specialists mutter musume ga wakai (their daughter is young). If, on the other hand, yen notes come pouring out, the joyous proclamation is musume ga haramu (their daughter is with child).
The exhilarating moment when a looter hits the jackpot is known as makenshi. This argot word describes the rushing of blood to one's head, the gasp of exhilaration, the joyful stagger. When money is found in an unexpected place, the expressions used are morai (receiving) and ogami (prayer—the surprised thief kneels in thankful prayer).
• Y, maitta, maitta! Kongetsu haitta ie wa zenbu musume ga wakakatta ze! Man, this sucks! All the houses we did this month had safes that were slim pickings!
• Aitsu no me ni kakar'ya musume ga haranderu ka dka nante ippatsu de wakatchimau ze. That guy, man! One glance at a safe and he knows if it's full!
• Nijippun-kan sagashite, yatto makenshi to kita! We searched for twenty minutes, and then hull's eye!
• Kono e no ura nijman mo mitsukeru nante tonda morai da ze! Man, the jackpot behind this picture! Two hundred thousand yen!
After the thieves finish exploring the premises the actual thieving begins. The intense phase in which money, jewelry, portable antiques, and objets d'art are raked into sacks is known as hayakoto (the quick thing). After hayakoto, thieves with nerves of steel dart into the kitchen for a quick snack, a habit classified in jargon as hantebiki (food snatching).
Once the plunder sacks are tied shut, the word to hiss is the Korean aruikara (the loot is assembled). If the goods are exceptionally rich, the looters will add kanchira, Japanese Korean for “the catch was good.” In unpolished circles, the bandits will cap the burglary with what some call ki ga fuseru (plopping down the spirit), others higa barasu (rubbing out the misdeed). One of the group hobbles to the door, yanks his trousers down, and crouching, defecates. This tasteless action, burglars explain, is the only surefire method of duping police dogs. One whiff and the animal is totally disoriented.
• Kondo no ki ga fuseru no ban wa dare da? Who's turn is it to shit by the door?
• Mata higa barashita! Mattaku aitsu wa! Don't tell me he took a shit again! I really wish he wouldn't!
• Higa barashi ni itta, om kitan yatsu da na! You took a shit by the door? You're sick!
The final dash for the door is referred to as ketsubaru (stretching one's ass). Thieves leaving the premises with sacks swung over their shoulders are doing sayakaeri (changing the sheath).
The gang scuttles into the yard, over the wall and out the gate, scattering in all directions. This is mochizura (having and running). To leave the scene of the crime in a congenial group would be suicidal; the only safe thing to do is what Tokyo's Koreans call chacha: each member dashes down a different alley. Groups of burglars who only steal money and jewelry will often do chyapabataro; the loot is passed to one person to reduce the danger of the whole group being rounded up by the police. In some of the rougher clans, however, bandits will react gingerly to the idea of entrusting their hard-earned spoils to a colleague. What if he should be zaruo (sieve), a loot carrier who is not above straining small valuables or yen notes out of the sack? This ignoble genre of betrayal is known among gangsters as baiharu (stretching the purchases) and baigiri (cutting the purchases).
• Oi, shitteta ka? Zaruo ga kawa de shitai de mitsukatta ze! Hey, did you know they found that sieve dead in the river?
• Koitsu wa hen da n! Aitsu wa baigiri shiagatta n. Something's fucked up here! I'm sure he skimmed off some of the loot.
• Aitsu baiharu shiagatte, kondo attara bukkuroshite yaru ze! That guy riffled the loot. When I run into him, I'm gonna fuckin' kill him!
In a larger clan, where loot carriers are tried and trusted, the thieves will make their way one by one back to the shima (island), the gang's territory. There they will re-congregate to receive their share of the booty, their kabu (stocks). The emotion-laden distribution of the pillage is dubbed by some gangs kabuwari (stock splitting), kabuwake (stock dividing) and tezuke (depositing), and byothers yamawake (mountain splitting), yamakan (mountain sectioning), and hajiki (springing open). The thieves are on tenterhooks, and eager argotic questions abound:
• Yoroku? (profits) Was this a successful stint?
• Rachi? (picket fence) What are the results?
• Musuko wakakatta? (was the son young) There was no money in the house?
• Yabakatta? or yabakaita? (from yabai, “dangerous”) Has the job been a flop?
• Amerikan! (American) This is worthless! (American coffee, the bandits explain, is ridiculously weak. Like a stolen piece of junk, it does not do anything for one).
The joyful circumstance in which loot turns out to be of much higher value than anticipated is gaily heralded with atsui (it is thick). Another even cheerier occasion occurs when, during the loot dividing, an unexpectedly large wad of bank notes is found stashed in an antique or in the lining of a picture. This circumstance is dubbed atari (hit).
Burglars who work in twos and threes often prefer to split the loot at the scene of the crime. This way, everyone can do an immediate dankon utsu (bullet-hole banging), rushing off home after a successful job. This expression is always good for a raucous laugh, since dankon utsu, if written with the characters “male-root banging” can also mean “banging the penis.” Oi, hayaku dankon ut ze! (Yo man, let's split!) could with a giggle be misinterpreted as “Yo man, let's bang penises!”
2
THE CRIMINALS who live most dangerously are the odorikomi (those who enter dancing). Unlike their cousins the akisunerai (empty-nest targeters), the odorikomi do not check, recheck, and then check again before kicking doors in. If money is to be had, they will break and enter. Over time, the jargon of Japanese burglars playfully developed the bad boys' dancing image, and soon even the toughest thugs came to be jocularly known as odoriko (danseuses). The terpsichorean theme went even further, and these rash methods of burglary came to be known as bon odori, from the dances of Obon, the summer Festival of the Dead.
• saka no odoriko ga mata tsukamatta ze! That danseuse from Osaka was caught again!
• Konban no bon odori umaku yare yo! Good luck at tonight's dance!
The burglars enjoyed the festive idea of combining august ceremony with barging into houses, and were soon calling each other both obon and urabon (from the older Sanskrit name for the rituals, Ullambana). The Obon festival was originally held in July, which prompted rough looters also to be called shichigatsu (seventh month), and then nanoka and nanuka (seventh day), which finally became the even more esoteric ichiroku (“one-six,” i.e. seven). As more and more areas in Japan 'began celebrating the festival in August, some gangs simply called their tougher burglars hachigatsu (eighth month), while more traditional gangs stuck to the old words.
Dancing thieves live on the edge. Some have actually become specialists in entering orusu (occupied nests); these are the hamahori (beach diggers) and nobori (risers). While the family is eating or watching television in one room, they tiptoe from closet to closet collecting valuables. Some thieves wait until the family is safely in bed; these are the kurumi (walnuts). Their silent method of entry is known as seburikameru (sleeping crawl). Related to them are the machi (those who wait), the irimachi (those who enter and wait), and the tomari (those who stay over). They break into occupied houses and then hide in a closet or under a bed until the family goes out. Then the heist begins.
Hiding in an occupied house is known as anko (bean