“I didn’t want this,” Satoshi said. “And I don’t know what you did to bring this on yourself. But …”
“But?”
“But you can’t say you don’t deserve it.”
Now Masa seemed taken aback. The apparition of Masa before Satoshi began to stutter in anger.
“How can … I mean, you of all … to even say that is …”
“I know what you are. Hell, you know what you are. Even if you didn’t do what Vasili thinks you did, you deserve this.”
Masa sputtered and raged, the way Satoshi had seen him do a hundred times before. Masa had never turned that violent temper of his on Satoshi, but the way he looked now, Satoshi half-expected Masa’s specter to take a swing at him. But the vision before him regained control, and the firestorm of fury in his eyes burned down to a look of ashen contempt.
“Well, it’s a shame, then, isn’t it?” Masa growled. “That people so rarely get what they deserve.”
Satoshi had to give him that. He nodded. “I suppose it is.”
Masa smiled his shark’s grin again. “Not to worry, though. I’ve got a feeling that you and I are going to get exactly what’s coming to us.”
With that, he clapped Satoshi on the back in a friendly gesture, then leaned on him to push himself up off his barstool. Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving the red velvet curtains hanging in the doorway swaying in his wake. Even as he watched him go, Satoshi felt the full weight of Masa still pushing down on him. His weary head sank back down to the bar and his overheated brain shut itself off, red fading to black all around him. As he lost consciousness, he thought it was strange that it had actually felt as if Masa had been leaning on him.
Later on, a few seconds or several days, he couldn’t tell which, he was roughly shaken from above. He cracked an eye open to see the bartender leaning over and jostling him awake.
“Come on. Get up. Get out,” the bartender said. “You’ve had enough.”
“But I’m not even drunk,” Satoshi mumbled as he rubbed his face.
“I never said you were,” the bartender said.
Satoshi stood up and started shuffling towards the door. He rubbed his face harder, as if that would dispel the humming in his brain. Ghost-Masa was right, he needed to lay off the Dextro-MXE. It was doing things to his brain that he didn’t fully understand, or like.
As he was fumbling with the red curtains at the entryway, the barman called after him.
“You should have left with your friend! You’d be home by now!”
When Satoshi finally limped home to his apartment, he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. To just forget about this hunt, and the toll it was taking on him. Unfortunately, when he got back, Hisoka was waiting for him on the couch. Her red eyes rimmed in tears and the tissues balled in her hands told him the story before she even said a thing. Oh right, he thought. It wasn’t just taking a toll on him.
“Work,” Satoshi said, without being prompted.
“This late?”
“I found him, but he got away.”
“Why are you walking funny?”
“I … took a tumble. It’s not bad.”
“Here, let me see it,” Hisoka said getting up off the couch.
He shrugged out of his overcoat, then removed his jeans. Hisoka looked at him.
“I can’t tell if you’re bruised or not because of your tattoos. Does this hurt?”
He winced when she touched his leg. “It’s not bad.”
“What about here?” she said, moving up his side.
“Yeah, that hurts,” he said, still wincing.
“Be more careful. And call next time call if you’re going to be out half the night!” Hisoka said. “I don’t like worrying about whether you’re safe or not because you couldn’t take a minute to call me!”
Satoshi apologized. He turned and started heading for the bedroom, when he noticed something in the corner.
“What’s that?”
He walked over towards a bedrest pillow. It looked large and heavy enough to support someone in a sitting position when they leaned back against it. On top it had a black wig in a hairstyle not unlike his own, with googly eyes and a fake mouth pinned to the front to give it a human appearance. Stuck to the front of the fabric was a name tag that said “Satoshi.”
“Oh, that. Some of the other couples at our—at my—prenatal class made that for me. You’ve missed so many of them now that they don’t think you exist. So they gave me that as a joke.”
“Well, he kind of looks like me,” Satoshi said. “But am I really that fat?”
“They were all laughing when they gave it to me. I had to fake-laugh along with them, but the whole time I just wanted to run from the room and start bawling.”
Satoshi came close and put his arms around her.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you much lately, but I’m—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re busy, I know. I don’t know what I expected, really. I guess I should just get used to the fact that it’s going to be like this.”
“Come on, you know that’s not fair. These are … unusual circumstances. This job will be over soon. Then I’ll be there for you more. I promise.”
“Sure, sure,” Hisoka said, sniffling. “But promises only mean a damn if you actually keep them.”
Satoshi nodded. He had nothing to say to that.
Chapter Two
“Why?” was all Mei said.
She was seated in the interrogation room next to Kentaro. Across from them sat a man who had casually introduced himself as Shigeo and confessed to being the murderer they were after.
“Why what?” Shigeo asked innocently.
“Why did you kill them?”
“I did it because they wanted me to.”
“They asked you to kill them?”
“No, but all people secretly yearn for death. For release. And I give it to them. Death works through me, as a disciple of Izanami. We are all invited by Izanami, the Mother of Death.”
“You said ‘invited.’” Kentaro said. “Are you with the Invited?”
“We are all invited, for Izanami—”
“Yeah, but are you with the group commonly called the Invited?”
“We are all invited—”
“Let’s try a different line of questioning,” Kentaro said. “Did you act alone, or were you aided by others?”
“All that I do, I do at the behest of Jin.”
“And who is Jin?”
“Jin.”
Shigeo began tracing out the character in the air. Kentaro tore a sheet out of his notepad and tossed it to him with a pen. Shigeo took it and drew a character without taking his eyes off the two detectives, then pushed the paper back to them. It read:
神
“What is this?” Mei asked. “Is this his name, or are you telling us he’s a god?”
“No, there is no other god but Death. Jin is just her messenger. She invites, and he extends the invitation.”
“So Jin is his name?”
“Yes. Jin is Jin. Part man, part djinn. Jin.”
Kentaro got up from the table and walked to the door. He leaned out and whispered to one of the cops waiting outside on standby. The man nodded and ran down the hallway.
“And this Jin, he told you to kill these people?”
“It was never spoken. It was understood.”
“So he didn’t give the order, but he hinted that it should be done?” Kentaro asked.
“He merely extends the invitation. I deliver it. Though not all who receive the invitation accept it.”
“So, wait, you’ve tried to kill others who got away?”
“No, they’re still with us. Just because they haven’t been accepted yet doesn’t mean they won’t be soon.”
Just then, the man Kentaro had spoken to returned and placed a thin folder in front of them. Kentaro looked up at him and mouthed, “Is this it?” The man just shrugged apologetically and backed out of the roo
m. Kentaro flipped through it for a bit, but apparently he didn’t find anything of use there. He soon tossed it aside.
“Okay, let’s get back on track here,” Mei said, rubbing her eyes. Frustration was starting to creep into her voice. “Let’s talk about the victims, starting with Hiroshi Sato. What was your connection with him?”
“I killed him.”
“Yes, but how? Why mutilate him? Why dump him at that construction site in the governor’s lap?”
“To show that all men and women die. That it is natural, nothing to fear. She comes for us all.”
“Alright, fine. How did you do it? How did you get his body onto a well-guarded construction site?”
“With Death, all things are possible. It is for me to will it, and it is so. As the Mother of Death works through me, in this and all things. I am her instrument, her dagger, to wield as she—”
“Okay, let’s move on. How did you kill Suga?”
“Which one was that?”
“He was a detective here tasked with finding you. You killed him. But you did it by cutting him open while he was still alive. Unlike the others, which you strangled first.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You don’t remember—”
“Death does not concern herself with names, and faces. Death is only here to show us the way.”
“The way to what?”
“The way of life.”
Two hours later, Mei and Kentaro emerged from the interrogation room more confused than before. They stood in the anteroom, watching him through the glass. Shigeo appeared totally unconcerned with the proceedings, casually inspecting something on his hand.
“What do you think?” Kentaro said.
“I think he’s a profoundly disturbed individual. But I don’t think he’s our killer. What do you think?”
“Profoundly disturbed, yes. And also profoundly stupid, I suspect. Still, that blood he was covered in is hard to ignore …”
“Oh, that,” Mei said, watching Shigeo through the glass. “Guy came in when you were getting coffee. Said they found a dog that had been butchered behind the station.”
“And they’re sure this guy did it?”
“Apparently there were traces of fur on that knife they took off him.”
“So the worst thing we can pin on him is animal cruelty.”
“Looks that way. What did the research you got say?”
“Not much. No mention of a Jin, or djinn, or whatever. The Invited has no known offices or anything—not a big surprise—unofficially their address is listed as underneath the abandoned Tokyo Station.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Well, you can’t beat the location,” Kentaro said. “Plus, there have got to be miles of abandoned track and train lines for people to disappear down.”
“Has anyone investigated them recently?”
“Not for some time. Lots of people disappear from around that area. Though whether it’s involuntary or not is anyone’s guess. Police don’t like to venture too far down into the tunnels.”
“So there’s a major death cult operating out of the heart of Tokyo, and we don’t have the faintest idea what they’re about?” Mei was incredulous. “How the fuck does something like this happen?”
“Well, lots of people feel cut adrift in the fog. They’re afraid of all the dangers they sense out there that are just out of sight. Cancer, psychosis—Rot, if you will—violent crime, unexplained disappearances. Cult leaders feed on this, give people who are frightened and confused some direction. They—”
“No, I understand that part. I’m asking how do we not have figures on these guys? Some idea of what their numbers are, or what they’re up to?”
Kentaro shrugged. “Lack of manpower. And womanpower, sorry. And the people we do have don’t want to go trekking through the muck and shit underground.”
“Well, it’s time someone did. I say we—”
She was interrupted when a beat cop burst through the door.
“Detective Kimura! There’s been another murder!”
“When?” Mei asked, her head whipping around.
“We just got the call now. First responder who called it in said it’s a fresh kill. Tonight sometime, maybe early evening at the earliest.”
Mei looked at Kentaro. “So much for Shigeo.”
“So much for sleeping tonight.”
“Yeah, well, at least you weren’t just murdered.”
Chapter Three
Masa was breathing heavily by the time he reached the top of the temple stairs and hopped the security chain. The air hung heavy with humidity, as if the sky might crack open and begin pouring at any moment. He glanced at the shrine area, with its stone markers, archways, and statues erupting out of the ground. He saw Sachiko sitting off to the side on the metal railway running around the perimeter of the shrine. It made her look like she was suspended over the city sprawled beyond.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Masa said as he approached.
“Not like I’ve got anything else to do.” She didn’t take her eyes off the bright city lights embedded in the murky haze off in the distance.
“Still, nice to have someone to talk to.”
“Sure. You and Satoshi still having your little lover’s quarrel?”
“Guess you could say that,” Masa said. He then caught her up on the latest developments.
“Huh. So I’ve gotta ask: why kill Ozu? You said yourself you don’t think he gave you up.”
“Why kill him? That’s not the way I look at it. More like: why make him go on living?”
Sachiko paused, seemingly taken aback. “I guess I should have expected something like that from you.”
“No, not like he deserved to die or anything. It’s just …” He trailed off, lost in thought. “It’s like … here was this guy who used to have it all. He was successful, he—”
“What did he do? Walked the Path, right?”
“Yeah, mostly muscle, but he and I used to run this extortion game. Lot of money to be had from that. The guy had money, respect, girls, everything. Then he goes to prison, gets scared, and decides he’s gonna walk the straight and narrow. By the time I caught up with him all these years later, the man’s a shell of his former self. Just a hollowed-out husk living for his next fix.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel about that.”
“It’s not just that.”
“So you ended him?”
“Act of mercy, if you ask me. He didn’t have anything real worth living for. Why make him go through the motions?”
“You ever thought about letting him make that decision?”
Masa considered this briefly, then shook his head. “Nah. Between him and me, I was always the brains. Besides, I’m sure he would have wanted it this way. His old self would have, anyway.”
“You certainly have an interesting notion of philanthropy. What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well, it’s just that this forced march down memory lane is really throwing into relief for me how far apart Satoshi and I have fallen.”
“He is hunting you, you know.”
Masa waved that away. “Suddenly I’m looking up people I haven’t thought of in years. It’s starting to make me nostalgic for the good times.”
“And when were those?”
“Back in the day, when Satoshi and I were on the same side.” He smiled to himself as he thought back. “There were days when he and I were together from early in the morning, making our collections, until we’d nearly pass out at the bar drinking and talking about the legends.”
“The legends?”
“Yeah, you know, legends who walked the Path. Like Masayoshi Kaibara, or—”
Sachiko just shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
“What? You’ve never heard of Killer Kaibara?”
“Nope.”
“Killer Kaibara was a killer with an ethical code that was straight up samurai. He killed rapists, two yakuza
who lost their way and assaulted an old couple, a guy who killed his wife, and on and on. But see, he only killed for honor, and he insisted on doing the killing himself. To him it was a duty, but a necessary one to uphold a code of honor.”
“And you knew the guy?”
“No, not personally. But he’s a legend. Everyone knows about him.”
“Must be a gokudo thing.”
“Well, what about Kikugawa? I ever tell you about him?”
“Another legend, I take it?”
“You could call him that. But one that Satoshi and I put an end to. It’s quite a story if you want to hear it.”
“You’re going to tell me anyway, so go ahead.”
Masa just grinned and nodded.
“It was one of the only times I’d met the shacho. Believe it when people say she’s a force to be reckoned with. Satoshi and I happened to be meeting with Vasili when she stormed into his office unannounced. She was fuming about this developer down along the Zushi coast who was trying to cut her out of a deal or something. Said she wanted him dead and needed the contract recovered and destroyed. Vasili immediately put us on it, and the next day we drove down to Zushi. Turns out it was Kikugawa, this old-school gangster trying to go straight. Almost made it. Too bad he pissed of Eriko on the way out.
“Anyway, we get there around nightfall, find a nice, quiet spot in the hills, and begin digging a hole. Very professional-like. Then we go to his house down the coast. We wait there until he and his mistress show up. He’s scared shitless, because he knows what two yakuza soldiers in his home means, but the mistress is mouthing off. It got so bad that finally, just to shut her up, I put a bullet through her head.”
Sachiko looked queasy. “You and your temper.”
“Well, we weren’t just going to let a witness get away. It was going to happen sooner or later. Plus, painting someone with brains is a great motivational technique, really got him to cooperate.”
“He wasn’t before? You said he was terrified.”
“Yeah, but he kept trying to buy his way out, kept offering us more and more money. Fucking businessmen, they think everything’s for sale. Anyway, he straightened out. Only problem was, he didn’t have the contract with him. It was with his business partner, who was at a nearby bar. Satoshi said he’d go get it, but I was tired of listening to the guy talk, so I said I’d go. He didn’t like it, but finally he let me go.
Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season Page 35
