His first move had been to launch an offensive on Criminal Investigations. He needed case information, something he could use as a bargaining chip. In dealing with the press, he understood that raw intel was the only real weapon he had at his disposal. He would confront them armed. He would build a mature relationship where each side kept the other in check. Administrative Affairs would come to interfere less and less, and they could finally break free from that three-sided impasse. In this way, Mikami had outlined his schedule for reform.
The wall which Criminal Investigations – the self-acknowledged bull of the field divisions – had erected to protect itself had been substantial. The same was true of Second Division, Mikami’s home for many years, but it was First Division’s unwillingness to talk that had, he had to admit, been the most formidable. He had taken to making a daily pilgrimage to each of the divisions during lunch, circling the axis of First Division, striking up conversations with managers to get a feel for any investigations in progress. Outside work he leveraged his personal network to make contact with mid-level detectives. He waited for public holidays and days off, then showed up outside their apartments bearing small gifts. He bypassed politics and gave it to them straight. As he made the rounds, he told them he needed intel so he could stand up to the press.
He had kept his second motivation hidden. He’d been looking towards the future. If he was to return to Criminal Investigations in two years’ time, it would be with a ‘second offensive’. He had to make sure, during his time as press director, that no one in the department came to view him as an outsider. For better or for worse, he needed to keep them informed of what he was doing in Media Relations; it was a necessary preparation for his return.
His ‘pilgrimages’ continued for two, three months. While he gained little of actual substance, a second and secretly hoped-for reaction began to surface. What he was doing was unusual for a press director and had caught the attention of the media; the effect was far from insignificant. They had started to pay attention. There were noticeable changes in the way they saw him. He was unique, working for now in Media Relations, but a man whose true home was in Second Division. In a few years he could be in a position of importance in Criminal Investigations, and for this reason the press had treated him with a certain deference from the outset, opting to wait and see. It was as true then as ever that Criminal Investigations was the most crucial source of information for the press. And Mikami’s pilgrimages emphasized the ‘proximity’ between Criminal Investigations and Media Relations. Reporters approached him in increasing numbers. It was the first time the press had voluntarily shown up without an explicit invitation.
Mikami had seized the opportunity, and begun his plan of building up their expectations. He put to use what little information he had, plying it to maximum effect. Speaking to the papers individually, he used indirect phrasing and subtle changes in expression to lay down the scent of cases in progress. He made his presence known by keeping the press close, constructing a solid basis for their interaction, transforming the image of a weak press director. At the same time, he’d been careful not to let them get too comfortable around him. Whenever someone came in to kill time, he remained impassive and played up his stern image. He stood firm, and was quick to shut down superficial criticisms levelled against the police. At the same time, he displayed a willingness to listen to considered arguments. When they wanted to negotiate he gave them all the time they needed. He never sought to ingratiate himself with them, yet allowed for certain concessions when necessary. It had been going well. Mikami had eliminated the imbalance of power that had been to their absolute advantage, and yet they showed no signs of annoyance. They were always hungry for more information. The police were hungry only for good publicity. It was a relationship of convenience, with each side in a different corner, but it was possible nonetheless to find a common ground; all that was necessary was to bring a little trust to those face-to-face moments. The framework for Mikami’s vision for Media Relations had continued to come together until Mikami had become convinced his plan was working.
His bête noire turned out to be the director of Administrative Affairs. Mikami had expected an improved relationship with the press to result in less interference, but his prediction had been far from the mark. Akama had become annoyed with Mikami’s management of the office, and started to express his reservations at every opportunity. He began to criticize Mikami for his ‘defeatist’ compromises, bemoaning his liaisons with Criminal Investigations as a stubborn unwillingness to move on. Mikami couldn’t understand it. Akama had wanted a strong press director; Mikami had been sure Akama had taken into account his former connection to Criminal Investigations. He had used this leverage to the best of his ability. And it was bringing results. What problem could Akama have? His decision made, Mikami approached Akama directly. He argued the importance of using his access to case information as a tool for more diplomatic dealings with the press. He hadn’t been able to believe Akama’s response.
‘Just let it go, Mikami. If we allow you access to that kind of information there’s always a chance you could leak it to the press. You can hardly say anything if you don’t know anything. Right?’
Mikami had been stunned. Akama had wanted a stone-faced scarecrow. Don’t act, don’t think. Just stare with that fierce look of yours. Akama might as well have told him that. Media Control, not Media Relations. A genuine hatred for the press. He’d been warped beyond anything Mikami had feared.
Mikami had been unwilling just to give up. Blind obedience to Akama would set Media Relations back twenty years. His reforms were finally in motion – he just needed to push them forward. It was too late to let them come to nothing. The ferocity of his own reaction had amazed him. No doubt it was because he’d felt the breeze of the outside world on his skin. He had learned to see things he’d never even thought of as a detective. It was as if there were a towering wall separating the police from the general public and Media Relations was the only window even close to opening outwards. It didn’t matter how narrow-minded or self-important the press were: if that window was shut from the inside, the police would be completely disconnected from the other side.