Paprika (16 page)

He didn’t seem very keen to talk about it. Shima was a person who, deep down, found it hard to cope with the intricacies of human relationships.

“I know you don’t like talking about this kind of thing,” Atsuko said in a tone of regret. “But I have to ask your advice about remedial measures.”

“Yes. Of course. First Tsumura was affected, then your assistant Kakimoto. Inui and the other directors must surely have heard about it.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Nobue Kakimoto had started to behave violently, and had been confined to an isolation unit in the hospital. Atsuko inevitably had to accept some of the responsibility, since Nobue was her assistant. She would almost certainly face charges of professional negligence at the next Board Meeting.

“Have you contacted her family?”

“Well …” Her conscience pricked, Atsuko cast her eyes down. “I didn’t mention any illness, as I’m sure it’s only temporary. I just told them she’s suffering from fatigue and we’re giving her time to recuperate.”

Nobue lived alone in a sleepy Tokyo suburb; her family home was in Aomori, far to the north.

Atsuko lifted her head. “I’ll treat her myself,” she said. “I think she’ll recover quickly.”

“I’ll leave it to you then,” Shima said with an imploring look in his eyes. “I couldn’t bear to think of them criticizing you like that.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be cured.” Atsuko realized she would have to analyze the memory images accumulated in Nobue’s reflector. She would ask Tokita to do it immediately. “And another thing, President Shima. About Yamabe’s successor as auditor.”

“Ah yes. The matter that was entrusted to Inui.”

“I think auditors should be elected by the President. I just can’t trust Inui.”

“Hmm.” Shima’s forehead was etched with deep vertical lines. “Not only does he want me to resign as President, but he’s even trying to hound you and Tokita out of the Institute. I just don’t understand it. What could be his aim? And at this of all times – a critical time for the Institute, when you two have a chance of winning the Nobel Prize!”

“Doctor Shima.” Atsuko leant toward Shima’s face. “You know Inui was once shortlisted for the Nobel Prize?”

“I do. Though it was nearly twenty years ago. He’d discovered a very effective method of treating a certain psychosomatic disorder that had grown to pandemic proportions at the time. For that, he was apparently shortlisted for the Prize. But the medical world in those days had little understanding of psychiatry. In the end, the Prize went to a British surgeon who’d incorporated Inui’s method into his theory …” Even as he spoke, the true purpose of Atsuko’s inquiry started to dawn on him. “That’s right! Ever since then, Inui has become increasingly stubborn. Unduly intolerant of others, in particular. Obsessive about justice, doctors’ ethics, the virtues of science …” Shima had been almost recumbent on the sofa, but now sat bolt upright. “And this tendency has become all the more pronounced of late. Yes, it must have been sparked by the rumor that you and Tokita were up for the Prize!” Shima’s eyes widened with astonishment at the import of his own words.

It was just as Atsuko had already imagined. She moved her face even closer to Shima’s. “This fanatical sense of justice is very dangerous,” she said, as if to sow the seeds of doubt in his mind. She was well aware of the effect her good looks and Poison perfume would have on him from close quarters. “What’s worse, he’s now suppressing his own jealousy. You must realize how warped his personality has become.”

“I do. I do.” Shima nodded twice, thrice as he replied, returning Atsuko’s gaze with the hollow eyes of a hypnotee. “He’s begun to look like the Devil recently, hasn’t he?”

“Tokita only purchased a very small lot of LSIs from Giken. So why did Katsuragi refer to it as ‘an abnormally large quantity’? There’s something improper going on here.”

“I see. I see.” After nodding again with the same hollow look, Shima suddenly lifted his head. “So you mean … Katsuragi too?”

“It’s a conspiracy, of course. The purpose being to ensnare Tokita. We need to have the books looked over by an auditor we can trust.”

Shima was immersed in thought.

Atsuko felt a twinge of remorse for sowing suspicions that so greatly troubled her well-meaning boss, a man whose mind was usually so tranquil. She decided to introduce a note of positive enthusiasm. “It’s clear there’s a conspiracy. Both Tsumura and Kakimoto have fallen victim to it. I think someone’s been tampering with the reflectors or collectors. Actually, I’m already looking into it.” She placed her hand on Shima’s thigh. “Doctor Shima. Will you fight this with me?”

“Yes. Of course. Of course.” Shima stood and started walking uncertainly toward the window. His mind appeared to be elsewhere. “Let’s think what we can do. Yes. Let’s think what we can do.”

Shima continued to repeat meaningless utterances as he gazed out of the window. Atsuko performed a bow toward his back. “Good. Then let’s call it a day for now. I’ll report anything as soon as I hear it.”

“Right. Right.”

Shima turned and nodded, smiling faintly, then started walking toward the small room at the back of his office. In the room was a little bed he used for naps. He would curl up on it for a snooze whenever he felt tired by his work, or when he wanted to escape from something unpleasant. It was an infantile habit, but at the same time a reliable method of tranquilization. And it seemed to suit his disposition perfectly, even on a logical level.

In Atsuko’s opinion, Shima’s meek personality made him less than reliable as an ally. She renewed her resolve to fight as she walked along the short connecting passage toward the hospital. She had merely succeeded in confirming that Shima would provide little in the way of firm support.

Atsuko went to the end of the passage and took the elevator to the fifth floor. Before she could reach the nurses’ station opposite the elevator hall, the senior nurse from the fifth floor approached her with a challenge.

“Doctor Chiba?”

“Ah. Senior Nurse Sayama. I’ve come to examine Nobue Kakimoto.”

“Oh …” The slightly plump, pale-skinned senior nurse gave Atsuko a perplexed look. “But Doctor Osanai said I wasn’t to let anyone see her …”

“Visitors, you mean?”

“No. Other doctors too.”

Atsuko was stunned. “What’s the meaning of this? Who decided that Osanai would be in charge of her?”

“Well … Doctor Osanai is responsible for this floor, after all.”

In the confusion caused by Nobue’s raving, Atsuko had carelessly admitted her to a ward on the fifth floor. That was clearly a mistake. The whole thing had obviously been planned that way from the beginning.

“Well, anyway, Kakimoto is my assistant, so it’s my responsibility to examine her.”

“Oh dear …” Sayama blushed and looked as though she were about to cry. She was a good-looking woman, about two or three years older than Atsuko. The motive for her resistance was not hard to discern; even Atsuko had heard rumors of a scandalously licentious relationship between Osanai and Sayama.

“Surely you must know? I’m authorized to examine all patients in this hospital.”

“Yes, I do know that, but Doctor Osanai said this time was an exception. He said Kakimoto’s symptoms would actually get worse if she saw you in particular.”

Ah. This was Osanai’s ploy to convince the nurses that Atsuko was responsible for Nobue’s derangement. Atsuko was overcome with a rage that made her head reel, but remained as composed as ever. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she said with a smile. “Miss Kakimoto’s condition has nothing at all to do with me. But never mind. I’ll call Osanai directly. Let me use your phone.”

Osanai was not in his research lab.
Good
, thought Atsuko as she replaced the receiver. Arguing with him over the phone in front of Sayama, not to mention the four other nurses who were eavesdropping, would only further compromise Atsuko’s authority in the hospital.

Atsuko returned to the Institute building and went straight to Tokita’s lab. As she walked, she started to entertain doubts about her own behavior. She was beginning to neglect her research in pursuit of fame and honor, choosing to dabble in office politics instead of doing her job. Atsuko smiled grimly as she realized that Inui may have been right to criticize her.
At least I can still afford to smile
, she thought as she walked through the open door to Tokita’s lab. There, she would meet a situation that would make a smile even harder to afford.

There was no sign of Himuro in the anteroom. Cases and boxes were scattered around the room; monitor screens continued to flicker. Custom chips of various types were strewn all over the floor. It looked as if someone had been frantically searching for something, or as if there had been some kind of fight. The internal door was also open. Atsuko entered to find Tokita slumped in a chair, breathing heavily with his hair madly disheveled. His room was in the same chaotic state as the anteroom.

“What happened?” Atsuko asked with a sense of foreboding. She hardly dared hear the answer.

“The DC Minis. They’re gone.” Atsuko saw Tokita’s bloodshot eyes for the first time. The terrible state of the room must have been his own doing.

“They’ve been stolen!” Atsuko cried. “They must have been. You won’t find them here now. How many were there?”

“Five. No, six. One disappeared some time ago.”

“You made six? And they’re all gone?”

Tokita nodded weakly.

“What are we going to do?!” cried Atsuko. She heard herself using that clingy, whining tone that women often use when asking something of a man, a tone she abhorred more than anything. But she couldn’t help it. “Where’s Himuro?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen him since I arrived this morning. Can’t find him anywhere.” Tokita looked up at Atsuko with an expression suggesting that he’d more or less abandoned hope already. “He’s disappeared.”

17

At the Board Meeting that morning, Sukenobu had proposed that Namba be made Manager of the Third Sales Division, with responsibility for the zero-emissions vehicle. All the senior executives bar Noda had agreed, and Noda had returned to his office with a heavy heart. The President had instructed Noda, as Namba’s direct superior, to deliver the bad news. Noda was sure Namba wouldn’t take it lying down.

Ah, so this was Sukenobu’s revenge
, Noda thought as he looked out of his window onto the sun-drenched streets below. He gave a wry smile. It was certainly a token revenge, enough for Sukenobu to feel some self-satisfaction. At the meeting, Sukenobu had cunningly presented the proposal to make the President’s nephew Manager of the Development Office,
as if it had been his own idea
. All in attendance had summarily approved Sukenobu’s next proposal to transfer Namba, a man whose nature made him utterly unsuited to sales. To Noda, the total acquiescence of the Board suggested that Sukenobu had been maneuvering beforehand. The fact that Noda hadn’t even been consulted was typical of Sukenobu. To his infantile mind, even taking a rival by surprise could constitute a sort of revenge.

Only Sukenobu knew that Noda could not oppose the transfer, for it was Noda himself who’d first suggested making Kinichi Manager of the Development Office. And the President would have remembered that very well. The President himself was only too delighted to let his nephew serve in that role, and didn’t appear overly concerned with Noda’s misgivings about how Namba would react.

Serves him right
, thought Noda. Namba had brought it on himself. At the same time, Noda regretted having been so hasty in launching his counterattack, without thought for the consequences, the sole purpose being to parry Sukenobu’s offensive. But Noda had suggested the change in the sure knowledge that the President’s nephew would sooner or later be sent to the front line of production, and that Namba would eventually lose his place in the Development Department. What’s more, he firmly believed that it signaled positive progress for the company. There were several other departments where Namba could manifest his talents.

Even so, Noda hadn’t thought of making him Manager of Sales!
Sukenobu must have hatched that one
, he thought. The Manager of the Development Office was equal in rank to a Deputy Manager, so it was actually a promotion for Namba. Sukenobu and the rest must have been saying, “
You’ve developed the zero-emissions vehicle, now go and sell it! And you’ve got your promotion, so what are you moaning about?!
” Brilliant! After all, Namba had already made quite a nuisance of himself with his ideas about selling the vehicle. As he looked down on the streets below, Noda smiled and shook his head a number of times.

Noda thought back to the dream he’d had a few days earlier. In the dream, Namba had been selling vegetables. That must have been a premonition that Namba would be transferred to sales. Noda had been concerned about how Sukenobu would strike back, and just as Paprika had said, the solution had appeared in the dream. If Namba had actually grown the vegetables he was selling in the dream, then the dream had even presented the solution – that Namba should be put in charge of selling the zero-emissions vehicle.

Noda suddenly straightened his back and laughed aloud. The code name for the zero-emissions vehicle was “The Vegetable.” He gasped in amazement and shook his head again. The strange power of dreams, the mysterious working of the subconscious had finally come home to him.