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  'You're next,' a voice said at last.

  'Hello?' said Masako, her voice muffled. Silence. She had apparently surprised him. 'Satake?' she said.

  'Masako Katori?' The voice was quiet, with a slight tremor that suggested pleasure. As if he had been waiting for this meeting. 'Speaking,' she said.

  'What did it feel like to cut up those bodies?' he said. 'Why are you after us?'

  'I'm after you.'

  'Why?'

  'Because you're a smart-ass. I'm going to teach you about the big, bad world.'

  'Thanks, but no thanks,' she said. Satake laughed.

  'I was wrong,' he said. 'You're next. Tell Jumonji you've moved up the line.' The voice was familiar. While she searched her memory trying to identify it, the phone went dead.

  3

  The voice was still there in her head. She'd heard it somewhere else quite recently. Jumping up from the couch, she grabbed her jacket and bag and headed out the door. The Corolla's engine was still warm. She was sure now: she'd met him several times. But she still needed confirmation, and that was what she was going to get, while he was still sleeping.

  If the guard named Sato was actually Satake, it all made sense. He could have met Kuniko in the parking lot and struck up a conversation with her on the walk to the factory; and it would have given him a chance to keep an eye on Masako as well. She remembered how his flashlight had lingered on her face when they'd first met, the anger in his eyes when she'd turned to face him on the road, and the pressure of his hand on her shoulder last night. Little things that had seemed just slightly odd.

  She was certain now. But she knew that confidence could turn to panic in an instant, and she might be forced to run. She couldn't settle for that. She wanted to see him dead, before she left. But was she really capable of murder? Probably not. Still, she wasn't willing to end up like Kuniko. Her body tensed and her foot touched the accelerator, sending her car jerking forward almost into the truck in front.

  Yes, Sato the guard was Satake the casino owner. The memory of his dark eyes brought back the dream she'd had several weeks ago, one where she'd felt sexually aroused as someone was strangling her from behind. It had been a premonition, she realised now, and she had the strange feeling that if he ever did get his hands on her, she might actually give in. Last night, there on that ill-lit road, some sort of current had passed between the two of them, for just a moment. Even then she'd known on some level that Sato was Satake.

  As she crawled along through the morning rush-hour traffic, she let her thoughts range over the past few months and on into the future. Was she the hunter or the hunted? Would she kill or be killed? 'Because you're a smart-ass,' he'd said. She couldn't let him get away with that. No, it was clearer to her than ever now: she and Satake were at war.

  She headed back along the familiar route to the factory. When she got there, the parking lot was almost full for the morning shift. She checked the clock in the car; it was 8.30 and the shift started at 9.00, so there would be more cars coming. She pulled off to the side of the road that led to the abandoned factory, and walked back to the guardhouse. Satake had been relieved by an older man in glasses. As she came up, he was reading the morning paper, holding the tightly folded sheets close to his face.

  'Good morning,' she said. He looked up at her over his reading glasses, at her bloodshot eyes and pale face. 'I work on the night shift, and I was wondering if you could tell me the address of the guard who's on duty then - Sato, I think his name is.'

  'Sato? I've heard the name, but I don't get on till 6.00, so we haven't actually met up. You could try asking at the office.'

  'The employment agency or just the main office?'

  'No, not at the factory - the company we work for. Try calling this number,' he said, handing her a business card with the name 'Yamato Security' written on it.

  'Thanks.' Masako tucked the card into the pocket of her jeans.

  'Why do you need his address?' he asked, smirking.

  'I want to ask him out on a date,' she said with a straight face. The man gave a snort and stared at her. She knew how grim and determined her face must look, how far from anything romantic, but the old man apparently saw something else.

  'It must be nice to be young,' he said. Young? She smiled ironically.

  'Do you think they'll give it to me?'

  'Just tell them what you told me,' the man said, looking down at his paper. Back in the car, Masako called the number on Jumonji's cell phone.

  'Yamato Security?' an older voice said.

  'My name's Kuniko Jonouchi, and I work at the Miyoshi Foods factory. The guard on the night shift, Sato-san, found something I lost, and I wanted to send him a little thank-you present.'

  'Is that right?' the man said.

  'Would you mind telling me his full name and address?'

  'His address here at the office or at home?'

  'The home one, if you don't mind.'

  'Hold on a second.' Masako was amazed how casual they seemed to be, as if the whole place were run by pensioners. It was a far cry from the security companies that used to transport the cash in the old days at the credit union. 'His name is Yoshio Sato,' the man told her after a moment. 'And he lives at the Tama Municipal Apartment Complex in Kodaira, apartment 412.'

  'Thanks very much,' she said, closing the phone and turning up the heater in the car. She'd suddenly felt chilly. It had never occurred to her that Satake might be living in the same building as Kuniko. He must have been laying his trap for some time, planning it all with great care. Once again, his attention to detail amazed and horrified her. They were like so many fish being driven into nets he had set long ago. Kuniko had been first, but now it was her turn. The blast of hot air from the heater had brought out a light sweat on her forehead, but when she reached up to wipe it off, it felt oddly cold.

  On an impulse, she thought of calling Yayoi. They hadn't talked since they'd quarrelled some weeks earlier, and she wondered whether something might have happened that she wasn't telling her about. She dialled her number.

  'The Yamamotos',' she heard Yayoi say in a slightly affected way.

  'It's me.'

  'Masako? It's good to hear from you.'

  'Is everything okay?'

  'Yes, fine. The boys are at day-care. It's been nice and quiet.' Her reaction to Masako's usual intensity seemed almost relaxed, for once. 'Why do you ask?'

  'No reason. I'm glad things are going well.'

  'Actually, we're going home to live with my parents soon.'

  'That sounds like a good idea.'

  'How are you doing? How's the Skipper?'

  'She hasn't been at work lately.'

  'Really? That's a change. How's Kuniko?'

  'She's dead,' said Masako. Yayoi let out a little shriek but said nothing for a few seconds. Masako waited.

  'Was she murdered?' Yayoi said finally.

  'Why would you think that?'

  'I don't know, I just had a feeling.' Masako was sure now that she was hiding something.

  'Anyway, she's dead,' she said.

  'When?'

  'I don't know.'

  'How did she die?'

  'I don't know that either. I just saw the body.' She decided not to mention that it had rope marks around the neck.

  'You saw the body?' Yayoi said in a bleak voice.

  'I saw it.'

  'Masako-san,' she said, sounding panicky now. 'What's going on? Why did this happen?'

  'I guess you'd have to say we woke up a monster.'

  '. . . You mean, he murdered her?' She'd said 'murder' again, and she seemed to know immediately that 'monster' meant Satake. She must have met up with him.

  'Do you know who he is then?' Masako said. Yayoi was silent. There was the sound of talk-show chatter in the background. 'If something's happened, you need to tell me. Our lives could depend on it. Do you understand that?' The urgency in her voice vibrated in the tight space of the car. She looked frantically at the overflowing ashtray