the classical jargon term wakatono (young lord, i.e. “drat, someone is in after all”) and make a dash for the gate.
When the robbers are in the mansion the job officially begins. The period stretching from the criminals' arrival to their loot-laden departure is called yama (mountain). This delicate metaphor suggests that the thieves, like pilgrims climbing mountains to reach blessed shrines, have to first drudge their way up the steep slope of breaking and entering before they can snatch the spoils from the peak. A younger synonym for the high-charged stealing period, used by trendy burglar novices in Tokyo and Osaka, is ingu. This strange term that leaves older criminals baffled, is none other than the English gerundive suffix “ing.”
“We lifted it from English words like dingu (doing), suchiiruingu (stealing), robbingu (robbing),” the youngsters explain.
• Yama no saich. ni mono oto o taterun ja n zo! Don't make a sound while we're on the job!
• Oi yab, isoge yo! Yama ni sanjippun ij kakeru mon ja n ze! Shit, man, move it! We shouldn't be on the job more than thirty minutes!
• Shh! Ingu no saich. ni shaberun ja n! Shh! Don't talk on the job!
• Ingu no saich. ni nanka warui yokan ga shiyagaru. I've been having a bad feeling about this job since we started it.
As the burglars move to the “mountain” portion of their crime, they will perform atari, the very last precautionary check before their feet hit the mansion's polished parquet. If all is well, they will plunge like swords into the inner sanctum of the home, the yasa (from saya, “sheath”). With their flashlights they sneak from room to room searching for loot. This is opaquely described as miagari sashite miru (our bodies are moving up in search of). On this initial round nothing is touched. The aim is to “bite the platform” (dai o kamu), to flavor the spoils, mentally balancing their portability against their potential market value. “If we had to choose, should we take the TV-video set, the CD player with remote, or that gigantic Kamakura vase?” the bandits ask themselves. Another burning question is whether the articles being considered are abuiabu (the real thing). When thieves come across prospective bounty that is of contestable value, the connoisseur of the group does a quick atari o tsukeru (attaching a hit). He or she will carefully scratch, bite, lick, or prod the item to test its authenticity. A thief who bumps into an expensive object and sends it crashing to the floor, is accused of buriya, the jargon word for smashing stealable commodities on the job.
• Chikush! Koko ni wa nani hitotsu abuiabu ga ari'ya shin! Shit! Absolutely nothing here's genuine!
• Oi, kore ga honmono ka chitto atari tsukete miru beki da ze. Hey, check this piece to see if it's real.
• Aitsu o tsurete ikun' dattara, burya ni ki o tsuketa h ga ii ze! If you're gonna take him along, make sure he doesn't trash the place!
Some modern looters are only interested in hard yen. Unperturbed, they will march right past rich bibelots and strings of Picassos and make a beeline for the safe, for what they call mamono (the real thing). These looters are the shimabarashi (island breakers), otomodachi (friends), namashi (cash masters), sannokkan (money exchangers), and more recently maniishi (money masters). In money-master jargon the safe is musume, the daughter. A safe, like a cherished daughter, they explain, is a household's most prized and jealously-guarded possession. If the safe turns out not to have been worth cracking, the dispirited 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,
