Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  Yoshitomi shrugged. “Just what I read in the papers, really. It’s not my area of expertise.”

  “No, your area of expertise is hitting a ball with a stick and choking during the playoffs,” Chobei said with a grin, eliciting more nervous laughter from the assembled crowd. “And just what does it say in the papers about the Taira-kai?”

  “Just that they’ve been backing some legit businesses like payday lenders and real estate offices to get a foot in the door. Also branching out into gambling, running drugs and women, stuff like that.”

  Chobei shot his underlings a pointed look. Kido just shrugged.

  “We’re on it,” Tamazaki said quietly.

  “Are we now?” Chobei said. “Well, if that’s the case, why wasn’t I informed of this?”

  Tamazaki cleared his throat and looked down. “I, uh, mentioned this to you before. You told me to handle it.”

  Chobei looked displeased, but finally he grunted and smiled for his guests. “Of course, must have slipped my mind. Hard to concern yourself every time a fly farts or a cockroach steals a crumb.”

  “Exactly!” Kido said, brightening. “These gnats aren’t anything for us to worry about.”

  “You see,” Chobei said, addressing the crowd. “These rubes from the hinterlands may have made it big making bathtub moonshine, or stealing rice from out of the field, or whatever they do. But they can’t rival an organization as powerful as the Kaisha. And you know why?”

  The onlookers shook their heads. Kido beamed in satisfaction. Only Tamazaki was afraid of where this was heading. He had never seen Chobei suffer a perceived slight—no matter how small—and just shake it off.

  “Leadership! Leadership, and the discipline and dedication it inspires. These are the foundations upon which all dynasties are built. That’s what the Taira-kai and other pretenders to the throne lack.”

  “Well, they say that Taira is a strong leader who inspires loyalty. And he’s got kobun like Soseki and—what was his name?—oh yeah, Hyobanshi, who are feared in their own right.”

  Tamazaki tensed up. The guy talking now was a middle-aged man with a much younger woman leaning on him. He looked vaguely familiar, and given the man’s news anchor looks and voice, Tamazaki figured he must have seen him on TV. He glanced at Chobei to see his boss quietly fuming.

  “I mean, I’m no expert or anything!” the man was quick to assure everyone. “Just repeating what our research team found when we did a report on the Taira-kai last month.”

  Chobei struggled to get his facial expression under control. “I’m not worried about them. Outsiders with no idea of what true leadership is don’t frighten me. I’ll show you what devotion looks like.”

  He glanced around at the assembled onlookers until he spotted Kido. He snapped his fingers and pointed at his underling, saying, “Come here.”

  Kido nervously approached. “Yeah, boss?”

  “You’re armed?” Chobei asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Got a blade?”

  “Always.”

  “Cut off your finger.”

  “Boss?”

  “Cut off your finger. Show them what true dedication looks like.”

  “But I … I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Well, now you just did by disobeying an order given to you by your oyabun. I’ll have that finger now.”

  The crowd had fallen completely silent, with all eyes on Kido. He shakily removed a small switchblade from its holster and flicked it open. Then he got down on his knees with one hand splayed over the coffee table. He laid a large wooden coaster out over the table. In any other context Tamazaki would have found that funny, but now he just looked on grimly. Kido’s other hand unsteadily held the blade over his pinky finger as he steeled himself to make the cut.

  “I can’t watch this!” one woman said before fleeing. Several others joined her, the rest looked on breathlessly.

  “I … I’m sorry, I can’t,” Kido said.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chobei said.

  He leapt from his seat and came around to Kido in a fury, snatching the blade from his shaking hand. Then he began violently sawing at the man’s pinky with one hand as he held his underling in place at the forearm with his other hand.

  Kido howled in pain as Chobei hacked away with the tiny blade. Blood spurted everywhere. A streak splashed across some of the nearby guests, who fled in disgust. Others who hadn’t been in the splash zone also left, many of them with queasy looks on their faces. Only a hardy few soldiered on to watch this display of forced mutilation play out to the end.

  After a full minute and a half of Chobei slicing at his underling, it looked like he had cut through the flesh around the pinky. But the bone was still in place. Swearing and sweating with the exertion, Chobei kept hacking away. A thick lock of hair had come loose from his ponytail and was now covering his eyes. Realizing that the bone was still holding the digit in place, he took the knife and began stabbing it, trying to hit the bone. Most of his stabs were off target, and just succeeded in leaving puncture wounds in Kido’s other fingers and the back of his hand.

  By now Kido was twisting away and trying to get free from Chobei’s grip as he screamed in pain. Chobei began twisting the finger, trying to break the bone to remove it, even standing up to straddle Kido’s shoulder for better leverage. His fingers kept slipping off Kido’s finger because of all the blood. After a few savage twists and yanks he was able to sever the hapless man’s pinky, which he held up for all to see.

  “There! You see?” Chobei said with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “That’s what true dedication looks like!”

  He continued to brandish the bloody and battered finger for anyone who would look at it. Most of the guests shrank away. Some still looking on bore wide-eyed looks of shocked disbelief, as if they couldn’t look away no matter how much they wanted to. At Chobei’s feet, Kido whimpered and sobbed as he cradled his mutilated hand in his shirt to staunch the bleeding.

  Tamazaki was the first to break the spell by moving.

  “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and get that on ice,” Tamazaki said. “I can drive you to the hospital.”

  He carefully helped Kido to his feet and began guiding him to the kitchen.

  “Here, you can take this with you,” Chobei said, tossing the severed finger after Kido. “I don’t need it anymore.”

  Tamazaki leaned down to gingerly pick up the swollen purple digit and carried it into the kitchen. As he was packing it in ice, it occurred to Tamazaki that Chobei had chanced upon Kido first because he had looked left to right when he was seeking someone for his demonstration. If he had looked right to left, he would have seen Tamazaki first. Then he would be the one with a mutilated hand.

  A young woman followed them into the kitchen soon after. She made a beeline for a bottle of whiskey on the counter, which she opened and took a heavy pull from.

  “That was fucked up. Are you alright?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  Kido was too focused on his pain to hear her, so Tamazaki answered for him.

  “He’ll be fine. They might be able to reattach it.”

  “Is he always like that?” she asked.

  “Sometimes.”

  “So why work for him? Knowing what he’s like and all.”

  “Oh, none of us have any illusions about what he is,” Tamazaki said with a sideways glance at Kido. “He’s the shacho’s son.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Hey, girlfriend! How’s it going?” came an overly chipper and cheerful voice from Mei’s phone.

  “What do you want, Kameko?”

  “Just to talk to my best girl! See how things are with you!”

  “Things are busy. What do you want?”

  “Just to toss your flailing investigation a lifeline,” Kameko said, resuming her normal speaking tone. “Turns out there might be a witness to the murder on Tsukishima.”

  “Yeah? Who?” Mei said, sudd
enly interested.

  “I’m spotty on details, but my source says he’s an old drifter named Ebina. Seems like he is, or at least was, living out of that factory. You didn’t see any signs someone might be there?”

  “We saw some scattered garbage and old camping gear upstairs. But it looked too old to still be in use.”

  “Well, it sounds like he comes and goes. It’s not much, but worth looking into. I’m going to check it out later today after I handle some other business.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do the same.”

  “Any other news from your end?” Kameko asked. “I don’t want this relationship to be one-sided. You know, like where I’m the only one making progress on the case.”

  “Funny.”

  It was early evening by the time Mei arrived at the island. Since she didn’t have a vehicle of her own, she took one of the unmarked patrol vehicles from the NPA’s garage. She parked several blocks away from the main camps and night markets on Tsukishima.

  As she walked through a makeshift camp, she saw people huddled around trash can fires. Others were gathered near food trucks, cooking greasy food in smoking cooking oil, or asleep in tents and lean-to structures. She saw people who had fallen through every crack there was, whose only option was to live on a disintegrating island so that they could stay in Tokyo. For what? Why did people still cling to this city? What did they see in this sinking ship that made them lash themselves to the bow?

  She couldn’t help them, couldn’t do a damn thing for them. She shook her head, as if trying to clear the thought from her mind. All she could do was play her role in the system. Her job, her only job, was to solve these murders before anyone else got hurt. So she trudged on through the sea of dirty faces casting suspicious glances her way.

  Mei ducked into one of the tents that was set up as a bar. She figured the booze would make people friendlier, or at least make them let their guard down. But when she asked about Ebina, she was met by hard, stony faces that had no comment for her. What the hell? She was dressed in her street clothes. Were people that guarded here, or did she still stand out as police?

  She ordered a drink. The other patrons mostly regarded her coldly, and she soon found the barstools around her empty. Undeterred, she walked over to a group of men and asked about Ebina. They quietly got up and walked away without saying anything. This process was repeated several times with different groups. Figuring the bartender couldn’t walk away from her, she tried him next.

  “Hey, I’m looking for a man named Ebina. Older guy, maybe. Camps out in the factories.”

  The bartender just shook his head.

  “Any idea where I might look?”

  No response.

  Mei drained her glass, then walked over to the nearest table and climbed up on it.

  “Alright, everyone, listen up!” she shouted. “I’m Detective Mei Kimura of the NPA! I’m here looking for a guy called Ebina. That’s all I know about him. If I don’t find him, that’s cool, I’ll just hang out here. Maybe call some of my friends on the force and get them down here. This can be our new hangout. We’ll be here every night for weeks, just—”

  “Alright, get the fuck off there!” the bartender shouted. He angrily beckoned her over.

  Mei jumped off the table and walked over. “You remember something about him now?”

  “Fuck’s sakes, you don’t have to scare off my customers. I’m just trying to make a living here.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a job too,” Mei said, glancing around at the now-nearly-empty bar.

  “He doesn’t come here, but I know of him. Older guy, with a military-surplus camo jacket. Wears those stupid—what do you call them?—like a fishing hat over his respirator. Try down by the Pit. Seen him there a few times.”

  “The Pit?”

  “Big hole that opened up a few years back. Swallowed most of the mall and half a school. Make a left out of here, then the first right and down about six blocks.”

  “Thanks,” Mei said, turning to leave.

  “Then, when you get there, be sure to throw yourself in it and drown yourself, you dumb bitch!”

  “You’ll drown before I will if you keep pouring drinks on this sinking island.”

  Mei followed his directions until she came across a large overgrown field. She saw several men standing out in it and headed their way. Judging from the rusty skeletons of the soccer goals and baseball backstop scattered about, it looked like the school’s athletic field. The schoolhouse itself stood nearby, the façade half-crumbled away to reveal the interior classrooms. As she drew near, she saw that an enormous hole had opened up in the field. Black water bubbled up from the bay below, half-submerging the building materials that had fallen into the pit.

  Several men were huddled around a trash can fire at the top of the hole, where the ground began sloping away. A few other people stood around in scattered groups, talking and drinking. She approached one group with a man that fit the bartender’s description.

  “Hello there,” Mei said in her friendliest voice. Of course, it was hard being friendly through a face mask. “I’m looking for a man named Ebina. You guys know him?”

  The other two men began backing away, leaving her with the man in the camo jacket.

  “Well, now, must be my lucky day!” Ebina said, peering into her mask. “Not often young women come asking around for me.”

  “I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

  “Anything, my dear, anything at all. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m with the police. I heard you may have witnessed a crime.”

  Even behind his mask, she could see his face fall. He began backing away.

  “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I don’t know anything about that.”

  “About what, sir?”

  “About … I’m going to walk away now.”

  Mei stepped towards him. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Several of your possessions were found near the scene of the crime.” She was guessing, but from his expression, it looked like she’d guessed right. “I don’t think you did it, but that gives me enough leverage to charge you and officially bring you in for questioning.”

  “I didn’t do—”

  “Anything, yeah, I know. Still, the law is stacked in my favor. So how about instead of that, you come in voluntarily? You’ll be out in a few hours, and I’ll even buy you dinner. How does that sound?”

  The man shook his head. “Sounds like extortion. So let’s just cut to the chase. How much do you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on. This is a shakedown, right? So how much do you want?”

  “This isn’t a shakedown. I’m looking for information.”

  “Right, sure, okay. But really, how much do you want?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Look, we both know cops don’t come out here to enforce the law. The only reason police ever come round here is to make their arrest numbers. Or, usually just shake us down to look the other way and let us stay here.” The anger was beginning to flare in his voice now. “So why don’t you just tell me how much money you want to look the other way and let me continue existing?”

  He had worked himself up now and was panting. Mei regarded him evenly.

  “I’m police. I’m investigating a murder that happened close to here. One which I have reason to believe you witnessed. I want whatever information you have that will lead me to catch the killer. That’s it.”

  “Right, right, right. Just drop this ‘last honest cop’ bullshit and save us all some time.”

  Mei was starting to feel bad about throwing her weight around with the man, and back at the bar. She was realizing that the people here were very familiar with the police, but not in a positive way. She took out her wallet and removed three thousand yen, which she tucked into his pocket.

  “For your troubles. And I’ll buy dinner. We don’t even have to go to the station.”

  He
regarded her skeptically without moving.

  “And I’ll even throw in an apology for the way I acted.”

  He nodded slowly, still looking leery—like he wasn’t familiar with this new con and wasn’t sure how it was going to play out.

  “Alright.”

  “Good man.”

  Mei walked Ebina back towards her car with a hand on his shoulder. As she approached her vehicle, she saw someone lying on the hood, and realized it was Kameko. Mei watched her send a brief text by phone, then leap down off the hood.

  “Ahoy there, partner!” she called out. “Seems like you’ve caught something!”

  “What the hell are you doing on my car? And how did you even know it was my car? It’s unmarked.”

  “I was waiting for you to get back. And I figured it was yours because they don’t much care for police out here on the reclaimeds.” With that, Kameko nodded towards the vehicle’s rear end. Mei followed her look to see her rear axle propped up on two cinder blocks.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, real shame about that. This the guy?”

  “I’m nobody,” Ebina said. Mei could feel his shoulder tensing up where she was guiding him.

  “The nobody who saw what went down in that factory over yonder? The night two people got killed?”

  Mei eyed Kameko. She wanted to find the leak in her department that was giving up information to Vasili and his people and plug it.

  The man looked frightened all of a sudden. “I … I don’t know nothing about that.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” Kameko said.

  Mei was about to protest when she saw a large black SUV glide up next to them. Jun emerged and went around to open the rear door.

  “Okay, thanks, Mei,” Kameko said. “But we’ll take it from here.” Kameko began ushering Ebina towards their vehicle.

  “The fuck you will! He’s my witness!”

  “Trust me, you better let us handle this,” Jun said, stepping up to Mei. “We’re better equipped for such situations.”

  Ebina had looked scared before, but now he looked positively terrified. He kept looking back at Mei to intervene. But when she tried to get closer, Jun blocked her with his body. She was getting desperate. She knew that if they got away with her witness, the next time she saw him he’d likely be dead. Condemned to die to protect whatever secrets he carried.