Nightshade

by Jonelle Patrick

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He said his mother had given him a gift, that he’d learned that his purpose on Earth was to help people die.” Yumi bit her lip. “I think he meant that when they decide to commit jisatsu, he makes sure they . . . finish the job.”

  “Sick bastard,” Mori muttered, jotting in his notebook.

  “He said he ‘helped’ Rika.”

  “Rika—that would be Ozawa-san?”

  Yumi nodded. “He said something went wrong. That she fought it.” Her face crumpled. “Of course she did. She didn’t want to die. He killed her.”

  “Did he say how?”

  She sniffed. “No. But you know that already, don’t you? He held her down and suffocated her with a plastic bag, didn’t he?”

  Mori handed her a tissue.

  “Arigato,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

  He waited for her to recover, then asked, “And what about previous victims? Did he mention any others?”

  “There were three. Three women. He didn’t tell me their real names. He called them and and .”

  Mori sat back and frowned. “He didn’t know their real names?”

  Yumi shook her head.

  “Uh, sir?” Kenji ventured.

  “I think those might be user IDs from suicide websites.” Kenji told how he’d discovered Shimada using different names on various suicide websites, where he’d met up with users using , , and as their online IDs.

  “Kobayashi,” Mori said to the assistant inspector standing by the door. “Get warrants for the sites Detective Nakamura mentioned. Let’s get their real names and match them to our Shrine Killer victims.”

  Kenji bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell the inspector that avenue was a dead end without getting Ghost in trouble.

  Mori turned back to Yumi. “What else did Shimada say? After he told you that he ‘helped’ the others die?”

  “Nothing, because that’s when the priest came. When he showed up, ran.”

  “What priest?”

  “A strange priest. At first I thought he was just a boy, but when he came closer I saw that he was actually a very small man, wearing a white robe and kannushi headdress.”

  “So this priest scared Shimada away and untied you—”

  “No,” Yumi said. “He scared away but he didn’t help me.”

  “What?”

  “He just stared at me, then climbed through a panel in the back wall of the shrine.” She shuddered, remembering those unreadable eyes looking down at her without the slightest sympathy. “It was like . . . He didn’t realize I was a person, a living, breathing person who needed help. He just left me there, tied up on the walkway.” She paused. “But I saw how he got into the shrine. That’s how I escaped from . When I heard him coming back, I crawled through the opening just in time. While I was hiding behind the altar, the priest left through the front door. I wanted to follow him, but it was too dark. was still outside and I was worried I’d make noise. I tried searching the shrine’s earthquake kit for a flashlight but all that was inside was some incense, a lighter, some rolled-up cloth, and a pair of surgical gloves. Then pulled open the panel and I—”

  “What did you say?” Mori stared at her. “Incense? Surgical gloves?”

  “Yeah, I thought it was an odd bunch of stuff to put in an emergency kit, but—”

  “What did this priest look like? How tall was he? Guess. Did you see him up next to anything we could measure him by?”

  She closed her eyes, trying to picture him. “When he stood next to the panel that opened into the shrine, his head was at about the same level as where it was hinged at the top. That would make him shorter than me, maybe a hundred fifty-five centimeters? And skinny. Like I said, he looked like a boy.”

  “Hair color?”

  “Black. Buzzed short, but not shaved.”

  “Any distinguishing features? Scars? Birthmarks? Moles?”

  Yumi shook her head. Mori stood and called his second-in-command, ordering him to drop everything and organize a manhunt.

  “I want that backpack and I want that priest,” he barked, ending the call and grabbing his file. “Nakamura-san, can you see that Miss Hata gets home safely?”

  “Yes, sir. But what about Shimada?”

  “Finding that priest is our first priority now. Keep him in detention overnight—maybe some time in the cells will make him more talkative. Two suspects are always better than one.”

  The inspector bowed to Yumi. “Excuse me, Hata-san. Thank you for your help. We’ll need to talk to you again and have you sign a statement, but right now I need to be elsewhere. Please allow Nakamura-san to escort you out.”

  He left, the door closing slowly behind him. It thumped shut and there was silence.

  “I don’t understand,” Yumi said. “Didn’t kill Rika?”

  Kenji shut down the computer and stood. “I’m sure he did.”

  “So why is Mori-san looking for the priest?”

  “The guy he’s been hunting for six months is between one fifty and one sixty centimeters tall, and the things in that ‘earthquake kit’ you described match the evidence found with his victims. Once they catch him, they’ll figure out whether it’s him or Shimada who killed four women at shrines in the past year.”

  Yumi shivered, as the fact that she could have been number five sank in, but she was too tired to ask any more questions. Kenji crossed the room and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. For a moment she swayed with exhaustion. He steadied her, then opened the door.

  A uniformed policewoman handed her a shopping bag filled with her dried and folded clothes. They waited in front of the elevator in silence, standing in the eye of a hurricane as the team mobilized for a manhunt.

  The doors rolled shut. Kenji pressed the button for the ground floor and stared at the changing numbers as they descended. Four . . . three . . . When the doors opened again, Ichiro would be waiting and Yumi would walk out of his life again.

  He pushed the Stop button. The car lurched to a halt.

  He sighed and looked at her. “Yu-chan . . . This thing you’re doing . . . Is it going to make you happy?”

  She closed her eyes and tears appeared along her dark lashes. One spilled.

  Kenji hesitated, then gently wiped it away. She reached up and held his hand against her cheek for a moment, then let go and turned away. He restarted the elevator.

  It landed with a soft bump. Kenji held the door and watched Yumi walk across the echoing lobby to the lone figure on the orange couch.

  And then they were gone.

  Chapter 66

  Wednesday, April 17

  8:00 A.M.

  Kenji

  Early morning sunlight streamed in through the slatted blinds of the briefing room. It was packed, abuzz with nervous energy despite the early hour. Kenji, Oki, and Suzuki found seats at the back as Inspector Mori turned on the microphone. A map of the ward was projected on the screen, with the area around the Nezu Shrine shaded in red. The surrounding neighborhoods were divided into four additional sections, blue, green, yellow, and orange.

  “If I can have your attention, please, let’s get started.”

  The room quieted.

  “As you know, last night two suspects were identified in the Shrine Murders case. Detective Oki?”

  Oki stepped forward and described how Yumi Hata had been lured to the Nezu Shrine by a man connected to the most recent victim, Rika Ozawa, and how he and Detective Kenji Nakamura had apprehended Jun Shimada.

  Tommy Loud stood next, and gave his opinion that the twisted length of plastic found on the back walkway of the shrine had been used as a gag, an
d matched the description of the dry-cleaning bag that had been used to suffocate Rika Ozawa and the third victim.

  “Nakamura-san?” Noguchi prompted.

  Kenji stood at attention and reporting finding Yumi at the shrine and learning that Shimada had confessed involvement in the deaths of three other women in addition to Rika and the Hamadas.

  Mori leaned into his own microphone and took over, adding that a team was searching for the identities of the women Shimada had described “helping” to see if they turned out to be the Shrine Killer’s victims. Then he described Yumi’s ordeal, how she’d encountered a man dressed as a Shinto priest who matched the profilers’ description. A team had been immediately dispatched to find the suspect and recover a backpack believed to contain items similar to evidence recovered from the previous murders.

  The inspector who’d led last night’s hunt for the priest stood next, exhaustion etched on his sagging face, his suit rumpled. He reported that his team had been unsuccessful at locating either the suspect or the backpack.

  Inspector Mori stood. “By now he could be anywhere, so we’ll widen the search area. It’s possible that the reason witnesses never reported seeing anyone suspicious near the crime scenes is because the killer dressed as a priest.”

  He flicked on his laser pointer and trained it on the map. “We’ll start from the Nezu area and work outward. Teams will interview the staff at all temples and shrines, in case the killer actually is a priest. We’ll widen the door-to-door canvas, asking if anybody saw a man matching the suspect’s description. Miss Hata has agreed to meet with a police artist to provide a composite of his face. We’ll distribute it as soon as we have it. Any questions?”

  The room was silent.

  Mori asked one of the inspectors from headquarters to continue tracking down Boshi-san’s elusive brother with Detective Oki; maybe the diminutive Jiro Yamaboshi dressed as a priest when he wasn’t arguing with his brother at the Mad Hatter. Then Mori picked up a folder and took out five duty rosters, distributing them to Special Investigations Unit detectives so they could assemble their teams.

  Two hours later, after delivering Team Mori’s lunch orders, Kenji sat by himself on the Komagome Shrine steps with his bowl of take-out ramen. He’d had a long morning of fetching tea and equipment, and welcomed the chance to sit alone and think.

  Something about last night bothered him. The Shrine Killer’s equipment was stashed at the Nezu Shrine, where had attacked Yumi. Shimada must have planted it there beforehand so the necessary items would be at hand when he needed them. But Kenji knew he’d originally tried to set up the meeting at the Komagome Shrine and Yumi had changed it at the last minute. Did Shimada have more than one set of killing tools, hidden at more than one shrine?

  Inspector Mori had described the Shrine Killer as organized, a planner, the kind of criminal who left nothing to chance. What if he’d dropped them in several places, so he could lure his victims to whichever place was most convenient, knowing his equipment would be there when he needed it?

  Kenji laid his chopsticks across the bowl of half-finished ramen and sprang up the steps to the Komagome Shrine. Making a hasty apology to the kami-sama and tossing a coin into the offering box, he climbed over the railing and made his way around the altar.

  In the space behind, he could just make out a canvas daypack slouched in the far corner. Kenji pulled on some gloves. He knelt and unzipped the bag, feeling around inside.

  Incense. Robe. Gloves. Lighter. He pulled out the robe and unrolled it. A plastic gun-shaped device dropped out onto the wooden floorboards. Taser. In the zippered side pocket, a glint from a folded dry-cleaning bag.

  Kenji zipped the robe and Taser back into the daypack, then ran to alert Inspector Mori.

  Superintendent Noguchi arrived ten minutes later. He climbed from his car, phone at his ear, instructing the other teams to search the shrines in their assigned areas for equipment drops.

  Chapter 67

  Wednesday, April 17

  1:00 P.M.

  Kenji

  The map marked with colored search areas had been replaced with a large-scale plot of north-central Tokyo. Four shrines were circled in red.

  Kenji and Suzuki stood near the door. Where was Oki?

  The room dropped into silence as Superintendent Noguchi stood. “We’ve discovered backpacks filled with items identical to those used by the Shrine Killer at four shrines. Shimada is continuing to deny his involvement—if he’s telling the truth, the most recent death is unconnected to the previous crimes and the Shrine Killer’s clock is still ticking. Another attack could be imminent.”

  A buzz rippled through the room as Noguchi called on a slight man with tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses. He stood and introduced himself as the chief profiler of the Metropolitan Police.

  “The previous crimes occurred within a week of three-month intervals,” he began. “The outer boundary, based on the pattern established by the previous crimes, was yesterday, Tuesday, April sixteenth.” He trained his laser pointer on the circled shrines. “We believe there’s a good chance that if the suspect currently in custody isn’t the man we’re looking for, the killer will make his next attack at one of these four places within the next few days.

  “So far he’s been able to choose his time, place, and victim without being caught, but now that the outside limit of his time period has passed, he’ll become increasingly desperate to satisfy his craving. This killer is highly organized, with patterns that are becoming more rigid over time. He’s the type that has deep inner needs which are only satisfied by killing a certain type of victim in a certain way. This kind of psychopath tends to kill at ever-decreasing intervals, the thrill of each crime satisfying his needs for shorter and shorter periods of time. Right now, if he’s still out there, we can be sure he’s already sweating.”

  One of the inspectors raised his hand. “How do we know that these are the only places he stashed murder kits?”

  Mori stood and took over. “We plan to search every shrine in Tokyo today. We’ll use neighborhood koban officers, under close supervision.” The inspector paused and looked around the room. “We can’t risk spooking the killer, and we don’t want the media involved. The koban officers will be told what to look for, but not why. Under no circumstances are they to touch anything they find. The backpacks must be left in place. I’ll be assigning some of you to supervise this sensitive task. The killer always strikes at night, so the rest of you will be assigned shifts on six P.M. to six A.M. stakeouts at the four known sites. Any questions?”

  He called on Kenji.

  “What about Jiro Yamaboshi, the suspect we identified during our initial investigation who fits the physical description of the Shrine Killer?”

  “He’s being questioned downstairs right now.”

  So that’s where Oki was.

  “And what about Jun Shimada?”

  “He’s still not talking, but we can hold him on the assault charge against Miss Hata until we catch this priest and sort out which crimes he’s responsible for.” Mori looked around the room and raised his voice. “The next forty-eight hours will be crucial to this investigation. Issho ni gambaro.”

  “Hai!” the detectives shouted, before breaking into teams.

  Five minutes later, Kenji was among the handful of detectives left without an assignment. Superintendent Noguchi called him up.

  “Nakamura-san, I’m going to put you on Inspector Mori’s team, but first I want you to get a signed statement from Miss Hata that we can take to the prosecutor. It’ll allow us to hold Shimada for another ten days so we can concentrate on finding this priest. Hata-san is downstairs with the police artist right now. You can talk to her when they’re finished.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Noguchi smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a very promising young dete
ctive, Nakamura-san.” He pulled out a business card and held it out to Kenji. “Call me at this number when you’ve got Hata-san’s statement in hand.”

  Kenji and Oki had stretched the rules last night, arresting Shimada without a judge’s okay or a signed statement from Yumi about the assault they hadn’t personally witnessed. Noguchi had overlooked the irregularity, but they needed Yumi’s signed statement before asking the public prosecutor to have Shimada’s detention extended beyond forty-eight hours.

  Kenji made his way to the elevator, stopping in the men’s room to splash cold water on his face and straighten his tie. The elevator stopped at the third floor on the way down, and the doors parted to reveal Oki and the elite squad inspector with a younger, goateed version of Boshi-san in handcuffs. The guy from headquarters stayed behind as Oki and the bartender’s younger brother stepped in.

  “So . . . ?” Kenji asked, as the doors closed.

  “Turns out Jiro-san’s not the Shrine Killer after all.” Oki grinned. “Has an airtight alibi, in fact. Last November twenty-fifth, while the Shrine Killer was murdering his second victim, he was committing grand theft at the home of the chairman of the Sakamoto Trading Company.”

  The goateed prisoner scowled.

  “We might never have caught him, except that when we were interviewing him at his brother’s house, I noticed some kiri-wood boxes stashed behind a bookcase. I thought it was odd that a bartender could afford the same taste in art as the chairman of the Fujimoto Corporation.”

  Kenji laughed. “You are the luckiest detective in Tokyo, Oki-san.”

  “Either that, or Yamaboshi here is the unluckiest thief.”

  Kenji got off on the second floor and made his way to the interview room where the police artist was working. He looked through the glass and saw Yumi seated next to a uniformed man at a computer. Ichiro Mitsuyama was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder as the artist tweaked the composite. What was he doing here?

  Kenji pushed open the door. The three looked up as he bowed. “Excuse me for interrupting, but Superintendent Noguchi asked me to get Hata-san’s signature on her statement when you’re done here.”