Roadside stations were designated by an application system in which the Bureau of Public Roads in the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport, and Tourism registered the sites that fulfilled the eligibility requirements.
“It meets all the requirements of a roadside station perfectly,” Sora went on. “A resting space that can be used for free, twenty-four seven. An expansive parking area. Hygienic toilets, and this one has the newest models installed. A well-equipped place for people with babies. The shop will stock local specialty products and souvenirs, and several restaurants that used to be in the area before the disaster will open nearby.”
“All that’s left is getting registered,” Tamuramaro observed. He was staring at the building on the screen with his palm pressed against his mouth. The structure had a wooden look that blended in well with its natural surroundings: the kind of building that would become a familiar, well-loved place in the local area while also attracting visitors from afar.
“For a start, I checked all the extant documents from the last five years, but there aren’t nearly enough purchase requisitions for the corresponding construction fees, and no deposit to cover the fees for the building works, either.”
“But even if it’s not a public construction project, they must be going through the local government.”
“There’s no way they wouldn’t be. They have to for the registration application process, and besides, the construction work is right next to local roads and waterways that belong in the non-statutory public properties. They must have applied for permission from the city’s construction department. Even if we were to disregard all the paperwork, it would be impossible to pull off a building project of this scale without the consent of the city or its citizens.”
They racked their brains together to figure out the narrative behind this case.
“So there was a plan for the roadside station to begin with, but it went out the window, and Odajima Construction built it anyway because that’s what the chairman wanted. Is that what this means?” Tamuramaro suggested.
“Likely. Since he was familiar with the procedure, he arranged the application, and neither the local government nor the citizens suspect anything behind the new roadside station candidate. Though the chairman probably has support from people there, including some in the local government.”
“What a force of nature, that old man!”
“Don’t underestimate the elderly. When I found this, I shuddered.” Sora’s mouth twitched in a slight smile, as if he was making an uncharacteristic attempt at a joke. “I’m glad you came down.”
“Don’t leap too far all at once. You’ll trip.” Tamuramaro shrugged, joking that hail would be the least of their worries then.
“But I just don’t understand where the funds came from,” said Sora. “The most virtuous scenario would be Chairman Odajima being a super volunteer and putting in money from his savings stashed away at home.”
“Those savings would mean he was hiding his income, wouldn’t it? He can’t get off the hook for that. But this construction project would cost at least in the hundred millions, if not a billion. Personal savings wouldn’t cover it. I suspect the funds came from here.”
Tamuramaro opened his tablet and showed Sora an article he’d saved.
“‘No Bids for Investor Relations: Exclusive Win for Odajima Construction’?” Sora read the headline out loud. “But it says this comprehensive resort project has both pros and cons, and with the resistance from the locals, it’s at a standstill. Even though Odajima Construction was assigned the project, they wouldn’t have received the funds yet, right?”
“IR is desperate to get this built. But it keeps getting pushed back further and further, and there’s no telling when it’ll come through, so general contractors withdrew from the project. The IR side wants to establish a fait accompli, so they’ve already paid the initial funds to Odajima Construction. Seven hundred million.”
“With seven hundred million, the roadside station would be possible—and all they have to do is get it officially registered, and the owners can pay back their debt in the future.”
The figure of seven hundred million that Tamuramaro had pointed out was in the public records as the outcome of the bid. Most data on public construction tenders was made public online, so anyone could view it if they wanted to. On the flip side, no one would look into it if they didn’t have a reason to, so it was perfectly possible that anything suspicious in the records would remain overlooked until the data retention period was over, and it passed into obscurity. That is, it could go unnoticed if someone deliberately put a stop to any close inspection by the nation’s Board of Audit or the Public Prosecutors’ Office.
“On top of all that, there’s a member of the Diet named Yamagata who’s rumored to have helped bring about the exclusive appointment for Odajima Construction in the resort bid. And when you trace back their relationship, Yamagata and the chairman have always been close.” With a shrug, Tamuramaro tapped through all the documents he’d gathered.
An expansive shopping mall that Odajima Construction had worked on ten years ago was located in Yamaguchi Prefecture, where Yamagata was from. There were articles from twenty, thirty years ago with rumors of monetary contributions and corruption over public construction projects.
“When smoke rises, they put it out. Looks like that’s been their method with these rumors,” Tamuramaro observed.
The two of them were silent for a while. It wasn’t so difficult to construct a clear narrative with the information they’d collected, but it took time for them to process the implications.
“Ummm. So the chairman pretended to take on the project from IR that no one else wanted, then appropriated the funds to draw up plausible application papers and went right ahead with building North Station?” said Sora.
“Looks like it. And it’s opening to the public soon. Actually, it’s really soon, the week after next.”
They’d both witnessed most kinds of malpractices in their 1,200 years, but it was the first time they’d encountered such a large-scale and reckless operation.
“I have no idea what to do,” Sora said, utterly stunned.