In Japan, adoption of adults is not uncommon. Sometimes when a young man marries into a family with no male heir, he will agree to take his wife’s name for his own in order to continue the wife’s family name. Kabuki actors and woodblock artists also commonly adopt their favorite pupils to pass on their name. Because of this custom, I wasn’t sure of the relationship that Mr. Sekiguchi had with the Sekiguchi-gummi crime family. I didn’t know if he was the founder of this family, some relative of the founder, or someone who had been adopted into the family and taken the Sekiguchi name. My purpose was not the genealogy of Japanese crime families, but still I was curious about how one got to be the head of a Japanese Mafia family. I suspect it involves acts and decisions that are pretty grim.
I thought the lobby was pretty posh, but it was nothing compared to the actual office. Sekiguchi’s office was designed to impress, and with me it did its job. It was a long rectangular room with a high ceiling. You entered at the far end of the rectangle and sitting at the other end, in splendid isolation, was a massive rosewood desk with a couple of black leather chairs set in front of it. The walls on either side of the office were pierced with small alcoves. In the alcoves were pieces of pottery or small Japanese paintings, each illuminated by its own light. These alcove walls were also paneled in rosewood and this, combined with the dark carpet, gave the office the feeling of a somber cathedral.
Sitting behind the desk was a tiny wizened man in a gray suit. On his desk were no papers, so he looked like a small statue set in a sea of wine-colored wood. As I waded through the thick carpet towards the desk, I was reminded of the scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy and her companions are walking in the great hall of the Emerald City to approach the wizard. They’re so in awe that they’re shaking as they walk.
My confidence was strained by having to leave Gary behind and by the obvious wealth and opulence behind the facade of a modest building. This office was designed to achieve an effect, and that effect was intimidation. Because of that, I did something I normally wouldn’t do, especially with a Japanese national I was meeting for the first time. I marched down the length of the office and flopped down into a chair without being invited.
That, of course, was rude, and rudeness is something usually avoided with strangers in Japanese culture. But rudeness is also sometimes used to establish relative social positions. To me, the layout of Sekiguchi’s office, including the long march to his desk, was designed to make you feel like a supplicant, inching your way towards the dais of a shogun. I was ticked off at this man, and my aching head and bruised hip reminded me why I was angry. I wasn’t going to let something like a clever layout of his office beat me down.
Sekiguchi stared at me impassively as I flopped down into the chair. As an American, I suppose he expected me to be too familiar and rude. I wanted him to know that I understood the proper protocol to follow in this meeting and I had chosen to ignore it, but there wasn’t a way to actually say it. The head looking back at me was almost bald, with wisps of silver hair still clinging to the sides. His pate was freckled with brown spots. The eyes were as hard as two black pearls. He was probably in his late sixties, but his bearing was still erect and as stiff as a weathered pine standing on top of a mountainside.
Without a preamble, Sekiguchi spoke. “Because this meeting was arranged on short notice, I can only give you fifteen minutes. Why do you want to speak to me?”
My apprehensions and fears dissolved. I fought to keep from giggling. Not because of nervousness, but because the man behind the desk, the head of the Sekiguchi-gummi crime family, talked like Marlon Brando in The Godfather. He didn’t have a Sicilian accent, but he tended to mumble his words in a low whisper. I don’t know if he always talked this way or if it was an affectation picked up after he saw the movie, but the effect on me was not sinister or menacing at all. It was comical.
I regained my composure and a bit of my cockiness with the unexpected comic relief. “Thank you for your time. I realize this is on short notice and I appreciate you seeing me.”
The man nodded.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked.
“I understand you’re from California and that you’re an American and that you’ve appeared on the Japanese television show News Pop.”
“I was also responsible for getting your son arrested.”
Mr. Sekiguchi stared at me expressionless. I would hate to play poker with him. Trying to get a response from him, I pushed on. “I can see that my involvement with your son’s case could be upsetting. That’s why I wanted to meet with you to talk to you about why you’re trying to harm me.”
Once again he sat silent and motionless. I thought about the two thugs chasing me in Tokyo and my amusement over Mr. Sekiguchi’s Godfatherlike voice disappeared. I forced myself to relax. Showing anger would be showing weakness. I raised my eyebrows slightly and waited.
I had already used up a couple of my allotted fifteen minutes. If Mr. Sekiguchi wanted to sit there in silence for the remaining thirteen minutes, then I was quite content to sit there in silence, too. I wasn’t going to beg or plead with him. I’m not above begging or pleading, it’s just that I figured with this man those tactics wouldn’t work.
Finally, after a silence of several minutes, Mr. Sekiguchi sat back in his chair. Studying me carefully, he said, “What makes you think I want to harm you?”
“Several times now, two men identified by the police as members of the Yakuza have chased me. It’s been the same two men so I know it’s not an accident. Yesterday they caught me in Hibiya Park and roughed me up. Since the only connection I’ve ever had with the Yakuza is through your son, I think their interest in pursuing me is because of what happened between your son and me in California.”
Once again Sekiguchi remained impassive and almost immobile. I reacted by settling back in the chair, as if his silence was an invitation to make myself more at home. Finally, Sekiguchi broke the silence and said, “Toshi is my youngest son and one that I have indulged over the years. I’m afraid that does not make me a very good father. I sent him to school in the United States and helped set him up in business in California in the hope that the new climate and responsibility would help him to grow up.
“Like every Japanese father, I’m very concerned about my children. But in the case of what happened in California, Toshi made several mistakes and he must pay for them. I don’t view the punishment he’ll receive as something which must be paid because he has done wrong. In my view he has not done wrong. But he made many mistakes and those mistakes can be serious. In the life we have chosen, if a man is to be a leader, he must be careful and he must be thoughtful. Perhaps because I have indulged him, Toshi is not very careful and sometimes he is not very thoughtful.
“The time he will spend in an American prison will allow him to grow more reflective and more serious about his life and about our business. Our California lawyers tell me that he’ll not be in prison for a very long time. Actually quite less than the five years he spent graduating from USC. I think the education he will get from getting caught because he was careless will be much more valuable than the time he spent in college.
“Because of these feelings I have no personal grudge against you and do not wish you harmed. In fact, until this interview, I did not know who you were or what your involvement was with my son. I don’t know why other Yakuza would want to chase you, but whatever the reason, it has nothing to do with the Sekiguchi-gummi.”
He sat back in his chair and his hand disappeared under the desktop. For a brief second I thought he had set me up so that he could reach under the desk for a gun or some other weapon, but when the secretary popped through the door behind me a few seconds later, I realized he had simply reached for some kind of hidden buzzer to summon her. I knew the interview was over and stood up.