2
MARCH 25, 2010
THURSDAY, 6:57 p.m.
KOBE, JAPAN
THURSDAY, 6:57 p.m.
KOBE, JAPAN
Hisayuki Ishii’s driver, Akira, pulled into
the roundabout facing the Hotel Okura Kobe and halted in front of
the main entrance. Stopped ahead of them was the first car of the
three-car motorcade that had driven the oyabun of the
Aizukotetsu-kai Yakuza organization and his saiko komon,
Tadamasa Tsuji, the forty-six miles from Kyoto to Kobe. The
bodyguards climbed out of the first vehicle, all with their hands
stuck inside their jackets, clutching the butts of concealed
handguns so that they could be drawn out in an emergency. No one
was comfortable visiting Kobe, the traditional home of the rival
Yamaguchi-gumi Yakuza family, especially for an impromptu meeting
with the organization’s oyabun. If the Yamaguchi-gumi were
inclined, there was too much opportunity to plan an ambush.
Akira leaped out and rounded Hisayuki’s armored LS
600h L sedan and waved away the hotel doorman. Hisayuki preferred
to have his own driver open his door to avoid any unwanted
surprises. Behind came the third car with its additional host of
bodyguards.
The move from vehicle to inside the hotel happened
in seconds. Inside, Hisayuki was formally greeted by the general
manager and guided to a private elevator, whisking him, his
saiko-komon, and two of his most trusted lieutenants up to
the penthouse floor, where they were escorted into a private dining
room. There Hisayuki was greeted by his Yamaguchi-gumi equivalent,
Oyabun Hiroshi Fukazawa. He too was accompanied by his
saiko-komon, a slight bespectacled man by the name of
Tokutaro Kudo, who, by his diminutive size, made his boss appear to
be a giant.
Actually, Hiroshi was big. Although not a giant, he
was almost a head taller than Hisayuki, with a broad, serious face.
He was dressed as nattily as his guest, in elegant European
business attire.
Besides the two principles and their respectful
saiko-komons and two personal bodyguards, the other people
in the room included a hotel manager, a waiter, and a chef. The
chef, outfitted in spotless white with a tall, highly starched
toque, was standing patiently in the middle of a U-shaped dining
table with a built-in grill. The table was at the far end of the
narrow room near the window. Out the window stretched a dramatic
sweeping view of Osaka Bay with the Port of Kobe in the
foreground.
After the typical, ritualized greeting and exchange
of business cards, Hiroshi gestured for his two guests to take
seats in the seating area near the room’s entrance, just beyond the
private lavatory. As Hisayuki stepped over to one of the chairs, he
could not help but take note that Hiroshi did not make a point of
bowing slightly lower than he, which was traditional, since
Hisayuki was clearly the more senior in age. Hisayuki wondered if
the slight was deliberate or accidental, and if deliberate, if it
was a sign of disrespect or merely a subtle statement that Hiroshi
did not consider himself bound by the same old Yakuza cultural
rules.
“This is a most pleasant surprise, Ishii-san,”
Hiroshi said once the four men were seated and had ordered their
personal favorite brand of Scotch whiskey. The four bodyguards
faded to opposite sides of the room, glaring at one another.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us under such short
notice, Fukazawa-san,” Hisayuki said with yet another slight
bow.
“It is good to see you looking so well. It has been
too long since we were together, my friend.”
“It was more than a year. We should not be so lax.
It is, after all, less than fifty miles that separates us.”
The pleasantries continued until the waiter brought
out their respective scotches. When the waiter withdrew, the tone
changed. It wasn’t marked, but it was real. “What is it that we can
do for the oyabun of the Aizukotetsu-kai?” Hiroshi asked
with a more clipped style and impatient tone than he had used
earlier.
Hisayuki cleared his throat and hesitated as if
he’d waited until that very moment to decide what it was he wanted
to say. “Several days ago—three, to be exact—I was called to Tokyo
to meet with Daijin Kenichi Fujiwara-san.”
“The vice minister Fujiwara?” Hiroshi questioned
with muted surprise. He shot a quick glance toward his
saiko-komon and got a slight shrug of the man’s shoulders in
return, suggesting that he was equally surprised. A government
meeting at the ministerial level with a Yakuza oyabun was
something akin to a blue moon.
“Exactly! The vice minister of Economy, Trade, and
Industry,” Hisayuki said. He leaned forward and made direct eye
contact with his host. He knew he had the man’s full attention.
“The vice minister told me a number of surprising and disturbing
things that we need to talk about. First, he told me that the
Yamaguchi-gumi had been behind the break-in of a laboratory at
Kyoto University, where there had been a death. I’m sure you have
heard about it. At the same incident, some important laboratory
books had been stolen, an issue you might not have heard about,
since it was not reported to the media. The government is concerned
about these laboratory books, as they have put in jeopardy the
legitimacy of Kyoto University’s patents on iPS technology. ”
Hiroshi sat back and took a sip of his scotch while
returning Hisayuki’s stare. It was obvious he was taken aback by
the candor of Hisayuki’s remarks even more than the content,
although the content surprised him, too. The media had not named
the Yamaguchi-gumi specifically, just that the break-in had been a
Yakuza event.
“My concern is whether you personally were aware of
this break-in. Perhaps it was the doings of one of the Yamaguchi
splinter groups? We all know that the Yamaguchi is expanding
quickly, which might mean that there is not the same internal
cohesion as with the rest of us.” Hisayuki wanted to provide an out
for his rival, but the effort was ineffectual. Hiroshi’s expression
clouded.
“We subscribe to the same oyabun-kobun sworn
brotherhood structure as everyone else,” Hiroshi stated with some
indignation. “I am the oyabun of the Yamaguchi-gumi. I know
what my brotherhood is doing in all respects.”
“My comments are not intended to disparage the
Yamaguchi-gumi in any way. We all have great respect for the
Yamaguchi-gumi, perhaps even a bit of envy for your recent
successes. But I take your response to mean that you, personally,
were aware of the break-in. If that is the case, I must formally
complain that you did not inform me of what you were doing nor ask
me to help. We Yakuza have, over the years, adhered to this policy
of cooperation to avoid turf wars, and I would like to be assured
that in the future you will contact me if you have needs in the
Kyoto area. I don’t mean this to be a serious confrontation, and I
hope it isn’t. We just need to maintain respect between our
organizations, as has been the case over the years among all the
Yakuza.”
“We Yamaguchi have the utmost respect for the
Aizukotetsu-kai,” Hiroshi said without changing his
expression.
As a realist, Hisayuki knew that Hiroshi’s response
skirted rather than faced the issue. There was no apology implied,
but Hisayuki was content to take the response as the first step
toward a solution. As close as Kobe and Kyoto were physically, it
was imperative that the problem be recognized, and at least now it
had been formally broached.
Moving on to the next issue—namely, the very real
threat to the Aizukotetsu-kai portfolio from the Yamaguchi-gumi
action—Hisayuki said, “If I may ask, why did you, as the
oyabun of the Yamaguchi-gumi, want the lab books from the
Kyoto University laboratory, and why did you help their owner and
his family defect to America? Didn’t you realize it was against our
government’s interests, meaning all our interests as Japanese
citizens, and especially those citizens who have invested in the
Japanese start-up company iPS Patent Japan?”
“Perhaps as Japanese citizens it could seem to be
against our interests, but not as a Yakuza businessman struggling
in a global economy. Money and effort should be directed where it
will make the most money, not where a selfish, bureaucratic
government like ours suggests. Our government is not for the
Japanese people, despite what they say. It is for themselves, like
most governments in today’s world. Look what happened here in Kobe
in the earthquake in ’95. Who rescued the people and maintained
order in the first terrible days? Was it the government? Hell, no.
It was us, the Yamaguchi-gumi. The government only came in later
when they suddenly realized it was a public-relations nightmare in
the making.
“Why I gave the order to aid this Satoshi was
because it had been a direct request from our New York City
saiko-komon, Saboru Fukuda. Perhaps you know him. He was
originally from Kyoto but moved here to Kobe to work the docks as a
mere laborer but ended up joining the Yamaguchi family. We
recognized his skills early in his career. He’s a very smart
businessman, a good administrator, and an intuitive
investor.”
“I don’t know him,” Hisayuki said with a shake of
his head, hardly listening. He was taken aback by Hiroshi’s
statement suggesting that as a Yakuza businessman, he was not
patriotic. The Yakuza had always been patriotic. It was part of the
unwritten contract the Yakuza had with the government.
“Not only has Fukuda-san tripled our take with our
gambling operations in New York, he’s also been laundering the
money onsite through shrewd investments with a clever New York
placement agent. This placement agent is slick and has no fear of
dirty money, which he most willingly uses as venture capital to
fund medical and biotech start-up companies, which is his
specialty. Usually it costs money to launder money, as you well
know, but with him we’ve been seeing up to a forty percent increase
in original value. So the revenue Fukuda-san returns here to Kobe
is already clean. With such a track record I have come to support
him one hundred percent. Whatever he asks for, I give him and do so
with confidence, no questions asked. Perhaps as sister
organizations we could introduce you to this placement
agent.”
“As I said, I don’t know him,” Hisayuki said
distractedly.
“Kyoto’s loss and Kobe’s gain,” Hiroshi said, as if
a proud father. “Since I appointed him more than five years ago, he
has been running the Yamaguchi-gumi operation in New York. He’s
turned New York into our most profitable foreign branch. How is
your New York branch doing, if I may ask?”
“Reasonably well,” Hisayuki said. Normally he would
not have even acknowledged there was a New York City branch of his
operation, much less tell how it was doing, but he was asking
Hiroshi similarly confidential questions, and Hiroshi was
answering. Hisayuki needed Hiroshi to keep talking, because he
needed to find out if Hiroshi had any idea why his
saiko-komon wanted Satoshi aided. As Hisayuki was trying to
come up with the next question without giving away why he wanted to
know, it all suddenly hit him, and once it did, he was amazed it
had taken him so long to figure it out. The vice minister had to
have been correct. The Yamaguchi, through their saiko-komon
in New York, Saboru Fukuda, were investing in iPS USA, the start-up
company the vice minister had spoken of. It had to be the
explanation.
“If your operation in New York is only doing
reasonably well,” Hiroshi continued, unaware of Hisayuki’s
epiphany, “then why don’t we team up, merge our New York operations
and share proceeds in proportion to our respective personnel
roster. There should be more cooperation in these tough times
between all Yakuza organizations, even here in Japan.”
Glancing briefly at his saiko-komon,
Hisayuki wondered if he’d come to the same conclusion, and was
eager to ask him once they got back into the car. Looking back at
Hiroshi, who was still going on about the idea of their two
organizations colluding, Hisayuki wondered if he dared to ask
Hiroshi some direct question, like whether or not the Yamaguchi had
any stock in iPS USA. He was worried that Hiroshi might come to a
similar conclusion, that the Aizukotetsu-kai had a serious
financial involvement with iPS Patent Japan, meaning that their
respective Yakuza organizations were in direct financial conflict.
Of course, Hisayuki didn’t know if the sizes of the investments
were anywhere equivalent, but he didn’t think it would make that
much difference. It was an awkward situation, since the two
companies’ market values were inversely connected like a zero-sum
game: If one were to go up, the other would invariably have to go
down. Internecine Yakuza wars had been fought over circumstances
even less definitively connected, and Hisayuki had the sudden fear
that this was going to be a war as well. The Aizukotetsu-kai simply
could not afford to lose what they had invested in iPS Patent
Japan, nor could they simply pull out, since the company’s cash
reserves were nil. “It will be a war,” Hisayuki found himself
prophesying and already planning how to limit the collateral
damage, and even possibly how to outsource the whole mess to New
York City.
“So what do you think?” Hiroshi questioned. He had
been continuing to talk up his suggestion of some kind of
partnership between the Yamaguchi-gumi and the Aizukotetsu-kai, an
idea Hisayuki dismissed out of hand since he knew that if that were
to happen, Aizukotetsu-kai would be swallowed up by the Yamaguchi.
The concept of partnership was one of the Yamaguchi-gumi’s main
methods of expansion. “I tell you, Ishii-san,” Hiroshi went on when
Hisayuki failed to respond immediately, “we all have to accept that
the world as we knew it in our lifetime is rapidly changing, and we
Yakuza have to change, too. The government is not going to leave us
alone, like in the past, as evidenced by the anti-gang laws passed
in ’92. It’s only going to get worse.”
“When I met with the vice minister just the other
day, this issue came up.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said the laws that have been passed had been
done so merely for political reasons, and that there was no
intention of truly enforcing them.”
“And you believed him?”
“He said that if the government was serious about
enforcement, they would have to pass something similar to the
United States’ RICO Act, and they haven’t, and I know for certain
that there isn’t anything in the works. So, yes, I believed
him.”
“With all due respect, Ishii-san, I believe you are
being much too trusting and even a bit naïve,” Hirsohi said,
beginning a long monologue about his vision of the future with the
Japanese government. “Soon the benign neglect that has
characterized our relationship is going to change to become
progressively more antagonistic. It stands to reason. Even today
the government is envious of the money they believe that we, the
Yakuza, are, from their perspective, sucking from the economy and
paying little or no taxes on.”
As Hiroshi talked, Hisayuki became progressively
more uncomfortable as a guest, and realized how easy it would be
for the Yamaguchi-gumi to overwhelm the Aizukotetsu-kai, which he
worried they might feel was appropriate if Hiroshi were to make the
association between their conflicting investments in what was going
to be a trillion-dollar industry.
Hisayuki allowed Hiroshi to continue his ranting
about the government without offering any contradictions, such as
the fact that the government needed the Yakuza. It was his sense
and hope that if Hiroshi stayed on the issue of the government vs.
the Yakuza, he’d be less likely to have any dangerous
epiphanies.
“We Yakuza have to come together!” Hiroshi chimed
like a politician on a soapbox, going back to his original issue of
encouraging some sort of partnership between their two
organizations. Hisayuki let him continue, even encouraging him a
degree by nodding and smiling at appropriate times to give the
impression that he was even considering the idea.
As Hiroshi droned on, Hisayuki thanked the gods
that he’d paused at the beginning of the meeting and hadn’t started
as he had initially planned—namely, to relate to Hiroshi what he
had learned early that morning from Hideki Shimoda, his New York
City saiko-komon . At nine-thirty he’d had a call from
Hideki, who reported that as ordered, the threat to Kyoto
University’s iPS patents had been significantly reduced because, as
requested, Satoshi and his family had been eliminated. He’d been
told that the hit on Satoshi had gone flawlessly and was certain to
be interpreted as the natural death of an unidentified individual.
The only problem, he’d been informed, was that the lab books had
not been located.
Hisayuki breathed out with relief, thinking how
close he’d come to disaster if he’d started the meeting with such a
revelation. It surely would have had the opposite result of what
he’d intended, as he never thought for a moment that Hiroshi was
involved personally.
Suddenly Hiroshi stopped his soliloquy in
mid-sentence. He’d seen Hisayuki’s sigh and took it as a reminder
of his responsibilities as a host. “I’m sorry for carrying on so,”
he said, rising to his feet and bowing slightly. “You must be
hungry. I see that you have all finished your whiskey. It is time
for our dinner and entertainment.” He gestured toward the table and
the chef in his blindingly white outfit. “Please, let us have some
food and more alcohol to celebrate our friendship.”
Hisayuki got to his feet with even more relief. He
knew that once the sake, beer, and wine appeared and the dinner
started, and whatever else Hiroshi had planned, there would be no
more talk of business.

More than an hour later, as soon as it seemed
socially appropriate, Hisayuki and Tadamasa excused themselves from
what had become quite a party, citing that they were facing an
hour-and-a-half drive back to Kyoto. Hiroshi had tried to talk them
into staying the night at the hotel, but they had graciously
declined, claiming that they needed to be in Kyoto for
early-morning meetings.
Despite some concern, the departure was as smooth
as the arrival, with no untoward incidents, and soon the three-car
cavalcade was on the road north to Kyoto. Hisayuki had not said a
word for a number of miles, going over everything Hiroshi has said.
Tadamasa, knowing his place, remained equally silent.
“Well?” Hisayuki questioned suddenly. “What was
your feeling about the meeting?”
“It went smoothly but does not bode well for the
future.”
“My feelings exactly,” Hisayuki said, holding on to
the strap above the rear window. He was gazing out at the dark
countryside as it flashed by. All he could see were dim lights in
the windows of farmers’ cottages; all he could hear was the muffled
hum of his powerful sedan’s engine. “Did you get the sense that the
Yamaguchi-gumi is invested in iPS USA?” He asked the question
casually so as not to influence his adviser’s opinion.
“Most definitely! I was trying to think of a way to
let you know, but then I was quite certain you already did. I think
they are significantly involved by the way Fukazawa-san carried on
about the placement agent his saiko-komon has found.”
“Tomorrow, have some of our analysts at the RRTW
office try to learn what they can about the Yamaguchi-gumi
involvement with iPS USA.”
“The problem is that the market value of iPS USA
and iPS Patent Japan are inversely tied together.”
“Don’t I know,” Hisayuki murmured
regretfully.
“There is going to be trouble over this.”
“I know that as well. We need time to prepare for
the worst. The key thing in the short run is to keep Hiroshi in the
dark as long as we can while we bolster the legitimacy iPS Patent
Japan’s patents of iPS cells. Getting rid of Satoshi is good, but
we need to get the missing lab books and destroy them.”
“The question is, of course, where are the lab
books? As Satoshi didn’t have them on his person or at home, they
must be in physical possession of iPS USA.”
“Call Hideki and tell him he needs to get ahold of
Satoshi’s lab books if at all possible, but warn him that the
Aizukotetsu-kai cannot appear to be involved.”
Tadamasa got out his cell phone and started to dial
Hideki Shimoda.
Hisayuki looked back out at the darkened landscape
and wondered if there was anything else he should communicate to
his New York saiko-komon while Tadamasa had him on the line.
He thought back to the conversation he’d had with the man that
morning, remembering he’d said that Satoshi’s death had gone
flawlessly and would be interpreted as a natural death of an
unidentified individual. Hisayuki hoped that was going to be true,
particularly the natural-death part, because if it were to be
considered a murder and the Yamaguchi-gumi found out that the
Aizukotetsu-kai were involved, there was a good chance a full-blown
war would flare up almost immediately.