2

Rising from his desk in the Administrator’s Office, Torataro Shima invited Atsuko to sit in an armchair in the reception area. He himself sat at one end of a sofa diagonally to her right, where he reclined backward with his body almost supine. The result was that Shima’s face became positioned diagonally next to Atsuko’s, only a little below hers. Then he merely had to lift his face to find himself gazing at the beauteous visage of Atsuko Chiba from very close quarters. Shima made no secret of his admiration for her.

“So you had a visit from young Osanai, then?”

“What? You mean he came here too?” Atsuko was decidedly unimpressed with Osanai’s sense of priorities.

“He said our researchers needn’t all subscribe to your theory and help you win the Nobel Prize,” Shima said with a chuckle.

“Just as I thought. He came about Tsumura, didn’t he. I suppose he yapped on forever with his doubts about the PT devices?”

“Yes, he opposes them. But who cares? The simple fact is that they’ve cured some patients. That’s good enough for me.” Shima furrowed his brow ever so slightly. “In fact, half of the patients have even gone as far as remission. That’s something we could never have dreamt of until now, anywhere. Isn’t that right, Doctor Chiba? So your theory must be correct, mustn’t it.”

“Well, it’s mostly down to Tokita – he’s the one who develops the devices. All I do is use them. Oh, and by the way, about two-thirds of the schizophrenics are already in the remission phase. Not half.”

“Oh yes. I remember. Well, that’s wonderful of course …” Shima pulled a sour face. “But why is it that so many patients in the remission phase identify with the head of their institution like that? Some of them mimic me most grotesquely, without a hint of emotion. Just seeing them makes my skin crawl.”

“Those are patients in the so-called malleable-vulnerable phase,” said Atsuko, laughing with abandon. “All they’re looking for is transcendental independence. Anyway, doctors and nurses are often mimicked by their patients.”

Momentarily transfixed by Atsuko’s laughing demeanor, Shima finally recovered his composure. “Osanai didn’t say anything unpleasant, did he?” he asked somewhat anxiously.

“Not particularly,” Atsuko lied, somewhat calmly.

“He was talking about the effect PT devices can have on doctors,” Shima continued. “Using a lot of technical terms, you know. So I said, wouldn’t it be better to discuss this with Doctor Chiba? Or don’t you have the balls to? And he said, all right, I’ll tell her, and walked off in a huff. So then I felt I might have done you a disservice. But I’m from the old school, you see. I can’t keep up with all these new theories. There was nothing else I could say, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Atsuko. She took a glance around the office. Though suitably well appointed, it was rather on the shabby side – she could have expected more from the Administrator’s Office of a research institute that was now receiving worldwide attention. The office was austere, spacious, laid out in the old-fashioned style. Bookcases lined three of its walls, their shelves stacked with classical works of psychiatry. There were original texts by Kraepelin but no recent publications at all. Surely this would create a bad impression on visitors? Atsuko wondered if it was time to replace some of the books.

“I think Osanai’s up to something. Please be careful,” she said, concerned for the position of her well-intentioned boss. “Of course, he can’t do anything by himself. Someone else is pulling the strings. They want to make my failure a fait accompli.”

“You mean the Vice President?” Shima shifted his body uneasily, as if he was embarrassed that Atsuko should allude to such inner-circle shenanigans. For as well as being the Institute Administrator, Shima was also President of the incorporated foundation that owned the Institute. “Now you mention it, there is a rumor that Inui has his eye on the President’s chair …”

It was no mere rumor. Even Shima must have known that Inui had met the other directors and appeared to be plotting something. But Shima seemed happy just to let it go. Tokita had thoughts for nothing but his research; Atsuko was the only one who seemed concerned about it at all. In an environment so beset with enemies, she and Tokita had much to thank Shima for. It was because of him, after all, that they could concentrate so fully on their research. More than that, though, Atsuko had immense affection for Shima’s personality and felt duty-bound to protect him.

Shima misinterpreted the look on her face. “Look, I didn’t call you here to discuss such trifling matters,” he said, hurriedly adjusting his position and straightening his back.

Atsuko lifted her face in some surprise. To her, it wasn’t a trifling matter at all. Their eyes met. Shima was lost for words. It was as if there was something he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say it. This was clearly going to be difficult.

In the end, Shima got up and returned to his desk. Atsuko smiled. Only when he wanted to convince someone of something did the well-meaning but weak-willed Shima hide behind the authority of the grand Administrator’s desk.

“Now. Of course I’m aware that your research has entered a most critical phase. So naturally, what I’m about to ask will seem thoroughly unreasonable to you.” Shima clawed the top of the desk with his bony fingertips as he spoke. “But in fact, I want you to call up Paprika.”

“What?!” Atsuko all but fell off her chair. She’d been ready to accept almost any request, but this seemed a request too far. However jovially Shima tried to put it, calling up Paprika was surely out of the question at this time. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t do that work anymore.”

“Aha. I know. I know. What is it – five, six years since she quit? But this is a really important assignment. Can’t you persuade her, just one more time? As a special favor? You see, it’s not just anyone this time. Oh no. It’s someone very important, someone with a very high standing in society. I’m not going to send him to any old clinic, am I.”

“Psh. No one else seems to mind. They’re all going for psychoanalysis these days.”

“Yes, all very well, but this particular person is in a very delicate position, you see. Well, that’s partly what triggered his neurosis in the first place. You see, a lot of people are just waiting for him to mess up and make a fool of himself. His name’s Tatsuo Noda. He’s the same age as me, fifty-four. We were good friends at school and university. He’s still my closest friend, in fact. But now he’s a senior executive in a motor company, and he’s trying to produce a zero-emissions vehicle. A lot of people are against it, both inside and outside the company. So his every move is being watched, not only by rival firms but even by the government. If word got out that he was being treated for a neurotic disorder, his enemies would try to discredit everything about the vehicle, even though he didn’t design it himself. That would cause his company untold damage. Of course, being an experienced businessman, he must often find himself in this kind of position. The cause of his neurosis must therefore lie elsewhere.”

“Yes, I suppose it must.” This Noda was Shima’s friend and contemporary. He was trying to produce a zero-emissions vehicle. Before she knew it, those snippets of information had made Atsuko rather interested in this most important of clients. “The opposition from people around him probably takes the form of harassment. But that would only cause a typical nervous breakdown, at most. Not neurosis.”

“That’s right. That was my diagnosis too.” Noting Atsuko’s interest, the good and honest Shima felt instantly buoyed. “So the proper thing would be to psychoanalyze him, and that’s something I can’t do. In any case, whoever did it would need to spend a lot of time with him. Get into his dreams. That’s why I want Paprika to do it. She’s the very best dream detective.”

“But it won’t be easy to treat, even for the dream detective. It’ll take time.” Atsuko was of two minds. She felt she’d been jockeyed into a position of compliance and no longer had a choice. But if she agreed to Shima’s request there and then, her research would be interrupted at a most critical phase. Since it was trial research, she wasn’t certain exactly how long it would last, but it should be nearing completion now. “And anyway, Paprika hasn’t worked as a dream detective for six years now. She’s not so young anymore. PT devices may no longer be taboo, but this therapy is still very risky. I’m not sure she can do it anymore.”

None of this came as much of a surprise to Shima. He said nothing but merely stared at Atsuko with slightly moistened eyes, waiting for her to empty her bag of troubles.

“Look, will you promise me something first?” Atsuko said at length.

The very question brought an expression of rapture to Shima’s features. He puffed up his chest in anticipation. “But of course. If you’ll help with Noda’s treatment, ask anything you want.” Shima wasn’t the kind to evade an issue with a mere “I’ll see what I can do” – he was far too pure for that.

“All right. I want you to accept that your own position right now is just as precarious as that of your friend Mr. Noda.” Shima stared at Atsuko with a look of wonderment – just what would she say next?! “First of all, you should speak to all the directors individually, once each at least. You’ve been ignoring them, can’t you see? You’re so preoccupied with your work that you’ve lost touch with them. Second, I want you to hold a Board Meeting, as soon as possible. You can think of the reason later, but first decide a date.”

Shima had been bracing himself for something much worse. “All right,” he replied with some relief. “I can do that.”

It was just as Atsuko had expected – he was refusing to take her advice seriously. “So, where exactly do you want Paprika to go?” she asked with a little sigh, let down by his lukewarm nature once more.

Shima wrote the details on a memo pad, using his thickest-barreled Meisterstück pen. “In Roppongi, there’s a bar called Radio Club,” he said jauntily. “Only men go there. It’s always quiet, and it’s a favorite haunt of Noda’s. I’ll call him now. Can Paprika meet him tonight?”

“Does he mind if it’s late?” It would take time to call up the dream detective, and besides, Atsuko had so many other things to do.

“I think he’d prefer it that way.”

“How about eleven o’clock?”

“Right. Eleven it is.” Shima wrote two memos and passed one to Atsuko. Then he opened the drawer in his desk and took out a file containing some documents. “These’ll bring you up to speed on Tatsuo Noda. His case records are in there too.

“Oh, and Doctor Chiba?” Shima called as Atsuko was about to leave the room. He’d already picked up the telephone and was dialing the number to Noda’s office. “I’ve got to say I’m a bit jealous of Noda. Why can he have a drink with Paprika when I can’t?!”

Eight years back, when Shima had only just been appointed President and Institute Administrator, Paprika had treated him for a neurotic disorder.