H. ‘Die !!’
I. ‘Let’s talk this thing over like sensible human beings –’
H. ‘DIE !!!’
I. ‘I was only trying to do what seemed best at the time.’
H. ‘DIE!!! !’
I. ‘General MacArthur said I helped to shorten the war by several years –’
H. ‘Die!! DIE!! DIE!! Do not run, dog. Stand and fight like a man.’
I. ‘And save hundreds of thousands of lives. Of course most of them were American but –’
Ishowi ducks and weaves and every few minutes gets into a position from which he can deliver a few words whilst Hideyoshi swings non-stop. Whatever you think of Ishowi, you have to admit that the supplier of the Nogget Nugget is a born survivor. But how long can be keep his bonce out of harm’s way? He is beginning to wilt visibly, whilst Hideyoshi seems to have boundless energy. The same thought must have occurred to Ishy because he makes a last despairing lunge with his Nugget and then turns and races out of the room with Hideyoshi in hot pursuit. Truscott’s salesmen and Hotel staff scatter in all directions. Still clutching the Nugget, Ishowi dives into an office and the key turns in Hideyoshi’s face.
For a moment there is silence broken only by Hideyoshi’s heavy breathing and the sound of Sidney thinking out loud.
‘If we could get the cleaner out we would be able to get on with the demonstration,’ he says.
‘I kill him,’ says Hideyoshi.
‘This is terrible!’ moans Truscott. ‘What’s the matter with you, Sam lad. Have you gone mad?’
‘I’m sorry Mr. Truscott but that man is a war criminal and he must die.’
‘But he helped us,’ I bleat.
‘Precisely.’
‘Could we do the demonstration first, and then you can kill him?’ pleads Sidney. ‘It really is a shame to have got all your men together and –’
‘We can’t have anybody killing anybody,’ gasps Truscott. ‘Think of the publicity. Come on, Sam lad, pull yourself together. Let him out.’
‘He must die.’
‘Oh my gawd.’
‘Better get the police.’
‘Oh no.’
‘That’s the manager’s office,’ says a prune-faced receptionist. ‘He’s not going to like this.’
‘Booger what he likes,’ says Truscott. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Hand the Nugget out of the hatch and no harm will come to you,’ says Sid, speaking through the keyhole, ‘and don’t forget the attachments.’
‘Shoot oop, you fool,’ snaps Truscott. ‘I’m not interested in the bloody cleaner.’
‘But Ernest –’
‘Shoot oop, he’s trying to say something.’
Sure enough, through the door we can hear Ishowi’s voice, clear and unwavering:
‘I, Ishowi Mifune, have been unworthy of the great trust placed in me and have decided that there is only one honourable course of action open to me –’
Hideyoshi nods his head in satisfaction.
‘He’s coming out?’ says Sid.
‘He is going to slit his belly.’
‘Oh, no!!’ Truscott bangs his fist against his head. ‘He can’t do that!’
‘He has found the path of honour at last,’ says Hideyoshi solemnly. Now he can be welcomed into his father’s house.’
‘Oh, my gawd!’ exclaims Sid.
The voice from within the room continues ‘– it is my intention to commit ritual Hara Kiri and to beg the forgiveness of all for my unworthiness. Since the instrument of much of the suffering I have lately caused is within my grasp, I intend to employ that. Excuse one moment while I connect the attachment.’
‘Oh no, he can’t!’
‘Not with a Noggett Nugget.’
‘Think of the publicity.’
‘It’s better than nothing I suppose,’ says Sid thoughtfully.
‘Are you mad?’ yells Trustcott. ‘“Jap uses Nugget cleaner for ritual disembowelment”. What kind of publicity is that?’
‘Quiet please,’ says Hideyoshi holding up a hand. ‘Please respect silence for Hara Kiri.’
‘We can’t just stand here and let him do it. There must be another way in.’
‘Smash the door down.’ But, even as we speak the high pitched whine of the Nugget freezes the words in our mouths.
A black-jacketed manager speeds to our side.
‘What’s happening in there?’
‘A man is killing himself with a vacuum cleaner.’
‘Very tidy of him.’
Truscott winces. ‘This is not a joke.’
‘Ssh!’ says Hideyoshi.
‘I hope this spot of unpleasantness isn’t going to turn you against the product,’ whispers Sid to Truscott. ‘We can soon get another one in. It won’t take –’
‘Give over, will you!’ groans Truscott. ‘I never want to see another cleaner as long as I live. I think I’m going to throw oop.’
‘Typical of our bloody luck that he’d have to take the only bloody cleaner that works,’ snarls Sid in my ear. ‘He could have died of old age before he did himself in with some of them.’
‘Shut up, Sid.’
The Nugget continues to drone on and suddenly there is a disturbing variation of pitch that sets my teeth on edge.
‘It’s taking a long time, isn’t it? I always said the motor on the new batch was underpowered.’
‘Shut up, Sid!!’
‘Grab hold of this!’ A party of Truscott’s salesmen have found a bench and, despite Hideyoshi’s protests that it is very bad form to interrupt, they are preparing to use it as a battering ram. There is no rush to be first man on the bench but eventually we line up across the hall and make a stumbling run at the door. Crunch! The first charge does nothing more than jar our fingers but on the third sortie there is a splintering noise and the door springs open.
‘Well –?’ For a moment I choose not to look. When I do I can see nothing but the Noggett Nugget propped against a chair with its motor still running. There is no sign of Ishowi. Maybe the manager was right. I glance gingerly towards the dirt bag.
‘The safe!’ The manager races towards the open safe. Smoke is rising from the area of the lock. ‘There were the staff’s wages in there.’ We follow his eyes to a small grill above a filing cabinet. It is open.
‘The cunning bastard!!’
‘He used the Nugget to open the safe.’
We all turn on our heels and race to the front of the hotel but there is no sign of Ishowi,
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘He won’t get far.’
‘I would not bet on that.’ Hideyoshi shakes his head wisely. ‘Many men have searched for that one for many years. They have not found him yet.’
To my surprise Sidney is