Out Read online

  It said that early that morning a park maintenance worker had found a plastic bag containing parts of a human body in a trash can. A police search had turned up a total of fifteen bags from other trash containers, all filled with parts of the body of an adult male. That was all it said, but from the location and the number of bags it was obvious that it was the share she'd made Kuniko take with her. She'd simply dumped them in the trash cans in the park. It had been a big mistake to drag that woman into this; she had never trusted her, so why had she given her such an important assignment? Masako sat chewing at her fingernails - an old habit she thought she'd broken - blaming herself for the whole mess.

  Now that they'd found the bags, it was just a matter of time before they identified the body as Kenji's. There was no way to undo what she'd done, but she probably still needed to warn Kuniko to avoid any more mistakes - maybe even threaten her. But before she did this, she ought to let Yoshie know what had happened. Yoshie was probably planning to go to work again today, so she had to get to her soon. Masako and the others usually took off the Friday night to Saturday morning shift instead of Sunday, because the pay was ten per cent higher for working Sunday. But Yoshie usually worked Saturday as well, needing the extra money.

  -

  Almost as soon as Masako rang the yellowed plastic bell, Yoshie's door opened with a harsh creak.

  'Oh, hello,' Yoshie said, her face appearing through a cloud of steam. She must be making soup, Masako thought, sniffing the smell of broth mixed with the faint hint of cleanser that always seemed to linger in Yoshie's house.

  'Can you come out a minute, Skipper?' she whispered. She could see Miki sitting in the tiny room just beyond the entrance hall, clutching her knees like a child as she stared at a cartoon on the TV. She never turned to look at the visitor.

  'Sure,' said Yoshie. 'Why?' Seeming to realise something had happened, her face had gone pale. Masako noticed how bone-tired she looked. Turning away, she took a step back and waited for Yoshie to join her outside.

  The tiny area next to the door had been planted with vegetables, and Masako stared curiously at the bright red tomatoes hanging heavily from the vines.

  'Sorry,' said Yoshie, coming up behind her a moment later. 'What's so interesting?'

  'Your tomatoes. You've got a real green thumb.'

  'If I had the space, I've often thought I'd like to grow my own rice,' she said, laughing as she surveyed the little patch of garden tucked under the eaves. 'I get kind of sick of them, but tomatoes do seem to like it here. They're incredibly sweet. Take some with you.' She twisted a particularly large one off the vine and put it on Masako's outstretched palm. Masako stood looking at it for a second, thinking how plump and healthy it seemed, despite having been grown next to this run-down house by this run-down woman. 'So what's up?' Yoshie said, looking at her expectantly.

  'Have you seen the evening paper?' Masako asked, turning toward her.

  'We don't get a paper,' she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

  'Oh? They found some of the bags in Koganei Park.'

  'Koganei Park? Those aren't mine!' she blurted out.

  'I know. It must be Kuniko. Anyway, the police showed up at Yayoi's house because she's reported Kenji missing.'

  'Do they already know it's him?'

  'Not yet,' said Masako. Yoshie looked worried, and the rings under her eyes were even more pronounced than they'd been the last time she'd seen her at the factory.

  'What'll we do?' There was a hint of panic in her voice. 'They'll find out.'

  'They're bound to find out it's him,' Masako agreed.

  'So what should we do?'

  'Were you planning to go to work?'

  'I was,' said Yoshie, sounding ambivalent. 'But I'm not sure I want to be the only one there tonight.'

  'You should go,' Masako told her. 'We need to go on acting as if nothing's happened. Do you think anyone knows you came over to my house that day?' Yoshie thought for a moment before shaking her head emphatically. 'Well, we have to keep that from coming out. I'm sure they're going to suspect Yayoi, so we have to make sure they don't find out she and Kenji were having problems, or that he hit her. If they do, we'll all end up like this,' she added, pressing her wrists together as though they were handcuffed.

  'I know,' Yoshie gulped, eyeing her bony arms. Just then, a tiny boy tottered up and wrapped himself around Yoshie's ankles.

  'Granny,' the thin child murmured as he clutched at the worn knees of her pants. He had apparently followed her out of the house wearing nothing but a diaper.

  'Who's this?' Masako asked.

  'My grandchild,' said Yoshie uncomfortably. She grabbed the boy's hand to keep him from running off.

  'You've got a grandchild? This is the first I've heard of it.' She rubbed the boy's head, hiding her surprise. As her fingers ran through the soft hair, she remembered how Nobuki's hair had felt long ago.

  'I've never told you, but I have another daughter. It's hers.'

  'Are you looking after him?'

  'Yes,' she sighed, looking down at the child. He was reaching up for the tomato that Masako was still holding. When she handed it to him, he sniffed at the red skin for a moment and then rubbed it against his cheek.

  'Sweet,' Masako whispered as she watched him.

  'You know,' Yoshie said, 'after what's happened, having him here is almost more than I can take.'

  'It's always hard when they're this small. He's still in diapers, right?'

  'I've got two to change now,' Yoshie laughed, the weight of this human custody showing in her eyes. Masako looked at her for a moment longer.

  'Okay. If something else comes up, I'll drop by.'

  'Masako,' she said, stopping her as she was about to go. 'What did you do with the head?' Her voice was barely audible, as if she were afraid even to let the child hear. The boy, however, was paying no attention as he studied the tomato held carefully in his outstretched hands. Masako glanced around before answering.

  'I buried it the next day. It should be okay.'

  'Where did you go?'

  'It's better if you don't know,' she said, turning to walk back to her car which she'd left parked at the end of the alley. She had decided not to tell her about Kuniko's attempt to blackmail Yayoi, or about the insurance money. There was no point in worrying her any more, she told herself. But the truth was, Masako didn't really trust anyone now.

  She could hear a horn tooting somewhere nearby, the sound tofu trucks use to advertise their wares, and, through the open windows around her, the sound of dishes rattling and televisions blaring. It was the hour when the women of the city bustled around their kitchens. Masako thought of her own neat, empty kitchen and her bathroom where the deed had been done. It occurred to her that lately she felt more at home in a dry, scoured bathroom than a busy, homey kitchen.

  -

  She used the map she kept in the car to locate Kuniko's apartment complex in the neighbouring town of Kodaira. The rows of ageing wooden mailboxes lining the entrance to the building were decorated with scraps of children's stickers and hastily plastered signs forbidding advertisers to leave pornographic leaflets. The names of the current occupants seemed to be written over those of previous tenants, suggesting the building had a high turnover rate. In some cases, they hadn't even bothered with a new nameplate, simply crossing out the old name with a stroke of a marker pen and writing in the new one next to it. Checking the boxes, Masako found that Kuniko lived on the fifth floor.

  She rode up in an elevator that was nearly as derelict as the mailboxes, and stood at Kuniko's door. She buzzed the intercom but there was no answer. Since her car was parked outside, she was probably just out shopping. Deciding to wait for her, Masako stood off to one side of the passageway, making herself inconspicuous. She watched the bugs buzzing around the pale fluorescent light. Every so often, one would fly frantically against the bulb and then drop to the floor. She lit a cigarette and counted the dead insects as she waited.

  Twent