Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  “Vasili, thank you for joining us,” Chobei said. “This is Hiro Soseki, of the Taira-kai. Soseki-san, this is Vasili Loginovski, who needs no introduction.”

  The two men bowed to one another curtly. Soseki seemed to be gauging his bow carefully, so as not to bow deeper than Vasili did. Vasili was just trying not to stare at his face.

  “A pleasure, I have heard much about you,” Vasili said.

  “Oh, I quite doubt that,” Soseki said. “But I know all about you.”

  “Well, then, I’ll begin,” Soseki said, turning to Vasili. “A loan was provided in terms of medications on good faith. This loan was not repaid, and overtures for the vig owed were rebuffed. Violently, I might add. One of my men is in the hospital with a leg wound, which has since become infected.”

  “I hope it rots his brain,” Chobei fumed.

  Soseki nodded in Chobei’s direction. “Yes, that is exactly why we wanted a more … senior member of your organization to adjudicate.”

  “I hear story already. My advice is same as before. Chobei must repay loan plus vig that is rightfully owed. He is also to pay damages for your man.”

  “Nice of you to see reason. But I’m afraid that’s not enough anymore.”

  Of course not, Vasili thought. This was exactly what he was afraid of. Not that he blamed Soseki—the man was within his rights as the wronged party.

  “No, I also ask that you stand in as guarantor for Chobei. He has proven to be … less than trustworthy in his past dealings.”

  Chobei bristled. “I don’t need a guarantor babysitting me, I—”

  “Oh, but you do,” Soseki said. “I don’t trust you anymore. And I can’t deal with a man whose word is worthless. I need something backing what you say.”

  “How dare you? The backing of my organization should be more than enough—”

  Vasili put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture to silence him, then turned to Soseki.

  “You want me to guarantee what, exactly?”

  “Think of it like insurance. I want to know that if he defaults on another payment, I can seek restitution from you. Or at least I have someone to turn to who is more pragmatic in their thinking. Someone who understands how this business works.”

  Now Soseki seemed to be deliberately antagonizing Chobei. It was working, as the younger man was practically quaking with rage.

  “Well, what is your decision?”

  This put Vasili in an awkward position. If he said yes, then he was on the hook for this powder keg. He didn’t want to be using his good reputation to cover for Chobei’s numerous failures. He was already doing that enough as it was, and there was no telling how deep down Chobei could drag him. And if the fool instigated a war, what then? Would Vasili have to back him with his own men? He was already stretched thin putting out fires elsewhere.

  But if he said no, it would be taken as a slap in the face by Chobei, and possibly also by his mother. He didn’t much care what Chobei thought. Never had. But angering Eriko could bring reprisals, or raise questions about his loyalty. Nor could he just cut Chobei out of the equation and deal directly with Soseki, for the same reason. Once again, Vasili was kicking himself that the hit on Chobei hadn’t gone as planned.

  As these thoughts fought it out in his head, Vasili was painfully aware that the clock was ticking. Soseki just looked bemused, but Chobei seemed furious. No doubt he was angry to be assigned a babysitter, and doubly pissed that the babysitter was reluctant to take the job.

  Oh well, damned if you do, damned if you don’t, Vasili thought.

  “You have money to pay him?” Vasili asked.

  “Yes,” Chobei replied.

  “Very well, I will vouch for Chobei. He will pay you money owed, and I will help smooth out problems in future.”

  “Let’s hope it won’t be necessary. Thank you for being reasonable.” At that, Soseki cast a pointed glance in Chobei’s direction. “Now, if I may, could I have a word with my counterpart? Alone.”

  Chobei seemed about to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

  “Go on,” Vasili said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Chobei bowed to both men. He turned and motioned for his men to follow.

  Once the echoes of their footsteps had faded, Soseki turned to Vasili.

  “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds by saying I absolutely hate that arrogant little shit.”

  Vasili watched the tendons in his face tighten and slacken as he formed each word.

  “If you’re going to ask me to vouch for him, don’t go out of your way to piss him off.”

  “I can’t believe that man is a boss,” was Soseki’s reply.

  “You must know why he is.”

  “I do. Anyway, thank you for being reasonable.”

  “Again, you must know why I’m doing it.”

  Soseki nodded, then he grinned a hideous death-rictus grin that Vasili could see from both sides as he shook his head. “The bonds we bear, eh?”

  “The bonds we bear.”

  Chapter Seven

  Satoshi climbed the stairs of the dingy office building to the third floor, where Kozu’s office was located. The place seemed filthy, wholly unsuitable for any self-respecting company. Which made it perfect for Kozu’s operation.

  Kozu was one of Vasili’s lieutenants. His crew was primarily in charge of overseeing collection and protection work, as far as Satoshi remembered. Mostly collecting from suckers who got in over their heads with one of the Kaisha’s loan-sharking operations. His crew also provided protection to the various pachinko parlors, bars, clubs, and other establishments located near their offices, for a nonnegotiable fee. Kozu was the only one of Vasili’s lieutenants that Satoshi knew for a fact the big man disliked. But as Vasili always said, “Friendship is friendship, but service is service.”

  Kozu was short in stature but carried himself with the confidence of a taller, more arrogant ass. Or maybe it was the spiky hair, pointed cowboy boots with heels, and striped button-down shirts that made him seem taller. He had a knack for big sunglasses and jewelry, with both tattooed hands covered in large rings. Though the rings also served another, more practical purpose, for a shakedown artist like Kozu.

  Satoshi knew that Kozu tried to avoid getting his hands dirty himself when possible. But he had no qualms about having his crew get violent, sometimes to an excessive degree. Of course, from time to time, Kozu needed to prove to his own men that he was not to be fucked with. If he didn’t continually prove his mettle, the snarling animals who served as his foot soldiers were liable to turn on him and eat him alive. Satoshi had heard some dark rumors about what the man did to prove himself, but he didn’t know how much stock to put in them.

  In short, his crew was the perfect home for a guy like Masa.

  When Satoshi climbed to the third floor, he saw Kozu locking up his office.

  “Kozu. Wanted to talk to you for a minute, if I could.”

  “Hey, there … uh, Satoru? Shoji?”

  “You know my name.”

  “Maybe. What do you want? I’m heading to lunch.”

  “It’s five o’clock.”

  “It’s a late lunch. And now you’re making me later.”

  “I just need a minute. Need to ask you about Masa.”

  “Masa, Masa, Masa …,” Kozu said, stroking his chin as if struggling to recall. “Tall white guy?”

  “Short Japanese dude with a scarred face and a nasty temper. Worked with you for years.”

  “Oh yeah, him,” Kozu said as he snapped his fingers. “Haven’t seen him lately. Like in weeks. Tell him he’s fired, if you find him.”

  “Yeah, that’s the problem. Nobody knows where he is, and the big man needs to see him for something. Looking for any information you have on him.”

  “Sorry. I don’t keep records on my soldiers. Maybe try city hall? Ask for his tax filings.” Kozu sidestepped to try walking around Satoshi.

  Satoshi sidled over to block him. “You’re funn
y. If you don’t want to give me information, that’s fine. But I’m not above taking it.”

  The two men glared at one another, neither wanting to flinch.

  “What can I tell you to get you off my back?”

  “Where can I find Masa?”

  “I don’t know. Anything else?”

  “Well, you worked with him, you saw his day-to-day behavior. Is there anything there that can help me?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, anything that stuck out or was unusual. Was he seeing anyone?”

  “Only girl I ever heard him mention was Sachiko.”

  “Doesn’t exactly help me. How about a favorite bar, or place to eat?”

  “He seemed to like Japanese food. Ate a lot of that as I recall.”

  “Alright, smartass, if you don’t want to help …”

  “Look, he was a private guy who mostly kept to himself. I don’t know his address. He’s a floater. One of my other guys is convinced he’s been crashing with other people, maybe in capsule hotels, trying to stay mobile.”

  “You didn’t hang out after work?”

  “With him?” Kozu snorted. “Tried not to. He’d come to bars every now and then, but he wasn’t great to have around. Anytime he thought a waiter or bouncer was giving him lip, he’d bust their head open with an ashtray or something. Not the sociable sort, that one.”

  “You’re not giving me much to go on here.”

  “There is one thing. He mentioned going to Roppongi a few times. Think he might have been spending time in the clubs there.”

  “Never knew him to be much of a dancer,” Satoshi said.

  “No, but he didn’t object too much to getting his dick sucked.”

  “Oh, you mean the pink clubs?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you should try asking around at those.”

  “There’s only about two hundred of them. I’m sure it won’t raise any eyebrows if I start going door-to-door at those places asking questions.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “So no idea about an address, or anywhere concrete?”

  “Nope.”

  “Damn, Kozu, you don’t exactly run a tight ship here, do you?”

  “Hey, Masa made his collections, he hit his numbers, and when there was a problem he dealt with it. Oftentimes with extreme prejudice, I might add. As long as his envelopes weren’t light, I didn’t ask about his home life. Such as it is.”

  “Alright. I’ll keep looking.”

  “You think he’s even still in the city?” Kozu asked.

  “Of course he is.”

  “He likes it here that much?”

  “Oh no, he hates this city. But it’s the only place where anyone knows who he is.”

  “Seems like all the more reason to get out.”

  “You’d think that, but not for Masa.”

  Satoshi pushed through the door to Frenchy’s Bar. There he saw Ryu and another bartender pouring drinks as Frenchy entertained some customers, as usual.

  “Sorry, but I need to talk to Ryu for a few minutes,” Satoshi said, approaching the bar. “Preferably in private.”

  “Really?” the other bartender said incredulously. “We’re already down a man.” With that she motioned towards Frenchy, who was in the middle of a raunchy story for his captive audience that involved lots of hand motions.

  “Will just take a few minutes.”

  He ordered two beers for them, which they took to a nearby table.

  “Hey, I know I’ve been relying on you a lot lately. But I need to ask a few more questions.”

  “Shoot,” Ryu said.

  “So now I need to find Masa. Wanted to see if you knew anything about where he might be.”

  “Didn’t he show up for the parlay? Shit, man, I put it out there.”

  “No, he did. But I didn’t get the answers I wanted. So now I need to bring him in.”

  “To who, The Rock?”

  Satoshi nodded.

  “Damn, dude. Anything serious?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t tell me what it’s about.”

  “Shit. That’s cold-blooded, making you do your own brother like that …”

  “I’m sure he’s got his reasons.”

  “Well, I’ll keep my ear to the ground. But I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “How did you get my message to him before, about the parlay?”

  “I just kind of … let it be known. I talk to a lot of the people that pass through here and Last Resort. And since the clientele at both tends to straddle the line between the proper world and the underworld, word tends to circulate.”

  “Damn, I haven’t been to Last Resort in a while. Sounds like it’s gone downhill.”

  “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than Last Resort. At least, not if you’re awake and looking to party at six in the morning.”

  Last Resort was a notorious after-hours club situated in the middle of an office building. It was open from midnight to about noon or one the next day on weekends, when it played pounding techno in a windowless club for people too chemically altered to sleep.

  Satoshi’s favorite memory of the place involved having his dealer at the time dragging him into the women’s room to sell him some pills. When a staff member carrying a mop walked in on them (Satoshi with money in his outstretched hand and his dealer with pills in hers), the staff member apologized to them and marched right back out. But it seemed like everyone who partied in Tokyo had their own Last Resort story just as debauched as his.

  “You ever see him in there?”

  “On rare occasions. But not lately.”

  “Let me know if you do. So you don’t know where he’s staying, who he’s running with, any of that?”

  “Heard he hasn’t been working with Kozu’s crew lately. No idea where he’s bedding down. I get the impression he’s trying to keep a low profile. But, shit, if The Rock was gunning for my ass I’d probably do the same. He got family?”

  “Not anymore. He lost his mother early. His father was a bastard. That’s what set him on the Path.” Well, I might have played a part in that too, Satoshi thought.

  “Christ, I think shitty parents have got to be the number one recruiter for the crime syndicates. You came up together, right? Anyone he might turn to for help? Anyone from the past?”

  Satoshi almost said “me” but caught himself. The time for that was long gone. “I’ve got some ideas. I think I’ll follow up with them next. Not looking forward to that, though.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Feeling dejected, Satoshi was about to call it a night when his phone rang. Seeing that the call was from Kameko didn’t do much to lift his spirits.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, there. How’s the manhunt going?”

  “Not great. I’m chasing a trail that went cold long ago.”

  “Yeah, I figured. But you’re in luck, because I’ve got a hot lead for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How would you like to take a trip to beautiful Tsukishima?”

  “Why would I go to that sinking shitpot?”

  “Because Masa was seen there recently. Seems he was at the scene of the crime when Tetsuo got got.”

  Satoshi whistled.

  “Yeah. So get your ass to that ‘sinking shitpot’ and start asking around.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Classy.”

  Mei and Ina walked down the tacky hallway in the run-down building where Kozu had his offices. As they rounded the corner, they collided with a tall guy fumbling with his respirator on the way to the exit.

  “Watch it!” Ina barked.

  “My humblest apologies, Officer,” the man said, bowing deeply.

  “Listen, punk, you don’t want to get cute with me,” Ina growled.

  The man just walked on.

  “Forget it,” Mei said. “We’re here for Kozu.”

  As she said that, she turned the corner to see a man standing
there eying them.

  “Are you Takao Kozu?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Detectives Kimura and Ina,” Mei said. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Of course, Officers, what can I do for you?”

  Mei and Ina exchanged a glance. Usually yakuza weren’t this forthcoming.

  “I mean, I’m assuming the big man sent you, right?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Kozu’s demeanor changed suddenly. “Sorry, must have had you confused with someone else. And I’m kind of busy right now, so maybe another time.”

  “Are you refusing to cooperate with an ongoing investigation?”

  “Suppose I were?”

  That seemed to be the response Ina was hoping for. He began reaching for his handcuffs. Mei held out a hand to stop him.

  “You’re not a target, one of your former associates is. So helping us out isn’t going to hurt you.”

  “But refusing to sure as shit is,” Ina said.

  “On what charge?” Kozu asked.

  Ina, clearly a scholar in police procedure, took over. “How about obstructing officers of the law, for now? We can take you into custody for up to a month before charging you, so we’ll have time to think of something better. Of course, that gives us plenty of time to get a warrant to toss your office. That might turn up something juicy …”

  That got Kozu’s attention. “Alright. What can I help you with, officers?”

  “We’re looking for an associate of yours named Masahiro Shiku.”

  “Masa?” he snorted. “Why is that guy so popular all of a sudden?”

  “What do you mean?” Ina asked.

  “Nothing. Ask your questions.”

  “He’s wanted for questioning in relation to an ongoing murder investigation. We’re looking for any information you have on his whereabouts.”

  “Like I just told that guy, I haven’t seen him for weeks. He was called up for some assignment, then disappeared. Haven’t seen him since. Kind of figured he had been offed for something.”

  “What do you mean by ‘called up’?”

  “Higher-ups. They wanted him for some job or other.”