The Hunter

by Asa Nonami

  Takako stood a step back, listening to Takizawa and the colleague talk and feeling wretched; she did her best to go through the steps and make a careful inspection of the site.

  "No witnesses," Takizawa's colleague was saying, "even in the middle of the day like this. Area is residential, quiet, little traffic. So far we haven't found anyone who heard anything—a scream, a bark, anything."

  Takako contemplated the horror of the crime. Yet for reasons that she could not understand, she dreaded having to capture the wolf-dog that had done the deed.

  ". . . connection between the Tennozu victim and Hara now established. Seems they used to pal around, back in Hara's Roppongi playboy days. A woman paying Hara's bills back then identified him by his photo. A team is working on that angle now."

  Takako turned around to join in the conversation. If this last bit was true, this was not an unrelated chain of incidents.

  "Do we know the identity of this victim here?" asked Takizawa.

  Before the conversation could go further, Captain Watanuki came hurrying by, looking grim. With him were two higher-ups whom Takako did not recognize, probably from the Kanagawa prefectural police. Watanuki greeted the group in his gravelly voice. "What do you think? See anything useful here?"

  Before anyone could reply, Takako spoke up nervously. "We've picked up some new information today, sir." Her heart, constricted earlier, was pounding furiously. "I wonder if we could request the use of police dogs."

  "Police dogs?"

  Takako felt the eyes of everyone on her. She felt terribly nervous, but went on: "Sir, in our investigation we learned of a breed called the wolf-dog, actually a cross-breed between a wolf and a dog. The more wolf blood in the animal, the more it resembles an actual wolf in appearance and behavior. If a wolf-dog attacked this victim, its scent should still be here. It has a strong territorial instinct, and has probably marked the area at close intervals. A police dog could pick up the scent."

  The captain gave a series of small nods, and turned to walk to his vehicle. Takako's heart was sore. Watching the crime-scene investigators go about their business, eagerly gathering evidence, she breathed deeply.

  "Did that dog import guy say anything about marking?" Takizawa asked quietly.

  Takako gulped. "It was in one of the books I read this morning."

  Ever since their face-off outside headquarters this morning, Takizawa seemed to have undergone a change of attitude. He started to say something but held back, nodding only. He could be sympathetic, but Takako saw that his eyes were unsmiling. She knew better than to let her guard down.

  "That explains how you were able to ask him all those questions. You did your homework."

  "Had to. I didn't know anything about wolf-dogs," she said, her breathing still belabored.

  Watanuki returned to say that, with the help of the Kanagawa prefectural police, a K9 unit would soon arrive. "But all I wish is that the perpetrator and his animal would keep running farther and farther away, and never stop." With this, the captain ordered two teams to remain at the crime scene, and the rest to begin a door-to-door investigation.

  Takako wanted to stay and watch. When the police dogs picked up the scent of the wolf-dog, how would they react? She wanted to see with her own eyes what they would do.

  As the day was drawing to a close, the police dogs arrived. Several intelligent-looking German shepherds on leashes went sniffing around the site, exhaling white breath. Takako watched with keen interest. What do you say, fellas? Any trace of the scent of a bigger, fiercer creature than any of you? Which way did he come from, which way did he go?

  By then members of the media, with their own sharp powers for sniffing out a story, had gathered around. From all sides came the sound of someone speaking into a microphone. The scene was lit up so brightly that the police equipment was all but unnecessary. In the midst of all this commotion, the police dogs were divided into two groups and headed out in different directions.

  Disciplined not to bark, the dogs did nothing but pace ceaselessly around the scene with their noses to the ground, glancing up occasionally at their handlers. Takako had expected no less, yet she felt half-disappointed as she watched. However smart they might be, the dogs had no words at their command; how could they possibly tell anyone, "This is no ordinary creature, this is a wild animal vastly more powerful than any of us"? They did not howl or show any excitement. These were not ordinary dogs either.

  The meeting started at 10:00 p.m.

  "As a result of tracking by a K9 unit, we were able to determine that the scent of the perpetrator remained strong at the scene of the crime. The dogs followed scent trails in two directions from the spot where the victim was found. One trail ended in front of the victim's apartment building, about three hundred meters away, and the other went into a deserted grove of trees."

  Takako was exhausted, and so short on sleep that she felt she was losing the ability to regulate her body temperature. God, what a long day. The meeting had begun with a discussion of the link between the victims Kazuki Horikawa and Teruo Hara. The two men had hung out together in Roppongi, but because it happened over a decade ago, it was difficult to find anyone who could testify to their connection, and yet that arm of the investigation was said to be making gradual progress.

  Next, the team assigned to Teruo Hara reported no new significant results. Depending on the day of the week, Hara slept at the date club without returning to his apartment, and accordingly was often seen in the vicinity of the building that burned down; and yet, there was no evidence linking him with anyone but the various women about whom the police already knew. The team would next interview people Hara had received New Year's cards from, and people listed in his address book.

  The pharmaceutical team found no evidence of anyone attempting to purchase benzoyl peroxide from a university lab or other source in Tokyo and the surrounding prefectures. The investigation would move to companies using benzoyl peroxide, such as refining companies and manufacturers of cosmetics.

  The team investigating the timed incendiary device reported that the structure of the device was actually quite simple; it was a remodeled pedometer. The pedometer in question, which was widely available at nationwide department stores and discount shops, could be switched to function as a digital watch; and it was that switch that was used as a timed trigger. The source of electricity was a micro-cell battery that passed through the circuit, connecting to a Nichrome wire used for ignition. With a chemical that had a high ignition temperature, a micro-cell battery could never trigger a fire, but given the low resoluble temperature of benzoyl peroxide, it was adequate to the task. The metal case used to disguise the device as a belt buckle had not turned up as a product widely available on the market, and the team opined that it might yet provide a lead of some sort.

  Next, Takizawa reported on the wolf-dog. For Takako, it was quite a sight to see the emperor penguin discoursing earnestly with her report in hand, given his reluctance even to take the word "wolf" seriously that morning. He had apparently lost the inclination—or run out of the energy—to be snide and abusive; for the first time since they'd teamed up, he said to her, as he looked over her report, "Well done."

  Takako was equally fatigued, as far as that went.

  It was past midnight when the report on the new victim began. No trace of the one-day mini-vacation remained on anyone's face.

  "Near the crime scene there are groves of trees and wooded hills, places where people don't usually go, but the scent was still present in those thickets—even across a fence 1.5 meters high. We found one place where the surrounding grasses and weeds were packed down, with traces of animal fur on the ground. Tests are now being run to determine if that fur matches hairs found on the body of the victim."

  "Well, that would simplify the investigation, wouldn't it?" a detective suggested. "If there are only a couple hundred wolf-dogs in the country and you've got a list of owners, then you just go down the list until you find the guy with the d
og that matches the hair. That should do it."

  This idea made perfect sense. Yet Takako wondered if there weren't another way, a shortcut or a detour. But more also had to be learned about the day's new victim—Chieko Yoshii, nee Inada, 28, a housewife married less than a year. And about all of the other threads in the case. If not, the list of victims might only get longer, and bloodier.

  Trained to attack humans. But only certain designated targets.

  Takako felt her mental energy ebbing. She had a feeling the answer was in front of her. But she couldn't think clearly. All that was clear was: They had to catch the animal. The animal, which wasn't the one to hate, would lead them to its human owner, who was the real culprit, the real killer.

  I want to see the wolf-dog run. In full flight—across a vast plain.

  Stop. Got to concentrate.

  The husband of Chieko Yoshii seemed to know very little about the past of his newlywed wife. First thing in the morning, a squad would visit her parents' home to learn everything they could.

  Have to keep the wolf-dog from killing again.

  The animal didn't know the meaning of right and wrong. The owner did—the human who taught it to kill. Designing a belt with a timing device that turned it into a lethal flame-thrower would take scrupulous planning, but training a wolf-dog to kill like this could take years. Did the killer buy the animal in order to kill? How did the animal learn to recognize its victims?

  Was this the work of one person with a lot of time on his hands?

  As Takako's mind roamed, she heard Wakita ask: "If there is anything else you've noticed, speak up now." Reflexively, nervously, she raised her hand. She was beat. She wanted to go home and go to bed. Stretch out and fall asleep. Think about nothing. And yet here she was getting up from her chair, rising to her feet, with the eyes of all the male investigators turned on her.

  "Wolf-dogs are extremely intelligent. Some owners train them like police dogs, and enter them in competitions. I realize the need to go through the list of two hundred wolf-dogs one by one, but it seems to me that no dog could carry out these killings without extensive training. Perhaps we should consider a visit to the training facility for police dogs?"

  There, she'd said it. Seeing the chief nod with satisfaction, she sat down. In the end, it was decided to rework the direction of the investigation at tomorrow morning's meeting. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. when the meeting ended. Takako felt herself breaking into a cold sweat, or a greasy sweat, she wasn't sure which. She walked out of the investigation headquarters, striving to keep her composure.

  So tired she was unsteady on her feet, she unlocked the door of her apartment, whereupon she was greeted by a cheery voice crowing, "Welcome home!" Tomoko, whom she had completely forgotten about, having assumed her sister would go back to their parents' house, was standing there with a smile on her face. Feeling all her strength ebb away, Takako looked at her sister and, lacking a word to say, stepped into the apartment.

  "You must be tired. Are you hungry? I filled the tub for you, too. Hurry up and change, now."

  Having grabbed her sister's shoulder bag and the manila envelope she was carrying under her arm, Tomoko walked around Takako's apartment with unconcealed pleasure, as if she owned the place. Not resisting, Takako went into the bedroom and collapsed on the neatly made bed. She could tell that her pulse was beating abnormally fast. There was a throbbing pain in the middle of her head, and her entire body, from her toes to the top of her head, felt as heavy as lead.

  "You OK, Sis?"

  She could not reply.

  "Why don't you at least take a bath? You'll feel better."

  In Takako's mind there emerged a picture of the wolf-dog she had yet to meet, steadily surveying the scene. Transformed to a wretched human-killing machine, it lived apart, in splendid isolation. Where was it now, what was it doing? Stalking someone else in the black of night?

  "Come on now. Are you always this out of it when you come home?"

  If the creature was going after designated victims at its owner's bidding ... But could the wildness in its blood stop there? Was there a chance it could develop a taste for human flesh?

  "Are you OK? Do you feel sick or something?"

  "What are you doing here?" Somehow Takako managed to get the words out. No answer. She turned over on the bed and slowly opened her eyes. Her sister stood there, her lips pursed, a confused look on her face.

  "I told you to go home."

  "You know, you—"

  "Someone else got killed today. I really don't have time to waste on your tawdry little affair."

  Her sister's face contorted. Takako forced herself to sit up, using her last bit of strength. She felt hot.

  "Stay tonight. It's too late to go home now, but tomorrow I want you out of here." Her breathing was ragged. She laid a hand on the bed and tried to stand up when vertigo nearly toppled her over. Tomoko quickly grabbed her by the arm.

  "You've got a fever!"

  Tomoko pushed her sister back down on the bed. After that, Takako obediently changed into pajamas and got into bed. As she lay dozing, with amazing speed her sister provided a soft fever-cooling gel sheet and some aspirin. Nearly delirious, Takako managed to ask, "I had gel sheets in the house?”

  “No, I bought them. You didn't have anything here. You don't even need that great big refrigerator."

  Her sister's voice sounded like their mother's. Dimly aware of someone gently wiping the perspiration from her forehead, Takako fell asleep.

  When Takako awoke in the morning, her fever had broken. Her sister was asleep on the floor under a blanket, her legs under the kotatsu. Having sweated profusely, Takako felt much better but she was ravenous. She stole into the kitchen. A pan on the stove turned out to be full of an appetizing curry. The rice cooker was on warm, the rice ready to eat. As she rattled around getting herself a meal, Tomoko woke up, sleepy-faced.

  "It must be lonely when you get sick."

  Sitting with a cardigan thrown over her shoulders, her mouth full of curry and rice, Takako looked up at her sister. "This still doesn't mean you're living with me, OK? I want you out of here today. Leave when I do—and go to work."

  "Please."

  "Didn't you hear me? Don't make me an accessory to your extramarital affair. You know perfectly well why I got divorced."

  "But your case and mine are—"

  "They're exactly the same. Adultery is adultery. Unfaithfulness is unfaithfulness. You're in love right now, so you don't see that. But while you and he are off having yourselves a grand old time, somewhere else there's someone weeping bitter tears. And that person resents the hell out of you. Even if you end up living happily ever after, your happiness would be built on top of her pain and resentment. Don't forget that."

  With barely another glance at her sister's pouting face, Takako polished off the rest of her curry and quickly went to take a shower. She had been too sick to study the list and pamphlets last night, but it was just as well; her brain needed rest. Having her sister around at such a time, she had to admit, was a godsend. Mustn't start counting on her, though. Even if they were sisters, they led very different lives. Tomoko needed to find her own way through her troubles.

  Whichever path she chooses to take.

  The wolf-dog, whose existence she had forgotten for a night, now roamed back into her thoughts. As the jets of hot water pounded her, Takako wondered fleetingly where she and Takizawa would go today, what they would see, what would unfold. She would still be with the emperor penguin, even if he seemed to be more decent to her. Must be careful he doesn't suspect she'd gotten ill. If she kept telling herself that, surely her temperature would stay down.

  Three

  1

  The following day, additional investigators were brought in on the case, doubling total manpower.

  The morning meeting brought the news from forensics that the tooth and claw marks, as well as the animal hairs, found on the third victim were established to be from the same canine that h
ad attacked Kazuki Horikawa. Hearing this plunged Takako into gloom. Mentally she addressed the unknown creature: All this killing. Don't make it worse. Where in god's name are you? Stalking someone else at this moment?

  Even though Takako had never seen a live wolf-dog, its image from the brochures and books was vivid. She could picture it in the Alaskan wilds, running across vast distances, but in an overpopulated city lacking even the musky scent of earth, where would it hide? Takako's heart ached, which mystified her. The wolf-dog was nothing but a wolf with a little bit of dog thrown in, and yet she found herself becoming almost emotionally involved with the creature. Apparently, it had been trained to direct its violent tendencies toward certain specific individuals; but she was sure that around anyone else it would behave with natural timidity and reserve, not like the aggressive killer it had become. It was not the wolf-dog that deserved her hatred.

  The morning report continued: