asako was finally getting over her cold. For the first time in a week, she was feeling good. The face that stared back at her from the mirror looked a bit drawn, but the cheeks were tight and the eyes were rested and less swollen - not bad for someone about to do the job she had coming up.

Fortunately, Yoshiki had left for the office on schedule, and Nobuki had an early start. Since their exchange that night, Yoshiki seemed even more set on hiding himself away in his room; probably strengthening his defences, to keep from getting hurt now that he knew she might be leaving. It was like being separated while still living under the same roof, and it made Masako sad despite her best efforts to forget the whole situation. On the other hand, Nobuki had started to say a few words from time to time, and even if it was only to ask about dinner, it was encouraging.

She had removed the soap and shampoo bottles from the bathroom and spread the vinyl sheet over the tiles. She opened the window to release the damp air from last night's bath. The day promised to be an unseasonably warm one, but even her restored health and the good weather weren't enough to mask the anxiety she was feeling. How could she explain her worries to Jumonji and Yoshie, especially when they seemed so eager for the work? A mysterious stranger, lurking in the shadows? They'd laugh at her. In fact, she now had a shrewd idea of his identity. It had come to her as she lay in bed with her cold. But there was no proof, of course.

Closing and locking the window, she wandered out to the entrance hall. She felt impatient, but it wasn't expectation, it was fear that made her like this. And it wasn't the body itself but the next development, the next act in the play, she was dreading. She felt as though she were out of control, hurtling along with no idea where she was going, and it made her nervous - and scared.

Slipping into her son's huge beach sandals, she stepped down into the entrance. She couldn't go back and wait in the house, and she couldn't go out to meet Jumonji, so here she stood, stuck in between. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, trying to keep uneasiness at bay.

'Shit,' she hissed, hoping that swearing would help. It all seemed wrong. More than anything else, she hated being pushed along by circumstances before she had time to prepare herself which was probably exactly what this hidden opponent of theirs intended.

She knew that Jumonji's flashy car would be conspicuous parked in front of the house again, even for a few minutes, and she'd meant to use her Corolla this time. But there had been no time for that. They had been lucky before, but that didn't mean their luck would hold. It made her mad to think that she'd got herself involved in something so misguided; and she found she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they'd overlooked something, made some terrible mistake. As she hesitated in the doorway, her uneasiness began to swell like a balloon, threatening to explode at any moment. Finally, unable to keep still, she opened the door and went out.

The day was warm. The neighbourhood was quiet as always. A single strand of smoke rose lazily from a pile of leaves burning in the field across the way. The sound of a propeller could be heard in the distance, and nearby the soft clatter of someone washing dishes. An ordinary morning in the suburbs. Masako stared at the red earth of the vacant lot across the street. The woman who'd made such a fuss about wanting to buy it had disappeared. Everything was exactly as it always was - then why did it seem so ominous? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bicycle brakes.

'Morning,' Yoshie called. She had thrown on an old black windbreaker, probably one of Miki's, over her usual grey sweatsuit. Her eyes, red from lack of sleep, squinted in the morning light just as Masako's did when she'd been at work.

'Good morning, Skipper,' she said. 'Are you ready for this?'

'I think so,' Yoshie said, her expression more determined than usual. 'I'm the one who bugged you about it.'

'Let's get inside,' Masako said as Yoshie was parking her bike. She slipped in through the door and pulled off her shoes.

'How's your cold?' Yoshie said with a solicitous glance in her direction. She had been sick ever since the night she'd gone to Yoshie's house in the rain, and hadn't been to work.

'Much better,' said Masako.

'I'm glad. But this can't be the best thing for it, not with all that cold water.' They had realised last time that it was better to leave the water running while they cut up the body.

'Is everything okay at the factory?' Masako asked.

'I'd been meaning to tell you,' she said, her voice sinking to a whisper. 'Kuniko quit.'

'She did?'

'All of a sudden, three days ago. The boss tried to get her to change her mind, but you know how she is. She hasn't shown up since.' Yoshie stripped off her jacket and folded it into a neat bundle. Masako stared idly at the white flannel lining that was worn thin in places. 'And Yayoi doesn't come any more either. I've been all by myself since you came down with a cold. It gets a bit lonely there, so I've been jacking up the speed on the line to eighteen. You should see them scramble - and hear them gripe. Bunch of babies.'

'Sounds like fun,' Masako said.

'And that Brazilian guy asked about you last night.'

'Brazilian guy?'

'The young one; Miyamori -1 forget the other name.'

'What did he say?'

'He asked if you'd quit. I think he's got a thing for you.' Ignoring the teasing tone, Masako recalled the forlorn look on Kazuo's face as he stood staring after her that summer. It all seemed so long ago. Yoshie waited a moment for her to say something but then went on. 'I couldn't believe how much his Japanese has improved. I suppose you can do that when you're young.' Yoshie was unusually chatty this morning, presumably from nervous energy before the job. Masako let the words wash over her, like a sudden rain shower, waiting for a break in the flow to bring up her own worries. But just then they heard a car pull up outside.

'He's here!' Yoshie squealed, hopping up.

'Wait a second,' Masako said, putting her eye to the peephole and looking outside. Jumonji's car was backing up to the house, right on time. She opened the door a bit and peered out. He had already come around to the back of the car, his face wan and oily from a sleepless night.

'Katori-san,' he whispered through the door, 'I'm afraid you're not going to like this one.'

'Why?' she said.

'It's a woman,' he murmured. Masako flinched. The job was horrible enough, but it seemed even more gruesome to work on a woman's body. Jumonj i glanced around and then quickly unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid. At the sight of the cocoonlike bundle, Masako backed away. The old man had been small, too, but he was thin, almost fleshless. This time the body was hefty, with a generous swelling at the chest.

'What's wrong?' Yoshie said. Peeking around her, she let out a little gasp. Kenji and the other body had also come wrapped in blankets, but there was something more sinister about the careful way this one had been tied around and around with rope.

'Let's get it inside,' Jumonji said, averting his eyes as he reached into the trunk. Masako went to help, grabbing one end of the limp, heavy form, and together they managed to get it back to the bathroom. 'This one really bothers me,' Jumonji said. 'The guy who brought it scared me to death.'

'Why?' Masako said.

'You could just tell he killed her.'

'How could you?' Yoshie said, holding her hand over her heart to stop the pounding. 'He was probably just delivering it.'

'I know it sounds weird, but you could just tell!' His eyes were bloodshot and he was half shouting. Masako said nothing, but it struck her that he was probably right. It had been the same with Yayoi that night: something about her made it obvious what she'd done.

'You're the man,' Yoshie said, holding out a pair of scissors. 'You unwrap it.'

'Me?' Jumonji said.

'I don't see any other men around,' she said, throwing the word 'men' at him like an insult. 'Show some initiative!' Gingerly picking up the scissors, he bent over and cut away the ropes. Then he gripped the edge of the blanket and pulled on it. Two thick white legs flopped out, with traces of purple bruising on the back of them. Yoshie screamed and hid behind Masako. Next came a fleshy torso, apparently unmarked, with one heavy breast falling away to either side. The woman was fat, but still in the prime of life. The naked body lay exposed before them, but the head was still shrouded in the blanket, as if reluctant to give up its secret. As Masako reached down to help Jumonji finish the job, her hand suddenly froze. The head was covered with a black plastic bag that had been secured around the neck with another rope. 'This is awful,' Yoshie muttered, backing into the dressing area. Jumonji looked as though he might be sick.

'You don't think they've cut off the face?' he said. 'I couldn't take that.'

'Wait a minute,' Masako said, struck by a sudden premonition. She took the scissors from him and cut away the bag with a few quick snips. 'I thought so,' she said. 'It's Kuniko.'

There she lay, her eyes half open, her tongue hanging out stupidly, and her shifty eyes and greedy mouth gone slack. The bathroom, which had simply been a convenient place to cut up unknown bodies, seemed suddenly transformed into a funeral hall now that it was filled with this familiar shape. Jumonji stood frozen over it as Yoshie sobbed in the background.

'What did that man look like?' Masako said, her voice urgent. 'Who was he?'

'I didn't get a good look at him,' Jumonji said, sounding exhausted. 'He was tall and he looked pretty tough. He had a deep voice '

'Like half the men in the city,' Masako said, her exasperation showing.

'How should I know what he looked like?' he whined, turning away. Yoshie had sunk down in the dressing area and was crying quietly. Masako could hear her mumbling to herself.

'It's our punishment,' she was saying. 'We should never have done this.'

'Shut up!' Masako yelled, lurching through the door and grabbing Yoshie by the collar. 'Don't you understand? They're after us!' Yoshie looked at her blankly, as though she were speaking a foreign language.

'What do you mean?'

'Isn't it obvious? They sent us Kuniko!'

'I'm sure it's just a coincidence,' she whispered.

'How can you say that?!' Masako could hear her voice rising to a shrill wail, but she couldn't stop herself. She shoved her finger in her mouth and bit it.

'I had a bad feeling about this,' Jumonji interrupted. 'They told me to pick up the body at the back of Koganei Park.'

'Koganei Park?' said Masako, feeling a chill run through her. So they knew everything. They knew how to get to Kuniko and how to send her as a warning. But why? She turned to look at the body sprawled out behind her. 'You fool!' she screamed at it. 'Tell us what's going on!'

Jumonji took her arm. 'Katori-san, are you all right?'

'Masako?' Yoshie said.

'Maybe now you'll believe me,' she said, spinning around to face them.

'Believe what?'

'That somebody's after us. They got to Yayoi and found out what we did; and they've been watching me, too. Now they've killed Kuniko and figured out how to get her body here.'

'But what do they want?' asked Yoshie, still sobbing. 'Even if they did kill Kuniko, why would they send her here? It's got to be a coincidence.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Masako said. 'They wanted us to know that they've figured out the whole thing.'

'But why?'

'They want revenge,' said Masako, and as soon as the word had left her mouth the puzzle seemed to solve itself. Of course, that was it. He wanted revenge, an elaborate, expensive revenge. She'd been wrong in thinking it was about the insurance money. If it was money he wanted, would he have spent millions of yen to get Kuniko's body here to scare them? But that made the whole thing even more terrifying. She fought the urge to break down in tears.

'But who is it?' Jumonji said, frowning.

'I'm not sure, but I'd guess it's the casino owner. He's the only one that fits.' Yoshie and Jumonji looked at each other.

'Who is he?' he said. Masako was sorting through old newspaper articles in her mind.

'Mitsuyoshi Satake,' she said at last, remembering. 'He's fortythree years old. They released him for lack of evidence, and after that he disappeared.'

'Does the age match the man you saw?' Yoshie asked.

'I don't know. It was dark and he was wearing a cap. But the voice would be about right. So I guess I'm the only one who's seen him - and I hope I never have to again.' He grimaced at the memory.

'What are we going to do?' Yoshie said, beginning to cry again. 'What should I do?' Masako was still gnawing at her finger.

'Take the money and run,' she said.

'But I can't leave,' Yoshie sobbed.

'Then you'll just have to be as careful as you can,' she told her, turning back to the body. First they had to figure out what to do with Kuniko. Should they cut her up? But there was no need to go to all that trouble now. Their client wasn't interested in having her disappear; she was meant as a threat. Still, it was too risky to just dump her.

'What are we going to do with her?' she said.

'Let's go to the police,' said Yoshie, squatting by the washing machine. 'I don't want to sit around waiting to end up like her.'

'Then we'll all go to jail. Is that what you want?'

'No,' she stammered. 'Then what do we do?'

'We get rid of her,' Jumonji said, staring at Kuniko's heavy breasts.

'But where?'

'Anywhere, it doesn't matter. And then we lie low for a while.'

'I agree,' Masako said. 'But I think we need to make sure this murder gets pinned on Satake.'

'And how are we going to do that?' Jumonji asked, looking sceptical.

'I don't know. But I want him to know we aren't just running scared.'

'Are you crazy?' Yoshie groaned. 'Why do we care what he thinks?'

'We've got to hit back. If we don't, he'll come after the rest of us, one at a time.'

'But what have you got in mind?' Jumonji said, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

'You don't suppose we could send her back to him?'

'We don't know where he is,' Yoshie said.

'No, I guess we don't.'

'Okay,' said Jumonji, holding up his hands between them. 'Let's try to think this through slowly and carefully. We can't afford any more mistakes.'

Masako suddenly noticed the wad of black cloth protruding from Kuniko's mouth. Slipping on a pair of gloves, she pulled it out. Fancy panties, with lace trim. She remembered the cheap underwear Kuniko had always worn to the factory. Knowing Kuniko, she'd put these on hoping someone would be taking them off.

'He must have used them as a gag when he strangled her,' Jumonji said, examining the thick rope marks on the neck.

Still holding the panties, Masako asked him, 'Did he strike you as good-looking?'

'I told you, I didn't get a good look at his face, but he was well built.' He must have come on to her, Masako thought, trying to remember whether Kuniko had mentioned anyone who might fit the description. But they hadn't talked much lately, and it was unlikely she would have told her.

'I guess we have to cut her up,' she said eventually, abandoning the effort to solve the puzzle. 'We don't have much choice.'

'No, I don't want to,' Yoshie murmured. 'Not Kuniko.'

'Then you don't need the money?' Masako said. 'You can forget about the million I promised you, and I'll keep your share for this, too.'

'Wait a minute,' said Yoshie, hopping up. 'I still have to move.'

'That's what I thought. You can't stay in that fire trap.' Masako then turned to Jumonji, who was standing there, watching them argue. 'Why don't you go get the boxes? We'll stick with the original plan: you can take care of them in Kyushu.'

'So we're going through with it?' he said.

'What else can we do?' Masako tried to swallow, but the saliva stuck in her throat as if her body were loath to accept it. In the same way her mind refused to accept what was facing them.

Jumonji seemed only too glad of the chance to get out of there. Noticing how eager he was to go, Masako gave him a hard stare.

'You can start running as soon as we're finished,' she said. 'Not before. Okay?'

'I know,' he said.

'We've still got a job to do,' she added. He nodded glumly, like a child who'd been scolded. 'And what about you?' Masako said, turning to Yoshie who sat gazing at Kuniko's body.

'... I'm in/ she said. 'I can start thinking about moving as soon as we're through.'

'You do what you have to do,' Masako said.

'Where will you go?'

'Nowhere, for the time being.'

'Why?' Yoshie cried. But Masako didn't seem to hear her; she was busy thinking about something Jumonji had said - that he was the only one who had seen him. She wondered if this was true, if she hadn't seen Satake somewhere herself. The thought stuck in her head.

'I'll be right back,' Jumonji said, before disappearing down the corridor. Masako started tying on her apron.

'Skipper, set the line to eighteen,' she said.