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  'Good morning,' she said, with her usual mock politeness. She was wearing a new red leather jacket, no doubt acquired with her recent windfall.

  Masako returned the greeting. Since they'd stopped waiting for each other out here, she'd seldom run into Kuniko on the way to work; and judging from the disappointed look on her face right now, she suspected Kuniko preferred it that way.

  'You're early today,' said Kuniko.

  'I guess I am.' Masako peered at her watch in the dim light; she was, in fact, almost ten minutes ahead of schedule.

  'Do you know what that's about?' Kuniko said, nodding toward the guardhouse as she pulled up the top on her car.

  'I suppose they're planning to have a guard out here.'

  'I hear the police found out about that pervert and forced management to keep an eye on things.' It seemed more likely to Masako that they'd agreed to the guard only because people had been parking illegally in their lot.

  'What a shame,' she said. 'Now you won't get a chance to meet him.'

  'What do you mean by that?' said Kuniko, twisting her face into a look of open hostility. Her make-up was perfect, as if she were going shopping downtown, but to Masako the showy paint merely seemed to emphasise the flaws in her features.

  'I see you're still driving that car,' she sneered, nodding toward the newly polished Golf. 'You should get yourself a bike, save your money.'

  But Kuniko turned on her heel and walked off in a huff. Ignoring her, Masako stood rubbing her arms to warm them. It was a bit cooler tonight than usual, even for the beginning of October, and she found she could distinguish various smells in the cold, dry air: fried food from the factory, exhaust fumes, the grass growing around the lot, and the fragrant white olive trees. The last surviving insects were singing somewhere nearby.

  She found a sweatshirt on the back seat of the car and pulled it on. Lighting another cigarette - she was almost never without one now - she waited for Kuniko's retreating red figure to disappear. A few minutes later, she heard the rumble of an engine and a large motorcycle pulled into the parking lot. The rear tyre skidded on the dirt and the headlight bounced up and down as the bike came toward her across the rough lot. Who was it? None of the parttimers came to work on a motorbike. Masako stared suspiciously as it pulled up next to her.

  'Katori-san,' a voice called, and the rider lifted the visor of his helmet. It was Jumonji.

  'What are you doing here? You nearly scared me to death.'

  'I'm glad I caught you,' he said, cutting the engine. The parking lot suddenly fell silent, and even the bugs had stopped singing, startled perhaps by the noise. Jumonji set the bike's kickstand in one swift motion.

  'What's up?' she said.

  'We've got a job,' he told her. Her pulse had quickened at the surprise arrival of the bike, but now she found herself clasping her arms across her chest to control the pounding. She caught a whiff of the familiar smell of detergent from the sweatshirt that had been packed away since last spring; and it crossed her mind for a second that she was now leaving behind the sort of life that smell represented. She hugged herself tighter.

  'That kind of job?' she said.

  'What else? I had a call just now saying there was a body that needs to disappear. I was worried I wouldn't be able to get in touch with you, so I decided to come straight here . . . but I was afraid Jonouchi-san might recognise my car.' His voice had a quaver of excitement in it.

  'So you used the bike,' Masako said.

  'I haven't ridden it recently, and it took a while to get the engine started.' He pulled off the helmet, like an actor removing a wig, and smoothed his hair back with his usual gesture.

  'What do you want me to do?' Masako asked.

  'I'll go pick it up and bring it to your house. What time do you finish work?'

  'Five thirty,' she said, tapping her foot.

  'And what time do you get home?'

  'A little after 6.00. But you'll have to wait until everyone's out of the house, around 9.00. Do you think you can get the clothes off before you bring it over?'

  'I'll give it a try,' he said grimly.

  'And can you shift it by yourself?'

  'We'll see I bought some scalpels, so I'll bring them along.'

  'Good,' said Masako, chewing her fingernails as she frantically tried to think of anything they might have forgotten. In the heat of the moment, nothing came to mind; and then she remembered something. 'And make sure you get the boxes.'

  'Do you want big ones?'

  'No, not really. We don't want them to attract attention, so get the kind they have at grocery stores. But make sure they're good and sturdy.'

  'I should be able to pick up some tomorrow morning. Have you got plastic bags?'

  'I bought some just in case,' she said. 'There's one other thing: what should I do if something goes wrong?' A number of possible hitches had suddenly come to mind: Yoshiki might decide to stay home from work, for example, or Nobuki might skip his shift.

  'What could go wrong?' he asked, sounding alarmed.

  'Well, what if the house isn't empty, for instance?'

  'Then give me a call on my cell phone.' He pulled a business card out of the pocket of his jeans and handed it over. The phone number was printed on the card.

  'All right,' she said. 'If something comes up, I'll call you by 8.30.'

  'Otherwise, I'll see you around 9.00,' he said, holding out his hand. Masako stared at it for a moment and then reached out to shake it. It felt cold and rough in the chilly wind. 'See you, then,' he said, starting the engine. The low, powerful noise spread out across the empty lot, fading into the darkness beyond. At the last minute, Masako signalled him. 'Something else?' he said, raising the visor again.

  'Somebody's been snooping around my place. Maybe from a detective agency.'

  'What do you think it means?' he asked, clearly worried.

  'I've no idea.'

  'It's not the police, is it? We don't want to mess with that.' Masako's heart sank. Maybe they should lie low for a while. But it was too late for that.

  'I don't know,' she said, 'but I say we go ahead.'

  'I guess so,' he agreed. 'We've come too far to back out now. A lot of important people would lose face.' He made a neat turn and sped away, kicking up clumps of dirt behind him.

  Left alone, Masako set off toward the factory, reviewing the procedure as she walked: first came the head; then the arms and legs; then, you opened the torso. . . . She could picture the whole gruesome, unnerving process. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder what shape the body would be in when it came to them, and this unnerved her all the more. Her knees began to shake, as if baulking at the idea of carrying her any nearer this horror, and it was difficult to walk. She stopped and stood in the dark, realising that what really spooked her wasn't the body she would soon be seeing but the unseen people who were out there somewhere, watching.

  -

  As she entered the lounge, Kuniko made a show of standing up and walking out without so much as glancing at her. Masako, however, had no time for that kind of behaviour, intent as she was on finding Yoshie. She found her soon afterward, in the changing room with Yayoi.

  'Skipper,' she said, tapping her on the shoulder just as she was pulling up the zipper of her uniform. Yayoi, who was standing beside her, turned around as well, a look of cheerful innocence on her face. Masako had been meaning to leave her out of their plans this time, but when she saw that face - without a trace of the horror they had been through visible there - she felt a violent urge to make her tremble the way she had, just now out there in the night. She clenched her teeth, trying to resist it.

  'What's up?' Yoshie said, but a look of consternation showed that she knew the answer almost before she asked the question.

  'We've got a job,' Masako told her. Yoshie stared back, her lips tightening into a fine line. Masako decided she wouldn't mention her qualms about being watched; she was afraid Yoshie would lose her nerve, and she'd never be able to do the job alone.