one of those members, quite possibly as you attempted blackmail and extortion, and the end result was the bloody carnage that occurred last night.’
‘That’s not the way it happened,’ urged Taro.
‘Perhaps not. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that this version is so compelling it may well scare away a deeper police investigation. Instead, the powers above will construct a swift, publicly acceptable closure. Tokin may have orchestrated this but he will never have to answer for it. He has left that to you.’
‘Yes, I’ll answer for it. I understand that. It’s my mother I’m worried about.’
Hakate nodded. ‘I made a threat, didn’t I? Well, the key participants are now dead and your mother will soon have the knowledge her son is a cold blooded killer of policemen. So, my threat is just a thin film of oil on a very dark ocean. She will die from this one way or another, you can count on that. If I do not touch her, it will be from shame and guilt. It will be a slow, agonising demise.’ Hakate looked at Taro carefully, seeking to read his reaction. ‘You do know the other key participant is also dead? Koki Nishikawa was found this morning with his throat slashed. A poor farmer got the shock of his life. Forensics is on the scene now.’
Taro lit a cigarette, straining hard to keep his hand steady.
‘Let’s go,’ said Hakate. ‘You’re not going to answer all my questions with your cheap cigarettes and a view of freedom to enjoy.’
‘I didn’t come here to give myself up.’
‘That’s fine. Now that we’ve come together I can just arrest you.’
Taro shook his head and edged a step back. ‘I know the system. If I’m on death row, my mother won’t know which will be the day of the execution. It will be withheld from her. She won’t know which day she will be called in to collect the body. She’ll be living every day for years in expectation of receiving that call. You’re right, it would finish her.’
‘As you say, that is the system.’
‘She’s my mother.’
‘You’ve realised your responsibility too late.’
‘I still have my own life and I’m going to end it myself, on my terms.’
‘Your life belonged to Officer Okadi the moment you took his. You can tell your mother that. It’s the best you can do.’ Hakate straightened up. ‘Let’s go.’
Taro did not move. ‘I’m going to the Aokigahara Woods, the suicide forest. You can call up every cop in Japan to try and apprehend me if you want, but it won’t matter. I can guarantee you you’re not going to have the Okada Memorial execution you want so badly.’
Inspector Hakate ran his teeth over his top lip with a moment of consideration. ‘It’s difficult to stop a determined young man from killing himself,’ he mused. ‘It’s much easier to see that he does the job properly. Very well, that’s the way it’s going to be. The suspicion that you may have fulfilled my request regarding Koki, however, clumsily, and that you were tricked into shooting Okada means I will grant you some latitude in settling your affairs honourably. But you had better act quickly. You’re about to be the most hunted man in Japan. You’re last known location will be right here. That is the best I can do.’
‘I understand,’ said Taro.
He met Inspector Hakate’s hard, uncompromising eyes and walked away. He pulled out his mobile phone. His mother would be at work now so he could leave a message.
‘I told you I wouldn’t be running pizzas forever,’ he said. ‘My new work is important but I can’t say too much about it. Don’t listen to anything the police or anyone else might tell you. They really don’t have any idea. And don’t try to call me back on this number. I only use this phone for work purposes.’ He ended the call and flung the shiny red Docomo phone into the putrid Dotonburi River.
42
‘Tattooists sometimes need to ask more than once.’ The tattooists frown was of the scowling variety. His tight white t-shirt left plenty of his heavily tattooed arms on display. There was a three headed dragon wrapped in barbed wire. And there was a skeleton wrapped in a python.
The tattooist had a short cropped beard. His jet black hair was wrapped in a ponytail. His name was Shion. He looked even more intimidating in the large picture on the studio wall. In that picture he was posing with all of his chest tattoos visible. Taro looked at the picture and knew that despite his anxiety, he had come to the right place.
‘I want a geisha sticking up her middle finger.’
‘Like this?’ Shion lifted his middle finger hard and angry.
‘That’s right.’
Shion frowned. ‘I don’t know about that. It seems disrespectful of our culture. Geisha’s only purpose now may be keeping corporate presidents amused but back in the day they were there for the working man. They put smiles on people living hard lives. I respect that.’
Taro returned the stare from his lower position in a loose-jointed office chair. ‘I won’t be wearing it for long.’
Shion smiled. ‘Do you have cancer?’
‘I’m on my way to the Aokigahara Woods.’
The smile sharpened. ‘And you’re not going there for hiking?’
‘I’ll find a quiet spot deep in the forest. Your geisha can decompose away in a slow goodbye.’
Shion was impressed. ‘A death tattoo. That might change things.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re the police killer, aren’t you? I saw you on the news last night.’
‘I was tricked into it. I thought it was self defence.’
Shion laughed. ‘Self defence isn’t grounds for shooting a cop. Otherwise there wouldn’t been any left.’ He hacked and spat. ‘I’ll give you the tattoo but I can’t guarantee I won’t call the cops when it’s done. The idea of having one of my works dangling from the hangman’s rope is very appealing to me. Either way I’ll want to do a good job. The branding of a criminal is a rite of passage for a tattoo artist.’
‘How long will it take?’
‘For you, I’ll do it in one session. It will be a long painful session but I couldn’t let you meet your maker with an unfinished tattoo, especially if it’s intended to be your last big statement. I’ll use the irezumi method. That’s the style most befitting a criminal.’ He nodded his head approvingly. ‘I do a lot of work on the Yamaguchi-Guni syndicate and they tell me their bosses are giving them tests on the law. What they can and can’t do. Kind of trying to tame them. But you just see in the eyes of some people that they simply cannot be tamed. Because all they are is a burning rage. There is not much else. They tattoo themselves with deities and symbols hoping there is some reason they were created this way. I do the work and send them on their way, and I hear later how they have been killed or imprisoned and I fear the closest they came to a creator was me.’
He hadn’t shifted from his position on the bed. His eyes faded away, perhaps with the memory of those people he had been talking about. And then his eyes came back again. ‘Let’s drink some warm sake before we begin.’
43
‘I don’t know what you really needed, a tattoo or just a good night’s sleep?’ Shion gave Taro a hard nudge. ‘I’ve already cancelled two days’ worth of appointments because of you. You’ve turned my studio into a hotel. But I’ve been feeling sorry for you, the condemned man. I wish you could go on dreaming forever. You had better know, however, that your tattoo is done. And the police are still advertising your face on TV. I’ve been watching a lot of TV.’
Taro lethargically sat up. The tattoo studio bed was still comfortable, even after so much time spent on it.
‘What time is it?’
‘I don’t wear a watch. It’s afternoon. Of the next day. The first time you slept I could put it down to the sake. But this time I’d have to say it’s a remarkable resistance to pain. There aren’t too many people who sleep through irezumi.’
Taro rubbed his eyes and looked down at his bare chest.
‘You’ll see it best in the mirror,’ said Shion, pulling his black t-shirt further down on his
skinny waist.’
Taro swivelled to the full length mirror. His chest was enflamed but the tattoo centred within the swelling was deep, rich and superbly detailed.
‘I think I was inspired by your plight,’ said Shion. ‘It is work I am proud of. I took a photo of it while you were sleeping. For my own protection I did not include your face.’ He handed Taro a bottle of beer. ‘Take this with you. And put on a shirt. It is not something that ought to be seen in public.’
A horn tooted outside.
Taro stiffened. ‘Who’s that?’
‘It’s not the cops I called. I considered it for the reward money. It’s just that I have grown attached to your tattoo and if the cops turned you into a bag of bones, your body simply wouldn’t do it justice.’
Taro put on his shirt and jacket; his chest hurt to the touch. Street level was down a flight of stairs. A furniture delivery truck was parked out front.
‘It’s a friend of mine,’ said Shion. ‘Sort of a friend. His name is Ryota. He used to be a furniture removalist until he got tired of backbreaking work. Now he’ll carry anything so long as it’s light and pays well.’
Taro unscrewed his beer for what he intended to be a sip but which fast descended into a ravenous gulp that left the bottle all but empty. He wiped his mouth and caught his breath. ‘Did you meet him here?’ he queried.
‘You meet all kinds here,’ said Shion. ‘Including, it seems, cop killers. Ryota won’t know anything about that. He listens to hip hop and he
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