Agent Matt: Academy of Shadows
Chapter 4: Observe And Report
At least they didn't have far to take him.
Two men brought Matt down from the crane, one above him on the ladder and one below. The police were waiting at the bottom. Watched by the incredulous construction workers, he was marched away from the building site and into the police station just a few doors away. As he passed the conference centre, he saw the crowds pouring out. Ambulances had already arrived. The home secretary was being whisked away in a black limousine. For the first time Matt was seriously worried, wondering if anyone had been killed. He hadn't meant it to end like this. Once they got to the police station, everything happened in a whirl of slamming doors, blank official faces, whitewashed walls, forms, and phone calls. Matt was asked his name, his age, his address. He saw a police sergeant tapping the details into a computer, but what happened next took him by surprise. The sergeant pressed ENTER and visibly froze. He turned and looked at Matt, then hastily left his seat, smiling nervously. When Matt had entered the police station, he had been the centre of attention, but suddenly everyone was avoiding his eye. A more senior officer appeared. Words were exchanged. Matt was led down a corridor and put into a cell. Half an hour later, a female police officer appeared with a tray of food.
"Supper," she said.
"What's happening?" Matt asked. The woman smiled nervously, but said nothing. "I left my bike by the bridge," Matt said.
"It's all right. We've got it." She couldn't leave the room fast enough. Matt ate the food: sausages, toast, a slice of cake and a pot of instant ramen already made. There was a bunk in the room and, behind a screen, a sink and a toilet. He wondered whether anyone was going to come in and talk to him, but nobody did. This must have been one of those VIP cells Matt read about, the ones where celebrities are usually held in, but why was he in one. Eventually he fell asleep.
The next thing he knew, it was seven o'clock in the morning. The door was open and a man he knew all too well was standing in the cell, looking down at him.
"Good morning, Matt," he said.
"Mr. Tomitake." Jirou Tomitake looked like a junior Finance manager, and when Matt had first met him, he had indeed been pretending that he worked as a junior finance manager for a TV Network. The cheap suit and striped tie could both have come from Brooks Brothers "Boring Businessman" section. In fact, Tomitake worked for JIN 7. Matt wondered if the clothes were a cover or a personal choice.
"You can come with me now," Tomitake said. "We're leaving."
"Are you taking me home?" Matt asked. He wondered if anyone had been told where he was.
"No. Not yet." Matt followed Tomitake out of the building. This time there were no police officers in sight. A car with a driver stood waiting outside. Tomitake got into the back with Matt.
"Where are we going?" Matt asked.
"You'll see." Tomitake opened a copy of the Tomoeda News and began to read. He didn't speak again. They drove east through the City and toward Orotaki Street. Matt knew at once where he was being taken, and sure enough, the car turned into the entrance of a seventeen-story building near the station and disappeared down a ramp into an underground parking lot. Matt had been here before. The building pretended to be the headquarters of the Fuji TV Network. In fact, this was where the Special Operations division of JIN 7 was based. The car stopped. Tomitake folded away his paper and got out, ushering Matt ahead of him. There was an elevator in the basement, and the two of them took it to the sixteenth floor. "This way." Tomitake gestured at a door marked 1615. The siege of Osaka castle, Matt thought. It was an absurd thing to flash into his mind, a fragment of the history lesson still replaying in his mind. He should have been in school today. The Siege of Osaka was a series of battles undertaken by the Tokugawa shogunate against the Toyotomi clan, and ending in that clan's destruction. Divided into two stages (Winter Campaign and Summer Campaign), and lasting from 1614 to 1615, the siege put an end to the last major armed opposition to the shogunate's establishment. The end of the conflict is sometimes called the Genna Armistice because the era name was changed from Keichō to Genna immediately following the siege.1615. Oh well, it looked as if he wasn't going to be in school today or for a while, because he knew every time he came here always ended the same way. Matt opened the door and went in. Tomitake didn't follow. When Matt looked around, the man was already walking away.
"Shut the door, Matt, and come in." Once again, Matt found himself standing opposite the prim, unsmiling man who ran JIN 7. Grey suit, grey face, grey life ... Korindo Ooishi seemed to belong to an entirely colourless world. He was sitting behind a wooden desk in a large square office that could have belonged to any business anywhere in the world. There was nothing personal in the room, not even a picture on the wall or a photograph on the desk. Even the pigeons pecking on the windowsill outside were grey. He was not alone. Mrs. Jensen, the deputy head of Special Operations, was with him, sitting on a leather chair, wearing a mud-brown jacket and dress, and as always, sucking a Strawberry and cream sweet. She looked up at Matt with black, beadlike eyes. She seemed to be more pleased to see him than her boss was. She was the one who had spoken. Ooishi had barely registered the fact that Matt had come into the room. Then Ooishi looked up.
"I hadn't expected to see you again so soon," he said.
"That's just what I was going to say," Matt replied. There was a single empty chair in the office. He sat down. Ooishi slid a sheet of paper across his desk and examined it briefly.
"What on earth were you thinking?" he demanded. "This business with the crane. You've done an enormous amount of damage. You practically destroyed a Four hundred million yen conference centre. It's a miracle nobody was killed."
"The two men who were in the boat will be in the hospital for months," Mrs. Jensen added.
"You could have killed the home secretary!" Ooishi continued. "That would have been the last straw. What were you doing?"
"They were drug dealers," Matt said.
"So we've discovered. But the normal procedure would have been to call 110."
"I couldn't find a phone." Matt sighed. "They turned off the crane," he explained. "I was going to put the boat next to the police department. On the doorstep." Ooishi blinked once and waved a hand as if dismissing everything that had happened.
"It's just as well that your special status came up on the police computer," he said. "They called us-and we've handled the rest."
"I didn't know I had special status," Matt said.
"Oh, yes, Matt. You're nothing if not special." Ooishi gazed at him for a moment. "That's why you're here. Our help doesn't come cheap."
"So you're not going to send me home?"
"No. The fact is, Matt, that we were thinking of contacting you anyway. We need you again."
"You're probably the only person who can do what we have in mind," Mrs. Jensen added.
"Wait a minute!" Matt shook his head. "I've still got two weeks of school before Easter. I'm far enough behind as it is. Suppose I'm not interested?"Mrs. Jensen sighed.
"We could, of course, return you to the police," she said. "As I understand it, they were very eager to interview you."
"And how is Miss Landers?" Ooishi asked.
Julie Landers-Matt still didn't know if her name was Julie or was short for Juliet -was the House keeper who had been looking after Matt since his Father died. She was a bright, red-haired English girl who had come to Tomoeda to study law but had never left. Ooishi wasn't interested in her health-Matt knew that. The last time they'd met, he'd made his position clear. So long as Matt did as he was told, he could keep living in his father's house with Julie. Step out of line and she'd be deported to England. Matt liked Julie. For years now, she'd almost been like a big sister to him. He also needed her. He knew that he was too young to live on his own and that once she was out of the picture, the authorities would have custody of him. That would mean some grim institution in the south of Japan away from everyone. Ooishi had made that clear too.
"She's fine," Matt said. There was a quiet anger in his voice. Mrs. Jensen took over.
"Come on, Matt," she said. "You can pretend to be anyone you want to be in the world; why pretend you're an ordinary schoolboy?" She was trying to sound more friendly, more like a mother. But even snakes have mothers' Matt thought. "You've already proven yourself once," she went on. "We're just giving you a chance to do it again."
"It'll probably come to nothing," Ooishi continued. "It's just something that needs looking into. What we call an Observe and report."
"Why can't Tomitake do it?"
"We need a boy." Matt fell silent. He looked from Ooishi to Mrs. Jensen and back again. He knew that neither of them would hesitate for a second before pulling him out of Readington, taking him away from his friends, and sending him ... wherever. Anyway, wasn't this what he had been asking for only the day before? Another adventure. Another chance to save the world. Maybe sakura was right, maybe he was bored.
"All right," he said. "What is it this time?"
Ooishi nodded at Mrs. Jensen, who unwrapped another Strawberry and cream and began.
"I wonder if you know anything about a man called Paul A. Jones?" she asked.
Matt thought for a moment. "He was that businessman who had an accident in New York." He'd seen the news on TV "Didn't he fall down an elevator shaft or something?"
"Jones Electronics is one of the largest companies in America," Mrs. Jensen said. "In fact, it's one of the largest in the world. Computers, videos, DVD players ... everything from cell phones to washing machines. Jones was very rich, very influential-"
"And very short sighted," Matt cut in.
"It certainly seems to have been a very strange and even careless accident," Mrs. Jensen agreed. "The elevator somehow malfunctioned. Jones didn't look where he was going. He fell into the shaft and died. That's the general opinion. However, we're not so sure."
"Why not?"
"First of all, there are a number of details that don't add up. On the day Jones died, a maintenance engineer by the name of Sam Green called at the office building on Fifth Avenue where Jones worked. We know it was Green-or someone who looked very much like him-because we've seen him. They have closed-circuit security cameras, and he was filmed going in. He said he'd come to look at a defective cable. But according to the company that employed him, there was no defective cable and he certainly wasn't acting under orders from them."
"Why don't you talk to him?"
"We d like to But Green has vanished without a trace. We think he may have been killed. We think someone may have taken his place and somehow set up the accident that killed Jones."
Matt shrugged.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Mr. Jones. But what's it got to do with me?"
"I'm coming to that." Jensen paused. "The strangest thing of all is that the day before he died,Jones telephoned this office. A personal call. He asked to speak to Korindo Ooishi."
"I met Jones at Cambridge University, when I studied overseas, much like your Julie." Ooishi said. "But that was a long time ago. We became friends." That surprised Matt. He didn't think of Ooishi as the sort of man who had friends.
"What did he say?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, I wasn't here to take the call," Ooishi replied. "I arranged to speak with him the following day. By that time, it was too late."
"Do you have any idea what he wanted?"
"I spoke to his assistant," Jensen said. "She wasn't able to tell me very much, but she understood that Jones wanted to talk to us about his son, He had a Fifteen-year old son, Arthur Jones." A fifteen - year- old son. Matt was beginning to see the way things were going.
"Arthur was his only son," Ooishi explained. "I'm afraid the two of them had a very difficult relationship. Jones divorced a few years ago, and although the boy chose to live with his father, they didn't really get along. There were the usual teenage problems, but of course, when you grow up surrounded by millions of dollars, these problems sometimes get amplified. Arthur was doing badly at school. He was playing hooky and spending time with some very undesirable friends. There was an incident with the New York police-nothing serious, and Jones managed to hush it up-but still, it upset him. I spoke to Jones from time to time. He was worried about Arthur and felt the boy was out of control. But there didn't seem to be very much he could do."
"So is that what you want me for?" Matt interrupted. "You want me to meet this boy and talk to him about his father's death?"
"No." Ooishi shook his head and handed a file to Jensen. She opened it. Matt caught a glimpse of a photograph: a dark skinned man in military uniform.
"Remember what we told you about Jones?" she said, "Because now I want to tell you about another man." She slid the photograph around so that Matt could see it. "This is General Major Anton Vanko. Ex-KGB. Until last December he was the head of the Foreign Intelligence Service and probably the second or third most powerful man in Russia after the president. But then something happened to him too. It was a boating accident on the Black Sea. His cruiser exploded ... nobody knows why."
"Was he a friend of Jones's?" Matt asked.
"They probably never met. But we have a department here that constantly monitors world news, and their computers have thrown up a very strange coincidence. Vanko also had a fifteen-year-old son. . . Dimitry. And one thing is certain. The young Vanko certainly knew the young Jones because they went to the same school."
"Arthur and Dimitry . . ." Matt was puzzled. "What was a Russian boy doing at a school in New York?"
"He wasn't in New York." Ooishi took over. "As I told you, Jones was having trouble with his boy. Trouble at school, trouble at home. So last year he decided to take action. He sent Arthur to Europe, to a place in France a sort of finishing school. Do you know what a finishing school is?"
"I thought it was the sort of place where rich people used to send their daughters," Matt said. "To learn table manners and stuff."
"That's the general idea. But this school is for boys only, and not just ordinary boys. The fees are two million yen a term. This is the brochure here. You can have a look." He passed a heavy square booklet to Matt. Written on the cover, Black letters on gold were two words:
Ombre Académie
"It's right on the French-Swiss border," he explained. "South of Geneva. Just above Grenoble, in the French Alps. It's pronounced ombre Académie." He spoke the words with a French accent. "It literally means, Shadow Academy. It's a remarkable place. Built as a private home by some lunatic in the nineteenth century. As a matter of fact, that's what it became after he died-a lunatic asylum. It was taken over by the Germans in the Second World War. They used it as a recreation centre for their senior staff. After that it fell into disrepair until it was bought by the current owner, a man called Sorrow. Dr. Howard Sorrow. He's the principal of the school." Matt opened the brochure and found himself looking at a colour photograph of Ombre Académie. Ooishi was right. The school was like nothing he had ever seen, something between a German castle and a French chateau, straight out of a Grimm's' fairy tale. But what made Matt draw his breath, more than the building itself, was the setting. The school was perched on top of a mountain, with nothing but mountains all around it. A great pile of brick and stone surrounded by a snow-covered landscape. It seemed to have no business being there, as if it had been snatched out of an ancient city and accidentally dropped there. No roads led to or from the school. The snow continued all the way to the front gate. But looking again, Matt saw a modern helicopter pad projecting over the battlements. He guessed that it was the only way to get there ... and to leave.
He turned the page.
Welcome to Ombre Académie
The introduction began. It had been printed with the sort of lettering Matt would expect to find in the menu of an expensive restaurant.
A unique school that is much more than a school, created for boys who need more than the ordinary education system can provide. In our time, we have been called a school for "problem children," but we do not believe the term applies. There are problems and there are children. It is our aim to separate the two. Our motto is:
Send us your problem boys and we will return them a "Shadow of their former self's."
"There's no need to read all that stuff," Ooishi said. "All you need to know is that the academy takes in boys who have been expelled from all their other schools. There are never very many of them there just six or seven at a time. And it's unique in other ways too. For a start, it takes only the sons of the super-rich."
"At Two million yen per term, I'm not surprised," Matt said.
"You'd be surprised just how many parents have applied to send their sons there," Ooishi went on. "But I suppose you've only got to look at the newspapers to see how easy it is to go off the rails when you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth. It doesn't matter if they're politicians or pop stars, fame and fortune for the parents often bring problems for the children ... and the more successful they are, the more pressure there seems to be. The academy went into business to straighten the young people out, and by all accounts it's been a great success."
"It was established twenty years ago," Mrs. Jensen said. "In that time it's had a client list you'd find hard to believe. Of course, they've kept the names confidential. But I can tell you that parents who have sent their children there include an American vice president, a Nobel Prize-winning scientist, and a member of our own royal family."
"As well as Jones and this man, Vanko," Matt said.
"Yes." Matt shrugged.
"So it's a coincidence. Just like you said. Two rich parents with two rich kids at the same school. They're both killed in accidents. Why are you so interested?"
"Because I don't like coincidence," Ooishi replied. "In fact, I don't believe in coincidence. Where some people see coincidence, I see conspiracy. That's my job." And you're welcome to it, Matt thought. What he said was,
"Do you really think the school and this man-Sorrow-might have had something to do with the two deaths? Why? Had the parents forgotten to pay the fees?" Ooishi didn't smile.
"Jones telephones me because he's worried about his son. The next day the man's dead. We've also learned from Russian intelligence sources that a week before he died, Vanko had a violent argument with his son. Apparently Vanko was worried about something. Now do you see the link?" Matt thought for a moment.
"So you want me to go and look into this school," he said. "How are you going to manage that? I don't have parents, and they were never rich anyway."
"We've already arranged for that," Mrs. Jensen said, and Matt realized that she must have made her plans before the business with the crane ever happened. Even if he hadn't drawn attention to himself, they would have come for him anyway. "We're going to supply you with a wealthy father. His name is George Hiroku."
"Hiroku ... as in Hiroku Supermalls?" Matt had seen the name often enough in the newspapers.
"Supermalls. Department stores. Art galleries. Soccer teams." Mrs. Jensen paused. "Hiroku is certainly a member of the same club as Jones. The billionaires' club. He's also heavily involved in government circles, as personal adviser to the prime minister and has a seat on the United Nations. Very little happens in this country without George being involved in some way."
"We've created a false identity for you," Ooishi said. "From this moment on, I want you to start thinking of yourself as Matt Hiroku, the fifteen-year-old son of George Hiroku. You've been expelled from six private schools. You have a criminal record ... shoplifting, vandalism, and possession of drugs. George and his wife, Christine, don't know what to do with you. So they've enrolled you in the academy. And you've been accepted."
"Isn't school vacation about to start?"
"They don't have official vacations. The school is open all year round."
"And George has agreed to all this?" Matt asked. Ooishi sniffed.
"As a matter of fact, he wasn't very happy about it-about using someone as young as you. But I spoke to him at some length and yes, he agreed to help."
"So when am I going to the academy?"
"Eight days from now," Mrs. Jensen said. "But first you have to immerse yourself in your new life. When you leave here, we've arranged a few things for you, after that you will be taken to George's home. He has a house just outside the small village Hinamizawa. He lives there with his wife, and he has a daughter. She's a year older than you. You'll spend the rest of the week with the family, which should give you time to learn everything you need to know. It's vital that you have a strong cover. After that, you'll leave for Grenoble."
"And what do I do when I get there?"
"We'll give you a full briefing nearer the time. Essentially, your job is to find out everything you can. It may be that this school is perfectly ordinary and that there was in fact no connection between the deaths. If so, we'll pull you out. But we want to be sure."
"How will I get in touch with you?"
"We'll arrange all that." Mrs. Jensen ran an eye over Matt, and then turned to Ooishi. "We'll have to do something about his appearance," she said. "He doesn't exactly look the part."
"See to it." Ooishi said. Matt sighed. It was strange, really. He was simply going from one school to another, from a Tomoeda comprehensive to a finishing school in France. It wasn't quite the adventure he'd been hoping for. He stood up and followed Mrs. Jensen out of the room. Before he left, he turned to Ooishi and asked.
"Have you told Julie where I am?" he asked.
"Of course. She doesn't seem to like our idea of ... employing you. Actually, I must remember to get her to sign the Official Secrets Act. I wouldn't want her talking to the wrong people." Matt nodded and left the room with Mrs. Jensen. As he left, Ooishi was already sifting through his documents as if he'd forgotten that Matt had been there or even existed.