Nakajima
Tokyo ViceNakajima, known in the newsroom as the Cobra, is Jake Adelstein’s exacting colleague and a key intermediary in the early reporting on Gen Sekine. He is introduced as a man of order, precision, and cutting criticism, sharply contrasted with Adelstein’s restless, disorganized habits. Their antagonism does not disappear, but Nakajima’s eventual recognition of Adelstein’s instincts marks a shift from mutual irritation toward professional respect. His role also places him at a consequential junction: police information reaches the newsroom through confidential sources, while editors must decide whether and when it can be published.
Identity and Working Style
When Yamamoto moved up to run the office, Nakajima became its number two. He and Adelstein were not getting along, and colleagues cast them as the Cobra and the Mongoose. Adelstein’s Mongoose nickname reflected his greater amount of hair and his habit of darting around; Nakajima had less hair and moved with precision. The contrast was behavioral as well as comic: Nakajima was orderly and organized, while Adelstein acknowledged that he was neither.
Nakajima’s verbal sharpness gave the nickname a more pointed edge. He had what the Japanese call a poison tongue: he was critical, sarcastic, and adept at putting people down. Adelstein understood why his own haphazard manner irritated Nakajima, even as the comparison exposed how differently the two men approached their work. The book presents their friction through observable habits and office banter, not through a full account of Nakajima’s private life or motivations.
The Sekine Investigation
Nakajima’s central reporting role begins on a January night when he and Yamamoto were in the office eating leftover pizza. He arrived subdued but visibly excited, then warned Adelstein to keep quiet because the information was highly confidential. The news came through Nakajima’s police source: a dog breeder near Kumagaya named Gen Sekine was under suspicion as a possible serial killer. Sekine’s status was uncertain even in the initial account; he might be a yakuza, an ex-yakuza, or an affiliate. Several people associated with him had disappeared over the preceding decade, while an earlier investigation into the first three disappearances had stalled and faded from public attention.
The case had recently been revived after the disappearance of Akio Kawasaki. When Kawasaki’s wife mentioned that he had argued with a dog breeder, police questioned her further and warned her to prepare for the worst if her husband had been involved with Sekine. Two months later Kawasaki was still missing, and the Saitama Prefectural Police homicide division had formed a special task force. By then, ten detectives were working on the case. Nakajima’s source told him that the Yomiuri Shinbun could wait for an exclusive: even senior police officials did not yet know the details, and there seemed little risk that other papers would get ahead of them.
That promise gave the developing report both value and risk. The investigation was pursuing fraud, a less serious charge that made it easier to obtain a warrant than a homicide allegation; police could then question a suspect about other matters, including murder. Adelstein was assigned to search old newspaper files for information about Sekine and his pet shop, African Kennel. Nakajima’s disclosure thus set in motion a collaboration in which confidential police intelligence and painstaking archival work supplied different parts of the story.
Editorial Conflict and Professional Recognition
The newsroom’s confidence in the exclusive was shaken when the evening edition of Asuka published an account of the case. Yamamoto argued that the rival article was poorly researched and should be ignored while their own reporting continued. When the editor asked for Nakajima’s view, he agreed with Yamamoto. The evidence establishes his position in that meeting, but does not give a separate explanation for why he took it.
The editor feared that other newspapers might follow the story the next day and leave their paper looking as though it had missed the news. The dispute therefore turned on more than the accuracy of Asuka’s account: the newsroom had to weigh the promise of an exclusive against the possibility of losing the story altogether. After the meeting, Nakajima stopped Adelstein in the hallway. Instead of reprimanding him, as Adelstein expected, Nakajima thanked him for speaking up and said that he understood the police beat better than Nakajima had thought. He still called Adelstein sloppy, horrible at writing, and undisciplined, but added that he had good instincts and might not be a lost cause.
The exchange does not make the two men friends or erase their differences. Its significance is more specific: Nakajima revises his judgment of Adelstein’s reporting ability after seeing him make an argument in an editorial crisis. His praise retains the sting of his usual criticism, but it also recognizes a skill that could matter when police access, publication timing, and newsroom competition pull in different directions.
Later Newsroom Context
The book’s later reporting episodes show how difficult it could be to turn information into published scrutiny, though they do not establish that Nakajima personally made the later publication decisions. In the Lucie Blackman investigation, Adelstein passed Yamamoto information that established Lucie and Obara had met and that witnesses could support the account; the resulting scoop angered the TMPD, which had wanted to surprise Obara, and other newspapers followed roughly a week later. Much later, when Adelstein tried to place an article about the FBI deal involving Tadamasa Goto, prospective publishers declined for reasons including the story’s age, concern about the National Police Agency, verification difficulties, legal exposure, security costs, and commercial ties. The Yomiuri Shinbun ignored the article when he sent it a copy.
These episodes provide institutional context rather than additional actions by Nakajima. His documented importance lies in the earlier newsroom: he can obtain sensitive police information, argues for a course of action when a rival publication disrupts the expected schedule, and is willing to acknowledge a colleague’s judgment even while criticizing his execution. The contrast between that initial promise of an exclusive and the later refusals to publish difficult stories also underscores that access to information does not by itself guarantee that it will reach readers.