The second piece of information was Aomame’s employment record at the sports club. Ushikawa wanted to know the details of her job there, and the names of her personal clients. This kind of information wouldn’t be as closely guarded. Not that you could waltz in, say, “I wonder if you would mind showing me Miss Aomame’s file, please?,” and have them gladly hand it over.

Ushikawa left his name and phone number on the machine. Thirty minutes later he got a call back.

“Mr. Ushikawa,” a hoarse voice said.

Ushikawa related the particulars of what he was looking for. He had never actually met the man. They always did business by phone, with materials sent over by special delivery. The man’s voice was a bit husky, and he occasionally cleared his throat. He might have had something wrong with it. There was always a perfect silence on the other end of the line, as if he were phoning from a soundproof room. All Ushikawa could hear was the man’s voice, and the grating sound of his breathing. Beyond that, nothing. The sounds he heard were all a bit exaggerated. What a creepy guy, Ushikawa thought each time. The world is sure full of creepy guys, he mused, knowing full well that, objectively speaking, this category would include himself. He had secretly nicknamed the man Bat.

“In both cases, then, you’re after information concerning the name Aomame, right?” Bat said huskily, and cleared his throat.

“Correct. It’s an unusual name.”

“You want every bit of information I can get?”

“As long as it involves the name Aomame, I want it all. If possible, I would also like a photo of her, with a clear shot of her face.”

“The gym should be easy. They aren’t expecting anyone to steal their information. The Witnesses, though, are a different story. They’re a huge organization, with a lot of money, and tight security. Religious organizations are some of the hardest groups to crack. They keep things tight to protect their members’ personal security, and there are always tax issues involved.”

“Do you think you can do it?”

“There are ways to pry open the door. What is more difficult is making sure you close it afterward. If you don’t do that, you’ll have a homing missile chasing you.”

“You make it sound like a war.”

“That’s exactly what it is. Some pretty scary things might pop out,” the man rasped. Ushikawa could tell from his tone of voice that this battle was something he enjoyed.

“So, you’ll take it on for me?”

The man lightly cleared his throat. “All right. But it’ll cost you.”

“How much are we talking about, roughly?”

The man gave him an estimate. Ushikawa had to swallow before he accepted. He had put aside enough of his own funds to cover it, and if the man came through, he could get reimbursed later on.

“How long will it take?”

“I assume this is a rush job?”

“Correct.”

“It’s hard to give an exact estimate, but I’m thinking a week to ten days.”

“Fine,” Ushikawa said. He would have to let Bat determine the pace.

“When I’ve gathered the material, I’ll call you. I’ll definitely get in touch before ten days are up.”

“Unless a missile catches up with you,” Ushikawa said.

“Exactly,” Bat said, totally blasé.

After he hung up, Ushikawa hunched over his desk, turning things over in his mind. He had no idea how Bat would gather the information via some back door. Even if he asked, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer. The only thing for sure was that his methods weren’t legal. He would start by trying to bribe somebody inside. If necessary he might try trespassing. If computers were involved, things could get complicated.

There were only a few government offices and companies that managed information by computer. It cost too much and took too much effort. But a religious organization of national scale would have the resources to computerize. Ushikawa himself knew next to nothing about computers. He did understand, however, that computers were becoming an indispensable tool for gathering information. Earlier ways of finding information—going to the National Diet Library, sitting at a desk with piles of bound, small-sized editions of old newspapers, or almanacs—might soon become a thing of the past. The world might be reduced to a battlefield, the smell of blood everywhere, where computer managers and hackers fought it out. No, “the smell of blood” isn’t accurate, Ushikawa decided. It was a war, so there was bound to be some bloodshed. But there wouldn’t be any smell. What a weird world. Ushikawa preferred a world where smells and pain still existed, even if the smells and pain were unendurable. Still, people like Ushikawa might become out-of-date relics.

But Ushikawa wasn’t pessimistic. He had an innate sense of intuition, and his unique olfactory organ let him sniff out and distinguish all sorts of odors. He could physically feel, in his skin, how things were trending. Computers couldn’t do this. This was the kind of ability that couldn’t be quantified or systematized. Skillfully accessing a heavily guarded computer and extracting information was the job of a hacker. But deciding which information to extract, and sifting through massive amounts of information to find what is useful, was something only a flesh-and-blood person could do.

Maybe I am just an ugly, middle-aged, outdated man, Ushikawa thought. Nope, no maybes about it. I am, without a doubt, one ugly, middle-aged, outdated man. But I do have a couple of talents nobody else has. And as long as I have these talents, no matter what sort of weird world I find myself in, I’ll survive.

I’m going to get you, Miss Aomame. You are quite clever, to be sure. Skilled, and cautious. But I’m going to chase after you until I catch you. So wait for me. I’m heading your way. Can you hear my footsteps? I don’t believe you can. I’m like a tortoise, hardly making a sound. But step by step, I am getting closer.

But Ushikawa felt something else pressing on him from behind. Time. Pursuing Aomame meant simultaneously shaking off time, which was in pursuit of him. He had to track her down quickly, clarify who was backing her, and present it all, nice and neat, on a plate to the people from Sakigake. He had been given a limited amount of time. It would be too late to find out everything, say, three months from now. Up until recently he had been a very valuable person to them. Capable and accommodating, well versed in legal matters, a man they could count on to keep his mouth shut. Someone who could work off the grid. But in the end, he was simply a hired jack-of-all-trades. He wasn’t one of them, a member of their family. He was a man without a speck of religious devotion. If he became a danger to the religion, they might eliminate him with no qualms whatever.

While he waited for Bat to return his call, Ushikawa went to the library to look into the history and activities of the Witnesses. He took notes and made copies of relevant documents. He liked doing research at a library. He liked the feeling of accumulating knowledge in his brain. It was something he had enjoyed ever since he was a child.

Once he had finished at the library, he went to Aomame’s apartment in Jiyugaoka, to make sure once more that it was unoccupied. The mailbox still had her name on it, but no one seemed to be living there. He stopped by the office of the real estate agent who handled the rental.

“I heard that there was a vacant apartment in the building,” Ushikawa said, “and I was wondering if I could rent it.”

“It is vacant, yes,” the agent told him, “but no one can move in until the beginning of February. The rental contract with the present occupant doesn’t expire until the end of next January. They are going to be paying the monthly rent the same as always until then. They have moved everything out and the electricity and water have been shut off. But the lease remains intact.”