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  Satake must be somewhere nearby. She considered just turning tail right then and there. Filled with anxiety and irritation, she stayed inside a while longer, reluctant to trade the safety of the car for the dark parking lot. But she wasn't the only one there this evening. Two of the large white trucks that delivered the lunches to convenience stores in the area were parked near the entrance, and the drivers, indistinguishable from the other employees in their sanitary white uniforms, were smoking and chatting with the guard in front of his hut. From time to time, she could hear them laugh, even here in the car.

  Plucking up her courage, she opened the door, climbed out and walked slowly around Kuniko's car. It was parked carelessly, exactly the way she always left it, slanting slightly to the right with the front tyres turned in, creating the illusion that Kuniko was still alive and waiting for her in the lounge. But hadn't she cut off Kuniko's head with her own hands? She stared at her palms for a moment, trying to convince herself, but then looked up, knowing how absurd this was.

  So he had studied every detail of Kuniko's movements. In which case, he was probably also watching her. That morbid tenacity and attention to detail made her blood run cold. Now it wasn't just her mind but her body as well that threatened to shut down, and she stood immobile, her legs refusing to budge, distressed at her own reaction. But just then the guard stopped talking to the drivers and turned to give her a cheerful salute. Since she'd refused his help rather abruptly the other night, the gesture could have been taken ironically, but even so she was grateful.

  'Good evening,' he called. The words seemed to function like lubricating oil, freeing her legs, and she walked over to join them.

  'You didn't see who was driving that car, did you?' she asked.

  'Which one?' the guard said.

  'The green Golf,' she said, her voice cracking.

  'Let me check,' he said, going into the guardhouse for his ledger. 'It says it belongs to Kuniko Jonouchi,' he reported, shining his flashlight on the page. 'She's on the night shift, so ... ' Masako interrupted him, irritated at being told what she already knew.

  'Does it say anything about her quitting?'

  'Now that you mention it, it does. Six days ago. That's odd,' he said, squinting at the page. 'Something must have come up suddenly,' he added, looking over at the car.

  'Do you know what time she showed up?'

  'Not exactly.' The guard looked at the truck drivers. 'I didn't really notice. My shift starts at 7.00.'

  'I think it was there last night,' one of the drivers said. He had pulled a cotton face mask down over his chin in order to smoke.

  'I doubt it,' Masako snapped.

  'No?' He sounded annoyed at being contradicted. 'Then I guess it wasn't.'

  'Sorry,' she said. It was less than three days since they'd cut up Kuniko's body, and her nerves were still raw, like her chapped red hands which hurt in the cold night air. She was struggling to control the distress she felt and to accept this new development. But the appearance of the car was just too unnerving, and she found it difficult to distinguish between imagination and reality.

  Noticing that she'd gone silent, the other driver spoke up. 'Why are you so interested in the car?' he said.

  Masako looked up at him. 'The woman who owns it quit. Did anyone see who was driving it?'

  'No,' said the guard, flipping through the ledger again. 'We didn't actually see it come in.'

  'Thanks anyway.' She left them, and started walking toward the factory, but after only a few paces she felt a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder.

  'Do you need an escort tonight?' She turned to find the guard standing behind her. The badge on his uniform said his name was Sato. 'You look a bit under the weather,' he added. Masako hesitated, unsure how to answer. Part of her wanted his company while another part wanted the chance to think quietly during the few minutes she had before work. The guard laughed. 'I know you said you didn't want me to come along the other night,' he said. 'I don't mean to bother you.'

  'That's okay,' she said. 'I'd be happy for the company, at least part way.'

  Removing the flashlight that was dangling from his uniform, he switched it on and set off down the road. Masako took one last look at Kuniko's car before starting after him. He was walking quickly and was already well ahead.

  'You going to be all right?' he said. 'You still don't look too good.' They had passed the houses on the right side of the road and reached the darkest part of the walk. The few buildings seemed to melt into the blackness around them. The only other light came from two stars shining dimly overhead. The guard stopped, his heavy black boots illuminated in the circle of yellow light at his feet. Masako stopped as well. She tried to get a look at his face, but the cap pulled down around his ears made it impossible. 'Is the lady in the Golf a friend of yours?' he asked.

  'Yes.'

  'Why did she quit?' His voice was soft and low. Masako slipped past him without answering. She didn't want to talk about Kuniko. But even in the dark, she could tell he was watching her as she went by. It was as though a magnetic field had risen between them. Her pulse quickened and she found it hard to breathe.

  'I'll be fine from here,' she forced herself to say as she began to jog away. The guard stood watching her. Sato and Satake - not all that different. The hand on her shoulder had been a little too insistent; and why had he asked about Kuniko? She felt dazed, unable to gauge the depth of the darkness around her. She didn't know what to believe. Unable to bring her blurred suspicions into focus, she dropped them for the moment and started running.

  -

  When she reached the factory, she went straight to the changing room to look for Yoshie. She wasn't there, though. She hadn't shown up at work since the delivery of Kuniko's body, and Masako suspected she had used the money from that day to move out of her house. Or had something happened to her as well?

  She sat at the long table shoving loose strands of hair under her work cap as she tried to think through recent events. As she lit a cigarette, it occurred to her that Satake might have found some way to get into the factory. She looked out at the groups of men in the lounge, but didn't see any new faces. She was jittery and restless, unlike herself. Taking a card from her wallet, she went out to the pay phone in the lounge and dialled the number of Jumonji's cell phone.

  'Katori-san?' He sounded relieved.

  'What's wrong?'

  'Nothing. It's just that I've been getting these strange calls and

  I'd just about decided to stop answering.' She could hear the apprehension in his voice.

  'What kind of calls?'

  'They must be from him. When I answer, a man says, "You're next". I know who it is, but it still gives me the creeps, especially since I've actually seen him.'

  'How did he get your number?'

  'It probably wasn't that hard; I'm always giving out business cards.'

  'Can you tell where he's calling from?'

  'No, it's a cell phone - it could be anywhere. It's got me spooked. I feel like I'm being watched twenty-four hours a day. Anyway, I've decided I have to get out of here. So take care of yourself, Katori-san.'

  'Wait a minute!' Masako said, determined to keep him from hanging up. 'I've got a favour to ask.'

  'What is it?'

  'Kuniko's Golf showed up at the parking lot.'

  'What?!' he groaned. 'How?'

  'I'm pretty sure Kuniko didn't drive it there herself, so it must have been Satake,' she said, almost whispering now.

  'Then he's closing in. I think you should get out of there.'

  'I plan to,' she said. 'But I'd appreciate it if you could watch the parking lot for the next few hours and let me know who gets in that car.'

  'It's got to be him.'

  'But I want to know where he goes.'

  'I'm sorry, I can't.' She could tell he was already halfway out the door, thinking only of his own skin. She talked to him for a few minutes more, calming him down sufficiently to agree to meet her at a nearby Denny's af