BLACK MIST
A Screenplay
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This screenplay is based on actual events that took place between 1945 and 1949 in Occupied Japan. The author wishes to acknowledge the invaluable assistance he received from Prof. Chalmers Johnson's brilliant CONSPIRACY AT MATSUKAWA (Berkeley, 1972); interested readers will find many if not all of the historical reconstructions in this tale substantiated in this disturbing study of political chaos and official misconduct in Occupied Japan.
In his highly-regarded history THE PACIFIC WAR, Prof. Saburo Ienaga provides scholarly proof that supports my recreation of the terrible and shocking Teigin Bank mass poisoning of January 26, 1948, the greatest and most famous mass murder in postwar Japanese history; for the narrative purposes of this story I have this event take place at the end of August 1949, but otherwise the essential details of this horrifying crime in which U.S. Occupation personnel were implicated remain unchanged.
A man away from home has no neighbors.
Ancient Japanese proverb
FADE IN:
ESTABLISHING SHOT:
EXT. CITYSCAPE -
Onscreen we read:
OCCUPIED
THE CAMERA PANS over the ruined, rubble-strewn plain of bombed-out
Slowly, from above, as if from a bomber, the CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON:
A deserted city street, still gleaming with rain. It is silent and empty. Only a couple of streetlights are burning; the buildings are all darkened, owing to the postwar power shortage.
Across the street we can see a huge gray granite building that occupies an entire city block; a large brass plaque identifies it as the Bank of Nippon.
Suddenly two JEEPS full of American MPs swing around the corner and screech to a halt in front of the bank. Five canvas-covered trucks pull up behind them, forming a line.
Eight MPs scramble out of the jeeps and hurry up the steps to the bank. While the rest nervously stand guard at the entrance, their leader—a hatchet-faced man with short blond hair and hard eyes named SERGEANT JIM KRAMER—snaps a jangling keyring off his belt and begins unlocking the front door.
MP
(to JIM)
C'mon, man, hurry it up.
JIM
(grinning)
What are you worried about? Afraid someone's gonna catch us?
The key turns in the lock. JIM pushes the door open—we see a blackened, empty lobby. JIM snaps on a flashlight and leads the group into the bank.
INT. BANK
The MPs enter the lobby, the flashlight beam dodging and bobbing ahead of them.
EXT. BANK
Two MPs stand guard at the bank entrance. The trucks still have their engines running.
INT. BANK
Jim unlocks a steel door by the teller cages. Led by Jim, the MPs steal down a dark hallway.
EXT. BANK
Neighbors, noticing the commotion, start snapping on their house lights. A few Japanese begin emerging from their homes. Once outside, they crane their necks curiously and begin gravitating toward the bank.
MP #1
(to another)
Uh-oh. Company.
MP #2
Fuck 'em. We won the war.
MP #1
(under his breath, as if to those inside)
Guys, get on the stick.
INT. HALLWAY
JIM and the others are standing in front of a great bank vault. Fitting a stethoscope to his ears, one of the MPs drops to one knee, presses the other end of the stethoscope to the tumblers, and begins twirling the combination.
EXT. BANK
In front of the bank, an excited crowd is collecting. Their hubbub is growing in volume: What is going on? The MPs glance nervously at each other.
INT. HALLWAY
The combination clicks and the safe is open. The safecracker MP pulls open the safe door with gloved fingers, and JIM claps his hands together happily.
JIM
It's Christmas time, boys and girls.
Let's go shopping.
While Jim enters the vault with a flashlight, one of the MPs, standing at the vault entrance, hands each man a big heavy U.S. Army khaki duffel bag as he follows Jim into the vault.
INT. VAULT
Jim plays his flashlight beam over a series of file cabinets that make up each wall of the interior of the vault. CLOSE ON his face as it shines with light and shadow.
JIM
I never thought I'd make it to this room.
I used to hear stories about it, far back as
MP #3
(wonderingly)
The treasure vault of fucking
MP #4
Aw, I still think it's horseshit. Ain't no diamonds in those drawers. Old Jap checks, maybe, but not—
JIM
Let's find out.
To each of the six men he throws a small ring of keys.
JIM
Make it snappy. The guys can't hold off those Nips out there forever.
EXT. BANK
The size of the crowd is swelling; word of the impromptu bank opening is spreading.
EXT. ADJACENT STREET
Citizens are knocking on neighbors' doors. Under their light overcoats, everyone is still wearing their yukatas, the loose-fitting cotton robes that the Japanese were living in at that time. A light drizzle is beginning to fall, and people are opening umbrellas.
MEDIUM ON
Several angry Japanese men who are hustling down a front door stoop a middle-aged Japanese man who is still scrambling into his black police uniform: the local chief of police. His glasses are slightly askew and his thinning hair is uncombed.
EXT. BANK
Holding carbines at port across their chests before the bank entrance, one MP looks to the other.
MP #1
Oh, shit.
MP #2
(jerks his chin to the trucks)
Get Gordon.
INT. Bank Vault
As they try the keys, the MPs start opening the cabinet drawers. Inside are small bulging brown canvas sacks tied at the top, covered with Japanese writing. Jim snatches one out and feels it.
JIM
Jackpot.
While another MP holds his flashlight, Jim slits open the bag with his stiletto and spills its contents out on a table in the center of the room.
CLOSE ON
Sparkling DIAMONDS, flawless and polished. A fortune in gems.
JIM
The plunder of
MP #3
The mother lode.
MP #4
How many millions you think?
Jim laughs.
JIM
Millions?
EXT. BANK
A confrontation is developing. The CHIEF OF POLICE, flanked by a group of angry Japanese men—some just demobilized and still in Army uniforms—is facing off with a silver-haired American intelligence officer, MAJOR FRANK GORDON, who has just been summoned from the trucks.
CHIEF OF POLICE
(in heavily-accented English)
What is going on here?
GORDON
It's an audit. We're checking the books to see what's still left in the Treasury.
(glancing at the Imperial Army soldiers still in uniform)
We want to make sure these brave men get their back pay.
CHIEF OF POLICE
(in disbelief)
In the middle of the night?
INT. VAULT
The MPs are stuffing the brown canvas bags of Japanese diamonds into their GI duffel bags.
EXT. BANK
The rain is picking up. More umbrellas are opening up.
GORDON
It's GHQ's new policy. We're trying not to interfere with your normal course of life here. If we obtain the records now, we're not bothering anybody.
INT. VAULT
JIM
(waving his arm)
Haul ass. Use the side exit.
The men start lugging their heavily-laden duffel bags out of the vault and down the hallway.
EXT. BANK
CHIEF OF POLICE
I don't believe you.
Gordon's eyes harden.
GORDON
I don't care what you think. It's not your fuckin' country any more. You got it?
INT. BANK
Flashlights in hand, the MEN march back out the way they came, lugging their burdens of gemstones. Around them the great bank is darkened, empty, watchful.
EXT. BANK
The rain is starting to drench the crowd. The Chief of Police is losing his temper.
CHIEF OF POLICE
I will tell General MacArthur about this!
GORDON
You think he doesn't know?
INT. BANK
In the hard-edged shadows the looters hurry down a passageway until they come to a door that opens out onto the street; an MP stands guard there with a rifle, and outside, the canvas-covered personnel carriers are waiting.
EXT. BANK
GORDON
(waving his arm)
Go back home, folks! There's nothing here for you to see.
EXT. SIDE EXIT DOORWAY
The men are loading their bulky duffel bags onto the trucks, handing them up to soldiers standing on the backs of the personnel carriers.
INT. BANK
The MPs are busy carrying their bundles of loot out of the vault and down the passageway to the open back door.
EXT. BANK
When the armed MPs start moving out into the crowd, nudging people with their rifle butts, the mob begins to break up, and soaked in the rain, the Tokyoites go home.
Int. Bank Vault
The cabinet drawers are gaping open, empty. The MPs are busy stuffing the remaining duffel bags.
JIM
Okay, step it up.
MP
(knotting the string on a duffel bag)
I knew I didn't live through fuckin'
EXT. BANK
Packed to the full, the first of the trucks drives off into the night. The autumn rain starts pelting the street. The vanquished Japanese trudge back to their homes, shaking their heads and whispering to each other. The MPs continue loading the canvas-covered trucks.
FADE OUT
INSERT - FADE IN
Onscreen we read:
ALMOST FOUR YEARS LATER
JULY 5, 1949
Japan has begun the long climb back from its postwar chaos and misery, but it is still crippled by terrible unemployment, inflation, and violent labor strife. A growing Japanese Communist Party is gaining strength among the nation's labor unions.
The man in the middle is Sadanori Shimoyama, president of
Violence is anticipated...
INT. UNDERGROUND SUBWAY STATION - MITSUKOSHI DEPARTMENT STORE - NIHOMBASHI SECTION OF
We are now in the bowels of what is a quintessential symbol of the new reborn postwar
On this platform is standing one of the most important men in
Down the platform are standing JIM KRAMER and his sidekick GARY, a tall, handsome, cheerful young soldier, wearing a peaked cap. They are dressed in officer's uniforms now, and Kramer is a captain. He shows
JIM
That's him.
He starts over to Shimoyama and bows. Shimoyama looks mildly surprised.
JIM
Shimoyama-san, I am from Colonel
Valmont's office of the Civil Transportation Section—GHQ? You have an eleven o'clock meeting with him. May we show you to your car?
INT.
The three men are riding in a navy-blue
EXT. CAR - MOVING SHOT
Traffic thins out and buildings become more widely spaced than before. The Buick speeds through suburban environs.
INT. CAR
In the back seat SHIMOYAMA becomes agitated.
SHIMOYAMA
Where are we going?
JIM
Relax, Shimoyama-san.
SHIMOYAMA
This is not the way! Where is the Dai Ichi building?
JIM
We're taking the scenic route.
EXT. CAR - MOVING SHOT
They are entering the countryside. Farmland begins sweeping by. Other people are absent.
SHIMOYAMA
I don't believe you. Colonel Valmont said—
JIM
There's been a change in plan.
Slamming Shimoyama up against the back of the seat, Jim smashes him in the solar plexus with an elbow and punches him in the forehead. Shimoyama groans and sags, unconscious.
Now that wasn't hard, was it?
CLOSE ON JIM's furious face as he stares down at the unconscious Shimoyama.
JIM
You've got a train to catch, you Red son-of-a-bitch.
EXT. RAILROAD TRACKS - TABATA MARSHALLING YARD - NORTH OF
The military car is now parked by a set of railroad tracks in the Japanese countryside. Jim and Gary are lugging Shimoyama's limp form out of the back seat.
"Pardon me boys—is that the
They carry Shimoyama to the railroad tracks and lay his body down on them.
An approaching TRAIN WHISTLE shrieks.
INSERT - HISTORICAL FOOTAGE
We see the most notorious true-life film sequence in the history of Occupied Japan—the stark footage of Shimoyama's SEVERED ARM lying dead center in the middle of a section of railroad ties after having been run over. Disembodied, it has a ghostly presence, and is soon to become the premier symbol of
FREEZE ON
This newsreel image, which transforms itself into
A GRAINY BLACK-AND-WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
on the front page of an English-language newspaper, The
We PULL BACK from the photograph until we find ourselves in the
INT. JAPANESE RESTAURANT -
ROBERT CASEY is eating breakfast with his boss, BRADFORD LEWIS, the City Editor of The Tokyo Chronicle, Tokyo's—and Japan's—largest English-language daily; they are studying the photograph of Shimoyama's severed arm, which dominates the front page of that day's edition.
Above it headlines shriek: "JAPAN NATIONAL RAILWAYS PRESIDENT SHIMOYAMA DEAD—SUICIDE OR MURDER?"
CASEY is the former
BRADFORD LEWIS is in his fifties, getting a little stout, with thin graying hair; he wears spectacles, a shortsleeved shirt, and a loosened tie. An ex-Marine, he has a temper; we can see the birdie on the ball tattooed on his forearm.
The very traditional Japanese restaurant, made entirely of wood, is several hundred years old. Koto and shakuhatchi music plays in the background. We see that Casey is eating a traditional American breakfast of bacon and eggs with a knife and fork, where Lewis is enjoying a Japanese breakfast of fish, miso soup, and steamed vegetables with chopsticks. It's LEWIS who is holding the paper in his hands.
LEWIS
Fucking Commies.
CASEY
You think they did it?
Lewis nods.
LEWIS
Before he kicked the Reds out of the National Railroad Worker's
Casey lights a cigarette, takes a deep drag.
CASEY
I heard he didn't want to go along with the firings. Used to be a rank-and-filer himself.
Lewis reaches for the soy sauce.
LEWIS
Where'd you pick up that bullshit?
CASEY
(smiling)
From your employee Toshio. The stringer from the Metro desk you had meet my plane yesterday?
LEWIS
Goddamn Toshio, he writes on the side for the goddamn Akahata, the national Commie rag. I oughta fire him.
Casey nods to the picture of Shimoyama on the front page, which is now lying on the table.
CASEY
Why not suicide? He was under extreme pressure.
LEWIS
The forensic experts from
A young JAPANESE WAITRESS in a kimono comes by to pour green tea and clear dishes away.
LEWIS
—they say he was dead before the train hit him.
CASEY
He get along with GHQ?
LEWIS
Just fine. He was going to meet Colonel Valmont when he disappeared.
CASEY
Valmont?
LEWIS
Head of MacArthur's Rail Transportation Division. This country runs on trains.
Picking up the paper, Casey studies the grisly picture on the front page.
CASEY
If somebody did assassinate him, they sure had a sense of humor. Dumping him in front of a train.
Lewis snatches the paper out of his hands.
LEWIS
You can forget any crazy murder plot theories. You aren't being assigned to this story.
CASEY
LEWIS
(losing his temper)
At least he didn't get shipped out of
CASEY
Like hell it was.
LEWIS
I don't want to hear it.
Lewis leans forward and stares at him balefully.
LEWIS
You're not in D.C. stringing for Drew Pearson anymore. I was the only sucker in the API stupid enough to take you on, and mister, you're not gonna mess me up with GHQ.
Casey smiles.
CASEY
Okay, boss. What do you see for me?
LEWIS
Get your feet wet. Emperor Hirohito is hosting a special party for members of the Peers and Peeress' School. His son, Prince Akihito, and a bunch of his teenage friends are gonna be there.
He grins.
LEWIS
I'm sending you to interview the nice Quaker lady from Philly who's teaching the future emperor of
At first Casey blinks; he can't believe he's being reduced to this. A human interest story? Then his craggy face breaks into a grin.
CASEY
All right, I'll take it. But on one condition.
EXT. PALACE GROUNDS - THE
The surrounding grounds of THE IMPERIAL PALACE are spectacular. Encircled by a wide moat, the compound is a gorgeous walled city, a manicured green island of luxury in the heart of
CASEY and TOSHIO are standing off to the side at a small informal gathering being held on the rear verandah of the
TOSHIO NAKAMURA is a young Japanese man of medium height, in his late twenties-early thirties, well-knit, with an intense stare and a cheerful smile. For this occasion he's dressed in his best suit, a cheap black affair.
Drinks in their hands, Casey and Toshio are watching the business-suited Emperor HIROHITO converse earnestly with his fifteen-year-old son, PRINCE AKIHITO, a surprisingly impressive adolescent with chiseled good looks got up in a double-breasted suit.
TOSHIO
To think that after the war, this man can live like this, while up in
CASEY
Twenty-eight dollars?
A solemn Japanese Butler appears at Casey's side.
Mrs. White will see you now, sir.
INT. SITTING ROOM
Casey is shown into an understated sitting room decorated in pale green with cream overtones. It's outfitted with a Western-style silk sofa, a mahogany coffee table, and upholstered armchairs.
Pale sunlight is streaming in, illuminating HELEN ELIZABETH WHITE, Prince Akihito's personal English tutor, who is seated on the sofa. She rises as Casey enters, a beautiful elegant woman in her early thirties, dressed in a tailored suit, with blonde hair and an air of breeding; her Bryn Mawr childhood and Radcliffe education are apparent. Echoes of Grace Kelly.
HELEN
Mr. Casey, what a pleasure to meet you.
They shake hands. We can see he's quite taken aback by her polished beauty; he was expecting a dowdy schoolmarm, not a Social Register knockout.
CASEY
Likewise, Mrs. White.
HELEN
Tea?
CASEY
As long as it's not that green stuff.
Helen smiles, and the butler departs. Helen sits down on the sofa, and Casey pulls up a chair so he's facing her, whipping out his ever-present notebook.
CASEY
(glancing up)
Helen Elizabeth White is your full name, right?
HELEN
That's correct.
CASEY
No Mister White?
HELEN
I lost him in 1944 in the Phillipines. The
Casey shuts his notebook.
CASEY
I should've kept my mouth shut.
HELEN
How could you know?
The butler enters, bearing a lacquered tray with a large silver teapot and china cups. He pours British tea and hands cups to both Casey and Helen before he exits. Casey tactfully changes the subject.
CASEY
You came here right after the Surrender?
HELEN
The Imperial Family asked specifically for me. I'm a Quaker, Mr. Casey, and we have certain views about war, and, well, I couldn't very well refuse.
CASEY
(scribbling)
Very idealistic.
HELEN
Also, I should admit, I had some strong feelings about my husband's death in the Phillipines. I wanted to do everything in my power to prevent senseless deaths like his from ever happening again.
CASEY
Do you live here in the palace?
HELEN
No, I have a small place in Meguro. I live among the common people here, Mr. Casey. Not in an ivory tower, if that's what you're driving at.
CASEY
I apologize, I didn't mean to come off like—
HELEN
It's perfectly all right. It's a perfectly reasonable question.
CASEY
You're closely involved with some orphanages here in
HELEN
Yes, a group of homes sponsored jointly by the Japanese government and the Occupation authorities. They're for war orphans, and they do a world of good. I also do some fund-raising for them back in the States.
She stands up from the sofa; the interview is at an end.
HELEN
Perhaps you could visit our orphanage outside
Casey rises as well.
CASEY
Thanks, I'd like that.
He picks up his camera.
CASEY
Mind if I snap your picture? It'd go well with the story.
HELEN
If you think so.
Fitting his flashbulb attachment, Casey motions to her to stand by the windows; she turns to catch the light as Casey shoots her.
CASEY'S P.O.V. - THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER
We see HELEN in all of her beauty, her sculpted features highlighted by the radiant sunlight, her smile a little rueful. As she gazes at Casey, we see her frozen STILL PORTRAIT drain of color until it appears as it will in newspapers all over
EXT. DRIVEWAY -
Driving his beat-up Datsun with Casey seated beside him, Toshio stops short at the guard box and pulls up at the exit gate.
Toshio joins the traffic flow and is soon trapped in the congestion.
INT. DATSUN
TOSHIO
Where to?
CASEY
How close is the
TOSHIO
It's right across the street.
CASEY
(grins)
Let's drop in on Colonel Valmont.
EXT.
The
INT. LOBBY -
We follow Casey and Toshio as they cross the cavernous lobby of the
INT. COLONEL VALMONT'S OFFICE
COLONEL PHILLIP VALMONT is standing behind his desk when Casey is shown in. Valmont is a middle-aged man with a mustache who projects an easy-going attitude to conceal his true hard-as-nails self. One can sense that before the war he was a successful corporation executive. On the wall behind him hang framed portraits of President Harry S Truman and General Douglas MacArthur.
Valmont and Casey shake hands across Valmont's desk.
VALMONT
Bearding me in my den, Mr. Casey?
CASEY
I just happened to be in the neighborhood and—
VALMONT
You should have called ahead, I would've granted you an interview.
Casey assumes the seat before his desk; the door shuts and they are left alone.
CASEY
You know who I am?
VALMONT
No false modesty, please, Mr. Casey. Your departure from
CASEY
I didn't think anyone read the papers anymore.
Valmont lights a pipe.
VALMONT
According to you, this Rogge report from the Attorney General's office proved that the richest and most powerful men in
CASEY
—right up until the cyanide party in the Fuehrerbunker.
VALMONT
The wire services wouldn't touch it.
CASEY
It was so hot the Attorney General hushed up the report. I lost my job for filing the story.
VALMONT
What a shame.
CASEY
How come you know so much about it?
Valmont makes a little smile.
VALMONT
Oh, I'm quite astute politically. I keep my ear to the ground.
CASEY
Hear any trains lately?
VALMONT
Excuse me?
CASEY
Shame what happened to Shimoyama last night.
Valmont looks distressed and downcast.
VALMONT
He was a friend of mine.
CASEY
Is it true you visited him at his house the night before he died?
Valmont reacts angrily.
VALMONT
Where'd you hear that?
CASEY
(smiling)
A little Japanese nightingale told me.
VALMONT
(indignant)
That didn't appear in the New York Times. That lie only showed up in the Akahata—the Red Flag, the daily newspaper of the Japanese Communist Party. I'd check my sources a little more closely if I were you.
CASEY
The houseboy said you showed up in a staff car at midnight carrying a pistol.
VALMONT
We'd been working closely to resolve this terrible situation, and now it's an utter mess.
CASEY
He told the cops you and Shimoyama had an argument about the mass firings. He was having second thoughts and you were waving the gun around.
Valmont gets up from his desk.
VALMONT
I never set foot in Shimoyama's house.
He stares at Casey.
VALMONT
I'm frankly surprised at you. But perhaps I shouldn't be. I would've thought your recent experience in Washington taught you to think twice before listening to lurid rumors; but obviously you prefer your sensational imagination to journalistic truth.
Casey stands up.
CASEY
I'll tell you what my recent experience in Washington taught me. It's that fascists come in all shapes and nationalities.
And some of them are even wearing our uniform.
Valmont smiles.
VALMONT
How are you able to identify these men, Mr. Casey? It must be very difficult.
CASEY
Follow the trail of dead bodies. And see where it links up with money and power.
That's how it happened here in the Thirties, right?
INT. OUTER OFFICE
Toshio is waiting for Casey. So are two others: the silver-haired American intelligence officer, MAJOR FRANK GORDON, and a tall, handsome, cheerful young soldier, wearing a peaked cap, lounging against the wall. It's GARY, Jim Kramer's sidekick and fan of the Andrews Sisters.
CASEY
Toshio.
Casey makes a "let's scram" movement with his head. They exit.
Gordon and Gary let themselves into Valmont's office.
INT. VALMONT'S OFFICE
Valmont is still visibly disturbed, but Gordon is smiling cheerfully.
GORDON
How'd it go, Phil?
VALMONT
Keep an eye on that guy. I don't trust him. He's too nosy.
(glances up sharply)
But tell Kramer not to go crazy or anything. We want to keep things quiet around here.
GARY
Yes, sir.
He salutes smartly, the perfect soldier.
INT. LOBBY - DAI ICHI BUILDING
Casey and Toshio walk out the front door.
ANOTHER ANGLE
A SLIM YOUNG GI with an intense stare who has been lounging against the wall, reading a paper, straightens up and casually saunters out the door behind them.
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