The Name of the Game is a Kidnapping
Title Page
Copyright
GAME NO NA HA YUKAI © Keigo Higashino 2002.
All rights reserved.
First published in Japan in 2002 by Kobunsha Co., Ltd., Tokyo.
English translation rights in North America arranged with Kobunsha
Co., Ltd., Tokyo through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo
Published by Vertical, Inc., New York, 2017
Ebook ISBN 9781942993841
First Edition
Vertical, Inc.
451 Park Avenue South, 7th Floor
New York, NY 10016
www.vertical-inc.com
v4.1
a
Chapter 1
The moment she mentioned the word “marriage,” I lost interest in the woman. I could only see her large chest, her slim legs, and even her smooth skin as the parts of a mannequin.
I gave her an unamused look and then got out of bed. I put on my boxers that I had tossed aside and fixed my rumpled hair while looking in the mirror.
“What’s with that face?” The woman raised herself halfway up, flipping her long hair. “You don’t have to be so blunt and make such a sour face.”
I wasn’t even in the mood to reply. I looked at the alarm clock. Five minutes before eight in the morning. Just the right time. I switched off the alarm that would’ve gone off in five minutes.
“I’m already twenty-seven, okay?” the woman added. “You could stand to listen to a little of that.”
“I told you I’ve never thought about marriage,” I said with my back still facing her.
“You said you don’t think about it a lot. Not that you never think about it.”
“Is that right.”
I thought it might be this way, but when I see through something, I get bored. I started doing pushups by the bed. I was careful about the rhythm, and when I flexed, I exhaled. Just like my gym instructor told me.
“Hey, are you mad?”
I didn’t answer. I’d lose count of my pushups. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, then it got a little harder.
“Then let me ask, what do you plan on doing with me?”
I went down on the forty-second pushup. I rolled on the floor like that and thrust both my legs under the bed. Setup for sit-ups.
“I didn’t really have any plans. I liked you. I thought I wanted to sleep with you. So I did. That’s all there is to it.”
“Meaning that you weren’t thinking of marriage.”
“I thought I told you from the start. I wasn’t thinking about anything like that. Unlike you, I wasn’t thinking about it at all, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
“And if I say that I don’t like that?”
“It’s useless. You’ll need to find a guy who’ll think about marriage. It should be easy for you to find one.”
“You’re saying you’re tired of me?”
“It’s not that. We’ve only been dating for three months. But when there’s a difference in opinion, you can only give up.”
The woman sunk into silence. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She was a woman with a lot of pride, so she wouldn’t say anything unbecoming. While she was thinking, I started my sit-ups. Since turning thirty, it’d become easier for my belly to put on fat. I couldn’t get away with not doing this every morning.
The woman said, “I’m going home,” and got down from the bed. It was pretty much the answer I’d predicted.
While I did sit-ups, she put on her clothes. A black dress. Without fixing her makeup, she took her bag in hand.
“You’re not getting any calls from me.”
With those words, she left the room. I’d heard her voice still on my side by the bed.
She had a magnificent body, but it couldn’t be helped. It was true I was struck by that physique, but I didn’t feel like living with her for a lifetime. Of course, I could have used the technique of hinting at marriage as appropriate to keep dating her. Then, if the time came that I’d actually gotten bored, I’d just have to talk about breaking up. But doing it like that didn’t suit me. It wasn’t because it’d be on my conscience, but because it’d be a bother. I’d been in more romantic relationships than I could count now, including ones that were sustained through accumulating lies and compromises, but I knew deep down that it would do me no good.
By the time I’d taken a shower and shaved at the washbasin, I was no longer thinking about the woman who had left. Instead, the names of two others floated into my head. One was a model in the making, the other was just an office lady. I knew the phone numbers for both of them, but I’d never called them. I’d gotten a call from the model. The one I liked was really the office lady, but when we went out drinking before, I got the feeling that there wasn’t a lot of hope. I couldn’t find it in myself to do this and that and everything possible to woo her. I didn’t think she was worth it, and more importantly, I didn’t have the time.
I fried some ham and eggs, toasted bread, and warmed up canned soup for my breakfast. Lately, I was lacking vegetables. There had to be some cauliflower in the refrigerator so I decided I’d have a gratin with a lot of that in it tonight.
Changing into my suit, I booted up my computer and checked my email. Several items dealing with work. The rest of it was all trivial stuff. There was one from a hostess at a club I went to the other day. I deleted it without reading it.
By the time I left the room, it was a little past nine. That meant I’d taken more than an hour since waking up. I still had a long way to go using my time wisely. I walked at a brisk pace to the subway station. It took seven minutes.
My work was in Minato Ward. The ninth and tenth floors of a fifteen-story building were occupied by Cyberplan. I got off the elevator at the tenth floor.
When I got to my desk, a piece of paper that said, “Come to my office –Kozuka,” was on my computer. I put down my bag and headed on down the hallway.
The president’s office door had been left open. When it was closed, you weren’t to try to meet with the president except on very urgent business. If it was open, it meant that you could go in freely. It was Kozuka’s policy.
Kozuka was in the midst of discussing something with a female employee. When he noticed me, he cut off the conversation.
“I’ll leave the rest to you. Anyway, don’t use that designer anymore,” Kozuka told the woman. She answered that she understood and left the room. When she passed by me, she gave me a slight bow.
“If I’m not mistaken, she’s in charge of producing a new game.”
“Well, games are hard.” Kozuka closed a file that had been laid out on his desk. “Please close the door.”
It seemed he was preparing for a discussion about either a large amount of easy money or something serious. I closed the door and approached his desk.
“We got word from Nissei Automobile,” the forty-five-year-old president said.
“They finally made a decision? Then we need arrangements for the first set of meetings. I can make an opening any time this week.”
However, Kozuka remained seated with a long look. “That’s not it.”
“This isn’t about the automobile park?”
“It is.”
“Then, do you mean that it’ll take some time before the decision is made?”
“No, the decision has been made. I just got word.”
“Then?”
“It’s been canceled.”
“What?” Unable to comprehend his statement, I took a step toward him. No, I understood the meaning of it. It was just so idiotic that I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.