Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  “That’s still going? Wow. Alright, how about the Philippines?”

  Satoshi almost choked on his drink. “No! They execute guys like me on sight there. Did you hear about those Australian college girls they hung for littering?”

  “Oh no, let’s not do that, then.” She looked through the printouts again. “Well, that’s about all I had for now. Where else would be a good destination?”

  “I dunno. Let’s look into it. Not many nice places left anymore.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers. Thus it is written in Proverbs 6:16-19, and thus it is so. Amen.”

  “Amen,” the congregation intoned back.

  Mei sat in the warm church, listening to the monotone preacher drone on. She was drowsy but trying not to show it. She was accompanying her father this Sunday morning to church, a ritual they went through about once a month. Having been born to and raised by two devout Christians, Mei considered herself religious, even if she didn’t attend church every week. Her father, however, didn’t exactly see it that way, and tried to guilt her into attending with him every time he went.

  Once the service was over, the two of them walked to a cafe for lunch.

  “Have you been following this banking scandal?” her father asked when they had been seated.

  “I haven’t had a chance to do anything but work this case.”

  “I tell you, those are the real criminals. You ought to go after them. They’re saying at the height of the scandals, GCBC was pulling in trillions of yen each year. Trillions. Kind of makes other crime seem almost quaint.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d call murder and mutilation ‘quaint,’ but I take your meaning.”

  “What’s the latest?”

  Mei filled her dad in on the incident at Club Hyperion. Naturally, she left out her meeting with Vasili afterwards.

  “Wow. Even after all that, they kept you on?” He thought for a moment. “They must really want you on this case.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, that was grounds for dismissal and then some. I guess you should be happy. It speaks to your reputation that they kept you on despite all that.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

  “I’m just saying. So where are you with the case? Any promising leads?”

  She told him about the case as he nodded along.

  “See, that’s what bothers me about this case,” Mei said. “The fact that there isn’t any evidence.”

  “I would have thought the dead, mutilated bodies would bother you about the case.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Of course. But you’re right. This kind of professionalism is unusual.”

  “Exactly. This isn’t some messy psycho fetishist who gets off on killing people and mutilating bodies. This is carefully orchestrated.”

  “Maybe they were suicides,” her father said offhandedly, taking a sip of coffee.

  “I figured you, of all people, should know to take this seriously.”

  “Then show me how by taking it seriously yourself!” He slapped the table as he shouted this, making her coffee spoon clatter against the saucer. “Come on, show me some inspiration here! Show me you’re not sleepwalking through this case. What have you done so far?”

  “Alright, if you really want to know,” Mei said, “we’ve run background on all four of the victims so far. Interviewed family, coworkers, and close friends of all except the girl. We couldn’t find much on her. This didn’t yield much.”

  “It never does, unless the killer is sloppy as hell. What else?”

  “We also cross-referenced their credit card and bank card usage in their final days, as well as phone records. Trying to get their daily patterns down to see if there was any deviation in the days leading up to their deaths.”

  Her father nodded along. “That’s good. What else?”

  “Well, I’ve been trying to get patrols in the Shibuya District doubled. On the off chance that he gets careless.”

  Her father waved the thought away. “You’ll never catch someone this careful that way. What about the leads the last detective was working? Anything promising?”

  “I think he was more interested in chasing headlines than the killer. He was looking into a connection with some of the death cults.”

  “You don’t think it’s worth pursuing?”

  “No evidence of any involvement.”

  “Besides the mutilated bodies, you mean?”

  “That’s not a definitive link. Besides, there’s nothing tangible linking the murders to the Invited, the Cult of Under, or any of the others.”

  “Then how do you explain the mutilation?”

  “Honestly? I think this guy wants attention. That’s the only explanation that makes sense to me. That’s why he dropped a body on the governor’s press conference like that, for maximum effect.”

  “He’s theatrical, I’ll give him that. Any other patterns you see?”

  “Yeah. Organized crime.”

  “Christ, here we go,” her father said with a shake of his head.

  Mei asked him to hear her out, then explained the evidence for it.

  “If it rains tomorrow, you’d find a way to blame the syndicates.”

  “So what are you saying? The connection’s not worth pursuing?”

  “I …” He sighed. “Of course it’s worth pursuing. It sounds like the best lead you’ve got. I just don’t know if it’s the best you’ve got because it’s the lead you’ve been chasing, or because it’s for real.”

  “Maybe you’d like to take a look at the evidence?” Mei offered. “Oh, wait, I forgot. You gave up a long time ago.”

  Her father just shook his head. “Alright, alright. What do you think of your new team?”

  “They seem alright. No all-stars or anything, but they should be able to help out with some of the lighter lifting. At least I’ve got Kentaro there to help me.”

  “Glad to hear it. Just watch out for the bullshit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, just that they’ll test you. Always happens with new team leaders.”

  “Like what kind of tests?”

  “Just to see what they can get away with. What you’ll allow. If they think you’re weak, they’ll walk all over you. But if you’re too much of a hardass, that will alienate them and you’ll be on your own. You’ve got to walk a fine line when you’re in charge.”

  “I think two of my guys are already testing me. They both put in overtime requests for a night when I know for a fact they weren’t working, because we went for drinks together. One of them—Kato—was even smirking about it after.”

  “Yeah, that’s the kind of thing you want to watch. They’re testing you.”

  “So what do I do? Never bend? That seems like a good way to piss them off.”

  “Be flexible when you have to, but stand your ground otherwise. Because if you bend too much, you’re already broken.”

  Mei nodded. “True, true.”

  “And always remember what First Corinthians 10:21 tells us.”

  Mei stared at him, not comprehending.

  Her father looked annoyed.

  “You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons.”

  “Right,” Mei said without making eye contact. “Good advice.”

  “That was amazing!” Tim said, sinking into the bed next to her.

  “Tim, rules!” Mei said harshly, pointing at the towel folded up next to her bed.

  “Oh, right, right.”

  He got up and wiped the sweat off his naked body before getting back into bed. When he tried to embrace her, she moved away.

  “You really don’t like cuddling, do you?”
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  “It’s fine,” Mei said. “Just not right after. Give me a minute to cool down.”

  “You know, in all the time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you completely naked.”

  Mei looked down at herself. “What do you call this?”

  “Yeah, but you never take this off.” Tim picked up the necklace that hung from her neck. It was a cross on a gold chain. “Are you religious or something?”

  “You could say that.”

  “That’s funny, because I—”

  “Hey, you weren’t planning on staying over or anything, were you?”

  He knew the drill by now, but he tried for it anyway. “Well, I was hoping that maybe—”

  “Because I have to get up early tomorrow.”

  Tim nodded and got up from the bed to gather his things.

  Chapter Twelve

  Footage of the wounded tanker had been plastered over every news channel and newspaper for days. Images of smoke and flames billowing from its hulls. Images of lifeboats taking off from the limping vessel. Images from inside the belly of the tanker, all twisted metal and blackened blast marks.

  It pushed all talk of the GCBC trial currently rocking the country off the front pages. Personally, Vasili couldn’t wait until that was back on everyone’s mind. Not because he necessarily liked hearing about collusion and price-fixing in financial markets, but because right now he wanted the topic of conversation to turn to absolutely anything else. He thought about leaning on Ara at NHK some more but dismissed the idea. There was no way they could bury a story this big.

  He stood watching the coverage on one news show, where they were showing Coast Guard vessels tugging the damaged tanker through the bay with a police boat escort. He flipped to another, where they were interviewing a sailor aboard the ship describing the explosion. A third channel featured the governor of Tokyo railing against all of Japan’s enemies, both real and imagined. Vasili turned the volume up, then wished he hadn’t.

  “… will not stand for this! The people of Tokyo will not stand for it, I will not stand for it, and neither will the Genyoto behind me! This is terrorism, plain and simple. And such attacks must be met with full force!

  “For that reason, Genyoto lawmakers in the National Diet are fast-tracking a bill designed to provide legal sanction and approval to the Dark Army and similar groups to begin operating out in the light. This force in particular has played an important role in peacekeeping and aiding law enforcement within the capital—”

  “Bullshit,” Vasili said.

  “And by making them an official arm of the party, we hope to further expand their ability to protect the people of Tokyo. By vesting them with additional authority, they can begin helping to rein in such terrorists, while also targeting the homegrown threats to the good people of Japan, who are under assault from organized crime and gangster organizations like—”

  Vasili changed the channel again. This one showed more footage of the flaming vessel limping to port. The caption below read: “13 killed in blast, 19 injured.”

  “Looks like things just got more difficult,” Kameko said from behind him.

  Vasili nodded. “Looks that way.”

  “Well, come on, we’re going to be late for your next meeting.”

  Vasili and his assistants walked down the long hallway of the squat tenement building to Takabe’s makeshift office. The chickens clucking and pecking at the floor scurried out of their way, seemingly oblivious to the thrash metal music blasting from up on the third floor. Feathers fluttered around them, and the pungent smell of chicken shit was heavy in the air. If this wasn’t the worst meeting he had ever been to, it was certainly close.

  Two of Takabe’s people stationed outside the door opened it and ushered them inside. They found themselves in the tiny apartment that Takabe had repurposed into his office for this job. He was on the phone when they entered, but motioned for them to be seated in the sofa and chairs facing his desk. Fortunately, the inside of the room was somewhat insulated from the shrieking thrash metal blasting up above.

  “… just two more, and I think one’s about to break soon … Yeah, the chickens always do it to them. But this other guy … Exactly, he’s a tough motherfucker. But you know me, I’m going to get it done … That’s right. Alright, bye.”

  With that, Takabe turned towards them. “Vasili! Great to see you, buddy. And you too, Jun, Kameko. How is everyone?”

  Takabe was one of the most genial people Vasili knew in this business, which was strange given his coal-black heart when it came to everyone outside the organization. He had a good-natured sense of humor that was a bit on the dark side. A sardonic smile was constantly plastered to his thin face under a mane of hair that he kept slicked back. He was one of the few other bosses that Vasili genuinely liked, even if the man was kind of a gaping asshole.

  Takabe had fingers in lots of different pies, as they all did. But he primarily specialized in jiage, otherwise known as land-sharking. Essentially, land sharks were skilled at convincing landlords to sell their properties to larger developers who wanted the land. And landlords who were looking to sell their property but didn’t want to deal with the cumbersome task of legally evicting tenants would use them to “convince” the unwanted occupants to move out of their own accord. Takabe was a master in the subtle art of persuasion in such matters.

  “We’re fine, I suppose,” Vasili said. “Certainly better than the tenants here.”

  “Well, they’re mostly gone. Just an old lady on this floor who’s ready to sign, and a geezer upstairs. But this guy,” he said, pointing a finger upwards and laughing appreciatively. “This fucking guy is one tough nut to crack. I’ve been blasting metal round the clock and letting the chickens run wild. I even had manure hauled up to the balcony to his left, and started a raw garbage compost heap in the one to the right. Fucker hasn’t even blinked.”

  “So what’s next if this doesn’t work?” Kameko asked with a devious twinkle in her eye.

  “Well, next come the jackhammers. The building is gonna be torn down anyway, so we just start jackhammering away in the next room. Maybe knock out a water pipe while we’re at it.”

  “Have you tried to buy him out?” Vasili asked.

  “Oh, of course, that’s our first step. I even offered him a decent market rate for the place. But he says it’s got sentimental value.” Takabe said this with a wanking motion. “Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to listen to my heroic tales of derring-do. What can I do for you?”

  “Wanted to see if you could help me with a problem.”

  “Well, I’m not gay, but if you wanted to picture me when you’re trying to get hard, feel free.”

  “Funny guy, this one,” Vasili said to his assistants. “Actually, problem is raging hard-on who is trying to fuck me. Name of Matsuo, maybe you hear of him.”

  Takabe laughed. “Unfortunately I have. What’s the problem?”

  “My fixer Tetsuo is gone, killed by serial killer. Now Matsuo say price for me to operate construction businesses in Chiba is double. I know you have many contacts in construction there. I wonder maybe you can help me with this problem. Act as fixer of sorts, make him more reasonable.”

  Takabe leaned back in his chair to consider. “I don’t know. I can try, but I don’t know if I have that much pull with him, to be honest. I might be able to …”

  Just then the screaming thrash metal upstairs suddenly cut out, leaving Takabe to trail off.

  “Oh, what the fuck? Why is the music off?” Takabe said as he walked out to the men at the door. “Hey, get Ochiai down here. I want to know what’s up with the music.”

  He sat back down at his desk. “Sorry about that. As I was saying, I’ll give it a shot, but I can’t promise anything.”

  “Is all I ask. If it does work, I will owe you one. Is something you need, you just ask.”

  “What the fuck, Ochiai?” Takabe said, looking past Vasili towards the door. “What happened to the music?”r />
  Ochiai walked into the room, bowing to the guests before answering his boss. “I just talked to the guy on his way back in. At first he couldn’t hear me, then when he saw I was talking to him, he turned his hearing aid up. Guy’s almost stone deaf without it on.”

  “Fucking fuck,” Takabe said thoughtfully. “So he hasn’t heard any of the shit we’re playing?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d call Cannibal Cocksqueeze ‘shit’ per se, but …”

  Takabe’s face split open in an enormous shit-eating grin of appreciation as he leaned back. He pointed upwards again. “This fucking guy. We’re going to have to step up our game again.” He turned back to Vasili. “I’ll speak with Matsuo for you. See if I can get that grasping fuck to maybe part with a few coppers and give them back to you.”

  “You are most kind. A true gentleman.”

  “Yeah, I really am,” Takabe said absentmindedly. His gaze drifted upwards again. “I think I’ll have the boys pack cement into the sewage line out of his place. See how he likes his apartment when he’s drowning in shit.”

  “Well, I will leave you to it, good sir.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Oh, come on, Vasili, this shit again?”

  “What sobriety conceals, alcohol reveals,” Vasili said.

  Jun had finished going around the table and placing a bottle of shochu by each of Vasili’s lieutenants. Vasili motioned for them to fill their glasses from their bottles. Then he filled his own glass from the bottle of vodka that had been placed by him. He always drank from a bottle that was larger and full of vodka that had a higher proof than that of the shochu his lieutenants drank. This was to compensate for his higher tolerance for alcohol, which came from his fondness for vodka and his inherent Russian-ness (which some would say were one and the same).

  This was a ritual he had initiated several years ago with his lieutenants. He had taken the idea from Japanese business culture, where it was common practice for employees to be given free rein to criticize their superiors when drunk. He wanted brutal honesty to dominate among his inner circle, and he found that near-fatal doses of alcohol were an excellent way to promote the culture of openness and honesty he was after.