a wad of typed papers and distributed them around
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