Kita was headed towards a Russian ship. He showed no signs of noticing what was behind him. Then, when he belatedly noticed the doctor emerging from the taxi, he executed a ninety-degree turn and began to walk away from the ship in the direction of the ferry terminal. The doctor strolled casually along in the same direction. Kita made to go into the terminal building, but then realized it was dark and locked. The doctor silently approached. He came to a halt when he was close enough for them to see each other’s faces.
“What do you want?” Kita’s voice trembled, and his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat from the tension. The doctor kept his eyes on it like a shark.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“You followed me here, didn’t you? What else would you be doing in a place like this?”
The doctor lowered his Boston bag to the concrete terrace, and drew a deep breath through his nose. Kita braced himself and raised both arms to protect himself from the anticipated blow, but the doctor simply stood there blankly in front of him. After a long silence, he spoke.
“Your ice creams will melt.”
“I got them to pack them in dry ice, so they’ll survive for a bit. Well, since there’s nothing you want, I guess I’ll be going. “
“You’d be wise not to go back to the ship.”
The tone was full of certainty. Kita gulped, unable to move. So the guy knew that he and Shinobu were holed up on the Russian ship?
“Yashiro sent you after me, didn’t he. What did he tell you to do with me?”
“He said to save you.”
“So what are you going to do, Mr Okochi?”
“My name isn’t Okochi.”
“Well, then who are you? Why are you here?”
The doctor made no reply, and Kita found himself drawn into the silence, unable to figure it out. He had the feeling something unfortunate would happen if he ignored the doctor and tried to go back to the ship. And he was worried about what was in that Boston bag. The doctor was attuned to Kita’s eyes as they flickered over the bag.
“Want to see inside?” He picked the bag up, and slowly unzipped it.
One look at the bag’s contents and it would become clear who this fellow was, thought Kita. Maybe it contained some horribly cruel instruments of torture. He felt a sudden thrill of terror.
“You bought that ice cream for Shinobu Yoimachi?” the doctor whispered.
A shocking thought occurred to Kita. “Have you killed Shinobu?”
The doctor took from the bag a long, thin metal rod, put one end to his mouth, and blew into it. The next moment, Kita felt a sudden pain in his calf, as though a needle had pierced it.
“Did you think I had Shinobu’s head in this bag?”
A needle with a capsule attached had pierced Kita’s leg. The doctor packed the blowgun back into his bag. “Just the right size for a head,” he murmured. Then he hoisted the bag again, and set off towards the Russian ship.
Astonished, Kita now at last understood that this man was a killer. He pulled the needle out and held it. “What have you done?” he yelled.
“I think you know,” the killer responded. “You’ll be able to die the day after tomorrow. If you don’t like the idea, though, come with me. I’ll give you an injection to reverse the poison. I’ll be waiting right here, so you go on back to the ship now, give Shinobu the ice cream, and say your goodbyes. This is the end of the abduction story. I’ll inform the police. You’ll oblige me by disappearing.”
“Why is this happening?”
“Because you trusted that fellow Yashiro. Whatever happens, you get to die. The only difference is, whose rules do you die by?”
Kita would have liked nothing better than to be able to turn the clock back to last Friday again. He didn’t recall having opened Pandora’s box. His idea had simply been to have some modest fun with his desires, then die quietly and anonymously. Pandora’s box had sprung open quite unasked, unleashing merchants of death into a feeding frenzy on some poor fellow who only wanted to die by choice. All they wanted was to make money out of some fool prepared to sell his life over to them. The day of his death was almost upon him. Kita longed to have just one day of complete freedom before he died.
Did he have no choice but to submit to the doctor’s coercions? Or should he play out the abduction act to the end? The doctor was right. Whichever choice he made, he’d end up dead. The fact was, the only freedom of choice available to him now was his method of dying.
At any rate, he’d deliver the ice cream. He set off toward the waiting ship, and summoned the crew with a cry of “Hey, Bolshoi Ballet!” The gangplank was up, so he couldn’t get back on board unaided. A few moments later, a torch shone down onto his face. Dark figures moved about, and the gangplank was lowered. When Kita arrived on deck, Siberian Electrics was there to greet him, grinning from ear to ear. He immediately began to press Kita to buy a Makarov. Kita shook his head.
“I saw on TV. You need Makarov, of course. Fifty thousand!” said Siberian Electric, and out came a hand like a baseball mitt. Well, thought Kita, it might be wise to have a pistol, just to stop the doctor having his way. There was nothing to prevent him shooting himself, after all. OK, he thought, I’ll buy it, and he tapped Siberian Electric on the shoulder.
Siberian Electric beamed with pleasure, and gripped his hand to shake on the deal. “Yes, yes. The Captain say he want a word with you. Your lover’s in his room. I bring Makarov later.” So saying, he took Kita by the arm and led him to the captain’s cabin.
Shinobu was playing poker with Valkewpin and Lipsikov. She looked up and saw Kita and the ice creams. “Welcome back,” she said, then added with innocent pride, “I’ve won ten thousand! Isn’t that great?”
“Sounds like these guys have discovered about the abduction,” said Kita. “I don’t like the look of things. Look at Valkewpin’s face there. He’s grinning away even though he’s lost. I’d say he plans to make money out of us.”
Sure enough, Valkewpin began to negotiate a deal. They’d had no idea they were sheltering a kidnapper. They were in a quandary. They had to maintain good relations with the police, for the sake of Russia’s trade with Japan. But they understood his position too, of course. Both parties should be able to profit from the situation. The question was, should they report him, or protect him? They couldn’t make up their minds. What was his opinion?
“I didn’t think you Russians would watch Japanese television,” Kita sighed, while beside him Shinobu spat out, “They’re despicable! Let’s get off this ship right now.” She tugged at Kita’s sleeve. But they were faced with a gang of people who didn’t seem likely to let them get away so generously.
“What’s your proposal for protecting us?” Kita asked.
Well, replied Valkewpin, the ship was due to leave tomorrow, so they couldn’t shelter them much longer. Why not just pretend they’d never met? Of course, they would need some hush money… Kita waited for him to continue. They’d had to pay these guys thirty thousand to come on board. How much would it cost to get off again? The answer was a shocking one hundred fifty thousand yen!
“No way,” Kita shot back. “This is pointless. Look, just go ahead and tell the police.”
The price immediately came down to a hundred thousand.
In the end they agreed on one hundred fifty to cover the hush money as well as the cost of their board, plus a Makarov and three hundred grams of caviar. A loaf of black bread and three bottles of vodka were thrown in free of charge. They divided the goods between Kita’s backpack and a carrier bag, and climbed off the ship together, licking their ice creams.