Ueda brushed the compliment aside with a demure wave as he bowed. “Now, now. Just doing my job.”
“Oh, and of course, this is Detective Kimura,” Endo said with a nod in her direction. “She’s heading the actual investigation.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Detective,” Keiko said. “Great to see a woman in a position of power in the police force.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Let’s hope you actually know what you’re doing. I’d hate to find out you were here as some bullshit diversity push or something.” With that, Keiko brushed by Mei to take a seat with the others.
Mei ignored the slight and walked up to the podium. Well, at least that explains what we’re doing in the nice conference room, Mei thought. It almost seemed like they were in an entirely different building from the shithole office her team had been relegated to.
Just as she was about to begin, Ueda took a phone call, then got up to open the door. In walked a man whose stiff formality had an almost military feel to it. His iron-gray hair had been clipped into a tight crew cut, and his weathered face had a hard look that Mei guessed had been chiseled into it in some far-off, long-ago warzone. He was wearing a uniform that she wasn’t familiar with, as it wasn’t a typical police uniform. At least none she was aware of. It almost looked like a military officer’s uniform, but without the epaulets. Both the uniform and the beret the man wore were entirely black.
“Gentlemen, and Ms. Matsura,” Ueda said, again ignoring Mei. “Allow me to introduce Major Ozaki. He will be sitting in on today’s briefing as well.”
“Oh, you’re a major now?” Keiko asked with a cocked eyebrow. “Must make it easy to rise through the ranks when you make up your own titles.”
“Hello, Matsura. Always a pleasure,” Ozaki said. “Gentlemen.”
Endo looked somewhat disconcerted. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we aren’t acquainted. Are you with the Self-Defense Forces?”
“Major Ozaki is here representing the Dark Army,” Ueda said.
“I was not aware they had taken an interest in this affair,” Endo said. “Or had the proper clearance to be here.”
“We do,” was all Ozaki said as he seated himself.
“Very well, Detective Kimura, if you would.”
“Right. I know you all must be busy, so I’ll keep this brief. My team is still running background on the victims in an effort to find a common link. So far it appears largely random. We have turned up a lead from DNA evidence found at one scene which points to Masahiro Shiku, a known criminal. Finding him is now priority one of the investigation, and we are currently canvassing previous known whereabouts. However, with no known address or formal place of employment, this is difficult. He is believed to be staying in the vacants on the reclaimed islands in the bay.
“In addition, we have increased patrols in the Shibuya and Minato areas, as this is the killer’s primary stage of operations, though these efforts have been limited by budget and operating limitations. I will now take questions.”
“I have one,” Keiko said. “Why haven’t you caught this guy yet?”
“Ma’am, we are doing everything in our power to—”
“I’m not interested in that, and neither is the governor. You’ve got to understand the optics of the situation from a political standpoint. We ran on a platform emphasizing law and order, and every day that the killer is loose, we lose face in the eyes of the public.” After she finished, something else seemed to occur to Keiko. “Oh, and of course there is the loss of human life and everything. Which is just deplorable and whatever.”
“We’re working round the clock to—”
“I’m afraid I must agree with Matsura-san,” Ueda said. “This killer must be brought to justice with all haste.”
“Now, I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” said Ozaki, the newcomer. “But these sorts of investigations take time, proper police work, patience. They can’t be rushed for political expedience.”
“Yes, yes, quite right,” Ueda said. “We must strike the optimal balance between speed and efficacy.”
Mei could see why Ueda was such a fast riser.
“Detective Kimura is doing the best she can with the limited resources she’s got,” Endo said. “But it would help enormously to have the budget to increase patrols still further and assign more people to the team.” He looked at Ueda.
“Yes, well, I’ll run it past my people, see what I can do.”
Yup, Mei thought. Figures.
“But what I can offer you right now is the assistance of the Dark Army. Major Ozaki, if you would?”
Mei saw both Endo and Keiko perk up as if they had just been slapped to attention. She smiled inwardly.
“Yes, Detective Kimura,” Ozaki said. “We can pick up some of the slack with foot patrols, surveillance, and so forth. We have a volunteer force, but many of them have martial skills and could be of assistance to you.”
Ueda nodded. “Yes, in fact I would like you to coordinate your efforts with Major Ozaki in the future, Detective. Keep him apprised of the situation at all times.”
“You’re asking her to report to Major Ozaki, is that correct?” Endo asked. “Because this is rather unusual for—”
“Nothing that formal,” Ueda said. “More of a collaboration. But yes, Detective Kimura is to report to him on a regular basis.”
Mei saw Endo and Keiko exchange a glance. Then Keiko turned to Ozaki.
“Well played. I’m guessing this came from up top?”
“It’s not a game, Matsura,” Ozaki said. “But yes, it did.”
“Come on, now,” Ueda said. “We’re all on the same side. We all want the same thing.”
“Well, not exactly the same thing,” Keiko said. With that, she got up and left the room.
“Detective Kimura, do you understand your orders?” Ueda asked.
They were orders now? That caught her by surprise. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but she nodded anyway.
“Excellent. Dismissed.”
Chapter Nineteen
Satoshi sat at the bar, turning the events of the last few days over in his head.
He now knew that Masa had been in contact with Ozu recently—maybe was even staying with him—since he was now a floater without a fixed address. It was something, at least. And it brought him one step closer to finding Masa. For better or worse.
Whiskeys one and two were devoted to his work problems. Then whiskeys three and four were devoted to his home problems. Because lately he had been starting to have second thoughts about fatherhood. He hated to admit it to himself (and was afraid to admit as much to Hisoka), but doubts had been gnawing at him lately. Was this really a good idea for someone in his line of work? He knew from experience just how wrong things could go. Were they making a huge mistake? Or was this just the normal fear every parent felt and tried to rationalize away?
His reverie was soon interrupted.
“You look like you’re drinking with a purpose. I like that.”
Satoshi looked up to see a woman addressing him. She was maybe ten years his senior, with a sort of wizened and world-weary barstool-philosopher vibe to her. He looked back at the whiskey in his hand (number five, or was it six?) and shrugged.
“Something you did, or something you’re about to do?”
“What?”
“People slugging them down the way you are are usually trying to forget something they did, or get their courage up for something they’re about to do.”
Satoshi didn’t like the turn this had taken already. “Just getting my courage up before going home.”
“Trouble with the missus?”
“You could say that.”
“Buy me a drink and I’ll help you out with it,” the woman said, sliding into the next seat.
Satoshi eyed her before halfheartedly flagging down the barman.
They were in a small counter bar on the third story of a building overlooking the train lines feeding into Sh
ibuya Station. On clear nights you could even see the lines; on cloudy nights they were just rumbles passing through off in the fog. Off to one side there was a small park full of palm trees and other vegetation that came right up against the elevated train line. Satoshi thought that it had once had a basketball court in it, but now it just looked like an explosion of foliage growing amidst the concrete.
“Mariko,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.
“Satoshi.”
“Thanks for the drink, Satoshi. I’m avoiding a … volatile home situation myself at the moment.”
“Everything alright?”
“It will be in a few hours, once he’s slept it off. How about yourself? What’s got you slugging whiskey like it’s going out of style?”
“My girl’s pregnant. I’m still … adjusting to the idea, you could say.”
“Not ready to be a daddy, is that it?”
“I just don’t know what to do.”
“Oh shit. You’re not thinking of pulling a runner on her, are you?”
“No, nothing like—”
“Trying to decide if you’re going to keep it?”
“No, we’re keeping it. Just trying to wrap my head around the idea of becoming a father, that’s all. And right now everything I do or say seems to be the wrong thing.”
“That’s the hormones, that will pass.”
“Well … I haven’t been the most supportive partner in all this either.”
“I hope this is a one-off drinking-while-your-girl-waits-up-at-home session, and not a nightly ritual for you.” She fixed him with a pointed look over her glass.
“It is. Things at work are … hectic now.” She shot him another look, and he hastened to add, “At the firm, I mean.”
She snorted and almost spat out her drink, then started laughing. “Oh, at the firm, eh? Let me guess, you work for one of those corporate companies that does business transactions. How are your quarterly accounting figures looking? Businessy? Nice tats, by the way. They really distract from the scar tissue covering your knuckles.”
Satoshi glanced down at the hand holding his whiskey glass. His jacket sleeve was riding up to reveal a colorful tattoo that stopped several inches from his wrist. The knuckles of the hand covering his glass were scarred and battered beyond repair.
“Well, seems like you saw through my clever ruse.”
“Wasn’t that clever. Hardly even a ruse.”
“So … so I walk the Path.”
“So you walk the Path. Doesn’t mean you can’t be a good father.”
“That doesn’t put you off?”
“Who am I to judge? I’ve seen all types. Saints, sinners, whores, hustlers, con men, marks, druggies, whatever. Everyone’s covering for something, or trying to fill some hole. And none of them are who they seem on the outside. Especially not the self-anointed ‘saints.’”
Satoshi nodded. “Thanks. But I’m pretty sure that not knowing the first thing about being a dad means I probably won’t be a good father.”
“Oh, being a parent isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out. Look at you, you seem like you turned out alright. So just think back to what your parents did when they were raising you.”
Well, one disappeared—probably weighted down in Tokyo Bay somewhere—and the other shattered to pieces, respectively, Satoshi thought. Instead of rehashing that, he just nodded.
“So do that. You figure shit out as you go along.”
She smiled and looked down. She was sloshing the liquor around in her glass.
“I’ll tell you a story. When my son was born, it damn near killed me. Complications, bleeding, all that. I fainted when he was born, had to be wheeled away for emergency surgery to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t until the next day that I regained consciousness. When I did, my husband finally placed my son in my arms and I was able to hold my baby boy for the first time. This beautiful boy that almost killed me trying to get into this world. And when I finally held him, and looked in his tiny little face, do you know what happened?”
Satoshi shook his head.
“That little bastard shit all over my arm. I mean, all over. Ruined the bedsheets, even.”
Satoshi found himself smiling despite himself.
“I died laughing,” she went on. “Nearly shit myself, I was so weak. Point is, things don’t always turn out the way you expect with kids. So go in with an open mind. The two of you should be able to handle it together.”
“Good advice.”
“The operative words in that sentence being ‘two of you’ and ‘together.’ Nothing kills a relationship faster than an absentee partner. You’ve got to be there for your lady. Otherwise, you’ll only get to see your kid grow up on the weekends you have visitations.”
Satoshi nodded. It hurt to hear it. But then Satoshi figured he probably needed to hear that. “Yeah, good point.”
“So what say you finish up here and go to your lady, alright? I’m sure she’s waiting for you.”
He paid his tab and began walking for the door.
“Thanks for the advice,” he called out.
“Anytime.”
Chapter Twenty
Mei and Kentaro sat at a cafe. They had just come from interviewing another potential lead that had gone nowhere. She tried to push the fear of failure from her mind long enough to focus on the conversation. It wasn’t easy.
“How are things with … what’s your daughter’s name again?”
“Chao-xing. And she’s great!” Kentaro said, brightening noticeably. “She’s smart, all her teachers say so. And you can tell just by talking to her that she’s quick for her age.”
“Athletic?”
“Well, no, she’s had some health issues, but now she seems to be doing fine.”
“You still talk to your ex much? I want to say …”
“Ling. We talk every now and then. It’s … civil between us.”
“So no chance of a reconciliation?”
“I doubt it. You know how it goes. She didn’t like the long hours, the late nights. ‘You’re married to the job!’ she’d say.”
Met started to laugh at that one. “I hear that. ‘It’s just a job, it doesn’t define you!’” she said mockingly.
“Yeah. It’s like people only know how to talk about police work in worn-out cop show clichés. ‘You love the job more than me!’ ‘If you spent half as much time with your family as you did with criminals …’”
Mei warmed up to the topic. “Exactly! ‘You’re just using your job to plug the hole in yourself,’ ‘You just use it as a crutch to avoid growing as a person!’”
Kentaro looked at her funny after that last one.
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, who isn’t filling a hole?” Kentaro said as he sipped his coffee.
“But why us? Why are we doing this job instead of someone else?”
“Who else but people like us could do this job? How does that line go again? Something about being the watcher on the wall, a shield for our fellow men?”
“I didn’t know you were such a fan of classic literature,” Mei said. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is: what is it about us that makes us stick with this thankless gig, when anyone with any sense at all would avoid this pit of quicksand?”
“And I’ll say again: who else but us? You’ve got mass unemployment throughout the city, but the department is still criminally understaffed. Why? By accident? No, it’s because nobody wants to do this damn job. When kids started disappearing in those kidnappings when the fog rolled in, everyone shook their head and said how sad it was. Probably only about one in a hundred thousand actually did anything about it.”
“I can’t believe that we’re the only ones who think that’s fucked up.”
“We’re not. But knowing something is wrong and doing something to fix it are two entirely different animals. Besides, most people see crime in this city as a lost cause. They think evil has already won.”
“You don’t?” Mei ask
ed over the rim of her coffee mug.
Kentaro shrugged. “I used to think in terms of winning and losing. Now I think in terms of containment. We catch the worst that we can, and overlook some of the not-so-bad guys out there.”
“So you would just give up on catching some of these guys? Just roll over?”
“In a perfect world, on a perfect police force, I would catch everyone. But we don’t live in that world, and instead we work for the NPA, which is far from perfect. We do what we can with what we’ve got. And sometimes that means sleeping with the enemy.”
“Christ, you sound like you’re ready to start making them breakfast too. I say fuck the syndicates, fuck the cartels, and fuck all the wannabe soldiers they employ. Cut the head off the snake and be done with it.”
“As much as you hate the syndicates and the cartels, have you ever stopped to think what would replace them? Because I have. And honestly, I’m starting to think that the organized crime we’ve got is better than the disorganized crime we’d get in that case.”
“How so?” Mei asked.
“Turf wars, battles for successions, this gang poisoning that gang’s drugs to send a message, that gang retaliating with open warfare. And on and on, the widening gyre sucking in more gang members and civilians as war rages in the streets. Believe me, what we’ve got now isn’t perfect, but it’s the lesser of two evils.”
“How can you say that? You’re basically talking appeasement.”
“Hey, if it brings a semblance of peace …”
“It doesn’t. When you turn a blind eye, you’re just sanctioning criminality. Sending the message that a certain level of lawlessness will be tolerated, and emboldening them to go further. We shouldn’t be turning a blind eye to this shit, we should be striking at the heart of these organizations.”
Kentaro shrugged. “Sure. That’s an idea. But you’ve still got the chain of command to go through. How are you going to get official approval for your war on crime when half of the higher-ups are on the take in one form or another?”
“Are all of the brass dirty? I mean, I knew Endo was, but I didn’t think—”
“I’m not talking about the brass. I’m talking about the politicians that make the laws that we enforce. You start pulling up weeds in the underworld, and you have no idea how far up they reach. Into some seemingly respectable gardens, even. Pretty soon you’re going to have problems from them.”
Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season Page 29
