The Hunter

by Asa Nonami

  What a bastard. And Tomoko is an idiot.

  The train was packed, which only added to Takako's frustration, and she arrived at Tachikawa Central Station still feeling upset. Going straight to the rest room, she stared into the mirror as she combed her hair. Her eyes looked a little sunken. Well, another day alongside the emperor penguin begins. She better not let on about the weariness she felt.

  As the morning meeting got underway, Wakita, looking himself rather healthier than two days before, spoke with a clear, ringing voice: "I trust you all had a good rest yesterday. Today we start afresh, and while we certainly have our work cut out for us, let's do our best to move this case along and get a suspect in custody as soon as possible. Now, as to the Tennozu case, there is a new discovery to report."

  He's been to the barber.

  "It is now believed that the tooth marks on the body of Kazuki Horikawa, the victim in the Tennozu case, were made by a large dog—or, possibly, by a wolf."

  A wolf? The room swirled with mumblings. Takako stared at Wakita in disbelief. He was the picture of earnestness, looking stern as he nodded in confirmation of his announcement.

  Actually his hair is cut too short; he looks like an anachronism, a soldier in the war.

  "According to the report from the crime lab, the hairs found on the body of the victim are definitely not from a wild animal. They are from a male animal that's been well cared for, and yet they don't match any breed of dog. We are in the process of collecting samples for comparison, but at this point it seems quite possible that we are looking at a wolf. Two kinds of hairs were found, bristles and soft hair. The condition of the sebaceous matter, and the presence of skin tissue at the roots of the hair follicles, rules out any question of their coming from a fur coat. They are from the body of a live animal."

  A well-groomed wolf? Somebody's pet? No one smiled. This was not a joke. It was inconceivable that the chief could be jesting.

  "Examination of the area where the victim was found turned up relatively fresh prints in nearby shrubbery. They match the claw marks on the victim's back. The prints are thought to be from the animal's hind legs. They measure 10.6 centimeters by 7.5 centimeters, which would be enormous for a dog; moreover, whereas paw prints of a dog are normally fairly rounded, these tend toward oval. The savagery of the injury to the victim's head and neck tells us this must be an animal with jaws bigger and more powerful than a German shepherd or a Doberman pinscher. But the style of the attack suggests that the animal, whether dog or wolf, is not wild; it is a highly trained animal. These are only parts of the puzzle, but it seems safe to say at this point that we're up against something quite formidable."

  After the chemical symbols and equations of the other day, which Takako had little understood, the image of the wolf in Takako's mind was very vivid.

  "Now, the victim Kazuki Horikawa was employed as an ordinary salary-man, but in his university days he hung around Roppongi at night, lived in the fast lane. It seems to us more than a coincidence that many of the places he frequented at that time overlap with the employment of the homicide victim, Teruo Hara; we are investigating the possibility of a connection between Hara and Horikawa.

  "There are many questions that remain, but because of the possibility that the two deaths may be linked in some way, headquarters has decided: We will be heading up the investigation of the Horikawa case as well as the Hara case. Both cases will be pursued in tandem."

  * * *

  Takako, with her notebook open, felt a vague dissatisfaction. Chase a wolf? She'd never done anything like that before. Of course, the ultimate purpose of the chase would be to round up whoever was controlling the wolf—but what did that have to do with benzoyl peroxide and a belt rigged to throw flames?

  It was hard to call the latest development good news, yet the mood of the investigation, in the doldrums recently, had definitely perked up. They were bound to make some headway now.

  Once again the teams and assignments were shifted around. In addition to the ongoing background check of Teruo Hara, the search for witnesses, and the investigation into the distribution of benzoyl peroxide, new teams were formed to look into possible connections between Hara and Horikawa, to search for new motives, and to track down the wolf. Takako assumed that again she'd be making the rounds of pharmaceutical companies, but to her surprise they were assigned to the wolf.

  As the meeting was drawing to a close, Watanuki almost offhandedly announced: "Officer Otomichi, a word with you, please."

  "Yes, sir," Takako replied automatically, lowering her head instinctively as she sensed the eyes of everyone, including Takizawa, on her.

  When the meeting adjourned Takako first went quickly over to Takizawa, bowed, and said, "I'll be a minute."

  His mouth in an ironic twist, he raised his eyebrows with a look of utter boredom, jutted out his chin, and said with exaggerated politeness, "Be my guest. Take all the time you want." Apparently, a day's R&R had only fueled the emperor penguin's ill nature.

  Takako was led into a side room where various higher-ups were assembled, including Chief Wakita and the head of the Tachikawa Third Mobile Investigative Unit she belonged to.

  "Otomichi, you are a lizard, is that right?"

  Takako darted a glance at her supervisor and saw the approval in his eyes before replying, "Yes, I am."

  "Lizards" were designated members of the mobile investigative unit who had served as motorcycle policemen or whose motorcycle skills were at the highest level; as need arose, they might be ordered to follow a suspect's trail alone on their motorcycle, departing from the usual pattern of working with a partner. While not exactly a code name, the term lizard was not in open use either. People Takako worked with were probably familiar with it, but here at investigation headquarters, few if any of those around her knew what it meant. Takako had started out as a motorcycle cop, and received the lizard designation after transferring to the mobile investigative unit of the Criminal Affairs Division.

  "You're prepared to go into action at any time?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "That's all we needed to know. You may go."

  Takako bowed deeply and left the room, wondering what that was all about.

  "They say wolves run like the wind," a voice said from behind her. Takako turned find her supervisor following her down the corridor, grinning.

  Ahh.

  At the door of the meeting room, her supervisor stopped and motioned inside with his chin. "Looks like you've got your hands full," he said. Takako saw that he was referring to Takizawa sitting glumly in a chair, legs straight out in front of him. The room was empty except for the desk staff, and Takizawa was smoking a cigarette, stroking his jaw as if searching for patches of stubble he missed while shaving. Takako shrugged.

  "One of these days you'll have a chance to show him your real stuff. Just hang in there."

  "Thanks to him, I'm a lot more thick-skinned now. He—"

  Her supervisor held up his hand, cutting her off; he understood, she didn't have to explain. Takako felt lucky to have colleagues like him for the most part.

  "He's got a good reputation. You're just not used to each other. Think of him as the classic, old-fashioned type of cop."

  "That's not the problem; the problem is he hates women."

  "Then you two are a good match. The man-hater and the woman-hater."

  "But I—"

  "Don't tell me you're crazy about men. You aren't. You're not crazy about the human race in general. Anyway, main thing is, you do your job. Do what you can to get that wolf."

  Takizawa had waited grumpily for his partner. As soon as she got back, he stood up with a cool, standoffish air. "Ready now? Is your important business finished?"

  "Sorry to keep you waiting."

  "Let's go. Time to round up the pooch."

  As they left the room, Takizawa made a deliberate show of letting Takako go first, and even started to hum a little. "Yes, sir," he said, "gotta thank my lucky stars I'm paired with you.
This way I get all the easy jobs."

  Here we go again, thought Takako. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not wanting to get into it with him.

  "So what was the big deal about?"

  "Nothing special," she replied, not looking toward him. She could register his annoyance at this. That was one reason she disliked walking with a man her height. With his face so close by, she had to see his every little change of expression. Having Takizawa's scruffy face constantly in her line of sight was not a pleasant part of the job.

  After a bit, Takizawa spoke up. "So where're we headed?"

  Throughout their so-called partnership, Takizawa had called all the shots, deciding where they would go without giving Takako a say in the matter. What was this, she wondered. A test?

  "Well, why don't we start by going around to the larger pet shops?"

  "Good. What else?"

  "As I recall, under something called the Washington Convention, trafficking in wolves is prohibited."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "At any rate, I think it would be best to start there."

  "You do, huh?"

  Takizawa evidently had no intention of taking her seriously, no matter what she said. What in the world was wrong with him? Had something happened to him on his day off? Well, same here. But, hey, we leave our private lives at home; you don't drag your misery to the office, especially if you're going to work with me.

  "You think the wolf escaped from a zoo?" he asked.

  "Has there been a report of a missing wolf?"

  "You got me there."

  "But a wolf in a zoo wouldn't receive any special training, would it? To have carried out an attack like that—"

  Takizawa stopped in his tracks. Takako walked on a little ways, then stopped and turned back. Takizawa was standing with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

  "You really think there's a wolf out there?" he said.

  "It's possible," she hedged. "That's why we need to check it out."

  "You do it on your own, then. I'm out. It's too wacky for me." Takizawa lit the cigarette, disgusted.

  Takako took a deep breath. "Tell me why."

  "Look, all I want is to go after the human dirt-bag. Leave dogs to the dog-catcher. I can't take a kiddie assignment like that seriously."

  "But the wolf is key to the case! It's actually attacked and killed someone."

  "Yeah, well, for all we know, that case has zilch to do with ours. What I want to do is go back to the scene of the fire and start asking some more questions. I know we missed something the first time around. There's gotta be something we didn't ask, didn't see."

  "Then why didn't you request permission? All you had to do was tell the chief." Takako watched as Takizawa blew a lungful of smoke in her direction. The smoke dissipated in the winter wind.

  "'Cause I got paired with you, honeybun. They thought I didn't have what it takes to grit my teeth and go back for another try."

  Takako tightened her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag. "Are you positive about that?" she said in a tense, quiet voice. Today was shaping into another chilly, overcast day. As long as she was walking, she didn't feel the cold, but standing here in the wind like this, she felt the cold creeping up from her ankles. She'd had enough. I don't want to be paired with you either, buster. "Maybe they just thought someone else should take a look from a fresh perspective."

  Takizawa showed surprise at hearing this, but Takako plowed on without waiting for him to speak. "You find it supremely unpleasant to be paired with me, I know. I think I know why, too. But there's nothing I can do about the situation. I certainly don't think I've been given an easier job because I'm a woman."

  "I'm sure you don't."

  "If you want to continue the search around the crime scene, fine. You know your way around the area, and you were in on this case from the time the fire was first reported, so I know you want to catch whoever's responsible. But I'm going after the wolf. It's the job I was assigned to do. If you want nothing more to do with me, if you have no interest in pursuing the wolf, than I suggest you take it up with the chief. But today, I'm going to go after the wolf."

  "How can you keep—"

  "I apologize for being so blunt!" Having gotten that off her chest, Takako turned and started to walk away, purposely letting the heels of her shoes click loudly. Actually there was more that she could have said. But she felt a little better. She really had no intention of going up against Takizawa. He was the one who was out of line.

  I'll track down the wolf myself. Hara's background and benzoyl peroxide have been dead ends. The wolf's the key, just watch.

  Her insides were still seething with defiance and determination. She didn't want to lay eyes again on Takizawa's grouchy face or her sister's pleading face. Her supervisor said she basically hated people. She didn't think of it like that, but maybe he was right. What was there to like about people anyway? They were all selfish, wrapped up in themselves, didn't care about...

  Today, when Takako exhaled, her breath actually came out frosty. Out here in Tachikawa, the temperature had to be a couple degrees colder than in the middle of the city. The cold air stung her eyes; suddenly she became aware of footsteps running up to her.

  "At this hour, I bet no pet shops are open." It was Takizawa, whose scruffy figure had intruded into her field of vision.

  "Well, department stores open at ten, and they all have pet shops."

  Takako looked back at her partner, who had begun walking alongside her with a face curiously void of expression. His cigarette was almost down to the filter. With the usual ironic twist to his mouth, Takizawa mumbled, "After all, you and me are a team."

  9

  Right, left, right, left. From the outside of Mayo Uehara's pink sneakers you couldn't tell they were wet inside. In fact, her socks and her feet felt like they were soaked in tepid water.

  It reminded her of when she was in kindergarten and wet her pants. Ugh. Her mouth tightened, Mayo walked on, face down. Right, left, right, left. Her feet were moving, but if she just focused on her shoes, there was the illusion that the pavement was moving instead. This was a magic trick her mother taught her for times when she didn't feel like walking.

  Mommy knew lots of magic.

  But Mommy was never coming back again. "Come and see me any time," she had said, but Mayo had never been over. It made Daddy sad, and besides, she thought maybe she wasn't supposed to see Mommy anymore. But at times like this she wished she could. She wished Mommy could teach her some magic way to cheer herself up. She wanted Mommy to stroke her hair and braid it for her. To listen to her troubles and help her find a way out. Daddy said, "If you have a problem, tell your teacher." But Miss Yokota didn't like her. She thought so before, but today she was sure.

  Today the other girls in class hid her sneakers. During lunch hour, they came up and invited her to play with them on the horizontal bar. Usually they never asked her to do anything with them. They would stand off at a distance and say stuff loudly like "I hate mayonnaise!" or "Mayonnaise is like white poo." Just because her name was Mayo. So when they invited her to play with them today, she was thrilled. She quickly ate her lunch and went with them to the cupboard where the outdoor shoes were kept. But her sneakers were gone. Then the girls all laughed and laughed and laughed: You idiot. Your sneakers are so dirty, they probably got thrown in the trash. You probably came to school barefoot.

  Mayo searched for her sneakers, tears running down her face. Even after lunch period was over, she kept looking, by herself. Finally she found one sneaker stuck in the toilet in the farthest lavatory stall. She kept on hunting until she found the other one, this time in a toilet in the boys' lavatory on the second floor. Mayo went back to the classroom holding a sneaker in each hand, dripping toilet water.

  As soon as she walked into the room, Miss Yokota scolded her sharply. "Where have you been? Didn't you hear the bell ring?"

  Trembling, Mayo tried to tell her teacher about the sneakers. Her humiliation. Anger. Sadness. But f
or second-grader Mayo, organizing all of that into a form her teacher could understand was impossible. Finally, with a supreme effort, she managed to say where her sneakers were—and then everyone in the room burst into derisive laughter.

  "Uehara went into the boys' room!?!"

  "Ew! She smells like pee."

  "She stuck her hand right down in the toilet!"

  They all jeered at her, every last one of them. Hoping that Miss Yokota would stop them, Mayo looked up at her expectantly. But on Miss Yokota's mouth there was the trace of a smile. The teacher hated her. Even the teacher thought she was dirty. Miss Yokota wasn't her friend. She was on the side of all the other girls, all the bullies. Mayo felt terrible. So she walked out. She never wanted to go back to school again.