October 28, 1990. Monday.
Osaka. Yodoyabashi.
9:03 AM. When Endo stepped out of the car, there was a faint, fishy scent of river water in the air.
The surface of the Dojima River was gray, and the row of ginkgo trees on the opposite bank in Nakanoshima had already turned half-yellow. Leaves were blown up by the wind and stuck to the stone tiles of the sidewalk.
He was wearing a black three-piece suit today, without an overcoat.
Even though the late October morning in Osaka had cooled to twelve degrees, wearing an overcoat would still make him seem like he was "planning to stay a while." He didn't want to give the other party that impression.
Four people followed behind him.
SIS Audit Director Tadokoro, Legal Department Section Chief Nagai, and two technical documentation clerks.
Each person carried a hard-shell briefcase in their hand. The cases were silver-gray, with the "S.A." emblem imprinted on the latches.
Endo's gaze fell upon the seven-story building ahead.
The exterior walls were tiled in beige, and a bronze sign hung on the top floor. The font was still the Gothic style popular in Showa 40s, a sans-serif typeface equivalent to standard boldface.
Itoman Corporation. Osaka Headquarters.
"Mr. Endo."
The voice came from the right.
Kawase Masahiro stood under the side entrance porch, his gray kimono jacket replaced by a dark navy blue suit today. Pinned to his chest was the badge of the Sumitomo main family, a small metal clasp with a well pattern embedded in a diamond shape.
Endo bowed slightly. "Mr. Kawase, sorry to have kept you waiting."
"Not at all." Kawase stepped aside to make way. "Everything is ready inside. The third-floor conference room, the air conditioning and power outlets have all been checked."
Endo did not leave immediately. He took a folded document from his briefcase and handed it to Kawase.
"Letter of authorization, please verify."
Kawase took it and unfolded it.
On the paper was the private seal of the Sumitomo main family, authorized in the personal name of Yoshio Sumitomo.
The content of the authorization was written extremely carefully:
"Commissioned by the Sumitomo main family to assist in verifying the trade settlements, warehouse receipt financing, overseas accounts receivable, and transactions with the main family's asset management accounts of Itoman Corporation and its affiliated companies."
Kawase finished reading it word for word, his gaze pausing for a beat longer on the seven characters "main family asset management accounts."
Then he folded the document and put it into his inner pocket.
"Verified, please come in."
Third-floor conference room.
In the twenty-square-meter space, the long table, eight chairs, and the copier in the corner had been moved in temporarily yesterday, still bearing plastic seals.
The curtains were half-drawn, and outside, one could still see the side of the neighboring Sumitomo Bank Osaka main branch.
Endo placed his briefcase on the table and opened the latches.
"Tadokoro."
"Yes."
"Follow the order from last night for the list. Start with the contract ledgers of the Trade Settlement Department, then move on to the numbering sequence for warehouse receipt financing."
Tadokoro nodded and pulled out a printed document list from his own case. Three pages of A4 paper, with each line listing the file name, number range, and corresponding department that needed to be retrieved.
Endo glanced at the time. 9:18 AM.
"Have the people from Itoman arrived?"
Kawase was speaking in a low voice with a middle-aged man in uniform in the hallway. Hearing Endo's question, he turned around.
"The Deputy Chief of the Trade Management Department will be here shortly. Currently, the General Affairs Section is preparing the first batch of documents."
"How much?"
"They said they will provide the annual contract ledgers from April 1989 to March 1990 first today."
Endo rested his fingertips on the tabletop and tapped lightly.
"Only the ledgers? What about the original contracts?"
Kawase's expression did not change, but his response was half a beat slow.
"The original contracts... they say they need to be retrieved from the archives and will be ready tomorrow."
The corners of Endo's mouth twitched. A very small movement.
"Fine, then we'll look at the ledgers first."
He did not press further.
9:45 AM. Deputy Chief Mitamura of the Itoman Trade Management Department entered the conference room, followed by a young employee carrying a cardboard box.
Mitamura was in his early fifties, his hair combed back slick and shiny, his cheekbones high, and he had a habit of habitually pressing his fingers against his temples when speaking.
The first time he saw Endo, his gaze fell first on the name tag on his chest, "S.A. Holdings."
"Mr. Endo, nice to meet you." He stood still immediately and bowed at a standard forty-five-degree angle. "Itoman Corporation Trade Management Department, Mitamura."
Endo stood up to return the bow, the angle ten degrees shallower.
"Thank you for your hard work. Time is precious, let's start directly."
The box was opened. Inside were four thick loose-leaf binders, each about three hundred pages. The covers had annual labels.
Tadokoro took over and opened the first one.
Ten minutes later.
"Mr. Endo." Tadokoro's voice was very low.
Endo walked over and looked down at the line Tadokoro's finger was pressing on.
It was a "steel import prepayment" from July 1989.
The amount was 230 million yen. The payment recipient was a company named "Hanwa Metal Trading."
Tadokoro turned to the next page.
In September of the same year, another one.
"Steel import prepayment," 180 million yen, payment recipient, "Hanwa Metal Trading."
Turning again. November. 150 million yen. The same company.
Tadokoro marked these three pages with yellow sticky notes and then looked up at Endo. Endo's expression remained unchanged.
"What about the warehousing?"
Tadokoro shook his head.
"There are only payment records on the ledger, and the corresponding warehousing columns are all blank."
Endo's gaze shifted to Mitamura. Mitamura was sitting opposite, flipping through another document, seemingly not noticing the activity here.
Endo did not ask on the spot.
He wrote one character in pencil on Tadokoro's yellow sticky note.
"Investigate."
1:15 PM.
Lunch break. Mitamura and his employee left the conference room, saying they were going to eat at the cafeteria on the first floor.
After the door closed, Endo immediately had someone pull the conference room blinds all the way down.
The four people gathered around the long table.
Tadokoro spread out the findings from the morning.
"As of now, I have found eleven similar 'prepayments' in the ledger."
"And none of them have corresponding warehousing records."
"The payment recipients are mainly concentrated in three companies."
He wrote the three names on the whiteboard:
Hanwa Metal Trading.
Powa Real Estate Development.
Osaka Shoto Building Materials.
Endo looked at the whiteboard.
"Have the business registration information for these three companies been checked?"
Nagai opened his notebook.
"Hanwa Metal Trading, registered address in Nishi-ku, Itachibori. Capital of 10 million yen. Registered business: Metal products wholesale."
"Representative Director: Takagi Masaki."
Endo memorized the name.
"Were there any real estate transaction records during the bubble period?"
Nagai's finger slid across the notebook.
"Yes."
"In October 1988, they purchased a piece of industrial land in Higashiosaka City from Sumitomo Trust."
"In March 1989, they transferred the land to 'Nakanoshima Comprehensive Development.' The price difference was about 700 million yen."
Endo's gaze paused for two seconds.
A "metal wholesaler" with a registered capital of 10 million yen had conducted a land deal with a 700 million yen price difference within a year.
"The second company. 'Powa Real Estate Development.'"
Nagai turned to the next page.
"Registered address in Chuo-ku, Kitahama. Capital of 5 million yen."
"Registered in June 1988."
"Dissolved in 1989."
Endo closed his eyes, then opened them.
"A one-year company."
"Yes."
"The third company."
"'Osaka Shoto Building Materials.' Registered address..." Nagai paused. "Same as 'Powa Real Estate Development.' 1-3-12 Kitahama, Chuo-ku."
The conference room was silent for three seconds.
The same registered address, two companies.
One has been deregistered, one is still alive.
Endo pulled his hands back from the table, interlaced his fingers, and rested them on his knees.
"Warehouse receipts," he said.
Tadokoro immediately flipped out another stack of files. It was the warehouse receipt financing ledger received from the General Affairs Section that afternoon.
"There is a problem with the numbering sequence." Tadokoro stated the conclusion directly. "The warehouse receipt numbers for the 1989 fiscal year should normally run from WH-8901 to WH-8947, totaling forty-seven sheets."
"But there are only forty-two in the actual ledger."
"Five numbers are skipped."
He circled the five missing numbers with a red pen.
WH-8912. WH-8919. WH-8923. WH-8931. WH-8944.
Endo looked at the five red circles.
"What about the flow of the margin deposits?"
Tadokoro pulled a photocopy from the ledger appendix.
On it was printed Itoman's bank transfer record. The payer was "Itoman Corporation Osaka Headquarters," and the payee was an account number.
The account name column read: Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch, Third Custody Account.
"The margin deposit went into a Sumitomo Bank custody account," Tadokoro said. "The amount matches the collateral ratio for warehouse receipt financing, thirty percent of the face value."
"But the problem is—"
He turned to the next page.
"Itoman does not have the copies of the letters of credit corresponding to these five margin deposits."
Endo's fingers stopped on his knees.
"Have you confirmed it?"
"Confirmed. I asked Mitamura twice. He said, 'The original is in the bank's possession, and copies of the files need to be requested from the bank.'"
Endo did not speak.
He looked out the window. Through the gap in the blinds, he could see the gray wall of the Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch next door.
...
After work resumed in the afternoon, the atmosphere in the conference room was heavier than in the morning.
Tadokoro was flipping through the warehouse receipt ledger.
Endo stood by the window, the blinds left with only a finger-width gap.
His gaze passed through that gap and landed on the third floor of the Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch across the way.
The curtains of that window moved.
Very lightly, as if someone had used their finger to pull back a corner, watched for a few seconds, and then let it go.
Endo did not move.
At 2:40 PM, footsteps sounded in the corridor.
The footsteps stopped at the door.
They stopped for nearly ten seconds.
Then they left.
Tadokoro looked up at Endo. Endo shook his head slightly.
Exactly 3:00 PM.
Those hard-heeled shoes returned, and this time, there was no hesitation.
After two knocks, the door was pushed open from the outside.
A person walked in.
Around fifty years old, medium build, the tailoring of his dark gray suit was two grades better than Mitamura's.
His heels clicked crisply twice on the floor, and then he stood still in front of the table.
He handed over a business card.
Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch. Finance Department. Deputy General Manager.
Endo took the business card, looked at it for two seconds, and placed it on the table.
"Mr. Umeba, please have a seat."
Umeba did not sit.
He stood there, hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the people in the conference room and the documents spread out on the table.
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he had smelled something unpleasant.
Then he spoke.
"Mr. Endo. I am here as a representative of the creditor."
Endo remained seated, looking up at him slightly.
"Our side needs to confirm a few things beforehand."
Umeba pulled a piece of paper from his inner pocket.
"First. Internal bank materials, including loan review records, credit review opinions, and client rating reports, all belong to the bank's business secrets."
"Without the written consent of the Head Office Compliance Department, they may not be disclosed to external organizations."
He read out the second item on the paper.
"Second, client files may not be copied. Any client information in paper or electronic form may only be reviewed on-site by the external audit team and may not be taken out."
Third item.
"Third. Credit approval documents are part of the bank's internal decision-making process and are not within the scope of external verification."
Fourth item.
"Fourth, the bank only recognizes formal reconciliation letters."
"Reconciliation letters must be signed and stamped by the counterparty's financial officer and delivered via postal channels. Oral or telephone inquiries from external auditors will not be accepted."
Umeba crisply tucked the paper back into his inner pocket.
"The above four points are the unified stance of the Head Office Compliance Department. Please be advised."
The conference room was very quiet.
Tadokoro's pen stopped in mid-air. Nagai kept his head down, looking at his notebook.
The two technical document clerks exchanged a glance, then quickly looked away.
Endo did not move.
He leaned back in his chair, hands resting on the armrests, watching Umeba.
Three seconds.
Five seconds.
Then he smiled. It was a very small movement, with the corners of his mouth lifting only a millimeter.
"Mr. Umeba."
"Hmm."
"I understand everything you've said."
Endo's tone was flat, possessing quite a bit of Satsuki's essence.
"Banks have their own rules. We respect that."
Umeba's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Endo stood up.
He walked to the whiteboard and pulled down the cloth covering it. There was nothing written on it. Tadokoro had wiped the side with the red circles clean five minutes ago.
"However, today we are only looking at Itoman's own accounts."
Endo turned around and looked at Umeba.
"The trade contracts belong to Itoman."
"The warehouse receipts belong to Itoman."
"The invoices belong to Itoman."
"The bills of lading also belong to Itoman."
"The margin payment vouchers, the money sent out, also came from Itoman's accounts."
He paused for a beat.
"These items have nothing to do with internal bank materials, right?"
Umeba's eyes narrowed.
"...Of course. Itoman's own trade documents are indeed not within our scope of restriction."
"That's good."
Endo returned to his chair but did not sit down.
He reached out and picked up the copy of the margin payment voucher from the table, which was printed with "Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch, Third Custody Account," and held it up to a height where Umeba could see it.
"Mr. Umeba, there is one small question I would like to confirm."
Umeba's gaze fell on that piece of paper, his pupils contracting by less than half a millimeter.
"This margin payment was made by Itoman to your bank's custody account."
"The amount, date, and account name are all on Itoman's own bank transfer records."
Endo placed the paper back on the table.
"I am just curious. Itoman paid the margin, so logically they should have received the corresponding copy of the letter of credit."
"But they don't have it here."
He looked up.
"Does Mr. Umeba know why that is?"
Umeba's Adam's apple moved.
There was a two-second silence.
"You should ask Itoman's finance department that question," his voice was a bit stiffer than before. "The bank is only responsible for custody. We are not responsible for explaining why a client failed to keep their own copies safe."
Endo nodded. "That's true."
"Careless clients are truly a headache... aren't they?"
He did not press further.
"Then I won't disturb Mr. Umeba any further. If there are any matters requiring formal reconciliation later, we will use postal channels."
Umeba looked at him. Their gazes crossed in the air for less than a second.
Then Umeba turned around, his heels clicked twice on the floor, the door was pulled open, and then closed again.
The footsteps faded away along the corridor.
...
After the door was shut tight, no one in the conference room spoke.
Tadokoro was the first to break the silence.
"He came very quickly."
Endo put the margin payment voucher back into the folder.
"Mitamura made a call when he went out for lunch."
Tadokoro's hand stopped.
Endo pulled out a chair and sat down, pressing the loose cufflink above his shirt cuff back into place.
"Don't worry about it. It's better to let him come than not to."
Nagai turned over the business card Umeba had left behind to look at it. The back was blank.
"Mr. Endo, what should we do next?"
Endo leaned back against the chair. His gaze fell on the four binders, the five circled warehouse receipt numbers, and the names of the three shell companies on the table.
"Keep working."
He tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest.
"After tomorrow's original contracts arrive, focus on comparing the signatories, cargo descriptions, and delivery terms of those eleven advance payments."
"At the same time," he looked at the technical document clerks. "Create a summary table of the sources of all of Itoman's 'trade returns.' Categorize them by company name and note the amounts and dates."
"Yes."
Endo stood up and walked to the window.
Through the gap in the blinds, the gray wall of the Sumitomo Bank Osaka Main Branch stood quietly in the afternoon light.
Endo didn't look for too long. He turned back and said one last thing to Tadokoro.
"It doesn't matter if the bank doesn't give us the original records."
He put his hands into his suit pockets, his chin slightly lifted.
"Itoman's own accounts have already exposed them."
Tadokoro looked down at the margin payment vouchers on the table that lacked copies of the letters of credit.
Five margin payments, totaling over 400 million yen.
The money went into the bank's custody account, but the copies of the letters of credit had vanished into thin air.
Either the letters of credit were never opened, and the margin money turned into something else.
Or the letters of credit were opened, but the funds did not flow into any real trade. The letter of credit itself was just a scrap of paper, intended only to allow that margin money to flow reasonably from Itoman into the banking system.
No matter which case it was.
The answer was already written in front of them.
Endo looked at those vouchers, his fingers pausing for a moment on the edge of the folder.
"The things that were truly deleted are not in the bank's accounts."
His voice was very soft.
"They are in the attachments that Itoman thought no one would look at."
Outside the window, the surface of the Dojima River was ruffled by the wind.
Gray ripples spread out layer by layer, crashing against the stone embankment on the opposite bank and shattering into fine foam.
The sky in Osaka began to darken before four o'clock.
The fluorescent tubes in the conference room hummed. Endo pulled the blinds shut completely and turned to face the team.
"We're working overtime tonight. Before seven o'clock, summarize all confirmed anomalies into a memo."
"Fax it back to the Tokyo headquarters."
He glanced at the clock on the wall.
"The Eldest Miss is waiting."