‘Who would be willing to consider leaving the document here?’
Mikami’s question prompted Suwa to look up from his notes. ‘The Times, D Television, also the FM Kenmin. They’ll be okay. I haven’t had the chance to talk with Tomino from the D Daily, but I’m ninety-nine per cent sure they’ll be open to it, too.’
The four local outlets. An easy win for Suwa, Mikami supposed. They would have to ask one of them to raise the motion of submitting the protest to Media Relations. Better still, they could ask them all to make the suggestion together.
‘How about the Yomiuri and the Sankei?’
‘The Yomiuri could go either way. They’re supporting the protest on paper, but they’re also showing signs of jumping if they think the Toyo pushes things too far. The Sankei told me they’re happy to compromise if it means submitting to the Director of Administrative Affairs.’
‘What about the other three?’
‘Right, yes.’ This time it was Kuramae who responded. He was hesitating, Mikami’s earlier outburst having apparently taken its toll. ‘So . . . NHK, the JiJi Press and the Tokyo Shimbun are all opting to wait and see. They are against anonymous reports in principle, but don’t seem particularly concerned about the written protest. They’ll probably side with the majority whatever happens.’
Mikami lit himself a cigarette. He counted the votes in his head. Four for taking the protest to the captain. Four for leaving it with Mikami. Three who were on the fence. One for leaving it with Akama, and one ‘unknown’.
The numbers didn’t look good.
‘Could we get the Sankei to agree to leaving it with Chief Ishii in the Secretariat?’
‘Not easily. They’d end up losing face in front of the others.’
Mikami nodded once before turning to Kuramae.
‘Try the NHK, the Jiji Press and the Tokyo Shimbun one more time. Try to get them on our side by confirming that we suspect the bid-rigging goes all the way to the top.’
‘No problems.’
Mikami turned back to Suwa. ‘I want you to work on the Mainichi. You’re free to tell them that we know Second Division has set its sights on Hakkaku Construction.’
‘Okay. Although, perhaps, with things as they are, it might be easier to try our luck with the Yomiuri.’
‘They’ve run a scoop already.’
Suwa nodded as if to say he’d just remembered. The Yomiuri and the Asahi had both run feature articles concerning the bid-rigging charges. The papers most starved for a story were, respectively, the Mainichi and the Toyo.
‘So you want me to leave the Asahi alone, too?’
‘Exactly. I think pushing them might backfire.’
‘That’s true,’ Suwa conceded, then frowned. ‘I suppose that leaves the Toyo. Are we going to leave them alone, too?’
‘No, I’m going to try and get a meeting with one of their editors.’
The Toyo relaxing its stance was still the ideal scenario. There was Akikawa’s personal influence to consider, along with the fact that the paper was the club’s monthly representative. If the Toyo agreed to leave the protest with Media Relations, it was likely that many of the others – including NHK and the Jiji Press – would follow suit. But Mikami knew the relationship was strained, that Akikawa wasn’t the type to bite the moment a story was dangled before him. No – if they were aiming to get a quick reversal in what little time remained, their only chance was to go straight to Akikawa’s boss and hope for an executive decision.
‘There’s one more thing.’ Mikami lowered his voice to a whisper. He didn’t want Mikumo to overhear. ‘The old man from the accident passed away. I want you to look into the facts. Make sure the Press Club don’t realize what you’re doing until the meeting’s over.’
After a moment to take it in, they nodded quietly. Mikami checked the clock on the wall. It was just gone eleven.
‘Okay, get to it.’
The two men dipped their heads and got to their feet. Mikami also stood. He gave Kuramae’s back a light jab as the man made to walk away.
‘It’s appreciated.’
Sorry I shouted at you. The meaning carried through his words. When Kuramae turned around he was slightly red, and clearly relieved. Mikumo seemed to brighten, too. She stood up from her corner desk, where she’d been hunched at her computer, typing by herself, and walked briskly over to the windows; she flung one open to let in some air. The four of them had to share an office that was cramped and in which they sat at close quarters, and it was easy to feel hemmed in. The slightest altercation or misunderstanding was enough to make it feel suffocating.
Mikami returned to his seat and put in a call to the Toyo’s branch office. By a stroke of luck, Mikio Azusa – the man he’d been hoping to speak to – picked up the phone straight away. They had exchanged business cards at the last round-table meeting, but this was the first time they had really spoken. I’ve got something I want to discuss with you. Could we meet for lunch? Azusa seemed happy to agree. Well disposed to the police – Mikami was pleased that the man’s answer fitted with the impression he had got from the meeting. Hanging up, he saw that Mikumo had joined the others in going out, leaving him alone in the office.
His head suddenly felt clear.
He would meet the editor and buy his allegiance with information on the bid-rigging charges, make sure the protest never reached the captain. He picked up the receiver for a second time. I won’t be back for lunch today. He’d said this on the way to work but decided to check in regardless.
‘Order something from Sogetsuan. You only need to order a couple of portions. If you make one a large, we can heat it up later. I can have it for dinner tonight. All right? Good.’ Mikami directed the conversation, ending the call before his wife had a chance to get anxious.
Mikumo returned holding a kettle.
‘Sir, is everything okay?’
The question had come out of nowhere. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s just that you look pale. Really pale . . .’
‘I’m fine.’
Perhaps in response to the curtness of his reply, Mikumo fell silent; she studied him for a while.
‘Sir, is there . . .’
‘Sorry?’
‘Is there anything else I can help with?’ Her voice was strained.
‘You’re already doing all you can.’
‘But I want to help . . . with the press.’
Mikami kicked the floor so his chair spun a half-circle around. He couldn’t look her straight in the eye. He spoke with his back to her.
‘That won’t be necessary. Please, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.’
18
Mikami left the station at eleven thirty, despite feeling it was still a little early. Azusa had suggested a Western-style diner not far from the Toyo’s office for their meeting.
‘Hey, over here.’